CHAPTER 3 – Dinner Date with a Dark Lord

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My cell could have been better, but it could have been far worse. I suppose I should have been grateful Revan didn't throw me into an abandoned Rancor pit—leftover bones, drool, droppings, and all. The cell was cramped, but at least I had a pillow. I found a pile of clothing on my bunk. They were the black robes of a Dark Jedi. I was met with my first moment of choice then. Should I be so stubborn that I remain only in my undergarments, the laughing stock of my captor? Or would I let pride get to me and put on the robes? I refused to put them on. Revan would not get a single concession out of me.

I found myself very tired and disoriented, and decided to sleep off whatever drugs I had been injected with. However, sleep eluded me. There was no blanket to go with my pillow. Worse yet, my captor had turned down the temperature in my cell. I persisted with my stubbornness for several hours, but in the end common sense dictated that freezing to death served no purpose. Besides, if I did manage to escape, running around in my undergarments was sure to get me caught again. I put on the robes. They were soft and comfortable, snugly fitting my figure. Revan was showing me both the stick and the carrot at the same time. He was very adept at such manipulation. Nevertheless, I did finally sleep with the warmth the robes provided.

My first order of business when I awoke was to get the neural collar off my neck. I knew escape would be difficult, if not impossible, but I had to try something. Rescue was doubtful, especially if I was on Revan's flagship. I would rather die attempting to escape than give Revan even the slightest chance of turning me to the dark side. I felt around the collar with my hands, but could not find any release mechanism. Likely only Revan could remove it, perhaps by remote control or biometrics. That left only one other option. I knew it would take long to gather the concentration required to regain my sense of the Force. If I could just concentrate long enough to break it...

I sat on my bunk and meditated for what must have been hours. I poured every ounce of concentration into breaking through the cloud shrouding my mind. Finally, I could feel the Force again. Just a flicker. I drew on it, and began to focus my whole being on breaking the collar. I could feel the Force begin to flow through me. I was almost there...

I reeled on my bunk with a yelp. It was as though a knife had stabbed through my neck. I had to bend over to breathe, recovering my breaths in gasps. The collar was clearly tamper-resistant, sending an electric shock through its prisoner upon any attempt to remove it.

I would have to escape with the collar on. No matter. Whether I had my powers or not, escape was likely to be suicide. Better suicide than risking a fall to the dark side. Not that I would deliberately try to harm myself. But I would force Revan's hand. He would have to let me go or kill me.

After I had fully recovered from the electric shock, I rose to inspect the door to my cell. My hand searched along the wall for any controls. Nothing. Apparently the door only opened from the outside. However, I did find a panel with screws. Likely it shielded the wiring to the controls on the other side of the wall. Perhaps if I could somehow unscrew it...

The food hatch on the door opened, making me jump back. I hadn't even heard footsteps. Not surprising, given my grogginess from the neural collar. A tray of food slid through. With silverware.

The meal was something barely edible from the food synthesizer. However, Revan had a very sarcastic sense of humor. The meal came with a piece of dark chocolate, as well as a single red rose that lay across the tray. He reveled in sending me mixed messages.

I ate the food synthesizer slop regardless of taste and texture. I would need the sustenance for my escape attempt. And yes, I did eat the chocolate. It probably contained more nutrition than what came out of the food synthesizer. It certainly tasted better. When I finished, I took the spoon provided me. I got on my knees in front of the door and got to work on the panel.

Hours later, after much twisting and painfully slow progress, the last screw finally dropped out. I lifted the panel from the wall. It was a tangle of wires inside. I couldn't tell which one would open the door, so I pulled on them one at a time. The door slid open at last. I rose quickly to claim my victory and step through the door, but stopped short. My breath caught in my throat.

"Revan."

"Why hello, Bastila. I see I've interrupted you in the middle of something very important."

I silently fixed an icy glare on his mask.

He crossed his arms. "Lost track of the time?"

"What?"

"It's 1800."

I stared at him quizzically.

"Dinner?"

"Y-you can't be serious!"

"I am always serious. Come, walk with me."

He didn't exactly give me a choice in the matter. Two soldiers entered. They forcibly pushed me out of my cell toward Revan, who offered his arm. With no other option, I fell into step beside him, but I refused to take his arm. This action, of course, did nothing to faze Revan. He simply took hold of my arm for me. As we walked down the corridor, the soldiers pointed their guns at me from behind. No doubt set to stun. Revan was no fool. He would not want to risk the health of his prize at the hands of two trigger-happy soldiers. Making a run for it would be pointless. And Revan knew it.

We walked out of the cell block and into the belly of the beast that was Revan's flagship. Many corridors and lifts later we entered a large room. A viewport with a magnificent view of the swirling stars of hyperspace filled one side. The room was sparsely furnished. Nothing lavish. Revan was a soldier through and through, even with all the power and wealth his empire afforded him. It had a very plain desk with a plain chair. A drab couch with a caffa table sat to one side, facing the viewport. Nearby was a small table with two chairs. I assumed it was his private office of sorts, perhaps even the anteroom to his quarters, as I saw another door, though it was closed.

"Please, do sit." Revan gestured to one of the chairs at the table. He dismissed the two soldiers with a brief nod.

I stubbornly crossed my arms and remained standing.

"This isn't about the neural collar, is it? I suppose I should have warned you about the anti-tampering device."

"H-how did you know that I..." I sputtered.

"You didn't think you wouldn't be monitored, did you?" I felt very foolish then. I had never exactly been held prisoner before, but surely I should have guessed. "Besides," he continued, "you were clearly trying to escape when I arrived, and obviously you would have tried to remove the collar before resorting to using a spoon to open the door."

Masters, forgive me. I felt nothing but revulsion for that man. He still continued to play these infuriating games with me. All for his own sick amusement. I'm sure the spoon was a setup. I suppose even having a panel that was screwed into the wall rather than welded should have been a warning flag to me. I couldn't help but glare at him with indignation.

"I do apologize for my manner, Bastila. But you must admit, it is rather amusing. I wonder what you'll try next?"

I kept my silence. He moved to place his hands on my shoulders, applying pressure to steer me toward the table. Once again, I found myself with no choice in the matter and sat down.

"There. Better, yes?" He sat down across from me and removed his mask. I refused to look at him, and stared down at the table. It had a single candle lit. A poor attempt at romance.

A Twi'lek servant girl—scantily clad, I might add—appeared bearing a tray with wine and plates of steaming food. She set the food down on the table before us, and proceeded to pour each of us a glass of wine (which, of course, I did not touch). I couldn't help but give an indignant sniff as she left. Just like a megalomaniac to surround himself with half-naked servant girls. I suppose there's nothing better for a male with all that power to do with himself. No self-control over his base emotions or primitive drives whatsoever. Truly, he was a slave to the dark side.

Revan noticed my cold manner toward the girl. "What's the matter Bastila? You aren't jealous, are you?"

"J-jealous? What-why...I...There's nothing to be jealous of!"

"Of course there isn't. You know I only have eyes for you." He leaned toward me, I'm sure seductively in his mind.

"Hard to believe that when you surround yourself with scantily clad women."

"So my little kinrath pup is jealous!"

"N-no! I-I...Oh, you are infuriating! I am only saying that you have lost all self-control over your primitive drives."

"Oh? Well, I never thought of it that way. I simply admire the female figure. And if my being surrounded by such scantily clad females makes you jealous, you are more than welcome to be scantily-clad yourself."

"Y-you're disgusting! To even think-"

"Please, Bastila, the food is getting cold." He pushed my plate toward me. I kept my arms crossed. "Don't knock it until you try it," he said.

"Nonsense! I would never wear so little just to amuse you!"

"No, Bastila, I meant the food. The butter-fried gizka is particularly good."

I blushed crimson. I just had foot-in-mouth disease that day. And the day before that. And probably every day of my life prior, but under such circumstances I had hoped to have more control over my sputtering. I finally thought it best to just shut up and eat something. Better to eat than to utter something even more embarrassing, if that were even possible. I stuck a fork into a gizka leg and raised it to my mouth. He was right. It was very good.

"I promise it's not poisoned." I spat it out. He laughed hysterically. I put the fork down and glared at him in stony silence, but that did little to stop his laughter.

Finally, he settled down. "Seriously, Bastila. You must try to trust me to some degree. You seem so tense. I'm only trying to lighten the mood between us."

"If I am tense, it is because I am held prisoner by a maniacal Sith Lord!"

"Bastila, surely you must know that I have no interest in harming you?"

"As I said, you're a maniacal Sith Lord. Your interests could change at a whim. What reason do I have to trust you for anything?"

"Your abilities are far too valuable for me to kill you. That should be enough."

"But it isn't. If you were to have the upper hand in this war, you would no longer need my abilities, now would you?"

"But I already do have the upper hand."

"Exactly."

"But I assure you that it is not enough. I want to end this war quickly and decisively. With you at my side,my fleet would be invincible. The Republic would soon surrender. We could avoid many senseless deaths. And"—he leaned forward—"even if I had my victory this very day, I would still want you by my side. There is always another war on the horizon."

I found his last statement rather cryptic. I meant to ask him what he meant by it, but he changed the subject.

"Anyway, enough talk of war for now. Such stressful topics should not be discussed over dinner. Bad for digestion. Wouldn't you agree?"

I looked at him incredulously. "Why else are we here if not to talk about my joining you?"

"Well, there's that. But I also want you to relax and enjoy your dinner. And, I hope, my company."

"And just why would I enjoy your company?"

"Because I'm charming?" He gave me a lopsided smirk.

I sniffed. "As charming as a drooling Rancor."

"I'm so glad you think Rancors are charming. I've always thought them so."

I rolled my eyes and took a bite of food to stop myself from retorting.

His voice dropped to a serious note. "I know you feel I'm nothing more than a mindless beast, Bastila. But what I have done, I have done for the greater good. I am not some murdering lunatic hacking away at random strangers with a lightsaber. I have a higher purpose." He was leaning forward intently now. "Some sacrifices must be made, yes. Am I a monster to make them? Yes. But in the end, the Republic will thank me. As will you, when you at last join me."

"I will never join you. You mask your greed with lofty ideals, but I see through your mask, Revan."

"Greed? Yes, I do admit that power has its appeal. But what good is power if it is not used for a grand purpose? I plan to use my power repair the Republic. The Republic is diseased and weak. Its leadership is corrupt. I will bring strength and purpose to it."

"It seems to me the Republic was doing just fine before you turned on it."

"May I remind you of the Mandalorian Wars? The Republic's weakness showed itself then. If it weren't for me, it would have fallen."

"You don't know that. The Order would have joined eventually. And if it weren't for you it wouldn't be falling right now. If you had just been patient to begin with-"

"Patient? You try being patient when defenseless women and children are being slaughtered!" He was shouting now. He caught himself, and sat back into his chair, closing his eyes.

"I apologize, Bastila. I only wish to make you understand. You only see one side of the coin. If you could have seen what I have seen..." He trailed off, and picked at his meal.

Maybe it was a need to understand him, to find a means of reasoning with him. Or maybe it was simple curiosity. But I had to ask him. "And what exactly is the other side of the coin?"

He dropped his fork and looked up at me. "Do you know why it is the Republic was losing the War before the Jedi joined? The Senate was too busy squabbling and playing politics over which worlds the fleet was to defend. Including the Supreme Chancellor. If the Republic's leadership had been less concerned with reelection and more concerned about people dying, I have no doubt the Jedi's aid would not have been needed."

I had no answer to that.

He continued. "That is why someone must bring strong leadership."

I averted my eyes and stared down at my plate. Then a thought occurred to me. I looked back up. "Why you? The War is over. There is no pressing need for a single leader to win a war. Why not let the people decide and elect new leadership if they deem it necessary?"

"The people are fickle. Their memory is short. Even if they vote out the current leadership, they will only replace them with more corrupt politicians. And like I said, there is always another war on the horizon."

"But why you? Why not another?"

"I was the one who led the Republic to victory. I shed my blood for the Republic. I gave up years of my life, even my position in the Jedi Order, to defend her. I deserve something back. The Republic needs me—my leadership. I can bring order to the galaxy."

I could not believe my ears. Whatever semblance of reason he had been displaying was quickly swallowed by his egomaniacal Sith persona.

I gave him a sad look. "You truly are lost," I said.

"No, Bastila. Quite the opposite. I have finally found myself."

He peered into my eyes for the longest time. Finally, he broke eye contact and returned to his meal. I released a breath I hadn't realized until then that I had been holding. We finished the meal in silence, for which I was grateful.

Before I knew it, the servant girl had returned and was taking away our empty plates. Revan rose and offered his hand. "Care to join me on the couch? I thought we'd have dessert there, since we're about to drop out of hyperspace. You can't beat the view."

I grudgingly accepted the proffered hand and allowed him to lead me to the couch. Several moments passed, and there was no sign of dessert. Revan must have noticed my puzzled expression.

"Dessert is in precisely"—he glanced at the chrono on his wrist—"fourty-eight seconds."

"Excuse me?"

"Wait and see." He continued to look at his chrono. "In three, two, one..." The ship dropped out of hyperspace with a slight shudder. "Ah, right on time!"

The swirl of stars focused into pinpricks. But more than stars met my gaze. Bright flashes of weapons fire from Revan's ship filled the viewport, unloading on a small fleet of Republic ships.

I froze in shock. All I could do was watch in horror as Revan's fleet annihilated the Republic ships in what seemed like slow motion. His fleet made quick work of them, and after several minutes the last remaining Republic ship exploded in full view. I winced and turned my head away. Away from the viewport. Away from Revan. Tears filled my eyes.

We sat there in silence. Finally, I could take it no longer. Rage filled me, to my shame. "Monster," I whispered.

I felt him lean in close to whisper in my ear. "You see, Bastila. Resistance is pointless. I will defeat the Republic with or without your help. You can either fall to the dark side, or be defeated by it. And judging by your tone, you are already falling."

At that statement I squeezed my eyes shut and fervently recited the Jedi Code in my mind. I had to get control over my emotions.

Revan's voice interrupted my recital. "Guards, please escort Padawan Shan to her cell." The two guards from earlier, whom I hadn't even realized had entered the room, dragged me to my feet.

Revan rose from the couch. "And, Bastila, do be ready by 0600 tomorrow."

The guards stopped. I looked at Revan quizzically. "Ready? For what?"

"Your training."

"Pardon me? I will do no such thing-"

"I believe you don't have much choice in the matter, my apprentice."

"Apprentice? I am certainly not your apprentice!"

"Well, if you didn't want to be my apprentice, then you shouldn't dress like it."

"Of all the-! I had no choice but to wear this!"

He shook his head with a smirk. "You always have a choice, Bastila. You could have remained scantily clad, for example. Albeit, I still win either way, don't I?" He shot me a wink, making the blood rush to my face in embarrassment.

His demeanor turned serious once more. "Still, you made your choice. Now live with it." He nodded sharply to the guards, who resumed escorting me out of the room.

Force help me, I wanted to kill that man. Forgive me my anger, Masters.