CAUTION: This story contains immediate spoilers for Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic. If you haven't already played the game and somehow made it here without having the storyline ruined already, I implore you to go play it first. The fic will still be here in a few weeks, you have my word. I will never delete my writing, for any reason.
Author's Notes: Yes, another one. Because KotOR is just so incredible, it can't be contained in any one fiction. This is my third KotOR fanfiction attempt, and as you can see I'm getting a bit more daring with each one.
This one is WAY alternate-universe-y, though the initial events will play out moderately close to the original it's going to diverge way farther and way faster than Fall With Me did. (That was close to a playthrough log at first, my first ever attempt at longform fanfiction, and I was a bit timid about 'ruining' canon. No longer.)
As it has been a matter of confusion, this will not be a powerful!Revan carving his way through the galaxy with lightsaber and Force. He's restricted and limited in power, and will remain such for a long time. If he does ever regain his active command of the Force, it will not ever be as strong as he once was. The damage done to him in this version is not so easily reversible.
This is not a canon-compliant or necessarily canon-divergent story. This is an alternate version of the universe. Characters' motivations may be different from canon: this is deliberate.
Please note: Like Revans Reborn, this one will be updated sporadically as the whim strikes me. I cannot commit to updating regularly on multiple projects, and Fall With Me remains my primary priority.
That's it, I think. Hope you like it, and please let me know what you think!
It was absurd.
The thought kept drifting through me, the facets of the problem twinkling the same in any light or at any angle. There was no way this could be accepted as a plausible future, as an actual event.
A Jedi strike team managed to slip aboard my ship to confront me. And at the same time, my faithful friend and apprentice chose to turn on me?
The damage to my ship was minimal, I knew. Malak's attack threw out the grav-gen, the ship lurched and I lost my balance. Still, I was far stronger than all the Jedi that had come against me. Even without my mastery of the Force, even with only a single ceremonial blade to hand, there should have been no contest whatsoever between us.
It was absurd. How had I been defeated so easily?
Something was very wrong. Ripples of Force, of memory, of the past and the future, twisted around in the darkness of my thoughts. I tried to see the problem from another angle, in another light, but no matter how much the events of my defeat were examined they just didn't match with anything I could claim as reality.
Fact: I am locked within myself, my mind and body separated, and strongly enough that I cannot force myself to wholeness.
Conjecture: I have been defeated.
Event One: Jedi strike team - how in the world could the Jedi have infiltrated my ship in the first place? I have protocols in place. I am a strategic genius. I can sense strong Force users at a distance far greater than the simple confines of my ship.
Event Two: Malak betrays me - why? Did he sense the Jedi strike team from his ship away, sense the threat to me even when I couldn't?
It was absurd. Try as I might, I could come to no reasonable theory for my current obviously-defeated state.
Or was it not defeat, perhaps? Something I'd chosen to do?
It could be an advanced Force state, withdrawing into myself to protect my core identity from something. Torture, perhaps? Though something so traumatizing would probably have left at least some memory trace. I experimented with advanced meditation from time to time, but never even heard of one so deep that even the one initiating it couldn't return.
Something was very wrong. I just could not make the facts and threads line up. This was not normal for me. See strategic genius. I understood things instinctively, made connections others would have had to grasp for.
But now, I couldn't. Now, I was lost in confusion and uncertainty.
My thoughts lurched, stretched. I panicked for an instant, then recognized the pull. Someone was trying to reconnect my drifting mind to my physical body. I could resist, but remembered no reason to do so. The possibility that I was only rushing to my own destruction held no terror for me, only a faint curiosity.
Something was very wrong, and I couldn't figure out what it was. Perhaps this deep meditation or whatever it was actually hindered my thoughts from coalescing properly. I slid back toward completeness, my mind and body no longer split apart.
Melar Serav, hyperspace scout. Searching for a new route that would bypass Taris. Hired by the Republic to join an escort mission in the area because I need the credits.
WHAT?!
I pulled away instinctively, trying to shake off the afterimages of that memory. What? No! I was Lord Revan, conqueror of the galaxy. Not a hyperspace scout. Wasn't I?
Delusions of grandeur, but too cowardly to join either side in the conflict. Only accepted the escort mission because I *really* need the credits.
No, no, no! This was wrong, wrong. But the tug came again, more insistent, drawing me out of my hiding place within myself.
Conjecture: Mental reprogramming. Disjointed memories, because partially successful. Core identity uncertain. Captors, unknown. Jedi? Malak? Why, how. . .?
"Wake up, Melar!"
"NO!" I shouted, jumping to my feet. The sudden motion and my unfamiliarity with the area sent my head into a spinning ache, everything blurred dizzily around me and I stumbled to my knees.
"Uh, are you alright?"
"NO!" I yelled again, waving my hand to keep him away. "What. . . What. . ." I was in a ship, Republic-style. Crew quarters?
"We've been ambushed—"
"No! Shut up, not you. What's happening?" Distant alarms. The shield flickered, repeated impacts.
"The Sith—"
"Quiet!" We were under attack?
"Melar—"
"NO!"
I had to get away. This guy was making my headache worse, and the room still hadn't stopped spinning.
"Fact: No longer on my own ship. Kidnapped?"
"Melar, what are you talking about?!" The man's voice sounded frantic now. "We have to go, the Sith are—"
"LEAVE ME ALONE!" I shrieked. "Conjecture: I'm a prisoner? No, doesn't fit the facts. Strange man trying to confuse me. Interrogation? No. Doesn't make sense. This isn't how an interrogation goes."
"Melar, we have to protect Bastila now, the Sith are boarding—"
"Sith. Boarding." The words sparked my confusion anew. "No, it was the Jedi boarding. Or is that not a fact any longer?"
The man took my arm, hauled me to my feet. "Hurry up and grab your gear. I don't care if you're half asleep, there's no time for this nonsense!"
He gave me a shove toward the footlocker. I stumbled, fell to my knees again, clutched my pounding head in my hands.
"Attack, confusion." My thoughts snapped into clear focus. "Integration. That's what they want. They want the chaos to form a nucleus around which my false identity can stabilize. But which identity is false?"
"Melar—"
"YES, you're right. Melar is obviously false." My thoughts and words shifted from frantic confusion to certainty. "Thank you," I said, rising to my feet and watching the stranger imperiously. "You're dismissed."
"It's our duty to protect—"
I laughed at him. "Duty? No. My only duty is to my followers. You, I can tell, are not one of my followers."
"You're obviously having some kind of episode, but I need you to focus. We are under attack! Get dressed, grab your weapons!"
"No, I think not. I understand everything now. This is a rescue attempt. Your manipulative Jedi mental powers have failed. Did you really think I would believe that Malak would turn on me? You obviously have been laboring under some severely deluded beliefs about Sith hierarchy."
The strange man looked at me like I was crazy.
I looked at him as though he were crazy, and furthermore beneath my concern. Then I crossed to the bed, seated myself for meditation, glared at the stranger. "This is your last chance. You are dismissed."
He looked about ready to drag me down the corridor by force, but the ship shuddered again at the bombardment taking place. He gave one last glance at me, then scowled.
"Fine, I give up. Sit here and die, not my problem." He tapped in the access code, ran off down the hall.
I closed my eyes, plunged myself into the Force. A shining thread of intangible light reflected through my core, my Force Bond to my apprentice.
"Malak," I whispered. "I'm here."
"Melar! What are you doing in my mind?!"
The voice that responded was not Malak's. It was a woman, young by the feel of her, but as strong in potential as anyone I'd met.
And she called me Melar.
I cut off the connection faster than a dropped lightsaber. So that was their plan? They hijacked my bond? Malak wouldn't be able to sense me any longer. He'd think I was dead! This wasn't a rescue, this was revenge.
And I would be tied to this Jedi girl, helpless. Unable to contact anyone.
Fact: The Jedi underestimated the strength of my mind. I am still aware of myself. Either through self-protection or whatever inexplicable event actually led to my capture, my core identity was preserved and strong enough to claim dominance.
Fact: Malak and I are no longer connected. This will lead to problems very quickly for my war effort, without me to lead.
I sighed, stood up, reluctantly put on my explorer's outfit and generic Republic armor. If I was going to be killed, it would not be for stupid reasons like not wearing armor or remaining stubbornly on a doomed ship.
Goal: Find a way to return to Malak. First step: Survive this battle, find a place to consider things more calmly.
I crossed to the door, sealed again automatically. I closed my eyes, replayed in memory the ripples through the Force that corresponded to the movements of the stranger. Access code 3-4-0-2-2-9.
The next door was sealed as well, but my Force sense range was well sufficient to cover the entire ship and then some. My extreme clarity of memory and rapid analysis abilities were a large part of my success, coupled with Malak's own talents and my Force strength.
Malak betrayed me. The Jedi somehow got onto my ship. Is it possible those are actually true?
Doubtful. But I could always sort that out later. Right now, I had to find a shuttle or, barring that, at least an escape pod. This ship was rapidly approaching its limit, and the evacuation of other personnel was almost complete.
Then another Force signature approached, rapidly closing on the ship. Bandon, Malak's understudy, and two other Dark Jedi. Shone and Devre, if I was remembering correctly. All three had bought into Malak's whole 'go bald or go home' mindset.
I didn't mind. After all, I wore a ridiculously overwrought cape and mask. Why bother being Dark Lords if we couldn't play it up a bit?
My first instinct was to go find them, ask for a ride to Malak's ship, and trust that my intimate knowledge of their lives was enough to stop them executing me on the spot.
But they were almost certainly here hunting Jedi, and my powerful Force ability - suppressed and altered as it was - would mark me clearly while not identifying me as their ally. They wouldn't risk bringing me anywhere near Malak, and probably have me restrained for months before I could persuade them of my true identity. If they didn't just kill me.
This was going to be harder than I'd expected.