Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars
Revan looked around the grim cantina. The dancers seemed to wilt as much as dance and the usually upbeat music seemed horrendously depressing (despite being the exact same music you heard in every cantina). The patrons weren't any cheerier. Even the ones playing pazaak either looked depressed or homicidal.
When he'd set out in order to investigate the new threat that he'd felt might threaten the galaxy, he'd known that he'd have to travel through some pretty rough planets; especially as he was heading to unknown space. That meant landing on planets at the furthest reaches of known space in order to pick up supplies, fuel and hopefully information.
Glancing around the cantina he decided it was just too depressing to stay for a drink and got up to leave, ready to head back to the ship. However a lone figure at the bar caught his attention. She was obviously a regular; he could tell by the way the bartender kept filling up her glass without comment. She also looked horribly familiar. Almost reluctantly Revan made his way over to the bar and sat down beside her.
She was thinner than when he'd last seen her and her once long hair now hung to just below her chin in an uneven, self-cut kind of way. Yet there was no mistaking his old General.
"What do you want?" Her voice slurred slightly from the drink and she turned in her seat to look at him. He really wished she hadn't. Eyes that had once looked at him with fierce determination now looked dead. Gone was the cocky stance, the jedi robes and the double-bladed silver lightsaber that had once caused enemies running for cover. Gone was the warrior the Mandalorians had once feared almost as much as they'd feared him. Gone was his General. What was left was a broken women smelling strongly of alcohol.
He could feel it too. The void that the Force had once filled. He remembered the reports that had come to him after Malachor V. How they reported how his general had gone fleeing back to the Council and how they had exiled her. Seeing her in front of him now made him realise why they had done so. A jedi without the Force was like a man without a soul. Just sitting next to her made him recoil with disgust.
He rose quickly, making his way towards the door. She hadn't recognized him, he was safe to leave. He almost ran into the last few feet out the door and into the air. Taking several deep breaths of air, he allowed the panic that had filled him to recede, leaving only disgust behind. But it wasn't aimed at her this time. It was aimed at himself.
He had failed her. He had known when he sent her to Malachor V that it would destroy her in some way. He sent her anyway, determined to win against the Mandalorians at all costs so that he could then wage war on the jedi who'd sat and done nothing as his home planet and so many others had been destroyed. His General, his beautiful, brave General had paid dearly for it.
Once they had been padawans together. Once they had sneaked away from training to go drinking in the rougher areas of Datooine. They'd each had their first hangover the next day and were forced to clean the training room together as punishment from Master Vrook. Once he had thought that they were perfect for each other. That after they had defeated the Mandalorians and taken their revenge on those who had betrayed them, they could rebuild the Jedi Order together.
Steeling himself for some unknown battle he made to turn back into the cantina to fetch his General. He would get her out of the cantina and look after her. Maybe she could come with him and he could try and heal the void he felt within her. It would be horrendous having to feel that void until it was breached, but it was the least he could put up with after what he'd done to her.
She came stumbling out just as he was about to push open the door. Her eyes took him in, but did not recognise. She pulled out her vibrosword, and Revan was sure she was about to try and cut him down until she aimed clumsily for something behind him. Turning he saw two thugs sneaking up on him, looking for a victim to mug. Pulling out a blaster he shot both in the leg and they limped away quickly.
He caught the Exile's arm as she stumbled while attempting to throw her sword at the thugs retreating backs. It was a move he remembered she'd done so often with her lightsaber, but the sword was not a good substitute. Revan knew that despite his good intentions he couldn't take her with him, couldn't make up for what he'd done. She was like a child playing at being a jedi and would only endanger herself.
Still, he would do what he could. Catching her drunken form as it passed out he carried her to the best hotel in the area and paid for the room for the next three nights, giving he ample time to recover from the beast of a hangover she was going to have the next morning.
As he left he bent down to press a swift kiss to her forehead and tuck a substantial amount of credits into her pockets.
"Goodbye, Exile."
AN: This story came about because in a moment of stupidity I bought the second Kotor and played it all the way through before realising there was a game before it. As such I'm more fond of the Exile than Revan, mainly because she's my first Kotor character. It always seemed to me that if she ever met Revan again then he or she had quite a bit to answer for.