Disclaimer: This part HURTS. Because you know what? Having things turn out like this WAS my idea. But Revan isn't mine, and this is kinda sorta less-than-canon (ought to be- poor canon Revan never gets a break) so everything I spin off of him (her) must be presented to you and free-of-claim monetary or intellectual.
Epilogue
Once upon a time, a crotchety old ex-Jedi told some impatient young hero or other that everybody always figures that the time they live in is the most epic, most important age to end all ages. But no matter what, he said, life goes on. Every so often, a horrible, evil tyrant arises and tries take over the galaxy, killing here, torturing there, and generally leaving a trail of broken hearts and destruction. Just as often, some bright-eyed, brilliant young thing with an inflated sense of importance and no sense whatever steps up and takes the tyrant on. Sometimes they even win, and the galaxy enters into a time of peace and prosperity. But life goes on, and heroes, if they don't die, grow and move on.
It had been ten years since the Star Forge had fallen out of orbit to the planet of its bloodthirsty origins below. It had been ten years since Aithne Morrigan, sometimes known as Revan, had led the crew of a stolen exchange freighter to Malak's destruction, effectively ending the Jedi Civil War. And Revan and her crew had grown, and moved on.
For about three years after the war, it had seemed as though the Jedi Order would never recover from the losses they had sustained. The Sith were scattered and broken, but still very much present, and the Order had expended much of the resources that remained to them after the long war with Revan and Malak's Sith in the final attack on the Star Forge. Many of the Jedi that had gone in had never returned. Nevertheless, there had been efforts made to rebuild the Order. Master Vandar of Coruscant had done much to make the knowledge of the Jedi available so that Jedi culture and ways would not be lost. And surprisingly, many ex-Jedi or ambivalent Sith had rallied to train young people in the Jedi ways.
Chief among them was the Guardian Juhani. It had taken her a time after accepting her position on Coruscant at the end of the war, but she had recovered from wounds of heart and body alike and thrown herself into restoring the Jedi with all the fervor of her childhood dreams, and all the experience she had gained since. With another old acquaintance of Revan's- Darden Leona, the infamous general from the Mandalorian wars returned from exile- Juhani had sought new recruits and worked tirelessly these ten years to expand the Order again. Only now were their efforts beginning to show fruit. The Jedi Order was still a feeble thing. There were still many Sith, hiding in the dark corners and forgotten places of the galaxy. Inevitably every now and then there was an attack or an uprising and some young idiot had to put them down. But there was hope that in twenty years or so, the Order might be strong again, and able to defend the Republic as it always had.
It would do so without Bastila Shan, however. For about two years after the war, Bastila had struggled on in the Jedi Order, trying to subdue her feelings, dispense with her guilt, and forget the hypocrisy that she had seen the Jedi sometimes act with. But in the end, especially after her mother's death, it was too much for her. Bastila Shan hung up her lightsaber and forsook the Order. She retreated to Alderaan, where she became a benefactor of the community, and eventually a Senator. She even married a prominent writer and musician, and had a small daughter. About four years after the war reporters and current histories alike had forgotten Bastila Shan as anything other than the woman who hadn't managed to kill Revan that one time. It may be assumed that Bastila, who always stayed in very close contact with Aithne, was only grateful for this.
Some four years after the war, the Mandalorians had begun to reappear under an organized banner. A Mandalore had appeared out of nowhere to reunite the clans and to turn them from their dishonorable criminal and mercenary ways. Mandalore the Preserver, they called him. At first he had only had Clan Ordo at his side, but since he had gained the allegiance of six other clans. The Republic watched him; he and his people were mighty in battle, and indeed still offered their services in the petty wars and revolutions that popped up every two years or so all over the galaxy. But so far they had made no attempts at mass destruction or conquest. Rather, they fought with honor and dignity, and their sense of honor, family, and comradeship was beginning to make them friends, even. For the large part the driving force behind this, this Mandalore the Preserver, remained a mystery. He never took off his mask. But a few scholars and Mandalorian cultural specialists recalled Revan had last had the mask of Mandalore, that she had taken it from Mandalore the Ultimate when she had killed him. Some of them even remembered that a man named Canderous Ordo had been her ally and friend during that strange Star Forge freak that ended the Jedi Civil War, and smiled to themselves when they heard about or saw these "new" Mandalorians.
The Wookiees on the planet formerly known as Edean had managed to hold their own against slavers all these years. The leadership against invaders had recently changed paws. The chieftain of the tribe that had all this time led the planet in self-defense had died. His son, Zaalbar, had taken over. He'd recently started courting a pretty, thick-furred lady Wookiee, or at least he had been the last time his dear friend, Mission Vao had been on leave and visited.
Mission Vao, like Juhani, had ignored the rules and continued to save the galaxy no matter what those grouchy old ex-Jedi said. She wasn't exactly well-known outside of her circle. Her work tended to be of the clandestine sort. But since she had joined up with the Republic Special Ops at twenty, she'd added a few more medals and decorations to keep in the case at home with her Cross of Glory. Of course, she couldn't tell anyone. It was nearly all classified, or she might have begun to rival her adoptive father for Republic military respectability. She hopped around the galaxy, often in a little fighter she'd named Hawk's Honor, or Double-H for short, aiding those bright eyed young idiots that would be heroic often as possible. She still laughed and chattered. And she still cheated at Pazaak.
Sometimes Mission worked with Dustil Onasi now that Jolee was gone. Though she was no Jedi, and Dustil still missed his old master dearly, the two of them had much in common besides a shared desire to see the Sith turned or otherwise dealt with. Neither of them was what could be called Republic official: entirely approved of by Senate and Jedi alike. But both of them were loyal, steadfast, and true. They were nearly the same age and had similar senses of humor. They even fought alike, relying more on speed, efficiency, and intelligence than power. And, though they had taken a while to get that way, they were family. They both roamed over the galaxy more often than not, but they always came home eventually. To Telos.
Though the Republic still smoldered in places (there had been an economic depression for nearly five years after the war and more than one planet had revolted and seceded) the Telos Restoration project was a beacon of hope. It was the masthead for all the post-war rebuilding effort. Citadel Station still orbited the planet, serving as a home for the Telos system trade hubs and the restoration departments, but the Ithorian-sponsored restoration zones had done their work in the ten years since the fall of the Star Forge. Life had begun to flourish once again all over the planet's surface. Furthermore, the first town had been rebuilt four years prior, and since, former citizens of Telos (long exiled due to war and poverty) and new colonists alike had located to that town and three or four others. People had been married. Children had been born. Inevitably some calamity would befall the entire planet in seven years or so, but at the moment, things were very good.
Carth and Aithne still lived on Telos, absorbing themselves in the day-to-day dramas of home, rather than taking on the evils of the entire galaxy. True, Carth had made Admiral in this time and was in charge of military communications for the entire sector. Aithne herself was consistently advising this or that traveler with a mysterious past on some immensely important mission to save the universe (Telos and Citadel Station were becoming more and more commercial hubs)- last week it had been two Outer Rim mercs and a bespectacled teenage pilot in a battered ship with information of renewed Sith activity on Korriban. But when Carth wasn't sending troops here or there or relaying messages from Jedi hiding out on Dantooine to other Jedi on Coruscant, he was wading in bureaucratic paperwork. And when Aithne wasn't answering questions from clueless aspiring heroes or having HK-47 threaten the historians and reporters that sometimes still lurked about, she was confounding her young strategists at the Telos Republic Military Academy, because damn it, however brilliant she was, Darth Revan shouldn't have frizzy hair and freckles, smile, joke, and mother three kids.
Unfortunately, the Onasis didn't seem to care much about their epic reputation and important responsibilities. They continued to be funny, openhearted, in love, and neighborly, and to hell with what people thought of them. There were three little Onasis now, the last of which had actually been the first child born on the surface of Telos since the Sith had bombed the place. There were two boys and a girl. All were attractive and intelligent, two showed every sign of being as strong in the Force as their mother and elder brother before them, and one of them was about as good as his father. It was too soon to really tell: the eldest was only eight and the two younger ones five and three, but most of the community were of the opinion that the Onasi kids took entirely too much after both of their parents and dreaded the day the three of them started tearing the galaxy to pieces, as it was rumored Dustil and Mission already were.
After all, tyrants and heroes rise and fall. And the Onasis? They'd been both. And very likely still would be. The galaxy was due for more tyranny and heroics in about ten years…
A/N: Moved from Edge of Light and Dark. This is the original ending, before I wrote the sequel.
May the Force Be With You,
LMSharp