-1Chapter 3: Worms Versus Birds
Linda was smiling, again, behind her saber. It was the smile of assured victory. Revan had the situation assessed. It was utterly hopeless. Suppose he could defeat all twenty-six enemies at once, he would've gained nothing. He powered his lightsaber down and his captors powered down theirs. The laughter on Linda's face was infuriating, but Revan kept his composure.
"You will find that being my slave is not too demanding. You might even enjoy it, my Sith Lord."
She arose from the throne and quickly a few men in tattered clothes rushed forth and moved the throne aside to reveal a secret room. They then quickly returned to their alcove. Linda held out her preened and dainty hand.
"Shall we?"
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Revan followed Linda into the room which was done up in red and in the fashion of a personal quarters. It looked like the chambers of a rich Coruscant Lady. The bed was large and disk-shaped with thin red transparent curtains draped about it. Fresh hot food was littering an oblong table on the other end of the room. A great elliptical mirror was on the wall opposite the table, so that whomever was sitting at the end of the table could see themselves whilst they ate. Another symbol of Linda's frightening vanity.
Revan was convinced by the time they had begun to eat at the table, that Linda was quite insane. Long moments would pass as she would simply stare at him while she was eating. There would be a few episodes of unexplained laughter and she consumed large quantities of some sort of local wine. If there had been a window or an alternate exit, Revan would've incapacitated her and fled, but still no solution presented itself.
"Tell me, how did you come to rule?"
She sneered at Revan for breaking silence.
"You will address me as Mistress Tru."
After this, her eyes dared him to pose the same question again. Revan, being the same man he always had been, he dared.
"How did this happen, Mistress Tru?"
She slapped the table.
"So consumed by details! I was appointed!"
"By who's authority?"
Revan could see that Linda was becoming greatly agitated. He knew he wouldn't get any answers, but it was enough to try.
"You said earlier you were the Archivist?"
She smiled, maniacally.
"I am now. It used to be that old fool Corvis. But now he lives alone in the woods reading about glory days."
"But by who's power gave you this position?"
"The power to assume power without consequence grants it's own authority."
An idiom straight from a Sith holocron, Revan thought. He pressed forward, not even acknowledging the food and drink before him.
"You said you were appointed. If so, by whom?"
She gave an exasperated squeal.
"You ask far too many questions for a slave!"
Revan smiled, deciding on a different approach.
"This is my first time as a slave. Indulge me. Was it Aero-Kerre Rokaine?"
Linda's eyebrow shot up, warningly. Her lips pursed. She seemed to recognize the name, but shook her head.
"No. I was appointed by the counsel to act as steward during the rebellion. Aero-Kerre was the cause of the rebellion that drove the Order back which appointed me." She began fidgetting with her utensils and smiled to herself. "Perhaps he was involved, in that sense."
Revan felt the force pulling on him to ask a question. It had happened before without apparent reason. It was as if a little nagging child pulling on his sleeve and whispering in his ear. He took a leap of faith.
"Were you in love with Aero-Kerre?"
Linda's eyes immolated in flames of passion. Peace was gone as was her insane little giggling smile. Her jaw clenched and her flaming eyes were beginning to moisten and water. She turned her away from Revan so that he could not see her eyes. Her voice squeaked in answer.
"We knew each other since we were little. Raised in this Enclave together. I-"
Revan smiled in triumph. She was distraught, meaning he had the advantage. He continued in the vein that the force had opened for him.
"But he didn't love you. Did he?"
Her head snapped back in rage and she pounded the table with her fist.
"He loved me until that wench came along!"
Her fist melted, she grabbed her head and sunk into her chair, sobbing. Revan couldn't help but feel pity for her. She was the saddest most miserable creature he had ever encountered.
"What was this Aero-Kerre like?"
At the mention of his name, she sobbed loudly. Her watery eyes looked up as if she could see him standing on the table.
"He was…so bright…and handsome." Her sobs stopped and she raised her head. Her face looked much older and worn. Her worn eyes looked up at Revan. "He looked like you."
Her eyes were clouded over by odd dementia. Her smile resurfaced as she stared at Revan. He felt the power in his corner. The power to utterly destroy this poor loathsome creature once and for all. A bad taste flooded his mouth as he forced himself to form the words.
"I am already in love with someone else. I could never love you."
Her eyes dropped and the pupils died. Her eyes became cancelled and blank.
"I know. No one ever did love me. Not true love." She blubbered.
Revan's cold voice wafted over her like a chilling freezing wind.
"Of course they didn't. You are unlovable."
She bit her lip and began to mutter to herself.
"I'm leaving, mistress." He said sarcastically.
Revan rose to his feet and kicked his chair back. He pulled his hood back up and strode over to the covered door and pushed the throne aside so he could slip out. Behind him he heard a lightsaber ignite, a moan and then the lightsaber die.
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Revan couldn't ignore the guilt that ate at him. She had been poorly trained in the Jedi arts of shielding against deep feelings. And she had been weakened… This Aero-Kerre had abandoned her after sharing love with her. For a Jedi unacquainted with the snares of love, it killed her. It made him shiver as he thought of his own Bastila. He must leave her soon…
He was well away from the ruined Enclave. He suppose the Order could return here with some work but it would hardly be worth the effort.
Revan reached out in the force. The old man wasn't far. Corvis she had called him. Even from the path he could spy a hut below in the wooded downs. It was a round structure with a hat shaped roof. As Revan closed in on it he could see the door was shut. It looked many years old and in slightly better shape than the Enclave he had just left, slightly.
Revan made his way to the door and knocked. There was no answer. He gave the door a shove, it squealed open and stepped in. As he stood inside the hovel he was tempted to hold his hands over his head in case the roof decided it had seen too many years. The room smelled of smoke and was filled with ancient furniture that looked as if it had been hand constructed from fallen trees. Wookiees sleeping underneath the overgrown roots of a Wroshyr tree most likely got better shelter. A curious thing was that laying everywhere in the hut were tomes that looked like they barely survived some catastrophe. They laid strewn about, tossed on the floor and propped up against objects, lain on shelves and on the seat of most of the chairs. Revan was looking from one end of the strange place to the other when he was startled by a croak. It sounded like Belgarothian Junkman Toad with a Coruscant accent. It also sounded slightly annoyed.
"Are you in yet? I would hope you had the sense to knock off some of that rain water before you stepped in."
In walked an odd man in a large dull brown robe with a huge white cotton head of unmastered hair. He had in his hand a green bound book. When he saw Revan he nodded to himself and gestured at the book.
"Gross stuff, rain, promotes mold."
Far from understanding the current situation Revan cocked his head to the left. He couldn't say that this felt familiar or even approached making sense.
"I don't understand. Have we met?"
The old man shook his head.
"No, not yet. I suppose we should. My name is Rolando Corvis. Not named after the planet, mind. I've lived here alone for twenty years or better." He laid the book down on the arm of his chair. "The question to pose is who are you?"
Shaking out of his stupor, Revan nodded.
"I am Revan, former Lord of the Sith."
The old man croaked a surprised laugh.
"Is that really who you are? Just a former Sith? I was under the impression that Revan was far more than a former anything."
Revan was still unsure of the odd man. He had a manner that seemed so familiar.
"Are you sure we have never met?"
He laughed, which was made as a grinding sawing noise.
"Wouldn't you be able to remember if we had?"
Revan was about to answer when the old man raised his hand. An odd expression of concern formed over his features. "You've been followed here, boy." Revan nodded and was about to explain when the man motioned him to be silent yet again. He walked past Revan and locked the door. His voice replied in a hissing whisper. "I am not speaking of the woman. This one is darker."
Revan reached out into the force and felt outside of the house. He could feel every drop of bombarding rain, the Ebon Hawk far away at the Enclave hangar and something hanging about the loading bay, something trying not to be seen. It was near Bastila. Revan turned for the door, but was stopped by the little man.
"She is not in any danger. He is here to observe."
Revan turned on the old man with a look of annnoyance.
"Who in the force are you?"
"Me?" Rolando shook his round old head. "I'm an old master of the academy archives here." The old man removed several books from his chair and sat. "I was here when the Enclave was overrun by the Sith over forty years ago. I joined them and then they left and I stayed. Sith Lord by the name of Lord Masekre, who was once a student here by the name of Aero-Kerre Rokaine. Long name, huh? Sometimes I wondered if he joined the Sith to shorten his name." The old man laughed in remembrance.
Revan's eyes narrowed. "Joining the Sith is not a joke."
The old man rose forward and laughed, slapping his thigh.
"It was for Aero. He switched sides three times before he left with the Sith. The only Jedi I knew who could do such a thing. The old Masters were absolutely clueless as to why or how. He was the only one recorded in the history of the Galaxy who had done such a thing as to bait and switch the force so many times as he did. He seemed to be able to do it at will and even when he did switch it was always to further his own ends. Heard he died in the Battle of the Secrets at Falleen."
Revan felt the need to question about Aero-Kerre. It was as if the force had led him here and was tugging at his sleeve like an impatient child. So he raised an eyebrow and asked the obvious question.
"What was the Battle of the Secrets?"
The old man waved it off.
"Stupid little conflict. The Sith thought that the Falleen had plans to ransack the Republic from the inside and you know how persuasive the Falleen can be, Hah! I suppose the Sith didn't want the Falleen to muck up the Republic before they took over. Needless to say that the Sith did not take the niceties of diplomacy too seriously. There were accusations and peace talks that lasted hardly a week before the Sith attacked. Aero had just returned the Enclave to Jedi control and renounced the dark side. But when he heard the rumors about the Falleen's intents he reenlisted, died shortly after. Turned out that the Falleen had plans alright. Plans to send an emissary to the senator on Coruscant to negotiate Falleen's support of the Aratech company in the senate because of corporate deals the two had made. As for me, I was too lazy to do all that jumping around that Aero did. So instead of renouncing anything and rejoining anything, I set up shop here with a few Jedi archive reports I rewrote on standard Deralia paper."
As the old man related the whole event to Revan, he saw that Rolando began to stare more and more at him. Revan returned the stare for a moment before asking:
"What do you know about me?"
The old man smacked his lips and looked into Revan's eyes. After a time, an eternity to Revan, he shook his head and swore.
"Are you used to being handed much or is it unusual for you to put two and two together? Aero-Kerre was your father. He fell in love during one of his dark stints and it was probably the worst wound he ever got out of the dark side. That witch was something that even the worst Sith Lord would envy. She had him twisted around her finger in plan inside plans. She valued him because the Dark side seemed to only be able to touch him slightly. Very few knew what she intended but she, herself. I wouldn't be surprised if she had been the architect of the modern Sith."
Revan couldn't help but think that this news should affect him somehow, but he did not know how. He didn't feel sad or any mix of any emotion. He felt as a well of indifference and slight curiosity. But there was one question left to ask.
"Is her name Linda Tru?"
The old man held his laugh back this time making a soft snorting sound.
"No. Linda Tru was a youngling at the time. She was a local orphan found to be force-sensitive. Aero carried her around on his shoulders, both physically and metaphorically. When he came back with that Korriban witch, he had ignored the little girl that he had loved so much. The rest is History. If you want more you should ask Linda yourself. Or have you?"
The guilt began to form again. "Linda is dead." Revan said, swallowing hard.
The old man nodded approvingly.
"Did it yourself, did you? Cold. Very cold. But then she was damaged. Not right in the head, if you know my meaning."
"Actually, she took her own life."
The old man shrugged.
"She's one with the force and no longer in pain."
"So if she's not my mother, then is my mother still alive?"
The old man stared into nothingness for a moment, as if watching a bonfire or reading a book. Finally he shrugged again.
"I admit, I don't know. If she was, she would be on Korriban near that depression on the southeastern hemisphere."
Revan moved to the door when he found his arm snagged by the old man.
"Don't land on the depression. It's covered in Fech-Fech. Beneath that fine grain sand is nothing but a spider-web of caves looking for something to cause a sinkhole." Revan nodded but Corvis still held him. He gave him a hard stare. "And if you find Lady Yelena there on that pit of a world, it would be my advise to not listen to a thing she has to say, even if it's true." The old man's eyes dropped and he shook his head. "She has said enough already."
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Lady Yelena. A name Revan had never heard neither from the Jedi nor from the Sith. Traditionally the less you heard of a Sith Lord or Lady the more powerful and dangerous the Lord or Lady, the darker the heart and the more devious the soul.
Revan walked up to the landing pad to see another ship had landed. Outside of it was a crowd of Mandalorians, roaring in laughter and singing their bloodthirsty shanties as they unloaded crate after crate of weapons and materials. Skulking behind their numbers was a dark-caped man with a bald head.
"What's this then?" Cried one of them as they saw Revan walking out of the trees. The singing stopped and attention turned on Revan. As if in introduction Revan drew his lightsaber and ignited it. The Mandalorians saw the lightsaber and returned to unloading the equipment. Revan couldn't help but sense disappointment from them as he secured his saber. He knew they had hoped he was just a dumb native who had stumbled across their small army.
Revan made for the Ebon Hawk when he heard another saber ignite and a raging growl. He spun and dodged a blow from Linda Tru.
Linda gave him no time to draw his lightsaber. An endless barrage of blows followed that Revan ducked and darted away from. The Mandalorian began to gather and cheer. Whom they were cheering for was unknown.
Revan finally tucked and rolled, freeing his saber and igniting it.
Like a compassionate Jedi, he assumed Soresu more for concern of his opponent. He would flip away from her hateful blows or simply deflect them aside. He found he could not strike her down. He was up for killing her by proxy, as he had thought he had done, but when it came to ending her life with a saber stroke he found he could not. She fell in love with him because he looked like his father. The fury she was in was his fault.
She leaped into the air and tumbled into a front flip, making her a saber buzz saw . Revan pushed with the force and propelled himself out of her reach. He knew Linda wouldn't let him escape. There would only be one thing that would end this fight.
She landed in a frontward offensive stance, overbalancing herself and raising her center of gravity. It was sloppy. Revan rushed in low with an obvious feint. When she went to parry, he simply double backed and attacked high with a lateral Vlipmi maneuver, cutting and cauterizing the carotids. She made a strained face and fell backwards to struggle for a moment. It lasted a few seconds longer before she fainted and eventually died.
Revan felt his heart petrify. He shouldn't let himself feel sorry for her, but he did. She had begun her life as a creation of innocence, love and compassion. He felt a terrifying connection to this poor confused Jedi. He could feel his heart curl with guilt. They both had been hit by something that the sheltered Jedi Masters, in their misguided wisdom, had taught them to run and hide from. When that unexpected love found them… But she was mad and now at peace. It was as Rolando had said.
The Mandalorians were excitedly chattering and some were paying out bets they had made on the fight. Revan was on his way to the loading ramp for the Ebon Hawk when the caped man approached him. Revan was startled because he had forgotten the man was even present. It was disturbing, if unbecoming, not to notice or to forget something so obviously out of place. The man had a long thin twisted mustache that curled up at the ends and was accompanied by a goatee. He had a friendly grin on his face.
"Excuse me, sir." He cried, as he saw Revan walking towards the Ebon Hawk. "Would you, per chance, be the captain of this fine vessel?"
His voice had a silky refined and friendly sound to it, but with a flavor of amusing cynicism. He wore a folded and buttoned tunic with various sized pockets and a black cape covering his back. He carried a pack in his right hand and a cane in his left. Revan saw the possible dangers of warming up to him, though he certainly felt tempted. The man had an oppressive aura of likeableness.
"I am. My name is…Laigra, I'm an ex-Jedi; I run trade routes in my freighter."
The man continued as if he had not noticed the hesitation in Revan's voice as he was choosing his alias.
"My name Darswa. I am a traveling tailor, cook and ambassador from Druckenwell representing a firm that has a great interest in the untapped potential in the world of Deralia. I have spoken with the global regent here and have obtained permission, for the firm I represent, to begin a small plant here to harvest much needed resources."
Revan began to feel coiled and slightly annoyed.
"How can I help?" He asked, returning the man's unfading smile.
Darswa finally stopped smiling long enough to swallow and then resumed. The gesture came off as slightly nervous.
"Well, I am afraid I am slightly stranded for the moment. I appealed to these formidable Mandalorians and they made it clear that they had no intention of helping and that a Mandalorian brigade would be through here shortly. The remnants of the war, they said. They claimed that any vessel caught leaving would be fired upon and-" Eager to stop the dialog, Revan nodded.
"We will be flying near Druckenwell. It will be no problem to drop you off there, but we have stops to make first if that's alright?"
The Darswa's smile intensified and his eyes widened to resemble, what Revan would call, borderline psychopathic. Darswa reached a hand inside one of his tunic pockets.
"Perfect, thank you. How much would be appropriate?"
Revan shook his head.
"No need. As I said, we will be passing it anyway."
After Darswa thanked him again, the two boarded to find Bastila in the astrogation room. She turned to newcomer with an expecting look. Before she could start in and say something rash Revan jumped in.
"Bastila, this is Darswa an ambassador from Druckenwell." The man nodded, still smiling. Revan turned to Darswa and indicated Bastila. "Darswa, this is Bastila Shan, my traveling companion."
Catching his que, he smiled broadly and took Bastila's hand kissing it lightly on a knuckle.
"And what an absolutely charming companion too."
Bastila smiled, slightly confused.
"A-an ambassador?"
He nodded in agreement but held up his finger.
"A marooned ambassador, I'm afraid. My party left me here."
Revan nodded. "We're giving him a lift back to Druckenwell, as it is near Falleen."
Bastila mouthed the word Falleen to Revan, asking twenty questions at once. Remembering the third party present, Bastila regained composure.
"I-I see. Well, it is a pleasure to have you on board, ambassador. Could I have a moment with you, captain."
Revan almost collapsed in relief. He knew the chance that she would say his name in front of a complete stranger was remote, but even that slight possibility had frightened him. He nodded
"Yes, of course. Darswa, you will find accommodations down that corridor and to the left." Revan followed into the cockpit with a sinking feeling of dread. When they made it to the cockpit, Bastila shut the door behind her.
"What is going on? I am stuck here all by myself and then you pop out of nowhere with a stranded ambassador on your way to Falleen, which, by the way, is not going to happen." Revan's face contorted to show annoyance.
"And why not Falleen?"
Bastila rolled her eyes.
"Why not Falleen? Because I don't like the idea of you getting side tracked by a pretty Falleen and totally confuse the mission, whatever your mission is. And I'm not fond of the Falleen. They're so…stuck up."
Revan blinked.
"You…you're jealous!" He chuckled. "You think I'm going to fall for a Falleen and your jealous!" Revan's chuckle turned into a rolling laugh that infuriated Bastila.
"You arrogant self-absorbed child… Besides why shouldn't I be jealous? If a wayward ambassador can pick you up why not a falleen? And what reason would we have to go to Falleen?"