A/N: Sorry it took so long to post this chapter... I got very busy with school and totally forgot that I hadn't updated this fic yet, even though I had this chapter finished quite a while ago. I am desperately in need of a beta for this story, so if anyone is interested please email me. I need someone who is reliable (as in, will consistently be able to beta the chapters in a timely manner) and who will not hesitate to give comments and constructive criticism. Thanks ahead of time to anyone who might be able to help me out! Hope you enjoy this chapter! More should be following shortly.
Prophecies
Revan sat in the pilot's seat of the Ebon Hawk, watching out the viewport as her fleet took up an offensive position around the planet of Dantooine. She preferred to oversee her planetary conquests from within the freighter; not only because her enemies would never think the Dark Lord to be on such an insignificant ship, but because it reminded her of the Jedi Council's treachery and why she had come to Dantooine in the first place.
The audacity of the Council both amused and enraged her. When she had still been a Jedi they had preached about staying out of the Mandalorian Wars, about utilizing patience instead of violence. They had condemned her when she had left for war and labeled her a traitor and an outcast. But she had learned much during that war, and after she'd discovered the Trayus Academy below the surface of Malachor V, she had returned to them stronger and more powerful than they ever could have imagined. And that had frightened them.
They had not hesitated to fight then. They had not hesitated to use violence. They had risen up against her because she represented a dark stain on their precious Order, a stain that had to be wiped away before too many outsiders noticed that the Jedi Order had once again fractured. Revan smiled. She supposed she had been a very persistent stain…
She had not yet forgiven the Council for using her to try and get to the Star Forge. She didn't think she ever would. The hypocrites. The cowards. They had seen the change within her when she had come back from the Outer Rim; they had seen the potential in finding the source of her conversion. They had acted out of greed… greed for control, for power… the very things they taught their Padawans to avoid. They had claimed they wanted to destroy the Star Forge, but Revanknew that would never have happened. Not once they had found it. Not once they had felt its presence, tasted its power….
The fact that they had been so quick to judge her when she had left for the Mandalorian Wars, that afterwards they had been so quick to use her for their own purposes, and then had the gall to believe she might forgive them and rejoin their ranks – that was what made Revan hate the Jedi. She despised them for their lies, their pride, their narrowmindedness.
And that was why she was here. To finish her unfinished business with the Council. But she would not only destroy them, she would break them. They had destroyed her mind once; she felt it only fair to return the favor. Already her specially trained Elite assassins had reached the planet's surface. They would be preparing to enter the Jedi Enclave even now, and Revan had no doubt her soldiers would return to the Star Forge with more than a few Jedi Master captives. Such a thought made her very happy.
She sat back in the seat, watching as a few feeble orbital turrent blasts shot from Dantooine's surface and splashed harmlessly against her gunships' shields. She expected a Republic fleet would arrive within the hour; it was customary for them to send a few ships every time she came to take over a planet. They never really put up much of a fight, but Revan supposed the Republic wanted to at least look like it was trying to stop her. And she had no doubt they were trying to stop her… but their resources were not as endless as hers, and the whole of the Republic fleet had been severely diminished during the past year. She supposed they were saving the majority of their ships for the time when she would move toward the Core worlds.
She sighed, delaying the order to attack. She wanted to wait until the Republic fleet arrived. It was always better to destroy a few of their ships during the planetary onslaught, and she found it dampened the Republic's morale if their soldiers could see the destruction caused by her fleet firsthand.
Revan pulled HK's detached voice recorder out of the folds of her robe and turned it over in her hands absently. She had kept the recording of Carth's confession, though she didn't always understand why she carried it around with her. She had listened to it many times already, often to fill the time before an attack on the Republic. She liked to refresh herself on the military strategy he had spoken about. And… she liked hearing him admit his feelings for her. It was nice to know she still had some influence over him, whether he consciously realized it or not.
She glanced around the cockpit. She was not alone on the ship, but it felt empty. She had left Bastila on the Star Forge to keep an eye on things in her absence. Canderous had been appointed to a small fleet and sent to keep order on the Outer Rim worlds she had already conquered. HK-47 was out hunting, as usual… tracking down a few select people she had labeled important enough to assassinate individually. T3 the utility droid had remained with her on the Ebon Hawk, along with a few Elite Sith soldiers she had hand-picked herself and Kreia, one of her old Jedi Masters.
But Kreia was no longer a Jedi. The old woman had gone to fight in the Mandalorian Wars as well, and as a result had been exiled from the Order. She had also been the one blamed for Revan's turn to the Dark Side, and for this the Council had cut her off from the Force completely. How the woman had survived such a punishment was beyond Revan's comprehension, but it had certainly only fueled Kreia's hate for the Order… and for the Force itself.
The woman had insisted on coming along for this conquest, she wished to see the Council fall just as badly as Revan. They only had to wait for the arrival of the Republic fleet to set things in motion.
Revan set the voice recorder on the bulkhead in front of her and pressed the button that read 'PLAYBACK'. There was a burst of static and a string of incomprehensible words, and then Carth's husky voice filled the silence of the cockpit.
"I don't know why she... such a stubborn... never let things go... questions, always had questions... why did she have to...? …I don't understand... I thought she... I would have... I would have died for her... if only..."
He lapsed into jumbled murmurings again, but then his voice changed, becoming clearer and sharper as he recited: "...flagship at the front… gunships flanking… cruisers at the rear… fighters will try to come around… horseshoe the enemy… full compliment of officers on the flagship, only half on the gunships… formation will hold, won't scatter…"
Revan's thoughts drifted, carried along by the monotonous drone of Carth's words.
She was startled out of her reverie by a ripple in the Force: Kreia approached the cockpit. Revan reached forward and stopped the recorder's playback just as a soft knock came from the doorway. "Enter," she said at once.
The gray-haired woman came to stand behind the copilot's chair, the soft swish of her cloak loud in the quiet. The gnarled fingers gripped the back of the seat, and though Revan did not turn from the viewport, she could feel the heat of Kreia's sightless eyes on the side of her face.
"You should destroy that," Kreia stated simply in her low, throaty voice, nodding her head toward the voice recorder. "It does you no good to listen to him anymore."
Revan picked the small device from the bulkhead, holding it gently in her fingers. "It occupies me," she replied, just as simply.
Kreia snorted derisively. "If that is your excuse, it is a lame one."
At this Revan stood, turning to face her old Master in a swirl of black robes. This motion would have caused any of her other underlings to cringe with fear, but not Kreia. Kreia did not fear anything. Not anymore. And the woman did not need to. She had been very powerful once. Very powerful. She had not yet regained all of her former strength in the Force, but her confidence had never wavered. Still, Revan was not about to let the old woman forget who currentlyheld the title of Dark Lord.
"Oh yes," Kreia said calmly, undoubtedly sensing Revan's anger. "I will dare to speak to you in such a tone, for even the Dark Lord of the Sith must be shown her mistakes sometimes."
"Knowing the enemy's strategy is a weapon worth using," Revan said. "Even you must admit this recording has helped us win many battles."
"Yes, I will admit it," Kreia replied. "But you know that strategy by heart, word for word. That is not the reason you listen to that recording every time you think no one else can hear."
Revan's eyes narrowed to crescents beneath her brows. "No?"
"I do not need the use of my eyes to see the obvious, Revan. Nor do I need to probe your mind. It is painfully apparent to anyone who might take the time to watch, and listen, that the Dark Lord of the Sith – for all of her military genius and superiority in battle – has a weakness."
Revan drew herself up, glaring down at her former Master. "Be wary of your words, old woman," she growled, one hand already curled around the hilt of her lightsaber.
"Or what?" Kreia goaded. "You'll strike me down? Even as the Dark Lord you would find that difficult. There is more to the Force than dueling and battle, things you have yet to learn, things I have yet to teach you. But if you would kill me for speaking the truth, than so be it."
Revan scowled, her hand releasing the lightsaber.
A faint smile lifted Kreia's lips.
"You think because you were my Master once-"
"No," Kreia interrupted, "I do not think that. But you were my best student, and you have achieved greater things than I ever could have hoped for you. It would grieve me to see you waste such accomplishments over a fool of a man who should be far beneath your notice."
Revan stood frozen in place, so taken aback by the boldness of Kreia's words that she did not know whether to laugh or draw her weapon. "I think your age has finally caught up with you, old Master," Revan said at last, her voice unusually low.
"Yes, you deny it even to yourself," Kreia countered, her voice suddenly sharp. "Those with sight are often the most blind. Carth Onasi is your weakness, Revan. You fell for that fool even as he fell for you, and now you cannot let him go. You should have killed him long ago, yet you let him live."
"He must pay for his defiance!" Revan snapped.
"And what of Jolee, Mission, and Zaalbar? They also defied you, yet you did not hesitate to wet the sand with their blood, did you?"
"He betrayed me," Revan snarled, her anger mounting. "No one makes a fool of me! He will suffer!"
"He betrayed you?" Kreia mused. "More like you betrayed yourself, allowing yourself to feel so deeply for someone. He suffers because you suffer. You are punishing him for your mistake."
"Your powers are not what they once were, Kreia," Revan said quietly. "You are wrong."
"Very well," Kreia bit off. "Continue in your blindness, if you must. But I warn you, if you stay on this path, your reign as Dark Lord of the Sith will be all too short."
"He cannot possibly overpower me," Revan stated, unwilling to believe Kreia might actually entertain the idea.
The old woman sighed. "Your strategic insights and military prowess has served you well in the past, Revan, but I fear it has narrowed your vision in the present. Carth Onasi could never hope to stand against you in combat, in that you are correct. But there are weapons other than blasters and lightsabers in this world, and those are what he will use against you when the end comes. Those will be your failing."
Revan's fist had wrapped around her saber hilt again, but as always when Kreia began speaking cryptic prophecies, the Dark Lord had an intense desire to discover the true meaning behind the words. "Weapons?" Revan jeered, her voice clipped with impatience. "Weapons such as yours, old woman? Mind tricks and riddles?"
"Feelings," Kreia sneered in reply. "Emotions. That which you use against him even now. Love." She smiled, but it was a cold, malicious expression. "And if you do not harden yourself against him, if you do not severe those ties you cling to, you will fall… just as he has fallen."
Revan pulled her lightsaber from her belt, but did not ignite it. She stood stiffly, facing her former Master, glaring hard into the filmy, sightless eyes. "Get out," she whispered gruffly through clenched teeth, barely restraining the urge to see Kreia's head rolling across the cockpit floor.
Kreia remained still for a moment, then gave a low bow. "As you wish, my Lord." The tone bordered mocking, but then the old woman swept away with a whirl of her cloak and disappeared around the curve of the corridor.
Revan let out a growl of frustration, clipping her saber back to her belt and turning to the viewport, wishing she had an outlet for the anger that now boiled within her. Several more turrent blasts streaked up from the planet's surface, and then without warning seven Republic cruisers dropped out of hyperspace, nearly landing on top of her own fleet.
She immediately punched the comm button, a little too forcefully. "Gunships: begin the bombardment," she barked into the speaker. "Cruisers: concentrate all fireon enemy ships, provide cover for our gunships. Infantry: move in on your marks."
At once the space before her filled with light: bright criss-crossing beams of laser fire, burning blue tails of proton torpedoes, orange fireballs of explosions, blinding white flashes of gunshiporbital-bombardment missiles.
Revan watched the organized chaos, her anger fading in the joy she took from battle. She lifted the hand that still held the voice recorder, mulling over her old Master's words.
But there are weapons other than blasters and lightsabers in this world, and those are what he will use against you when the end comes. Those will be your failing.
Her gaze returned to the planet below her, and in her palm the small recording device sparked and cracked as it crumpled into a useless ball of scrap.
TO BE CONTINUED...
