Love and Redemption: Hero's Return Part 2
Revan sat with his legs crossed and his hands resting on his knees. Shadows darted along his handsome facial outline as the flames from the fire before him popped and crackled. Bastila had to marvel at how Revan could remain so calm in the midst of hundreds--no--thousands of gathered Sand People! At any moment one of the chieftains might decide to kill the outsiders and be done with it. Along with Revan and Bastila were HK-47 and his brothers (It seems they go everywhere together, Bastila thought to herself), once more acting as translator and interpretor. Jolee, Juhani, and Atton, stood some feet away from the fire as it was a private meeting between Revan and the chieftains. The air was so tense; you could cut it with a vibroblade.
"Next time, I'll stick with the force cage," Atton grumbled.
"You obviously haven't heard an uller during mating season," Jolee retorted, eyes scanning the Sand People as he did. "It'd make a sober man turn into a bloody alcoholic."
Bastila hushed them both as the chieftains finally stood, turned to their comrades and kin, and raised their gaderffii sticks in howls of war and victory. The assembled tribes followed suit and the Tatooine night was filled beyond the brim with the howls and grunts of the Sand People. Bastila, sensing no bloodlust, at least towards them, released a sigh of relief. Revan donned the grey hood on his robes and moved back toward the group, HK and the HK-51's in tow.
"So, they've agreed?" Bastila asked cautiously.
"Yes," Revan rubbed his, the last few weeks of preparation for war had been wearing him out: "For the first time in Sand People history, the rival tribes will rallying together and combine their resources to fight the True Sith."
"Forboding Extrapolation: That is 'if' the Sith meatbags decide to occupy this deadweight rock," HK commented as the party moved towards the nearby Ebon Hawk.
"I'd watch what I'd say about Tatooine with the Sand People around," Jolee cautioned the assassin/protocol droid. "They might take offense..."
The group quickly boarded the Hawk and prepared for take off. As everyone strapped in, Atton took a glance at the quiet Juhani sitting a couple of seats away from him. He'd seen her only a few times over the years, but he had to admit if Revan hadn't gone for Bastila, he certainly would have gone for Juhani. Jolee looked over at Atton, glanced in the direction of Juhani and rolled his eyes. Atton noticed and looked over at him.
"Say, do you think a girl like her and a guy like me--"
"No."
Very little more was said on the rest of the trip back to Coruscant as Atton sulked in the corner, Jolee grumbled about the food dispenser again, and Juhani meditated on the odd feelings she'd felt eminating from Atton.
Up in the cockpit, Revan sighed and leaned back into the pilot's seat. For the last 3 months he and the crew of the Ebon Hawk had been working non-stop to strengthen the Republic's defences in preparation for the True Sith. Rallying the Sand People had been a risky, last second option, suicidal almost, but it had worked. Revan ran his fingers over his face, feeling the new grown whiskers stubble his hands; he'd forgotten to shave again. He was also incredibly exhausted; he'd been sleeping less and less due to his strenuous work. Bastila stared at Revan her porcelain face had worries written all over it.. She was afraid all this constant work would eventually catch up with his health….
"When we get back to Coruscant," she finally stated. "You need to rest; I can see you need it."
Revan glanced toward her, then looked back out the view port. "Your eyes may deceive you, don't trust them."
"I'm not old enough to have bad eyesight, yet, Revan. Besides, you really need to get some more sleep. Everyone can see it."
"I can't afford rest right now," Revan responded firmly. "Every minute wasted in rest is one more minute the True Sith get to use against us."
Bastila put her hand on Revan's shoulder. "Even you need rest, my love. You can't fight in this condition."
"We don't have time to discuss this in a commitee."
"I'm not a commitee, and we're not discussing it. I'm telling you to get some sleep now."
Bastila moved over pulling Revan out of his seat and wrapped his arms around her. "Besides," she added slyly. "You still owe me a few nights..."
Revan smirked. "You still haven't had enough?"
"Arh-arh."
Once again, their lips met in a passionate kiss. Bastila led Revan by tugging on his robes into the cabin room and locked the door behind them...
Carth sighed as he looked from a balcony at the several hundred Mandalorian Warriors in the hangar bay. Since the Republic Troops were not keen on giving or sharing their beds with the Mandos, Canderous had decided they would set up in the Spearhead's hangar. Carth had to admit, he wasn't happy to work with Mandalorians either, but he'd fought beside Canderous before and Revan had made it clear that the Mandalorians would be needed in the upcoming invasion. Until then, he would have to keep his and the crews' temper in check.
"You look like something's eating you, fly-boy."
Carth turned towards the female voice to find Mira standing behind him with her hands on her hips. If it wasn't for the forked-lightsaber on her belt, Carth'd never guess she was a Jedi; the way she acted and held herself said otherwise.
"I'm just trying to keep patient," he replied, looking back into the hangar. "It's not exactly easy to put aside old grudges."
"I know what you mean," Mira responded as she joined him and looked at the gathered warriors.
"It's just that the Mandalorians almost destroyed the Republic and slaughtered so many. I remember back when I was a lieutenant, I thought the only good Mando was a dead Mando. At the end of the war, I was almost convinced to join Revan in the hunt for the remaining Mandalorians; they'd caused so much trouble for us, it only seemed fair to do the same. But...certain...'actions' that day by some men under my command made me decide to return to the Republic."
Mira looked up at Carth. She remembered when she was captured at Malachor V and was stripped of her weapons and armor. She remembered when she was tied and gagged and was beaten and almost raped by angry Republic soldiers! Two of them had almost torn all her clothing off when two stun blasts had knocked them off their feet and made the others jump! The one who'd stopped them approached them with two blasters drawn and had placed them under arrest. Before she'd blacked out, she'd managed to get a look at the officer's face. It had been Carth.
Mira looked away from Carth. She didn't want to admit it, but at the time she was rescued she thought she could have loved him. And now, thinking back, that same feeling had returned. But she didn't want to feel that way; it was like having to kill one of her bounties. She couldn't afford to love someone when another war was about to begin and they might be parted.
"I should go," she said in a forced calm. "I need to...meditate."
Carth turned and watched Mira leave, almost wanting to stop her but not. Why did he feel this way? Could it be possible...he could care for someone else other than Morgana?
Zalbaar looked over his thousands of Wookie brethren and warriors. They'd come from all nearby villages, responding to the quick-climbers' message and more were on the way. They were armed to the teeth with ryyk blades, slug throwers, bowcasters, battle shields, and wore heavy ancestral helmets, pauldrons, and ammo halters. Their long manes had been tied into braids and dreadlocks decorated with ribbon and bone-beads, several had even died their fur with paint around their faces, chests, and arms, making them seem like remnants of the old clans who'd lived in the Shadow Lands rather than in the branches like their comrades. When the True Sith arrived, Zalbaar proudly thought to himself, they will regret even thinking of coming.
"BROTHERS!" Zalbaar roared, raising Bakka's blade high in one hand and his bowcaster in the other. "The time of the Wook Warrior has come!! Let the spirits of the forests join us in our charge; let our ancestors guide our blades; let our enemies tremble and fall in our wake; and if we should die, let our spirits arise again as great wroshyr trees so we may strengthen our people further!!
The response was enormous. Roars, grunts, and howls were combined with feet stamping the ground, paws beating on chiseled chests, and swords on shields. The trees all across Kashyyyk began to sway gently, as though they too wished to join the coming fight. Zalbaar took his chieftain helmet, worn by all chieftains before him including his father, and placed over his head and joined his voice to the chorus of his warriors. That night, the sound of drums, gongs, and battle horns, made even the most fearsome predators of the Shadow Lands quake with fear.
On Dantooine, Jaden and Brianna sat on an ammo crate watching Mission running back and forth amongst the militia. She had been teaching useful skills such as camoflauging themselves without a stealth-field generator handy, and sneaking a grenade or land-mine into the enemies' midst without being detected. Bao-Dur and T3-M4 had set up a station with Akkere taking shipments of droids and modifying them for battle, Visas and Dopak had gone on a search for remaining mercenaries to convince to join the fight, and Jaden and Brianna had been working with Zherron and Adare on evacuating the citizens who didn't want to fight.
Jaden shook his head, smirking at the young Twi-lek berating an older and taller militiaman who'd called her a kid.
"I'd forgotten how much energy they have at their age," he stated, wrapping his arm around Brianna and pulling her closer. "Are Echani children the same?"
"All children in any species are energetic," Brianna responded softly. "It's just how they deal with it."
Jaden kissed Brianna on the head and took a deep smell of her soft, silver hair. They continued to watch Mission's antics in content silence, letting the gentle, warm breeze of Dantooine caress them. Brianna finally broke the silence.
"Would you like to have one?" she asked.
"Say again?" Jaden responded, not understanding the question.
"Would you like to have a child?" Brianna clarified, looking directly into his eyes.
Jaden stammered, caught completely by surprise. "A child? Now? With an invasion so near?"
"I mean when it's over. When we can continue our lives."
"But the Jedi Code--"
"You're worried about the Jedi Code, now? After everything that's happened?"
"W-well...I mean...it's all so sudden...do you want me to--"
The thin wrist struck Jaden right on the chin, making him fall head over heels off the crate onto the concrete. As he started to get back on his feet, he managed to bring his right hand up to catch the foot coming towards his face. Pushing back on his hands, he stood up in a basic Echani combat stance. Brianna, recovering from her blocked blow, struck an offensive pose. Her eyes gleamed with the light of combat and her robes flapped in the wind, giving her the look of a legendary warrior.
"Brianna! What are you--"
"No talking!" Brianna struck again, her hands a blurry of strikes and moves. "Just fight!"
Jaden, initially taken aback by this sudden change in the mood, shifted into a concentrated state and began to fight Brianna for real. Back and forth they battled across the parade ground, paying no heed to the attention they attracted from the militia trainees and nearby settlers. Punch, kick, jab, block, dodge, counter, it all moved without end. Their grace was as elegant as the most exotic bird; their speed was as quick as the fastest starship. The onlookers were amazed at the skill of the two Jedi lovers; it seemed more like a dance than a martial arts contest. At last, Jaden managed to hook his leg behind Brianna's and tripped her to the ground where he pinned her and held his face inches away from hers.
Brianna smiled and stated, "I'm glad you agree..." before Jaden placed his mouth over hers, adding further confusion to the audience as to what had just happened and what the two agreed to.
The black-cloaked figure looked at the viewscreen of the gigantic, ball shaped starship, his eyes watching the floating remnants of Malachor V. He unfolded his arms but did not turn his gaze. At last he spoke.
"When was this discovered?" he softly said in a hollow, toneless voice, like listening to a shadow breath.
"Approximately half an hour ago, great Sith'ari," a second cloaked figure answered. He folded his grey hands before he continued, revealing black crystals seeming to grow out of his skin. "Investigations conclude that it was ripped apart by a powerful gravitational force. As to the hulks of destroyed ships, we believe them to belong to this 'Republic' we now seek. We're still picking what artifacts are salvageable from the rubble."
The first figure finally turned and lowered his hood. On his forehead, amidst the tribal tatoos on his face that traveled down to his hands and feet, were three large, black, crystals curving upward giving him the appearance of a grey devil. His left eye was golden, his right was blood red, his teeth, which gleamed the purest white, were filed to fangs, and his hair fell in long braids down to his shoulders. His very visage could strike fear into any opponent. His name was forgotten, the only title he could carry was the Sith'ari. This was the True Sith Lord.
"It matters not," the Sith'ari concluded. He walked away from the screen towards a large, granite, crystal shaped structure, which opened to reveal a seat carved out of the rock. Sitting down he looked over at the second figure. "This world had long lost its usefulness to the Empire. Burn it to dust... All of it..."
As the order was relayed to the fleet; all the ball shaped warships turned their gaze on the remains of the taboo world and fired. Within less than 20 seconds, the wreckage of Malachor V was wiped from the galaxy. The True Sith had arrived...