My Newest Epic
My son, Malak, was five when the end began. By end, specifically, I mean of my career as a Jedi. It came sooner than I had hoped, but later than I expected. It started, as all of these do, with a simple argument.
"Rhea, we have learned of your… indiscretions, and I can't say that we are pleased," Jay the Disciple began. He was talking about her boyfriend.
"But that's not fair! You allowed the Jedi Knights chasing the bandits on the outer rim to have relationships."
"It is a different time, now," he said. Which was true. The Jedi were far more forgiving of the nebulous grey area during times of need. Being too strict could lead their own forces to join the opposition. To say they were consistent is very forgiving. Personally, I believe the Jedi Order fails so completely because it rejects several integral things. The ability to question, to adapt, to change. People will not always agree on specific things and the Jedi Order doesn't allow an individual to question its mandates. Another is the required self sacrifice of all pleasure. I'm not against denying one's self when the occasion calls for it, but the complete and utter lack of even emotional support at times of surplus is… well, borders on idiocy.
As for their avoidance of the grey area, it makes no sense not to be accepting of larger populations when at war and your opposition is accepting of them. You have a girlfriend and want to remain in contact with your family? Go be a Sith! Yes, that was very understanding and forgiving of you. Understandably, I am not the least biased person when it comes to the Jedi Order. But the flaws are important and present and the Order makes no move to mitigate them.
Their policy regarding looking the other way in more recent events is only due to the fact that they were so depleted, and were dealing with a mass of Jedi that were recently Sith.
"Revan, what say do you have in this?" asked Getat, a Master that had renounced the Jedi Order and went into hiding when the other Jedi Masters did. It was quite a time before he felt it safe to come back. I had wandered in my thinking, but I snapped to the present quickly. From that small, mean smile on Getat's face, I could tell that this was another stab at my marital status.
"Personally, I think she should be allowed to keep her boyfriend. She's young, experimenting in many things, and relationships are another part of living and learning."
"Master Revan, I will remind you of the Council's policy in such matters," Jay said. I shrugged.
"You can remind me all you like; frankly, I disagree with them, too." Nothing shocking or not said. Or rather, nothing shocking or not said except to Getat. Getat was from an older school of thought and that in and of itself is dangerous. As for the matter of Rhea, the Council expressed its displeasure but would apply no sanctions. I headed back to my rooms, brooding about Getat and the future.
Carth was there, scowling at something displayed on the monitor. What does a high ranking Admiral do when there are no wars to fight? Easy: bureaucratic nonsense and teaching. "Idiotic, pea brained, student…." Ah, he was involved with the latter. "Oh, hey gorgeous. What's new?" he asked.
"Not a damn thing."
"You sound disappointed."
"Only a little," I replied. Now, I'm not some kind of masochist and am seeking a return of my glory days, but such periods of stagnant grace…our galaxy is not perfect but it is also not changing for the better or the worse. I guess I am always more comfortable with motion than inaction. He laughed, walked over to me, held me. I am not sure how, but our relationship managed to be stable and in motion at once. It was constantly changing yet remaining, at its core, unchanged. Trust without the threat of boredom. Comfortable and exciting. I still adored him.
"I'm going to go lay down. I was thinking I was actually going to try to cook, what with the tyke off at camp. I'll surprise you," I said, thinking of good wine, skimpy clothing, candle light, and horribly mangled foodstuffs.
"Your culinary attempts always surprise me," he said. I knew he was thinking more along the lines of worrying about my ever increasing naps. I'd have just lied and said I was growing old (nearing fifty, amazing), but we both know I use the Force to keep us young. I mean, honestly, Kreia was thousands of years old and still kicking. Of course, she discovered the method only after she wrinkled to all hell. No, nothing quite so blasé for the Great Revan… and no, I don't sound bitter when I say that, honest.
The naps were indicative of a larger problem, the root of which still escapes me. So I laid on our bed, smelling his aftershave (he does shave, honest) and his body on the sheets, then I blocked it out. I opened my mind to the Force and to my ever present visions, focused on the problem at hand, and waited.
Nothing. I had never been failed by my Sight before, to the point that I wondered if I even knew how to sleuth correctly; I relied on it too much. So, I assessed the problem. I searched within myself for the cause of my apparent weakness. I found evidence of what I suspected, that something was siphoning energy from me. What? I have found that the simplest answer is usually correct and let's face it, if this is not sentient than the observed phenomenon would choose its victim at random or by exposure. I am not random, and by exposure would mean more victims than just me. So, not what, but who, what force user or group thereof.
Who? Not the Jedi, there is none of that skill here to my knowledge, and none here would do so for fear of being kicked out (hell, if they consider it if you make out with someone, imagine what they would do if they caught you sucking away another's life?). Not Sith, they are too disjointed. I have been in their ranks and while, yes, there may be factions I did not know of, I am sure they would have been killed in the final assault. Furthermore, the lack of me being able to focus on them in my visions means they have the ability to block me. If they intend the Republic harm, then they have always blocked me. If they intend in some way to assist in my death, well… that I have not as extensively researched, due to the varied and multiple options available; I am much easier to kill than the Republic.
So, the nicely laid out chain of logical deductions leads my back to the original question. Who? I only know of Sith and Jedi, and I am near positive neither of them are responsible. I cannot trace my energy back to whoever is siphoning it, though given time I may be able to. I know that at current I would more than be able to identify who it is on contact; how could I not recognize my own brimming energy? What if they are actually using my visions? Questions and more questions.
They were cut off by a sharp cry and, likely, the answer I was seeking. I rushed from the bedroom to the living room to see a man with a knife on Carth's throat. His arm looked bent in such a way that I knew it was broken, and there were five black clad people ringed behind the man. He was tall, taller than Carth or myself by at least three inches, which is saying a lot when I'm 5'10. He had dark blond hair long enough to be held back by a ponytail and black eyes. He was wearing the same thing his men were, minus the hood and mask.
"You know, that's not a very smart decision," I said. He smiled almost genially and nodded.
"I know. For now, I just want to talk."
"Then maybe you should have picked up the damn phone. I don't do well at polite conversation when the person I'm talking to is holding my husband hostage having already broke his arm." He laughed. Funny, I don't usually want to deck people after only a few seconds of knowing them… well, I supposed that's not technically true.
"We don't believe that the Jedi are… worthy of the Republic, of you, of all the good fortune that has befallen it. We believe it is flawed and we will destroy it. Stand with us."
"Oh, sure, absolutely. As soon as you release my powers."
"I do fear we will have to use that as collateral. You are weakened as we grow strong. You are too powerful to be dealt with otherwise."
"I understand, no, really. In that case, release my visions." He grimaced.
"You would make your decision based upon the good on the Republic. They will not fare well with the war we will impose upon them, and we do not want that to influence you. As for long term consequences, we may not be fully better. We believe the difference may be great in our favor, too similar to that of the Jedi to truly tell, or the war will lead to greater repercussions than we have foreseen. Again, we do not want that to influence your decision."
"You know, you really aren't a very good salesman. I am more and more pro-Jedi with every passing moment. My major guiding criteria are the greater good, the survival of the Republic."
"Why cannot you choose based solely on your views and wants? On what you think is right, not just on what is good for the Republic?"
"Because I believe in the Republic more."
"I see. You would hunt us if we were even minorly detrimental to the future of the Republic. You see why we cannot release your visions?"
"Oh, I'm probably going to hunt you now anyways."
"Tell me, Revan, what would you do if I killed him?"
"I'd kill you, everyone in your party, everyone who had anything to do with his death, everyone in your family, and everyone affiliated with the cause you are using as reason to kill him."
"Good. And if 'everyone who had anything to do with his death' includes the Jedi Council?"
"Does it?"
"I have received money from two different individuals currently on or used to be on the Jedi Council. Why do you heed their edicts when you know they will banish you shortly?"
"Stability of the Jedi, good of the Republic," the tired response.
"I think you must be made aware of the dangers of coming against us, 'Master' Revan. Of the risks we are willing to take. Of what we will do for our cause."
"Killing him will in no way help your cause."
"I know." And then he did it. He slit Carth's throat and let the gushing body fall towards me. He was gone before I caught him and the world became indistinct and hazy with the roar of purple lightning.
Chapter Two
I must have destroyed the room, knocked down a few walls. I could smell concrete and dust, trees and rain, fire and ash. Oddly, I didn't smell blood. Seven bodies on the ground and you'd think I'd be able to.
"Bad vision?" I opened my eyes. I was still in the bed (or what was left of it). Half of the wall was torn away and there was glass in the tree outside our bedroom window. And… there was Carth, blaster in hand, eyes alert and searching the charred room. "Revan? What's going on?"
Never. Never in my life have I not been able to tell the difference. Not even the first time I got drunk (on something a little more than just alcohol) and couldn't tell the difference between the different ends of a pool stick. Not even when I got hit on the head during an outer rim battle and was seeing purple bunnies everywhere. Not even when I was rediscovering my past. I stood there, gaping and shocked, unsure of what to feel, what to think.
"Revan! That's it, I'm calling Bastila." He took a comlink out of his pocket and sat on the ruined bed next to me while he made the call. I was shivering by the time she arrived. Carth folded me into a non-crispy blanket and held on, absently rubbing my shoulder. Bastila didn't even bother with the doorbell, just went straight back. I looked up when she entered.
"For a moment, I didn't feel anything from you. At all. You need to stop blocking me, Revan." Why, so the Jedi can have you spy on the inside of my head? Hush, child, adults are talking here. The audacity, trying to order me about.
"Wasn't me…" I could barely get the words out. She frowned and crossed her arms over her impressive chest.
"Then who?" What, I automatically know everything, Princess? And if so, if I know everything, why are you not bowing? I shook my head meekly, features still set in lines of shock.
"Revan… Revan, are you alright?" Carth asked, one hand turning my face to his so he could see my eyes. I nodded into his hand, eyes still vacant and hurt. Stupid questions and simple people. He was so far beneath me, so open and pathetic. He got over his first wife's death so quickly. How quick would be get over me, someone who isn't the perfect little homemaker, me, in all my flawed perfection? "Revan, please, you're worrying me."
You should be worried. I buried my face into my shaking hands. Everyone should be worried. "Bastila… I want you to help me trace who is siphoning my abilities." Because they're still breathing, but they're all pretty corpses.
"Yes, I think that probably would be for the best." Do you now? Well, I'm so glad we agree. Something dark and dangerous was bubbling inside of me. I probably should go somewhere and meditate, center myself or some such shit. But I always found anger to be conductive to action and I wanted action. "You feel darker now, Revan. Why?" Again with thinking I had all the answers. This was becoming a habit.
"Because they're using my link to you to siphon me, and I cannot feel you anymore. You have always held a part of me in you… and I do not necessarily think it is darkness," I said, cautious, shock slowly fading away.
"Then what?" she asked, completely naive. Madness, Bastila. Paranoid delusions, delusions of grandeur, ruminative thinking. I think I've kept Princess as a reasonable person standard and have been able to filter things out. Maybe I should just go to therapy. Squash that, too busy. "Well, I'll go talk to some of the council members and find a place to start." I nodded to her and glanced towards the console. It was singed on the edges, but the monitor was on and it looked like it was working.
"Carth, can I con you into making me something to eat?" I asked. He knew I was getting rid of him for a bit, but the softness in his eyes also said it was okay. Amazing as well as open and pathetic.
"Sure. You've been loosing a lot of weight since you started taking the extra naps, which I am assuming link in to your energy being siphoned off." He rested a hand on my shoulder then they both left. I sat in the melted chair and got to work seeing if there was any credence to what the blond with the knife had said. Was the council aiming to kill Carth? Who on the council? Who can I trust in a broken world supported by an old and tired organization?
Chapter 3
What I lack in subtly and charm… could fill immense oceans of thought and knowledge. I watched a reformed hermit spar with another reformed hermit. Jolee was, to say the least, winning. Ondur was not older but he was much more out of practice. Then again, Ondur hadn't known of the Jedi's troubles until only recently, so it could have been his utter lack of perception that lent to his increasingly poor fighting skills. Ondur had lived on a small planet until recently, with plain people and little communication. All communication to and from this little planet had to be done by freighters stopping by and relaying messages.
Twenty seven days ago a freighter stopped by the village Ondur lived at, called Redwater Moon, and picked up three inhabitants of the planet, the first of their village to ever leave their planet. The freighter then stopped by Nar Shadaa where the three Redwater natives were met by a bounty hunter named Fulled Yu. I got the joke that they apparently didn't. Several Nar Shadaa snakes I have are now tracing the illusive bounty hunter that is most probably my link to the blond man of my dreams while I am here, facing down Ondur with more than just a recording of the conversation Fulled and the Redwater men had.
And, of course, I wouldn't warn that I am blunt and without charm unless I intended to proceed in the manner that I had thus far lived. I waited until Jolee had begun to look tired of the lack of challenge before jumping in. "Mind if I cut in?" He shot me a look of warning before backing away. "A little privacy, please?" He left, frowning. I began with wide swinging, careless and graceful arks, batting him around like a cat with a mouse toy, one handed but still powerful and vicious. "Have you been to Nar Shadaa lately?"
"No, why?" he asked, suspicious. I shrugged.
"Well, a few friends of yours went there after you sent them a communiqué, from Redwater. They met up with someone there. I thought it might have been you," I said. Yes, I have the communiqué. He began sweating almost instantly. He must have been worried I saw the message or spoke to the men, seeing how many times in a two paged typed missive that he called me a harlot. His interest in killing Carth was to prove that, after my husband's death and I find someone new, how truly deviant from the Jedi ways I am. Not once, but twice to defy them. I think he thinks the Council excuses my marriage because I was not a full fledged Jedi Knight when I fell in love, thus cannot be held to the rules… or some such nonsense.
"No, I don't know what you're talking about. Was there something you wanted to ask me, Revan?" he asked. And no, the best defense is not a good offense. At least, not with me. I stepped close.
"Yea. I know you sent them there to put the hit out on my husband. And I know why you did it, to see me expelled. What I want to know is what you thought I'd do about it? Did you honestly think I wouldn't find out? That when someone came calling I wouldn't be there, stop them, find you?" Did you honestly think I wouldn't find you dead some time in the near future?
"This conversation is over," he said, and turned from me, leaving at a near run. That in and of itself pleased me. Jolee entered when he left, proving that he had just waited outside.
"What was that about?"
"Me being a harlot. You're concerned. About what?"
"The council is going to convene soon… without you."
"To decide whether I stay in or not, I know."
"You know?" he asked, somewhat surprised. I raised one eyebrow at him. "Oh, yea, I forgot about that, kid. Look, Revan, watch your back on this."
"I will."
"The Disciple wishes to speak with you." Perfect.
"I'll go see him now." Jolee followed me there, where Jay sat with Master Getat to his side. He began formally.
"We would like to inform you," he started but I cut him off, impatient.
"… that I, fallen one, cannot be at your next club meeting. I know, I get it."
"If you would like to…" and I cut him off again.
"Speak on my own behalf before you call someone else, namely Bastila and Jolee, to do so before the committee. No, thank you." He sighed.
"This shows nothing but contempt for our rules and traditions," Getat began.
"But she exemplifies control of the Force and the morals we believe in. Is the how really that important?" Jay countered. Jolee jumped in to my defense and the three began bickering. I blocked them out and in my head found little Ondur in his room heading towards his comlink. He was obviously getting off of the planet and away from me. But the minds of the weak are so easy to sway, and before long he was typing out some generic suicide note and slicing at himself with his own lightsaber. The person who found him was the cleaning lady, not ten minutes after, and I was informed of this as I was sitting there in that conference room with three witnesses. Even Jolee seemed none the wiser.
Chapter Four
"You seem to have more energy, Revan," Carth started, almost hopeful that I wouldn't have to go stalking the group that was vampire sucking me dry. I shrugged.
"Making great efforts to block the drain. Did you hear about the Jedi Master who suicided today?"
"Yea, I caught something about that. Odnur or something? Were you close?"
"Ondur. I thought he was weak. I was speaking to him earlier." He moved closer, pleasantly warm and smelling like perfect. I guess that's what love is, worshipping the details.
"Weak?"
"He hid, with his head so far in the sand he was oblivious to life revolving around him."
"You're definitions may be a bit skewed, Gorgeous."
"What? That I've commanded entire armies of men stronger in spirit than him?"
"You've commanded entire armies of men stronger than almost anyone."
"I count you higher than most I've commanded. You have never heeled to me." He laughed. "I'm serious. I consider myself an incredible judge of character."
"I know, which is why I wonder why you're with me."
"Don't sell yourself short," I said, and the lascivious look drew the pun to the size of his trousers without me needing to add the words. He laughed, brushed a kiss on my cheek, and wandered off with tidings of work related plans. I waited until the door was shut, staring just a moment, before attacking the computer again. I heard him, of course, but very few could. "Yes, HK?"
"Tired Exclamation: Oh, Master, why you waste your attentions on that meatbag is a mystery to both me and the meatbag."
"Well, not all of us can have that delightful, sociopathic mentality I gifted upon you with love. Can I ask you a question?"
"Hurried Clarification: Uh, always, Master. Though, my comments intend only to show how highly I view you, Master." HK-47 did not fear me; he was incapable of such an emotion by virtue of his programming. But he did harbor me a deep respect, also a virtue of his programming.
"When we traveled, you wished to learn if there were others of you. That you, alone, should stand at your level of perfection bothered you in a way. Does it still?"
"Annoyed Response: If you are speaking of those generic, low grade knockoffs, then…" he began. I stopped him.
"No, HK. You are the first and the only in your series. I made you singular, special, above and beyond all that had come before, born of a school of thought that would make you unparalleled without upgrade for even years to come. I spent a lot of time thinking of what to gift, how to craft you in a manner apart of all existing combat and assassin droids."
"Master, you flatter me. For a while, yes, I was… lonely, seeking a perfection, as you put it, to parallel my own. But I have adapted to my existence among so many meatbags and tin cans."
"I have a task for you."
"Shall I kill something for you?"
"Yes. Two people, to be precise."
"Disbelieving Mockery: Oh, Master, you've made me the happiest droid."
"I'm serious. Juksta Phrym is a bodyguard for a Jedi Master named Khayd. They have troubles with the vigilantes in the Mr'lkan system. With Juksta out of the way, the Mr'lkans can attack Khayd. I want you to kill her in a manner that suggests hired professional, as messy as you wish. I want it untraceable back to me. When you are finished with her, move to Khayd. Something symbolic to him. If you want, on your way to kill Juksta, you can meet with the Mr'lkans who are headed to hire someone to kill her and collect some money for this. Maybe even buy yourself some nice decals. Deadban logos are nice, flaming skulls and all. Personally, I think you'd look smashing with a teeth and mouth stenciling."
"You jest with me!"
"Only about the decal, and even then, not really. This won't be the last of your missions, HK-47. Hurry back."
"Oh, Master, you can be most assured that I will complete my tasks with joy and haste. Welcome back to the land of the killing, Lord Revan."
"You only assume I left. Go," I said and he was off. I bent back to the task of covering my trails, making known that the Mr'lkans were in the market to hire someone to kill the two people whose death warrant I just signed. I suppose I should feel guilty now, but I have never been one for useless emotion, only actions and results. Is the journey as important as the destination? Many will say yes, but they have not been faced with the choices I have been.
Chapter Five
Bastila found me tweaking at droid plans, twitching in the dying light. I was twitching from the caffeine to keep myself awake past the debilitating weakness I was assailed upon by the unknown group of force users. They seemed to be siphoning more, probably having a stronger connection after contacting me via vision. Which, of course, cuts both ways. I had more of a sense of them now, which meant I should go and meditate, see how much I could tug on that string. She seemed upset.
"They council met. I've been stripped of rank. I know. It's okay."
"How can you say that?! It's not okay! It's horrible. Revan, they… it's not fair," she said. I sighed. In a way, it was more than fair.
"Bastila, I openly shun their teachings. I have blatant disregard for all that the Order holds dear. I'm unstable at the best of time; suicidal and homicidal at the worst. I am broken and more than a little tainted. I am not what the Order needs as its most powerful and influential member, which I am. Thus… this is the only recourse left to them." She looked like she wanted to argue, which she couldn't. My logic was infallible. But it seemed unfair to her because I was broken and tainted in the process of saving, by holding to my teachings.
"You're really okay with this, huh?" she asked. I nodded. I have no need for idiots and archaic old men handing me snide remarks on the way I chose to self medicate. Besides, half were aiming to kill my husband and I was aiming to kill them. Maybe some of the paid attacks to his life would end now that I was not a vaunted Jedi Master. If I was nothing to them, then it follows that he should be nothing to them as well. One can hope. Either way, I don't like pretence and I didn't want to pretend to like someone who thought I was the worst thing to happen to them since sliced bread.
No, this wasn't self sacrificing in order to have the hits called off. I didn't want to be around them anymore, those men whom I sacrificed to save and look upon me with contempt and disgust. And since I probably shouldn't go on a killing spree…. Sometimes I almost wish for the days of my youth back, when any minor inconvenience could be painfully slaughtered.
Liam, once exiled, entered without knocking or any sort of warning, eyes locked on me as soon as the door swished. She had cared. Loosing the Jedi, for her, had been one of the worst things in her life. She believed. She held to a code that was eons old with a tenacity one could only admire. But Liam knew me, knew I wouldn't care in any way, shape, or form. "Revan," she began. Liege, the air around her whispered. "I have convinced the council for a stay of execution until the matter regarding your energy being siphoned can be resolved."
I blinked. She met my eyes without flinching, because that was not who she was as much as it wasn't who I was; but, an apology hung in the air between us. It struck me that she was a law unto herself, a separate will from my own. But she was like Vrook, devoted to the Jedi, devoted to nothing that deserves devotion. I heard Bastila take in a breath to ask what was going on. "So that if I die, I die as a Jedi hero and they have reason to take the offensive against these new enemies of theirs." Silence didn't fall so much as leak into the room. She knew that I knew that she was hoping for my death.
Carth got it; Bastila didn't. He knew how much a person could change with regards to love and devotion. "You should leave," he said, lightly so as not to disturb the silence. She nodded and left, gone as quickly as she came.
"No one wants you dead, Revan," Bastila said. I couldn't help it. I laughed.
"Oh, Bastila, you are precious. Never let anyone tell you otherwise. Please, leave me. I have preparations to make." She didn't understand, but did as told. I was suddenly not the least bit concerned about avoiding run ins with the law.
"What are you thinking, Love?" Carth asked, his eyes filled with quiet strength and worry. Worry for me, worry I'd do something rash. My track record of violence even in the best of times is too amazing for even him to look past. I shook my head.
"I have simpler goals, now, Carth. You, me, the kid, alive, well, happy." I paused a moment. "What do you think about the merchant business?" I asked. His eyes lit with understanding and a little mischief.
"Well, I always wanted to be a smuggler," he said. I laughed at the thought of Mr. Law and Order running spice.
Chapter Six
We were the least of your troubles
Broken before your grace
Destroyed by your caprice
Scattered oft about like marbles
We will rise
We are worthy of you
We will rise
You thought nothing of us long ago
We were nil in your eyes
A spec, dirt on the road
And we need you, want you to know
We will rise
We are worthy of you
We will rise
I ran across that little ditty when I went to tug on the string and find my way back to my vampire Force user. It was a she, another black eyed blond set with the task of siphoning me and passing the energy on. There was another beside her, set with the task of blocking me. They both were staring at each other with that engraved on glass poem set in all three sides of a triangular shrine. Force, here was another set of psychos who worshipped me, in some form. I was blocked, quickly. But the path was known to me now. And the information.
I hopped on the computer again and pulled up records. My service records. If I had my visions open to me, I would have back tracked in time. I sighed; it would have been so much easier. Instead, I was looking at my past records while trying to remember whole sets of people I had killed. It was difficult and arduous, so I started at the beginning. Carth wandered into my meditation lounge at the sound of my typing on the keyboard and sat quietly beside me. There it was; a quick, little, paragraph long footnote in history.
Dayndai, Horuset system:
Jedi settlement in Dayndai stopped all communications to Coruscant. Master Vrook was sent to investigate. Jedi had begun to accumulate literature of the darkside, openly practiced said teachings. His recommendation was to send a team to destroy darkside artifacts and disperse the group, as well as capture or terminate any group leaders. Raid leader was appointed to Jedi Knight Revan. Objective was accomplished.
I wasn't told that they were scholars seeking to broaden their horizons. I was told that they were dangerous, darksided people who threatened the very stability of the Republic. Vrook is ever the exaggerator. It took less than three hours to raze the place. I know now that they sent me because I would get the job done, wouldn't think of them as innocents. I would think of them as people promoting the darkside, which promotes Sith, which leads to a rise in the darkside and then another Sith war. Funny, huh, that I start that next Sith war?
These people, what did they see me as? I remembered a woman, mother, weak. She was not a fight, thus I would let her alone. "We are all going to die if the Sith'ari is not found and nourished," she said to me then, before turning and running down off a corridor. At the time, I thought she had said Sith army. Force, was I young. I don't think I realized until after the fall that she was a prophet.
"What is it?" he asked. I recited the poem, slowly, then pointed to the screen in answer.
"I think it's them. And I think they had a prophet among them, something far more abstract than I am. I think that was why they went the route they went."
"They were trying to create or help you in your fight against Dy'ean," he said. I hesitated here.
"Maybe. Yes? Assuming I am the Sith'ari, which, given the roles I have taken, does make sense." He looked at me with amusement at my humility. I highly doubt he knew the history and power given to the word. I also highly doubt that my coming was prophesized that long ago. Well, I guess my arrogance does have limits. How shocking.
"So, if they were trying to help you, why are they against you now?" he asked. I smiled, bitterly.
"I've completed my task, sort of decreases my importance. I guess they are after the Jedi to prevent them from harming another savior who needs the knowledge of both to save. They might be truly committed to this as their ideal and the Jedi do more than just not embrace it. Maybe they figured they got lucky with me and don't want to risk it for future generations?" Honestly, I wasn't sure. It made sense to me, though. He nodded.
"So, what now?" he asked. I guess I couldn't just abandon him somewhere. I gave a sigh.
"I doubt they're still there at Dayndai, but we should probably head there to see if there are any clues of where they went to next. I have some errands I need to run here, first."
"I'll pack, then. Thanks for not arguing with me, Revan. I'm sticking by you through this," he said, turning to go.
"And everything, Carth. Why else would I be with you?" I asked, tossing his own words back at him. He grinned and left. I sat back in my meditative pose, glanced at my wrist watch, and waited. The question is, however, how do you kill a Jedi? Blasters are out. Hand to hand combat is reserved for only the best of fighters. That leaves you with only the highest of mines and environmental poison.
The mine I chose was rather flat, hidden beneath the carpet. It had no smell, no identifying characteristics. It made no noise, could not be seen by the naked eye by how I placed it. I opened to it in my mind's eye and watched Liam enter her room. The mine exploded, tearing through her body. There was a yell from nearby, and someone ran towards her.
The healer began, trying to draw on massive energy reserves to heal Liam. They weren't there. Not yet. I let that hover for a moment, let her feel that impending death before I severed the tie between Bastila and I. She was breathing air into Liam's shredded lungs when what I did hit her and the backlash of the Force moving into her threw her off balance. She healed Liam completely, forming a Force Bond at the same time. It was the best I could do for her, because I'd rather not die and take her with me.
Naturally, this arranged death on my part was dangerous. My heart and my lungs stopped completely, for nearly a minute. I was still trying to restart them with the Force when they were jump kicked by something else. I opened my eyes and swore, bitterly, feeling the twining of the Force bind me to someone new. "Jackass, get away from me."
"Shut up, you psychotic Sith floozy! Just lie back, rest, and don't open your mouth!" Carth snapped back.
"That's it! When I can walk I am going to kick your ass!"
"Bring it, Darth Barbie." He was quick and sharp tongued; I'll give him that. So, I lay back, chuckling softly. Which hurt. A lot. You try not breathing for a minute and see if that next breath doesn't sting like hell. It was offset by something miraculous and amazing. Carth. I worshipped him in my normal way, held him high in my thoughts, bowed to him in way I hadn't and didn't to anyone living or dead.
But actually being inside his mind, being filled with the raw energy that made him who he was… there were not words to describe it. It was like fitting a life giving, crystal clean ocean inside one person's head, letting it crash against the walls of my skull. Any minute, innate doubt I had ever held for him was washed away; every pain and every fear and every ugliness I had ever encountered was swept off by his tide. I was emptied of myself and filled with his gorgeous, shining self.
I also found, within him, the thrumming power of the Force. Darth Carth. I would not have been able to sway him from the light, I knew that innately. And, with what I found inside of him, he'd have killed Darth Revan without a second's hesitation. But he had been bound by Mother Dayndai, the prophet I had let live on that minor world, when he was but a baby. And I began to wonder… what if all my life had been orchestrated by lines of prophets, handing down the job of securing my arrival for generations?
I looked up at him and his eyes were shining with unshed tears. "Hey, gorgeous," he began. "Do you have any clue what you look like on the inside?" I shook my head, bemused. "Yea. Well. The answer to the question you were thinking is yes. I don't see how anyone can know you and not prepare for you. Know you and not worship you. I, like, get it now."
"Eloquent," I said briefly. He raised one eyebrow.
"At least I tried to put it into words." He had me there. I couldn't think to describe it, couldn't even try. It was beyond me in completion. "You taste like lightning," he said briefly. I shot him a half grin.
"You think you'd have known that beforehand," I said, complete with saucy wink. I can turn anything into something sexual. "You know, you have Force potential." He nodded. "Where we go from here is up to you," I said. He grinned.
"Oh, Rev, I want to be in league. I want to kick ass like a saberwielder, so I can at least be helpful when we track these people down." In league? I didn't say what I was thinking, that he would not be in my league. He'd be beyond me. Which was strangely comforting in a very serious way.
Chapter Seven
The Dayndai temple was emptied, hollowed out, with wind blowing through the cracks in crumbled walls. It was desert terrain with red sand and craggy mountains that reminded me pleasantly of Korriban. I had liked Korriban because while it was ever changing, the stones and mountains had been ancient. The sense of permanence I had gotten from the place had been reassuring. I could stand in exact center of Coruscant's capital and watch all the buildings crumble to ash even as Korriban laughed in the face of time.
Dayndai, however, had the same permanence but less of the peace. It was like entering a house where the people who lived there had been slaughtered and while the bodies had already been carted away, their story was told in blood and chalk and broken furniture. Dayndai screamed and worshipped and died. It spoke of better times with the faint laughing of children and spoke of worse times with the yell and clash of weapons. My weapons, their children. Old story.
I had swarmed this place as a presence of the Light, but I think, even then, a shadow of the Dark had followed. Always. I shall forever be a curious mix of both. This time on Dayndai was different; I could see more, understand more, and my blood positively chilled. I entered a long main hall, the left done in black and bone grey and the right done in blood red and skin beige. On the left was my mask, all over the place, associated with the grinning skull of the Grim Reaper, the cultural personification of Death seen in multiple cultures galaxy wide.
There was the line of my life. The Reaper, frail and small and hunched, over a body, with drippy grey marble as blood. Killing my father. The next etched mural was of the very feminine Reaper walking up stairs, grabbing a weapon along the way. My training. The Reaper hooded, before a terrain that stretched long and barren with odd twisting lines of grey marking its surface. My visions. The Reaper, battled hardened, light grey robed with light grey soldiers fighting passionately red soldiers. The Mandalorian Wars. The next, lightly grey warriors overwhelmed by the Reaper in a black robe holding my mask in hand with onyx warriors. The Sith Wars. A fall, physical, bound by grey chains. The last picture was of the Grim Reaper in robes beginning with black at the bottom and fading into a dark grey of a color closer to the shoulders, well armed, striding forward.
The room curved then and where black and red met there was a mural, figures black, red, grey, all worshiping Death and Life. I glanced over at the other wall and swore softly. "Revan, what is this place?" Carth asked. He was staring at a middle mural on the right side of the room of an Arkanian lion headed man in the rain, holding a feminine form.
"I'm not sure," I answered him, but I was beginning to suspect. "Come, let's move on. This doesn't give us any clues as to where they relocated," I said, turning to leave the room. It took me two steps to figure out that he wasn't following.
"Revan," he said reproachfully. This room, this was big, this was huge. How could I walk out without comment, without emotion? Of course, without comment was easy, the second part of the plan was a little trickier. I turned to him, my faded eyes cold and impassionate.
"Looks like I'm not the only one who can manipulate history. At least I got more done in my lifetime," I said. He looked confused.
"How old is this room?" he asked. Oops. I forgot he could feel the age pealing off the stones, the pervasive reek of it in the room.
"Centuries old. Millennia. The carvings were etched at its inception." His eyes widened a touch, but he nodded, taking the information in as quickly and efficiently as he could. He was a world class champion at dealing with shock whereas I was precognitive. "Though, I have to say, I'm a little annoyed. I am not that thin," I said, shooting him a cocky smile. He chuckled.
"Well, I'm not that hairy."
"Touché. Come on, let's raid the library and see if I left anything useful when I raided it all those years ago." I turned again to leave and he caught up, stopping me with a hand on my shoulder.
"Are you okay?" he asked. I raised one eyebrow, amused.
"I've walked the surface of Telos, the Dantooine temple, been to places where the destruction wrought was mine alone. This was not of my own volition, not my command. Besides, regret is for those who have the time and energy to expend on useless measures." I waved it off and he smiled at me, gentle. "Forgetting to act normal again?" He shook his head.
"Let's go get some reading material."
Chapter Eight
We read. A lot. It wasn't useful. It was interesting and a little disturbing, but not really useful. We were headed to Nar Shadda to look for the bounty hunter, "Fulled Yu" as a last grasping link to the Dayndai group. It was only the second planet and I was already getting tired of the run around. I dreamt of them, of walking through their compound with eyes not my own, someone else's body. I spoke with the blond man in my first dream and there was something about the voice that I couldn't place but rung a very loud bell in my head.
HK-47 met us at the docks and I knew both Juksta Phrym and Khayd were dead. I studied him for a moment, head tilted. "HK, do you love me?" I asked. His optical sensors dimmed in confusion and he considered the ramifications of what I was asking. Finally, his rust colored head bobbed a yes.
"There is no other as you, Master. And yes, Master, if you were to fall I would protect those you cared for." Smart droid, but then, I built him to be so. I nodded and handed him a datapad with three more names. One more Jedi master, two senators. I didn't need to add that afterwards he would join the security around my son. He nodded again and left.
"Sadly, I think I actually trust the homicidal droid," Carth said, only minorly confused by the transaction.
"Yeah, he has his uses," I shot back, smiling at him.
"You know, you don't need to do that." I looked at him, head tipped, cold confusion.
"Yes I do." We left it at that. I knew he wasn't a big fan of assassination or outright murder, that he had problems with it, but I could not and would not allow such a threat to go unanswered. Besides, this was the smarter choice. Allowing Carth to be harmed or killed by lack of a strong statement could be detrimental to the entire galaxy. I, uh, don't deal with loss well.
We found my snake at the pazzak den, in a foul mood, nursing a drink. Bad news for a fallen emperor was always scary. "Tell me what you found," I said, no greeting just business. He jumped when he saw me, knocking his drink over and straightening his flight jacket. He pulled out a piece of paper with a name on it. "I couldn't find much more than that, milord."
I glanced at the name and there was something familiar about it, in a vague way. I briefly worried I had lost memory down the way, but this gap had a more natural feel to it. Lore Agrate. I miss my visions. "Good work. I'm off to put this through a system and see if I can't find an address." I turned to go but my spy caught my arm.
"I caught sight of someone I used to know, you know, back then."
"Atton," I said. He nodded.
"Was asking the same people the same questions. It was him and some redhead. They a part of this?" he asked. Why were Atton and Mira after the same people I was? And Liam wasn't with them. With her harvest blond hair and long legs, she was hard to miss in a crowd. Me, I looked enough like a spice junky to fit in anywhere skuzzy.
"Could be, thanks for the heads up." I turned, headed back to my ship a little contemplative. I entered the name into several databases, only a few of which were legal, and waiting for a hit. Why was Atton following me? How did he know about Fulled Yu, a.k.a. Lore?
Carth entered the security room where I was doing my searches, leaned against the wall. "Guess who's knocking at our door. Should I let them in?" Well, one way to answer a question was to ask it. I nodded and he went to grab our guests.
"Sadly, I almost miss this old ship," Atton began, hedging. He was nervous, something hard to spot in a card shark. But Atton could hide nothing from me. I waited because he had enough on his mind that he was bound to crack soon. He caught my eyes, took a deep breath. "I know you tried to kill Liam, Revan," he said. I smiled my serene, disturbing smile.
"If I was trying to kill Liam, she'd be dead. I was trying to spare Bastila pain at my upcoming death." His eyes flashed.
"I was there," he said. I nodded. "You… you let it hover, you waited. You let her die a little before allowing her life. It's not your decision, Revan!" he snapped. I smiled again, wider but still serene, a madman's grin.
"Atton, she's setting me up to die. You know my retaliation for that goes far beyond a mere moment of indecision." He seemed sullen. There was more going on than poor Atton had a clue of and he hadn't mentioned a thing about Fulled Yu. "Why are you here, Atton?" His pulse jumped, eyes widened, his mouth went dry, and I knew the next words out of his mouth were going to be a lie.
"J-just wanted to talk to you about Liam," he stammered. Mira stepped forward, put a hand on his shoulder.
"We were worried you were going to finish the job you started on Liam," she said, using bravado to hide her fear, usual tactics for her.
"No, really, why are you here? You arrived before we did," Carth said, leaning against the wall again, hand casually near his pistol in old gunman style.
"We… I… wanted to play pazzak?" he said, and it sounded much more like a question than anything else. I pursed my lips and took a shot in the dark.
"Liam went missing," I said. His eyelids fluttered and he said nothing. Well, at least I am still perceptive. "How did you know about the supposed bounty hunter?"
"There was a piece of a message about him on Liam's desk and we thought she went searching," Mira picked up, still belligerent. I frowned.
"Well, since we're going to the same place, we might as well go there together. I'm searching for more information as we speak." Atton went still.
"No thanks, we've our own transportation," he said carefully. My head tipped to the side the way a predator's does when it realizes the prey it was after was hiding not very well.
"You don't, you cabbed in. And it wasn't a request," I said. Mira stiffened, outrage flitting across her features.
"How dare you…" she trailed off when Atton put a hand on her shoulder.
"That's fine," he said, still careful. Mira laughed.
"No, it's not! I think we can take one Jedi!" she cried, making a quick, skilled motion. Or, she tried too before my lightning hit her and she was twitching unconscious on the floor.
"I won't throw her into lockup yet, but you should talk to her," I said. He sighed.
"Yes, my lord Revan." He left, hefting Mira as easy as he did dead bodies back in the day and my computer buzzed. An illegal database came up with an address given to a weapon's store naught but three months ago. I contacted the seller. Lore was a big spender and had more coming. Was I going to run shipments for the blond cultist? Well, I was coming armed.
Chapter Nine
Dargth was a nasty planet, smuggler's habitat minus the tall buildings Nar'Shadda provided. Biting wind, tall mountains, three foot grass, no trees, and it stank of swamp. All the buildings were squat, shoddily built, dirty. But there was an industrial quality to the construction that suggested habit. Drifters, nomads. Probably had one big structure, and it was a colony ship. Massive bed halls turned into dance floors, multipurpose.
Outsider that I was, I'd probably stick out like a sore thumb. Thank goodness cloaks and scarves were worn habitually to protect from the stinging wind. There was a wild energy to the place and I wove through the town towards that single, towering mass of the Force collected in one bonfire. Was this what others felt when they came near me? Because that was my energy streaking out through the town, healing, warming, calming the wind, holding the walls up.
"Force," Atton breathed. "You're everywhere." Beside him, Mira frowned.
"What?" she asked. Atton turned to explain but I waved it off. The time for such things was past. "If Liam is here, we're rescuing her."
"Liam is drunk on an outlandish planet somewhere. It's always been in that girl's blood to wander, no?" I asked. "Isn't that how you found her? And that's after I gave her responsibility and purpose." Beside me, Atton nodded.
We were not stopped on our way in and I proved right, there was a massive structure, a ship, ahead. But I slowed, because something was on the edge of my subconscious knocking to get in. I pulled out a pad and let them lead. Liam's information scrolled forward. Granitae, Liam. Born on Tatoonie. Attended primary schools on Manaan, Taris, Coruscant, Deralia. All before coming to the academy at age 11. Black eyes, harvest blond hair. I swore softly.
"What?" Carth asked, eyes shrewd. I was speechless. Liam was part of the clan. The exiled nomad was of a people I destroyed and who worshipped me. "Liam is here, isn't she?" I nodded. "She's part of this," he added, more statement this time. I nodded again, smart man.
"What do you mean? If Liam is here it's either not willing or on behalf of the Jedi," Mira said. Atton gave me a speculative look.
"Revan, explain," he said, soft.
"Liam is not as innocent as she often appears. And she worships me in a way you would have trouble understanding fully. Perhaps…" I trailed off, the seed of doubt planted. Perhaps she didn't mean to see me dead. Perhaps I had misjudged her. Perhaps this was the end she sought, me on this planet. "She has explaining to do," I muttered, picking up pace, following the trail of my own energy.
We met no resistance. The front doors to the colony ship were open, as were select other doors. Everything else was locked down. It definitely had the feel of a rat maze, but I couldn't sense anything. I could sense no people, no danger, no plants or animals, nothing because there was too much raw force power. Which was probably the plan, too.
"This is an elaborate trap, isn't it?" Atton asked. Carth just nodded for me. "Then why are we still headed straight in?"
"Because it's Liam. What I did to her, willfully, was horrible, and she worshipped me for it. She will not harm you, or Carth, or Mira and she knows if there is merit to the future she proposes I will seek it for her. I…" I paused, unsure how to finish. "There is something here, something momentous, something so big I can sense its impact without needing my second sight, and I need to see this through," I said. Carth frowned, for the first time, I think, being able to sense through our bond what I had never voiced. I always appeared calm, but I always knew the odds. And what he sensed from me now did not put him at ease.
"You don't think she'll kill you, so, what do you think she'll do?" he asked. I sighed.
"I wish I knew."
"Revan," he started, grabbing my shoulder. "I do not want to live without you." I touched his face briefly before moving on. They all followed me, grim little soldiers. There was a chamber ahead and I knew it was her arena. Fate itself almost shuddered in the air around me; I'd kill for my second sight right about now. Wait, wasn't that what I was about to do? I made a brushing motion with my hand and I felt the others slow.
I stepped in and the door slid shut behind me, like I knew it would. The chamber was domed, huge, and there were windows on the second floor. Liam and Lore were side by side there, waiting for me. "Is he your brother?" Carth asked, standing beside me. I frowned. Why, when every detail of their plan was finely honed, would they allow him entrance? "Don't scowl at me, Revan, I was at your side."
"Yes, Carth, he is my brother. Half brother," Liam answered him. I glanced back at her.
"I'm here." I was never one for long, drawn out speeches. "Your group, it is not here to wage war against the Jedi, is it?" I asked. She looked amused.
"No, Revan. It never was. We are those who worship the Sith'ari," she answered. But she wasn't looking at me. She was looking at Carth. I turned to look at him slowly, eyes wide. "No, Revan, he is not the Sith'ari." I shook my head, because I got it now.
"No, we are. As Bastila and I were more than the sum of our parts, as are we." I turned to her then because she had shocked me, which is a nifty trick to do to an oracle. "You set it up for me to do this." Carth looked a little pale and I had a moment to wonder if she had sent him in to me before entering her booby trapped room. She had orchestrated my need to distance myself from Bastila. She knew my patterns, knew I would choose to entrust Bastila to her instead of anyone else. Which meant she knew her room had been trapped, and she chose when to enter it. She smiled at me, proud. "I don't understand; why are we here?"
"We believe the Sith'ari is one who will save the entire universe, using both the light and the dark." I nodded.
"We got that part," Carth said. I reached over, twined my hand through his. Liam shook her head.
"You are under the presumption that the universe has been saved already, from the darkness."
"No, what we have faced so far has been merely history at work. Agreed, some of the history is long held, centuries in the making, and a tad overwhelming, but it is only that, the rushing of time." I paused to smile. "I'm special. I'm not that special. The Darkness didn't want to destroy the universe, he wanted dominion over it. In the grand scheme of things, oppressive governments fall." Carth shot me a look, but didn't argue.
"Then what do you believe your role in history was?" it was Lore who asked, intrigued with me, interested. Liam knew what to expect; she knew me. "Why would we aid in your hand of fate?"
"It saved the civilization from a long, dark fall. Changed our galaxy as we know it. He and I, we safeguarded it for the next generation," I said. Lore smiled, one of those ah-ha smiles. Liam sighed, and it looked tired and sad to me.
"And that, is your mistaken presumption. That there are more than one Sith'ari, saving the universe generation after generation."
"Look, if this is going somewhere, can we get to it?" Carth asked. I was trying to puzzle it through, but I was missing something.
"There is only one," Liam said, and she waited for me to understand.
"Oh, shit," I said softly, with feeling. I turned towards the door but she had done something, and an odd liquid began seeping upward. I still tried the door. "Liam, damn it! I'm done! Whatever huge tragedy you see in the future is millennia removed," I yelled, the liquid at my thighs and stinging. "I'm not doing this anymore! I don't want to." She just watched, smiling sadly. Carth caught me in the liquid, hugging me to him. My teeth were chattering and the damn door wasn't budging. I turned to him.
"In an undetermined amount of time something will threaten the very fabric of the universe itself, threaten to destroy all that is and ever will be. You and I are the only things that can stop it," I said, blunt. I pressed my forehead against his, trying to ignore the stinging liquid. "I don't want this. I don't want to do this anymore."
"Me neither, but then, maybe that's why we were chosen for it."
"I don't believe this crap, you know," I said. He smiled at me.
"You never trust anyone's visions but your own. You're such an elitist," he teased. Well, if he was on name calling.
"That's because I'm never wrong, Boyscout." The liquid covered us both and I could see Liam from beyond, her head on her brother's shoulder. It was the last thing I saw before my consciousness left.