Knights of the Old Republic and Knights of the Old Republic are the property of LucasArts and BioWare and Obsidian respectively. Only any original characters that might pop up are mine, all who appear in the Star Wars Universe are not, nor do I claim them to be. I'm not making a dime off of this, so please don't sue...
This is my first stab at the KotOR fandom and I admit to being a little rusty at fic-writing as a whole. :) It's been a while. But the only way to get better is to do it, right? I fully welcome and appreciate constructive criticism. If you like, please let me know. Keeps the muses moving. If you don't like, also let me know. If this isn't worth continuing, I'll work on a term paper instead. :) Thanks.
Bao-Dur struggled to maintain repulsor power as the Ebon Hawk began slipping from its makeshift moors on the surface of Malachor V. The shriek of rock against metal drowned out his voice as he shouted through his comlink to the cockpit.
"Atton, that's all I can give you!" he ground out, hanging onto the hyperdrive housing in the engine room as the ship began to lurch sickeningly to the side. Then, the shrieking stopped and the ship seemed to go silent and weightless in a surreally infinite moment before loose boulders began raining against the top of the Hawk, seeming to push it down faster.
The engine groaned and Bao-Dur's stomach dropped as he felt the repulsors kick in, slowing their descent. He only wished they were slowing faster. The Ebon Hawk began to level out, the artificial gravity resetting itself allowing the Zabrak engineer to get his footing again. He shrugged off his brief wave of vertigo before hastily making his way to the cockpit. T3-M4, ever diligent in his repair duties, was already moving past him and into the engine room he was exiting. He wasn't prepared for the sting of grief he felt at the thought of the droid. Made him think of his little Remote, probably already crushed beneath the collapsing weight of the doomed planet.
Bao-Dur wove his way through the corridors and through the main hold to the bridge, cursing with every swerve of the ship. He was secretly very glad that it was Atton piloting and not him. The poor kid was probably sweating blaster bolts.
He stumbled onto the bridge to a scene he hardly expected. Instead of flying by the seat of his pants, Atton was poised in the pilot's seat, looking entirely focused. The Disciple looked about the same, having claimed the copilot's seat, with Mira hanging on to his seatback. All three were completely silent, eyes glued to the barren landscape outside.
"Is it ready?" Atton asked. Bao-Dur nodded before finding his voice.
"Just waiting for the signal. But I still think this is a mistake."
"What choice do we have?" Interjected the Disciple.
"I know," Bao-Dur replied grimly as Visas entered the now crowded cockpit.
"Something has happened," Visas noted softly, her voice barely audible over the sound of the engines. The pelting of rocks on the hull had slowed as the tremor that loosed the ship stopped altogether. Atton slowed the Hawk and settled on hovering for the moment in a larger clearing in the crevasse.
"I felt it, too. Like a yell and a whisper all at once," said Mira, her eyes closing. Bao-Dur, having grown used to the overall Jedi-ness of his companions was unfazed by the declarations and simply waited for elaboration.
"A wound made and healed…" added the Disciple.
Atton shook his head. "You know, all you guys had to say was 'You know Sleeps-With-Vibroblades? We think he's dead' and left it at that." Bao-Dur quirked a half grin.
"Sleeps-With-Vibroblades?" The Disciple asked. Mira masked a smile. Obviously something happened somewhere along the way that only Atton and Mira of their group seemed to get. Probably on Korriban or something…
"Darth Sion," added Visas. "He is dead."
"Better him than her," Mira stated.
The Disciple nodded and gazed out the window at the chasm that held them. "Somehow I doubt he will have been her greatest challenge today."
"There is no dishonor in any of these choices," Kreia said. The Exile examined her mentor—former mentor, manipulator, betrayer—critically. Tien's mind raced as she weighed her options, but in her heart, past the hurt and confusion, past the latent admiration and trust that she and Kreia had somehow built along the way, she knew that whatever she said now really didn't matter. Not in any way that would affect anyone but herself and the woman before her in the last moments of their lives.
Malachor V was dying. Again. And would take its occupants with it shortly. She wondered idly if what Kreia had told her of the future had been the truth or placating words. Tien closed her eyes and sighed. No… her teacher had always been brutally honest, never weakened by charity, fiscal or otherwise. The Exile took some measure of comfort in that—she knew now that at least she wouldn't bring her friends down with her here.
"Why did you not follow her?" She asked finally. Kreia regarded her thoughtfully for a moment before replying.
"If she had asked, would I have gone? I do not know. Perhaps you will go and fight with her at the end of all things, but I stayed behind to show others the way."
"And what is the way?"
"Only Revan knows where the fight would lead her. But I do know this: She will need allies with her, Jedi to help her fight the true Sith at the edge of the galaxy."
Tien nodded, having already decided that if this had been a survivable situation, that she would follow Revan, as she had a decade earlier, though now older, wiser, and with far more noble reasons. But Bao-Dur had helped the Republic forces destroy this planet once, and she knew he was poised to do it again. She had known, at least in part, that this had been a suicide mission, no matter what hope her friends might have held.
"Rest now, Kreia," The Exile whispered as her teacher fell to her knees.
Tien pulled her comlink from one of the folds of her robes. "Okay, little droid. Do your stuff."
Within a few seconds, the cavernous core of the Trayus Academy began to crumble around her.
"There," said Visas, pointing out the front window to an opening in the rock. Atton saw it and immediately accelerated upwards, silently praying for the Hawk to hold together for just a few more minutes. He could feel her… almost hear her resignation as the flicker in the Force he knew as Kreia blinked, then blew out altogether.
"Up. Atton, go up! Bao-Dur… somebody, go open the hatch." Mira turned herself around and followed her own suggestion, grabbing Bao-Dur by the shoulder on the way. She heard the Disciple spin out of the copilot's chair to join them.
Atton carefully navigated the chasm, rising through the gap left by pieces of the planet literally falling away. Then he saw her standing on a crumbling platform as the Ebon Hawk rose from the depths of the dying planet. Through the front windows, he saw the surprise on her face and time seemed to stop as he stared at her and she stared back. Like she was actually deciding whether to stay or go. Atton narrowed his eyes at her and tilted his head in question. She looked away from him and started running for the Hawk's main hatch. He hoped it was still functioning—after all the damage they'd taken, he was amazed the ship was still flying at all. He guessed they'd see how operational the environmental systems were when they broke from the atmosphere…
"We've got her. Get us out of here!" Bao-Dur's voice came over the comm system and Atton didn't hesitate. As Visas climbed into the co-pilot's seat and strapped herself in, Atton pulled up as hard as he could and sighed with relief as the ship began climbing through the atmosphere.
Atton watched the Exile and the Disciple from the threshold of the dormitory, silently leaning against the side of the corridor. They were seated on the floor where Kreia would meditate. The Disciple looked up and saw him, raising his eyebrow and offering Atton a small smile. Atton uncrossed his arms and smiled back, pushing off the wall as the Disciple rose from the floor. Despite his early hostility toward the other man, Atton had to admit that his respect for the Jedi had grown during their travels. They'd cultivated a certain understanding between them, he supposed.
Tien opened her eyes at her companion's movement. The Disciple looked down at her and gripped her shoulder lightly before making his way out of the room. As he passed Atton, he stopped. "She needs us," he said in a low voice. "Don't let her make you think otherwise." Atton looked at him, confused, but the historian just smiled at him again in that perplexing and infuriating way. Atton chose to ignore it—this time—and instead walked into the room, joining Tien on the floor.
"So…" he said, "I didn't know where you wanted to go, so I just set a course for Telos… I mean, we don't actually have to dock or anything, but… maybe we can put in for repairs there."
"That's fine, Atton. Thank you."
Atton winced at her dead tone. She'd closed her eyes again, obviously trying to ignore him so he'd go away. The Disciple's words to him were starting to make a little more sense. He sighed and figured that if she wasn't going to talk, he may as well.
"Well," he exhaled heavily. "You're alive."
He glanced over at his friend, only to find her still actively trying to make him think she wasn't listening. Undeterred, he continued. "I guess that bond thing between you and Kreia wasn't as strong as you thought… I mean, she's dead and you're not. Wonder why that is?"
She opened one eye and glanced quickly at him before closing it again and resuming her "meditation."
Time to bring out the big guns, Atton thought. Feelings. "I know… you probably already had this heart-to-heart with the Disciple." He sighed. "Look, I'm not any good at all this spiritual stuff. We both know that. But I am learning… thanks to you, I really am learning, Tien. And I know when there's something wrong. I'm not a mind reader… well, not yet, anyway…"
Tien snorted. Atton smiled. "So what do you think?" he asked.
Tien sighed, opening her eyes and turning to face him. "I think you were right all along, Atton. She was manipulating me… us… from the beginning."
"What does the Disciple think happened? And what the hell is his name anyway?" Tien let out a staccato chortle at that.
"I don't know. On either question. We didn't talk about it. We were just meditating. Kreia and I did definitely have a… bond. I felt her death… very, very strongly. He was helping me to center myself."
"Ah."
Tien grinned, but said nothing, enjoying a moment of comfortable silence.
"I never told you what happened in that tomb on Duxn," Atton said, finally.
"Just that you learned something you already knew."
"The past is a funny thing. You live your life one way, believe one thing and fight against another… then one day, something happens and… the past isn't just… the past anymore. It's a whole different life… belonging to someone you don't even know. I knew that the day I left the Sith… but I learned it in that tomb."
"I'm intrigued. What exactly happened? You came out… different," Tien asked.
"The first thing was an accident, really. I wandered to this… patch. Of anger, hatred, pain… so loud and strong that it felt alive… like a disease with a will and it wanted to consume everything that touched it. And I wasn't afraid. I faced it, Tien, and came out stronger for it."
"A concentration of Dark Side energy. A manifestation of corruption… and difficult to resist."
Atton nodded and continued. "Then in the main chamber… that great disturbance that Kreia felt… it was a Sith Lord and some Dark Jedi performing some kind of ritual. I don't know what it was or what it did… but the Dark Lord… he confronted us. He must have felt the Force in me too, because he actually started soliciting the glory and grandeur of the dark side."
"I take it you would have none of that," Tien mused. Atton smiled. Tien had shifted her position from her meditation pose entirely, having propped her elbow on her knee and holding her chin in her open palm, rapt.
"Of course not. In fact, I started soliciting the peace and power of the light side." Atton's face suddenly grew more serious. "And I really meant it, too. There was a time… most of my life, in fact, where I wouldn't have cared for a second, wouldn't have given a second thought to the idea of salvation of souls. But in that tomb, I truly tried to convince that Sith that he could be saved. And I truly wanted to save him. I really wasn't just saying the words… I believed them. I knew how the dark side really felt, and I can honestly say that I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. You know, I don't think I've ever said that and actually meant it before. Of course, he didn't really want to listen…"
"One cannot be saved unless, deep inside, one really wants to be saved. It's so important that you tried, Atton."
Atton nodded in understanding and sighed, taking a moment to compose his thoughts. Tien smiled to herself, a sense of peace washing over her at hearing Atton's confession. She'd always had faith in him and it helped to know he finally had that same faith in himself.
"You're going to take off and follow Revan, aren't you?"
Tien choked. "I'm sorry?" she gasped. Atton looked at her closely, watching her face for her now-familiar tells. Her eyes darted quickly away from his. She knew exactly what he was talking about. And he was right… and she hadn't been planning on mentioning her plans to anyone.
"The Disciple and I don't see eye to eye on very much, but he's got a point," he said.
"About what, pray tell?" Tien replied, not even trying to mask the indignant tone of her voice.
"You need us. He warned me that you might try and convince me that you don't. I figured I'd beat you to the punch. We are right, though, aren't we? You're planning on leaving… just like she left them. Left him."
"Yes."
"And that's it? That's all you have to say?"
"What do you want me to say, Atton? That I want you there, that I want to stay with you, with you and the Disciple, Mira and Visas and T3 and Bao-Dur? Or maybe you want me to say that I'm walking away? That I've done my part and I won't do anything more now but hide? I can't do that, Atton." Tien sighed. "Not after we've come so far."
"I would never ask you to walk away. I don't think you're even capable of that anymore. But I don't understand why you feel you have to go alone."
"I just do, Atton. I won't put you at that kind of risk. You all… you have too much to live for, and I won't be responsible for taking that away from you." Tien paused. "I understand now one of Kreia's lessons that I resisted… Every action has consequences… for other people. Impacting one life impacts the lives of everyone that life has ever touched, on into eternity. Like a great tree, branching out in every direction."
"You're starting to sound suspiciously like that old witch…"
Tien shook her head. "I've never wanted to do anything but help people… that's why I went to fight in the Mandalorian Wars, that's why I accepted my exile, why we fought for Khoonda and Queen Talia… but for all that good intention, what was the result? Hurt, millions of lost lives, the destruction of whole planets, Malachor V, Darth Traya, Atris' fall, Darth Nihilus and his hunger, the death of Katarr… The good doesn't outweigh the bad—it doesn't even come close. So perhaps it would be best if my decisions affected no one but myself from now on. As much as I hate to admit it, Kreia was right."
"I've never known you to second guess yourself, Tien."
"I'm not second guessing myself. I'm admitting I was wrong. There's a difference."
"Isn't that what you're doing anyway? Now. By deciding for us where we will and will not go? Deciding that we're not going is just the same as deciding that we are…"
"I'm protecting you."
Atton spun toward her in surprise. "Oh, really? And who will there be to protect you?"
"I don't need protection."
"Oh, so now you're going all 'great Jedi' on me? When did you suddenly grow that inflated ego?"
"This is not about ego!" Tien stood up, her stance about as angry as Atton had ever seen from her. He followed her to his feet.
"Then what is it?" he asked, looking down at her. She turned away. "What?" Atton whispered, his expression softening as he stepped toward her. She remained silent, though, and wholly unable to look him in the eye.
Atton closed his eyes, standing silently in the room trying to figure out, pinpoint exactly where things had gone so wrong, exactly where his friend had so firmly decided that alone was better and damn those she… those that cared about her.
He felt an arm snake around his back and a head drop to his shoulder. Her dirty blonde hair barely brushed his chin and he opened his eyes, resting his chin on her head. He wrapped his own arms around her and held her silently, not really knowing what else to do.
"Everything okay?" Mira asked, turning as the Disciple entered the cockpit.
The Disciple sighed and ran a hand through his blond hair. "I hope so."
"Well, we're almost there. Most of the fleet is still in orbit around Telos, so we should be in for a welcome."
"It'll be fine. And, if the Admiral's still on Telos, we might be able to find a little more direction. If there's anyone who knows where Revan's gone, it's him. Or he knows who does know."
"Direction? Don't you think you're jumping to conclusions just a bit?" Mira asked, glancing over at him skeptically. All she'd hoped for on Citadel Station was a nice warm docking bay and an empty refresher with her name on it…
"What did you think was going to happen next? That we'd come back to a hero's welcome and live happily ever after? I'm afraid this whole ordeal is far from over…"
"Oookay… let's back up for a minute and address your liberal application of the term 'we."
The Disciple looked back at her, surprised. "Well… I assumed you would want to come…"
"Come where? Off to the Unknown Regions? Tell me this… does it bother you at all, what we've been doing?" She lounged in the pilot's seat, letting the autopilot do its job. She stretched her arms up, working out the soreness that had started building throughout her body since her confrontation with Hanharr. Medpacks and Jedi healing were wonderful, but there was really only so much they could do… "Besides," she continued, "you seem pretty convinced that you're going. I kind of got the impression that she doesn't want company."
"Bother me? No, not at all… And as far as not wanting company, we'll see. Why are you asking me this?"
"You don't feel… different… here? Like you're not quite in control of yourself? Around Tien?"
"You think she's somehow controlling our actions?" The Disciple asked.
Mira thought for a moment. "I've talked with her… I've seen her do things for people, wonderful things… Seen the risks she's taken to make things better… I… I believe in what she's doing, in what we're doing, but sometimes I wonder why. I've done things since I joined you that I don't think I would have done before, felt things that I wouldn't have felt before… And I wonder why."
"Perhaps you're thinking about this too… corporeally," the Disciple mused cautiously.
"Corporeally," Mira replied skeptically. The Disciple took a deep breath.
"Let me try to explain. Maybe you're giving one person too much credit. Granted, Tien is a powerful woman and builds bonds with the people closest to her easily. But what is it that makes that possible? Kreia explained it before and I hadn't caught on then… but the Force seems to have a will, Mira. Maybe what you need to attribute these changes to is not any single person, but the Force itself, acting through her, through all of us," the Disciple looked at the scout beside him, hoping he'd managed to make some sense and helped to put his friend's mind at ease.
Mira looked back at him with questions written all over her face. "Is the Force alive? Sentient?" she asked. The Disciple pondered the question for a moment, wondering if it was wise for him to be carrying on a philosophical discussion of such importance with Mira, considering his own lack of training. But as it turned out, it was an idea he'd often wondered about himself.
"I don't know," was the only really honest answer he could give her. "Sometimes it really seems like it… the Force does seem to have a will of its own—intentions and means to ends. But sometimes it seems more like a tool. I suppose it all depends on how you chose to use it. Whether you ask it to help you as an equal or bend it to your own will, objectifying it and turning it into something less than what it is."
"Is the dark more powerful, or the light?" the Disciple turned his head away from Mira for a moment and raised his eyebrows in a brief expression of frustration. She'd absorbed one topic and moved right onto the next, with barely a transition to bridge the gap.
"You know, maybe that's something you should ask Tien…" he answered. Mira shook her head.
"Right now, I think she probably wants the answers to the very same questions I'm asking. Let's face it, things are not exactly ideal right now. When I reach out for her… all I feel is confusion. Like she's just as lost as anyone else," the redhead replied. The Disciple found himself unable to disagree.
"I… I'm no expert, Mira. I can only tell you what I believe… whether or not that belief is worth something, I really couldn't tell you…"
"Can I tell you what I believe?" she said, turning to him with the most… focused expression he'd ever seen on her face outside of battle.
"Of course."
"I think the dark side is slavery."
The Disciple remained silent, waiting for her to explain.
Mira continued, satisfied that she had his attention. "If the Force has life to it… If it really is something with a will of its own… and someone… twists it and uses it… forces it to do something against its… well, will… couldn't that be slavery? Couldn't that… perversion… be just as bad or worse as using and twisting people against their wills?"
Her companion nodded. "But then… is it possible for the light side to work in an opposite fashion? Could the will of the Force not twist its wielders in the same way, but to a morally right way? Can it exert its own influence against the will of others, as you feel it's done for you? And does the fact that this particular twist guides one in a morally righteous direction, does that make it actually right?" he countered. Mira's jaw dropped.
"I hadn't thought of it like that," she replied. The Disciple mentally winced. Perhaps that particular philosophical musing had been better left unshared. "So what? This whole Jedi thing is lose-lose?"
"I suppose that all goes back to what you believe," said the Disciple. "I don't know about you, but I'm not doing the right thing against my will. As far as I'm concerned, I'm not a slave to the Force, but a companion to it. What are you?" He looked at her pointedly. Mira took a breath and turned away, biting nervously at her thumbnail.
"My brain hurts," she finally replied, turning back to him with a pleading look on her face, like she wanted him to just tell her the right answer so she could stop thinking about it.
The man grinned. "Of course it does. This whole 'Jedi thing' is not easy. Nor is it supposed to be."
Mira snorted. "Now there's an understatement."
"Are we there yet?"
Mira and the Disciple turned around in their chairs to see Atton stride into the cockpit, Tien appearing behind him, unusually drawn and silent.
The Disciple glanced back at the console to find that they were, in fact, minutes away from re-entering normal space near Telos.
"Um… yes, actually. Should just be a few more minutes."
Atton turned to Tien. "Are we docking?" he asked her. She nodded.
"Yes. And if you wouldn't mind contacting Lieutenant Grenn…"
"Sure. No problem," Atton replied softly. Tien gave him a small smile before making her way back out of the small room. Atton and the Disciple looked at each other. Atton shook his head and met his friend's eyes again. "I'm worried."
The Disciple merely nodded before rising from his chair, motioning Mira to join him. Atton sat down in the seat Mira vacated, and prepared to take the Ebon Hawk out of hyperspace.