"You're Revan, right?" an older pilot greeted me three days later at the docking port.
"That's me," I nodded.
"Curious name, Revan," he stroked his chin. "That name seems familiar, but I can't quite place it. Oh well, glad you could make it. Jaden and Rosh weren't sure you'd come. Welcome aboard"
"Thanks," I grunted, wondering what all that was about as I stepped past him in to the transport.
Truth be told, I wasn't sure I was coming myself until that morning. I had gone back and forth for the last three days. On the one hand, the Jedi did a lot of good. Plus they could help me figure out my powers and I could reach my potential. They would give me a home and a family, two things I had never had. But on the other hand, the life of a Jedi, as Jaden had said, was not easy. A lot of people had tried to kill or capture Jedi during the Yuuzhan Vong War and there was still a lot of resentment. The lightsaber was a target as much as it was a weapon.
In the end what had made up my mind was Rilkie, a seven-foot Gamorean thug with whom I had a "special" relationship. Rilkie ran a racketeering crew with three more Gamoreans that were the bane of the refugee sector. One day three years ago, I caught him shaking down a young family with a kid my age. Rilkie threatened to sell the boy into slavery if they didn't pay up, which they couldn't. That night I freed the boy and stole just about all of Rilkie's credits, which I then redistributed among the refugees (after a small commission, of course).
Needless to say, Rilkie was furious and when he found it was me, he came after me with a vengeance. After about six months, he caught up with me in the tunnels below the Jekk-Jekk-Tarr Café. We fought; I cut off his hand and he gave me a reminder on my back. Since then, we've played a game of cat and mouse, usually with me stealing stuff from him and him trying to find me.
Somehow, and do this day I haven't a clue how, he found my hiding spot that morning. It was almost by accident because he wasn't armed, something else that was unusual for Rilkie. Anyway, he threatened to tear me limb from limb and I told him to go ahead and try, since I had a vibroblade and he had nothing. Like most Gamoreans, Rilkie is fairly easily intimidated and backed off, but not without warning me that he'd be back with friends. I took that as my sign it was time to leave.
"So now, where are your things?" the pilot queried looking around.
"What do you mean?" I asked, confused.
"Don't you have a bag or something?" he rephrased his question.
"Nope, this is pretty much it," I replied, doing a mental check of what I had: cloak, change of clothes, vibroblade, datapad with my few datacards, the 31 credits I had to my name, and of course my prized possession: my lightsaber (that's an interesting story, but for another time).
"That's it?" he gaped at me.
"I live light," I shrugged. "Now is there anything else, or can we be off?"
"In a hurry?" the man cocked a bushy eyebrow at me.
"Let's just say if I never see this place again, I won't shed any tears," I brusquely answered.
"Alright then, get inside," he told me. "We take off in ten."
The inside of the transport was thankfully fairly luxurious, at least from my point of view. I was excepting to have to be strapped into posture-correcting transparisteel benches the whole way. There were five rows of padded benches about six seats across. Near the rear entrance was a refresher, so I didn't have to hold it the whole way to Ossus, which from what I understood was nearly a day's worth of travel. Snacks and refreshments were on a bar up front.
I was also not alone, which for some reason surprised me. Sitting near the front were two aliens, a Rodian and a Twilek who were chatting away in their respective languages. Behind them, looking like she wanted to commit suicide, was Iridonian female with her signature horns poking through her long brown hair.
"(Hey, new guy!)" the Rodian exclaimed, turning around. "(I'm Reeko. What's your name?)"
"(Revan)" I responded in his own language.
"(You speak Rodian?)" his bug-eyes widened even further.
"Amongst other things," I shrugged, returning to Basic for the sake of the confused Iridonian.
"You speak Rodian?" she echoed.
"Amongst other things," I repeated.
"Good," she growled, glaring blaster bolts at the Rodian. "Can you tell him to shut up? He's giving me a headache."
Reeko gave her an evil look, which between you and me doesn't look much different than any other Rodian facial expression, and then rattled something off in Rodian that I decided against translating.
"What did he say?" the Iridonian looked at me.
"I don't think you want to know," I replied as diplomatically as I could. Reeko jabbered away at her some more. All that did was infuriate the Iridonian even more, which I think was the point.
"You've got something to say to me, bug boy?" she stood up and glared at him. "Well you can tell me when you learn Basic."
"He can't," a new voice spoke up.
I whirled around to find the owner of the voice. There in the back corner was the most beautiful girl I had ever laid eyes on. She was an Arkanian, about my age, with silver hair, pure white eyes, and a gorgeously angular face. She was wearing the typical rich, white, flowing robes of the Arkanians so I couldn't quite see her figure, but if the rest of her was any indication, it was stunning.
"What?" I asked, shaking myself back to reality.
"He can't learn to speak Basic," the girl repeated flatly. "Rodian's facial structure doesn't allow them form Basic words. You'll have to learn Rodian."
"Like hell, bookworm!" the Iridonian snapped.
"Sorry," the girl mumbled softly and turned to the window.
"Be nice; you know she's shy," the Twilek chided the Iridonian.
"I don't care," the Iridonian growled. "You haven't had to sit with her for the last three days. I am getting sick and tired of her know-it-all attitude."
Right about now Rilkie was looking pretty good.
"Okay, let's calm down," I cut in before this got ugly. "Hey, are you these snacks free?"
"Yeah, duh," the Iridonian snorted. "We're part of the Jedi now, so we get the perks of the trip. Besides, they've got feed us."
"Sweet because I'm starving," I reached out to grab a bag of chips. As I did, my cloak fell open, revealing the lightsaber clipped to my belt.
"(You have a lightsaber!)" Reeko exclaimed, his big eyes getting wider.
"Oh, yeah, I do," I mumbled feeling suddenly very awkward.
"Let me see!" the Twilek, a green female, held out her hand.
"See what?" the Iridonian asked.
"He's got a lightsaber," the Twilek told her.
"Really?" the Iridonian looked impressed. "I've got to see this."
Suddenly I was swarmed by three very curious teenagers. Even the Arkanian perked up, glancing over from her corner. With a sigh, I unclipped the weapon from my belt and held it out in my palm for my companions to examine.
The hilt was comparatively short, only about ten inches or so. Running the length of the hilt were four evenly spaced ridges that extended past the emitter, forming four claw-like spikes. About two-thirds up the hilt between two ridges was the red activation button.
"(Cool)," Reeko breathed. Apparently it impressed him enough to shut him up for a moment.
"Simple, yet elegant," commented the Twilek. "I hope they let you use it instead of forcing you to use one the training sabers the rest of us will be stuck with."
"They'd better," the Iridonian agreed. "It looks really old. Where did you get it?"
"That's a bit of a story," I answered, hoping they'd drop it. No such luck.
"(We've got an eight hour trip to Ossus, so spill)," Reeko demanded.
"What he said," the Iridonian agreed.
"Well," I said sitting down, "I'm not really sure where it comes from, to be honest. My parents gave it to me when I was really little, I guess. I'm not a hundred percent sure. At any rate, it's the only thing of theirs I have left."
"What happened to them?" the Twilek asked.
"They died," I answered.
That wasn't strictly true. The truth is I have no idea what happened to my parents or who they even were. Neither do I particularly care. All I know is they abandoned me with a lightsaber on Nar Shaada when I was an infant. I wouldn't recognize them if I met them on the street.
The reason I tell people they died is because when I talk about them vanishing, I get the oh-you-poor-child look that grates me and promises that people will keep a look out for them. Invariably I'm asked to describe them, which I can't because I haven't seen them in at least 16 years. Just telling people they died is easier.
"That makes two of us," the Iridonian stuck out her hand. "I'm Satori-Amd. My parents ran a droid shop on Coruscant until the Vong killed them. My uncle has raised me since."
"I'm Saltanna, but most people call me Salty," the Twilek added. "And you are?"
"Revan," I answered.
"(Do you know how to use it? What color is the blade?)" Reeko shot of the questions like a stormtrooper.
"I've—"
"Hey kids, we'll be taking off now, so get settled in. Next stop: Ossus," the old pilot's voice boomed over the intercom.
"Good, I hate just sitting around," I commented.
"In a hurry?" Satori raised an eyebrow.
"You could say that," I replied.
"(About your lightsaber, turn it on!)" Reeko excitedly pressed.
"Uh, I don't think that's a good idea," I answered looking around. "This isn't exactly the place to ignite a meter long blade that cuts through anything. I'm pretty the Jedi order doesn't want me messing up their upholstery."
"Come on," Saltanna pleaded. "You gotta show us."
"Not really," I told her.
"(At least answer my questions. Do you know how to use it? What color is it? Is it red?)" Reeko fired off.
"Yeah, is it red? Because that would be so cool!" Salty added emphatically.
"Isn't red the color of the Sith?" I queried.
"Yeah!" Salty nodded, her lekku twitching excitedly.
"So why would that be cool?" I raised an eyebrow.
"I don't know," Salty answered with an impudent grin. "It just would, that's all."
"To answer your questions," I looked to Reeko. "I've dabbled with it, but they're a lot harder to wield than you think. I prefer my vibroblade."
"And the color?" Satori questioned.
"Purple," I supplied.
"Purple? Really?" Satori smirked.
"And what color is yours?" I retorted.
"(He's gotcha there)," Reeko gave a Rodian smirk.
"What was that, bug-boy?" snapped Satori.
"You really need to learn Rodian," Salty commented.
I sensed another argument coming and didn't feel like being peacemaker this time. Instead I retreated to back corner and took a seat next to the Arkanian girl. A moment after I sat down, I felt the rumble of the engines and the pull as we took off.
It was the first time I had ever flown in a spacecraft. I had been in speeders of course, usually in someone's custody, but this was different. Reflexively I grabbed the armrests to brace myself. The girl just stared out the window as the Nar Shaada skyline began to race past.
"Good-bye, Smuggler's Moon," I whispered looking past her. I didn't have any feelings of nostalgia or anything like that. I was more than happy to leave that slime-pit of misery. Instead I felt trepidation as I left the only home I'd ever known. From here on out, everything was going to be new. Shaking my head, I put such thoughts out of my head and relaxed. In a few moments, the blue sky turned dark and the stars appeared.
"So what's your name?" I turned to the girl next to me.
"Atris," came the flat reply.
"Uh, okay," I stammered. "I'm—"
"Revan, I heard," she cut me off.
"Sociable, aren't you?" I cocked an eyebrow.
"Sorry," Atris answered. "I just haven't been around people that much."
"At least you understand sarcasm," I commented dryly.
She looked back out the window and fidgeted with the edge of her robe. Clearly I was making her uncomfortable, so I stood up to leave.
"No, stay," she whispered. "I'm just not used to being around people, but that's something I'd better get used to, I guess. I think purple's cool."
"Huh?" I cocked my head.
"I think purple's a cool color," she repeated. "For your lightsaber, I mean."
"Uh, thanks, I think," I replied.
"Some of the greatest Jedi in history have had purple blades. Anakin Solo, Mace Windu, even your namesake, Revan," she continued.
"Who?"
"Revan," Atris repeated. "He was a Jedi of the Old Republic some 4000 years ago. Some say he was the most powerful of the Old Republic. I don't know much about him, to be honest. A lot has been lost to time."
"And Windu, who was he?" I queried.
"Another powerful Jedi of the Old Republic, just before Palpatine took over. In fact, he was the Grand Master of the Order until he was killed by Palpatine," Atris said.
"And he had a purple blade?" I asked, feeling somewhat excited.
"Oh yes," Atris nodded, speaking faster. "In fact he was the greatest swordsman of his era. He was so great that he invented his own style. And Anakin—"
"I know what happened to him," I cut her off. That was a fate I was hoping to avoid. "How do you know so much?"
"I like to read," she shrugged. "How do you not?"
"You don't hold back, do you?" I cocked an eyebrow.
"Sorry," she flushed. "Like I said—"
"You're not used to being around people, I know," I waved her off. "It's alright. I grew up on the streets of Nar Shaada, which isn't exactly a center of learning and knowledge to begin with. Add living on the streets to that and let's just say I didn't exactly have the time to peruse."
"Sorry," she looked down.
"You don't have to apologize for everything," I told her with a coy smile.
"I'm—" I cut her off with a raised eyebrow.
She blushed again and looked away.
"Hey, I'm glad you're with us," I patted her hand as starlines streamed past. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to get some rest. It's going to be a long trip."
Leaning back, I closed my eyes and drifted off into another world.
