A/N: I had been reading a few stories surrounding Bastila and the mission to capture Darth Revan AND also reflecting on the potential impact being compared to Revan would have upon her, along with some modifications to her training as a Jedi, and the initial idea for this story sprung from that.
The Will of Revan
I
She felt their presence through the Force long before they entered her humble chambers. Bastila Shan drew out of her meditation, grey eyes blinking open, and looked up. "Do you have a mission for me, Master?"
"The Council has need of your skills." Master Atris—Historian of the Jedi Order, Caretaker of the Archives, and a member of its High Council—stood in the doorway, rigid and dressed in white. None of her handmaidens, all of Echani heritage, were with her. She watched Bastila with a closed, narrow expression. "What is with our most promising Jedi and going to war? Some times you remind me too much of him."
"But I am not him," Bastila said, rising to her feet. "If I were, or even if I was with him, it is…likely that the Republic and the Jedi Order would have fallen."
Atris crossed her arms, glaring. "Do not speak like that, Knight Shan. We are on a fragile footing as it is. Hearing about the potential fall of this ancient order is not one we need spread."
Bastila raised her hands. "Peace, Master Atris. It is but a theory. His command during the Mandalorian Wars made him a hero for a reason, and the more dangerous of the two Sith Lords during this current war. There was a reason I spent the first year of the war reviewing his actions and tactics against the Mandalorians. But, that is not why you are here.
"What is needed of me?"
Atris was unreadable as any knowledgeable Jedi Master. "You have slain one Sith Lord. Can you slay the other?"
Bastila paused, turning introspective. In the three years since the beginning of what the HoloNet called the Jedi Civil War, Bastila Shan had found herself rapidly grow from an inexperienced Padawan with a powerful parlor trick to the Savior of the Republic that it seemed everyone—Naval High Command, the Jedi Council, and the Senate—were relying upon to achieve victory.
Seven weeks had passed since the Second Battle of Iridonia. It had been a massive victory for the Republic, primarily due to her own heroics and growing skill. During the bloody ground assault that followed smashing the small Sith fleet unprepared in orbit, she had fought her way through a platoon worth of Dark Jedi and ended up confronting Darth Malak in one-on-one combat. The only thing she distinctly remembered from the long, draining fight other than fear and pain and something she couldn't begin to explain was the lightening of her mood and change in morale when she struck down the Apprentice to the Dark Lord. There was no joy in his death, only relief and the Force.
That, more than her battle meditation and the victories it had led to (nobody ever spoke of her failure during the attempt to retake Foerost, something she was thankful for if only so to keep it off her mind), had earned her the status of hero and savior. Now it appeared it was expected of her to do it again.
"I will do my duty then. He is the Dark Lord of the Sith—the most powerful wielder of the Dark Side, the greatest with a lightsaber who practice their dark arts. His knowledge makes me shiver."
"Shiver how?" Atris asked, an accusing tone.
"It is not with fear or anything resembling desire, Master. More of a tremble, to be honest. Though I feel…cold whenever I consider what terrible knowledge and power he may possess. Is that all, or shall you escort me to my shuttle?"
Atris frowned for a long moment and then relented with a sigh. "We are sending a group of Jedi Knights and two Masters—a member of the Council and the Battlemaster—with you, Knight Shan. This is a risky move, no matter what High Command thinks. Revan convinced a third of our Order to join him in fighting the Mandalorians and nearly all that survived the war have been swayed to the Dark Side. We have reason to believe the abomination that was the Battle of Malachor V was a plot to destroy those who wouldn't fall. Be mindful of yourself and consider this a command: should you be taken alive, you are to take your life by any means. Neither the Republic nor the Jedi have a hope of surviving should you fall to the Dark Side." She paused and sighed. "You are right to believe you would be a tremendous threat in his possession."
"I understand," Bastila said. "And I suspect you are right to order me to end my life should I be captured. I fear he will wish to turn me, to replace Malak and his brutality with my battle meditation."
"Revan would make you his apprentice? That's what you think?" Bastila nodded, bringing an irritated scowl to Master Atris' face. "Blast High Command, those kriffing fools. You should not be part of this mission, but they insisted and the Chancellor has used your status and rank to go over the Council on this matter. The team we are sending are meant to protect you, even if they're more interested in being the one to stop Darth Revan. Well, except Master Vrook. He knows his role is to deal with the Dark Lord without endangering you."
"I shall be careful, Master." Bastila then smiled, raising a gauntleted arm. "I am well protected."
After foiling an assassination attempt—nobody knew what became of the assassin droid, but it had disappeared after calling everyone 'meatbag' and promising violent retribution before falling a hundred stories—Bastila had been gifted with several kilograms worth of cortosis, the rare metal capable of disrupting lightsabers. And so she had commissioned what some were calling 'Jedi War Robes' with the metal imbued into it. It was layered onto gauntlets and gilded armor plates upon her chest and shoulders, at her waist and on the tabards hanging from her belt. The robes were dyed a dark brown to better match the mottled grey metal. She had added dark sleeves and leggings to complete the ensemble. She knew several images of her in those robes were plastered across the HoloNet. The Republic was even adding it to their new batch of recruitment posters, though she was uncertain it would increase the Republic's plateauing numbers as High Command was thinking.
The Sith expand quickly and too many Rim Worlds in the Republic distrust the Council and the Jedi for their failure to back Revan during the Mandalorian Wars. It's all we can do to hold the Core Worlds, though High Command is unwilling to admit so. If we stop Revan before the war becomes unwinnable, we can break the Sith Empire and save the Republic from ruin.
"Yes, well," Atris bit out as Bastila finally stood. "Do be careful, Knight Shan. May the Force be with you."
"And with you, Master." She reached out with the Force and summoned her lightsaber. Nodding to Atris, she left her chambers and joined the two members of the Temple Guard waiting for her. They wore white and gold ceremonial armor and, like her, carried a dual-bladed yellow lightsaber. Their weapons shared the color scheme of their armor while hers was unique. Most of the meter long pommel was covered in supple leather, while the emitter ends had caps of cortosis to foil any arrogant Dark Jedi thinking to disable her weapon. It proved effective on Iridonia and would elsewhere, for most engagements with Dark Jedi often left those Jedi still connected to the Light Side of the Force outnumbered three or four to one.
"You're going after him, aren't you?" asked one of the Guards, words muffled by his helmet.
Bastila glanced at him, hiding her surprise. "I am. You were here in Coruscant during the Mandalorian Wars, yes?"
"Only temple or conclave I've been part of. He was something else back then and many of us thought he'd be the future of the Order." He snorted and shook his head. "I also remember the years before he joined the War, when he argued and pleaded with the Council to aid the Republic against the Mandalorians. There's a reason so many were swayed to join him."
"Did you ever consider going with the Revanchists?"
The Guard was quiet for several moments. He then said, "We all did, even us in the Temple Guard. I had already joined then, so I had duties and sworn oaths that bound me here. Yet…he was right and wrong about that war."
"It was the correct choice, remaining here," the other Guard remarked. "I was outside the Council Chambers when they punished the Exile for her involvement. If Malachor V hadn't ripped away her connection to the Force, the Council would have." He shivered. "If there is anything to fear, it would be a punishment like that. Revan should hope he dies on someone's lightsaber. If he is captured and brought before the Council, they will destroy him."
"I think the Council overstepped their bounds with her. The Order could've benefited from the Exile's knowledge. And remember that she was repentant upon returning."
"For what she did in that final battle, not for defying the Council to join the Revanchists."
Bastila could feel their rising tension and, in an attempt to divert their argument, blurted, "I almost joined them."
That brought a pause to their conversation and an awkward silence followed. The three had reached the turbolift down to the Temple's main hangar, where the shuttle up to the Republic Fleet waited. They entered the turbolift and Bastila said, "Hangar level."
The lift shifted, rising.
"You cannot be serious, Knight Shan," the first Guard said, breaking the silence. "I know for a fact you didn't come to the Temple until the final year of the War and by then, they had stopped recruiting. Those few volunteers then were Padawans who failed their Trials and fled to join Revan in hopes he could Knight them instead."
"It was on Dantooine," Bastila said. If there was ever a memory she dwelt on, one that she pondered over with 'what if's', it was this one. "During the Wars, Malak made a discreet visit. This would've been less than a year after he declared himself to be Revan. I, along with five other Padawans, defied curfew and the masters to meet with him. He spoke of the War and our duty as Jedi to protect the innocent. I…I did not think much of my skills then, too often thinking I would die before becoming a Knight. I had yet to discover and master my unique Force ability and feared the wrath of the Council should I go.
"The others, though, went with him. They never even looked back at me, standing awkwardly in that grove, all alone except for the Force."
"Do you know what became of them?"
"One died by the end of the Mandalorian Wars, though I do not know when or how. Another was the Exile." Bastila drew in a shuttering breath. She had liked Meetra Surik during those brief months they knew each other and hearing what became of her still stung. "The others, though, were turned by Revan. One I believe was slain on Roche early into the war by a fortunate commando. The other two fell to my blade at Iridonia."
The Temple Guard went quiet after that. She wondered what they felt, what they thought of her. She had known for a while now that if her skill of battle meditation had emerged before Malak's fateful visit, she would have joined the Revanchists. And, as much as she wished to deny it, would have been turned to the Dark Side by Revan, perhaps even more. Amidst her studies, she had come across a Holo image of him without the mask and he was strikingly handsome. She was fully aware of her struggles with temptation, her temper that rippled under the surface, ready to burn. She heard the whispers, tempting her to reach out and use the Dark Side. It would be so simple to turn their weapon into her own, to burn them with lightning and strip away their life force. Yet, she held to the Light and the Jedi Code. She knew all too well that Revan had used Mandalorian tactics against them and it had brought about utter carnage, death and destruction. That was the price using the Dark Side brought.
She would not pay it, not if it meant abandoning everything she stood for.
The turbolift stopped and the doors swished open. Bastila stepped onto the hangar deck, the Guards following. The shuttle waited on the far side near the opening into the bright Coruscant day. Only one stood outside and as she approached, it was clear who waited.
"Master Vrook," she said, bowing.
"Knight Shan. Congratulations on your promotion. Dorak and Zhar send their regards." The old master gave her a brief, if weak, smile. He was well known for his strictness, so words like that were precious to the few who heard them. "Your dedication to the Jedi Order has paid off in full. I assume Atris has told you of my role for this mission?"
"She has and I explained the concerns I have already shared with you. I admit myself relieved that you will be the one to face Revan. I have seen the Holo recordings of my duel with Malak. It was strange, seeing myself fight with a skill I have yet to repeat. Some even doubt it was I, yet all the evidence points otherwise. Even my own memories, as blurred as they are, suggest it was me. And yet…"
Master Vrook frowned at the admission. "Do you think it has to do with your battle meditation? None of the texts speak of it being able to work in such a manner, but we know little of its full capacity."
"If it can exchange skill and ability like that, then yes." Bastila sighed. She hoped Vrook didn't notice how doubtful the noise sounded. "Otherwise that recording is either fraudulent or something occurred during that fight I do not understand. A mystery about the Force that I don't know if even the Council can answer."
Before the Master could continue to question her, one of the Knights stuck their head out of the shuttle. "We will be off schedule if we dither any longer, Master Vrook."
"Fine," he bit out. "Come, Knight Shan. The Chancellor himself will be there to see us off, and you know better than anyone just what follows him around."
Bastila grimaced, but blanked out her expression before she entered the shuttle. The door sealed behind her and it the craft rose. She quickly found a seat and just in time took, for the shuttle joined the rest of the winding and speeding traffic of the Republic's capital world.
"I'll be brief," Master Vrook began, scanning the group of Jedi. "This is the most dangerous mission the Council has sent this many Jedi on since Grand Master Sunrider and Qel-Droma led the mission to put an end to Exar Kun. While the Council would prefer to bring Darth Revan in alive, I have been granted clemency to handle him however I see fit. The purpose of this mission is to cripple the Sith threat by removing their leader and exacerbate the power vacuum formed in the aftermath of Knight Shan's victory over Darth Malak. They will descend into infighting and either destroy themselves or will return to the Republic and the Jedi. This strike is designed with the express aim to turn the war in our favor."
"What about our Battle Maiden?" one of the Knights asked, smirking. A couple others around him grinned, amused. Bastila had seen the nickname on the HoloNet and had felt both mortified and touched. "Is she just here to look pretty or does she have a special mission?"
"In a way," Vrook grumbled. His eyes sought her out and she nearly sighed as their gazes locked. "Would you prefer I tell them about our suspicions or will you do it, Knight Shan?"
"I can do it," Bastila said. She waited a moment until the shuttle was quiet except for the sounds outside. "A few members of the High Council and I have come to the conclusion there is reason to believe that during the engagement with Revan, he will attempt to sway me to the Dark Side. After Iridonia and given my unique skill with battle meditation…" She drifted off, letting the others come to the same conclusion she had, along with Masters Atris and Vrook.
The shuttle chilled and grimaces were all around.
"A strong apprentice you would make for him," said Master Tarras, Battlemaster of the Order, thoughtful and with some sense of regret. He had helped her refine her lightsaber technique upon arriving on Coruscant. She was certain at least one bruise remained from his lessons in lightsaber combat. It was also said that Tarras had worked with Revan to refine his skill with Jar'Kai, a skill he now used to kill Jedi who wouldn't turn. "You have always had great promise and you have achieved great successes during the current war. He would be a fool to not try and seize that strength for his own."
"There are suspicions I have about the upcoming engagement," Bastila continued. She noticed both Masters frown. "If Revan truly wants me as his apprentice, then his forces will avoid attacking me directly during most, if not all, engagements." Her eyes flicked between the Masters. "At least that will be how those strictly loyal to him fight. Those Dark Jedi with ambitions and any Sith, though? I cannot say. They may have strict orders, or they may see killing me as an easy ticket to becoming Revan's apprentice instead."
"I thought this was a raid, not a babysitting mission," complained Knight L'Uhiln. Bastila pursed her lips, arms crossed.
"It isn't," Master Vrook said. "Of all the Knights here, she would stand the best chance against him by herself, especially if she could repeat her efforts against Malak. I would prefer to avoid subjecting her to that, however. The threat alone of Revan wishing to turn her is worrisome enough."
The shuttle remained rather quiet for the remainder of their trip. Most of the Knights whispered in the small groups that had naturally formed through time, training, and when they had come to the Temple on Coruscant. Bastila didn't mind that nobody spoke to her, for it gave a chance to meditate and consider the coming raid. Her successes in the current conflict had, in part, stemmed from the totality of her studies into Revan's tactics, started during an ill-advised week after Foerost where she had studied Revan's campaigns during the Mandalorian Wars, sustaining herself with only caffa and the Force. There was logic, as disturbing and progressively bloody, to everything he did. She could almost even understand why he had ordered the usage of the Mass Shadow Generator at Malachor V. Though, she always wondered if he would have done it if he had known the price General Surik would pay. A few reports she had stumbled upon spoke of a very un-Jedi-like relationship between the two. One, if she were not so focused on being a disciplined Jedi, would make her seriously wonder what life beyond the Order was like.
Bastila shook her head, driving away the dark and corrupting thoughts. Instead, she turned to the Code. Not the Code as taught to her as a girl on Dantooine, but another version that resonated with her and brought comfort whenever she felt doubts bubble up. She had, in the months before Revan's return and the Attack on Foerost, convinced Grand Master Sunrider to accompany her on a pilgrimage to Tython. Nomi had been kind enough to not record their path through the Deep Core to the ancient homeworld of the Jedi. A sign of trust, the older Jedi had said. It was through the Force that she had found the route through the dangerous region of space, and it was there she had discovered an ancient form of the Jedi Code. It was this one she now used, mentally reciting it for it worked wonders to ground her:
Emotion, yet peace.
Ignorance, yet knowledge.
Passion, yet serenity.
Chaos, yet harmony.
Death, yet the Force.
"We're about to land," a soft voice whispered. Bastila's eyes opened and she looked up at Master Vrook. He was looking outside and scowling something fierce. Ah, the Chancellor. And where he goes, the press is quick to follow.
She steeled herself for what was the come. The shuttle landed and, following behind Master Vrook, stepped onto the large landing platform. It was here they would board the gunship transport up to their frigate detail in orbit. From there, they would join with Admiral Troan Tarntine and his Seventh Task Force—five cruisers, four destroyers, ten frigates, and thirteen corvettes—to make the three hyperspace jumps to the Sernpidal System, where in seven days, the Third Imperial Fleet would arrive to secure the system's loyalty in a campaign to capture and/or destroy the Dantooine Enclave. And among the ships of the Third was the target flagship: the Revanchist. Darth Revan had used it since the final year of the Mandalorian Wars. It was unique among the score of massive silver ships the Sith Empire favored.
Bastila could see the layout of the Revanchist, the route they would take from the forward shuttle bay to the bridge, a dozen meters above the hull's top. Her battle meditation would get them aboard and, should everything work as planned, back to the Seventh before the Sith could destroy them to the last ship.
That assumes things go according to plan.
Bastila shoved the doubtful thought away and forced a light smile onto her face. The press was already swarming and she suspected this very moment was going out live via the HoloNet. There were a few holocams floating about, most connected to droids deployed by the largest media conglomerates. For a brief moment, she wondered if Revan would be watching. She almost wanted him to. It was a dumb, silly idea she realized.
"General Shan," greeted Admiral Forn Dodonna. "Your promotion is well deserved." The older woman had been one of the few officers that had survived Revan three times—once at Malachor V, then again when he left for the Unknown Regions, and finally upon his return as the Dark Lord.
I would much rather work with her than Admiral Tarntine. She respects the opinions of her Jedi peers and challenges poor ideas. Fighting with Revan did her good during the Mandalorian Wars.
"Thank you, Admiral Dodonna. It's a pleasure to meet you once more." They exchanged polite nods. "Do you know which ship we'll be assigned to?"
"Admiral Tarntine is keeping that close to his chest. It's for the best, though." Dodonna leaned closer to Bastila and whispered, "One of the Admiralty was assassinated this morning. We suspect that raving droid you stopped is responsible, though we have yet to confirm it's involvement. We do know that everything leads back to a single source."
"Revan," Bastila murmured.
Dodonna nodded with a stern frown.
"General Shan?" called the Chancellor. "If you could come speak to the press?"
"A moment, Chancellor," she responded. Bastila turned back to Dodonna and said, "Stay safe, Admiral, and may the Force be with you."
"And with you, General. You will need it."
Bastila nodded and then crossed to where the Chancellor and a few senators waited. She didn't know their names, but recognized one as a Duros and another as a Rodian. She briefly wondered if the Senator for Iridonia was with them, but there was little time to greet them and learn which worlds they represented. There was a brief exchange of nods and then she turned to the Chancellor.
"Good day, Chancellor." Her eyes scanned the press. There were probably thirty of them packed onto the platform with microphones and cameras and whatever else. The shuttle from the Jedi Temple was departing, the rest of her fellows circling around the press to reach where their shuttle to the Task Force would come and go from.
"And to you, General. The press have a few questions for you."
More like twenty, Bastila thought bitterly. She pushed it aside and turned to them.
"I will answer a few, then I must depart. My shuttle will be arriving soon."
An aging human in fine teal robes shouted above the crowd. "General Shan, this is for The Republica. Do you have any estimates on how much longer the war will go on for?"
"I cannot say what the Jedi Council's opinion on the matter is, but High Command believes the war should be over by next year. In the upcoming months there will be campaigns to turn the tide and push Revan's Sith Empire back into the Mid Rim and then the Outer Rim.
"Next?"
"Galactica News," a lanky Muun called out. "After the death of Darth Malak at your hands, does the Navy or the Jedi plan to use you against Darth Revan?"
"The Navy is of the mind that my presence is necessary to take down Revan, yes. While I cannot confirm it, I personally believe they think I must be there when Revan is defeated—perhaps even be the one to strike him down. The Council, however, is of the opinion that I could do more harm than good should I encounter Revan. With the death of his apprentice, he will be seeking out one powerful in the Force to replace Malak as his right hand and chief enforcer. And with what we know of the Sith, the Council has come to an…unsettling conclusion."
"It sounds as if they believe he would target you," the Muun filled in. The other press members murmured.
Perceptive, Bastila thought. She said, "The Council is of an opinion similar to that, yes. Whether it is true, I cannot say. Unlike what some say about me on the HoloNet, I do not know Revan's mind as if it were my own."
Atris would disagree, but she is quick to judge and slow to change her opinions.
To her surprise, that garnered a few chuckles.
Was that humorous? Is there something I'm missing?
"Last question," a dark skinned, female human said. "You did say a few and you Jedi are always so busy." Many of her fellow journalists groaned. Bastila smiled with relief. It was almost over. "Given your successes in this war, I was wondering why you never joined the Mandalorian Wars? You are of an age as General Surik and she, while important to the Republic war effort, never achieved the same level of…results as you have in this war."
Bastila pursed her lips. She glanced over the crowd towards Master Vrook, who had his arms crossed and was glaring daggers at the reporter.
The gunship to the battle group had yet to arrive.
"I was there when Me…the Exile was recruited by Malak to fight in the Mandalorian Wars," Bastila began. Her eyes scanned the crowd of journalists. They watched her like mynocks, hungry and patient even in the cold of space. "I…spoke of the Council's wisdom in not intervening in the war." There were some hisses. Another reminder of the growing gap between the Jedi and the people we have sworn to protect. "Even so, I would have stayed if I were to repeat that day. It would be folly not to suspect the powers that allowed Revan to turn so many good Jedi to the Dark Side and join his selfish cause of conquest."
"Yes, well, I believe the General must go," the Chancellor said. He was right, for the gunship had finally arrived on the platform. Bastila made her way towards it, skirting around the journalists as they threw all sorts of questions at her. Only one—"If you had joined the Revanchists, would you have turned against the Republic?"—stuck with her as she boarded the shuttle with her fellow Jedi.
"I am heading straight for my cabin once we're aboard and taking a long soak," Bastila said, rubbing her arms. There were several snorts. She found a corner seat and slumped into it. "It could be a hundred years before I next speak with a journalist and it will be too soon."
"It's undignified, subjecting you to something like that," the nearest Knight said. "Revan going before the press of his own volition is one thing, but the Chancellor letting them ambush you while preparing for a major mission that'll change the course of the war? It's unsightly."
"Yes, well, I apparently have been helping his numbers," Bastila snarled. "The Senate was close to ousting him from the Chancellorship before I begun winning battles for the Republic. Then again, this isn't the first time they've interfered with a Jedi everyone proclaims Savior of the Republic."
"Be mindful of your emotions, Knight Shan," Master Vrook reprimanded.
She sighed, working her shoulders to release her frustrations. "Yes, Master Vrook." With that, Bastila rested against the gunship's interior, feeling the shakes as they passed through the atmosphere to reach the steady draw of orbit around the industrial planet.
Soon your empire will fall, Revan. I hope you have the wisdom to turn from your path, or else you shall fall with it.