Jolee: You know, you remind me of someone I used to know. Promising young person, great destiny. Breath like a bantha.
Amnesiac Revan: Did you annoy this person endlessly, too?
KOTOR
She was on the elevated ring of the Jedi Council Chamber. The twelve chairs of the Masters did not border the room, however, only one obsidian high backed chair, a throne if she were generous, stood directly opposite the stone entrance to the Chamber. She sat upon the chair, one hand cupping her chin as the other played idly with the strangely familiar weight of the lightsaber at her side. The city planet of Coruscant throbbed with life outside the windows as always, but inside the Chamber there was only her.
And him. She called it a him for convenience sake, for in truth no matter how long she focused on the figure she could not determine a gender, or a species, or any defining feature. He simply was. With the logic of dreams, she knew the formless Jedi before her had both always been there, and had not been present until she turned to notice him. The Master, she knew beyond the shadow of a doubt he was a Master, stood on the lowered platform before her. An inactivated lightsaber hung limply in his hand and his eyes stared unseeing before him until her gaze fell upon him. The instant she acknowledge his existence, his eyes met hers, and for a moment she was taken aback by the look in them. A haunted hopelessness lingered in them, the gaze of the long hunted pray, captured at last. And pain. The pain of a thousand lost souls, a million lifetimes worth of regret and loss shined at her through his eyes.
She stood from her throne, walking to the very edge of the elevated circle before she tilted her head at him. The voice that left her throat was undeniably hers, but tinged was with a soul deep pain that the young Revan could not begin to comprehend.
"Why? Why must it be this way? Has the code blinded you so? Can you not feel the pain of this dying galaxy?"
He said nothing, only staring at her with the same haunted eyes.
"I will ask again, Jedi. How can you justify yourself? Why have you let it come to this?"
He turned from her, his eyes down cast as she continued, begging to know how this had happened, why the Code had been allowed to fail so utterly. He never said a word, as if he couldn't hear her.
Suddenly, they were no longer alone. The room was filled with wild, angry sentients. Humans and aliens of all sizes and shapes, some bleeding or burned, wailing children and shouting men surrounded them. They pointed at the Jedi, screamed and cursed, and Revan rocked backwards at the wall of hate that flooded her senses from the mob. They surged forward then, falling on the Jedi. He never moved as they tore at him, and soon she lost sight of the lone figure.
Hours or seconds passed, time meaningless in her vision, and finally the crowd fell back to leave the torn and bloodied Master laying on the floor. A wordless chant rose from the crowd, throbbing though her veins as the meaning surfaced in her mind. The lightsaber in her hand hissed to life, the silver blade extending as she stepped forward. Her eyes never left the broken figure before her as she raised her arm, then swung down in one fluid motion. There was no blood, no body, only a tarred cloak fluttering to the ground as her blade sliced through his chest. She deactivated the saber, and the blade that flickered off now gleamed a brilliant red against her black robes.
A dead silence had fallen over the chamber and she turned to gaze at the mob, but she was once more alone, the countless beings having faded into nothing at the swing of her blade. She turned from the fallen robe to return to her throne, only to discover it too had vanished. She continued forward to stand at the Chamber window.
She reached a hand to touch the glass and gasped, recoiling at the sight that flashed before her eyes. She could see thousands of billions screaming, crying for the man she had cut down. Across the Galaxy an inhuman wail rippled through the Force at his loss. And then she heard a whisper rising below the wail, a quite murmuring that made her fist clench in grieving rage.
The countless masses were whispering her name, and leaving her the blame.
"It was all for you!" she screamed, sitting bolt upright from the bunk below her. Or at least she attempted to, as half way through the motion her head slammed against solid wood, sending her sailing back into the bunched robes severing as her pillow.
Both hands came up to rub the throbbing spot on her forehead as she moaned pitifully on the bunk, the memory of the nightmare evaporating like mist at the white hot pain. She pulled a hand away hesitantly, checking for blood. She groaned again at the thin layer of sticky red liquid covering her palm and turned to look for something to stem the flow. Everything had gone blurry around the edges as she attempted to search her surroundings; the entire world appearing as nothing but fuzzy brown, spotted with the occasional shapeless blobs of color. A darker brown than background blob suddenly moved towards her, and her senses screamed at her through the Force that it was a sentient, one who shared a connection with the Force at that. And though she could sense both near by, the figure approaching her was most certainly neither her Master nor Malak.
"Well," the blob ventured in an amused drawl, "while that is certainly a sweet offer, I'm afraid you're a bit young for me."
"What?" she snapped, the world slowly starting to take on a more definite shape as her mind cleared from the blow.
"Killing all those katarns for me, even if you couldn't finish the job. Seems that the only thing you've had time for, unless there's something else in that 'all' you did for this old coot you'd like to talk about."
Revan shook her head, grimacing at the pain the simple gesture brought. The blob before her laid a hand on her head, and she sighed softly as the rejuvenating feeling of Force healing washed over her. Opening her eyes she was able to finally get a good look at her surroundings.
"Am I," she questioned slowly, "in...a tree?" As she took in the area, she had to admit that a tree was pretty much the only option she could come up with. The single circular room was a fairly good side, at least twenty feet in diameter, and had the entirely of its furniture, from the table and stools to the hollowed out shelf which was currently doubling as her bunk, carved from the walls and floor themselves.
"Now, I know your feelings are hurting from my rejection, but that's no reason to be looking' down on a man's only home."
Raven sighed, using the bunched robes under her head, her own torn and bloodied robes she discovered, to wipe away the blood still lingering on her forehead from the healed wound.
"What, in the name of all that is good and logical, is going on? And just who are you, anyway?" She finally took a good look at the man currently talking to her. The old man wore the pale brown robes of a Jedi, complete with a lightsaber clipped to his belt, ane the white mustache and goatee served as the only hair on his wrinkled head. The man chuckled at her from his squatting position before her.
"Why, I'm the crazy old man of the Shadowlands, don't they teach you kids anything these days? I'm also the one who saved your pretty little behind from a certain and digestion related death."
"Digestion related?"
"Yup. What do you think happens when a katarn eats you, a jump through hyperspace?"
Revan gave a frustrated sigh in response, sitting up, carefully this time, to swing her legs over the side of the recessed bunk.
"Not that that one wasn't doing a pretty bang up job," the old man continued, gesturing to Malak's unconscious form on a table across the room, "but even a lad his size can't hold out fighting on ground forever."
She turned to regard Malak for a moment, mentally sighing in relief at the fact his wounds seemed to have been healed as well and he was currently breathing peacefully, though certainly in a cramped position, not too far from her. Idiot. Giving up the higher ground like that. Did he want to get himself killed? The grateful feeling that bubbled up at the thought he had rushed to save her was promptly squashed. Really, some people just had a hero complex.
"Listen," she began, speaking slowly to be sure she was understood, "crazy person. Who are you?"
It was his turn to sigh as he shook his head at her "That's the problem with young people these days, no patience at all, no motivation to figure out the riddles on their own. Why, when I was your age we'd sit outside the Temple, just begging the Masters to spout something cryptic at us so we could have the joy of spending the afternoon puzzling out what they meant. Ah, those were the days. You had properly cryptic Masters back then too, none of these new fangled honest and sincere types you have running around these days. Why, I remember Master Garsh…."
"And when was this, exactly?" she interjected agitatedly, "Before the Jedi and the Sith split?"
"Ho ho! Don't we have a sharp one here? Keep that up and I'll be forced to reconsider your offer."
"What offer? For Force sakes, what are you talking about!?"
"That is quite enough, Jolee. I believe my Padawan has been through enough for one day." Master Zhar entered the tree room, ducking slightly to pass through the doorway.
"Bah," Jolee retorted, "That's exactly the rotten attitude that's ruin this generation of Padawan's, all coddling and no tribulation. Why, when I was her age…"
"You ran around the Galaxy doing precisely as you pleased as well, I believe." Zhar mentioned serenely. "And if you are so concerned over the education of our Padawans, you should not be so quick to refuse my offer."
"Bah," the human repeated with less enthusiasm, "I'm too old to be changing a bunch of head strong youngling's diapers. Too old to be changing my own headstrong ways, too. My answer ain't changin'."
Zhar shook his head, remaining silent. The momentary pause was quickly filled by the confused Revan. "Excuse me, Master…Masters…but what is going on here?"
Jolee looked slightly horrified and turned to the Padawan with a quick protest "Master? Now hold up there, missy, don't going throwing around insults at people you just met. Passing judgment before getting to know a persons character wasn't the Jedi way when I was at the Temple. I'm no kind of a Master, nor any kind of a Jedi, when it comes to that."
"But…" she was really starting to get confused now, "You're defiantly not a Sith…"
"There you go!" Jolee exclaimed, "That's more Jedi of you! Cut the world into nice, neat little pieces, and just ignore all the ones that don't quite fit."
"Jolee," Zhar cut in sternly, "Enough." The Master turned to the confused Padawan, smiling slightly at her distress. "Revan, this is Jolee Bindo. He was a Padawan at the Temple many," he glanced at Jolee, "many years ago. We have come to this planet in order to speak with him."
She appraised the not-Jedi not-Sith before her for a moment. "You're the suspicious activity?"
He laughed, "Ah, is that the code for crotchety old men now? My, the Masters have run out of creative terms since I left."
"Why did you leave?" she questioned.
Zhar spoke before whatever glib comment Jolee had prepared could be uttered as Malak groaned softy in his sleep, shifting on the too small table he was strewn across.
"It would seem this conversation is disturbing the healing sleep of my other Padawan." The Twi'lek Master gestured to the door, "Perhaps you should go gather some supplies for this evening's meal, Jolee. If you would take my more boisterous student with you, I am sure your conversation would be less disruptive to the surrounding flora and fauna than it is here."
"What is the Galaxy coming to," the human muttered even as he headed towards the door, "that a Jedi can just barge into an old man's house and start ordering him around. Not even cryptic like, either. I knew exactly what he was talking about. Proper Master would have left us puzzling for at least an hour over what he wanted."
"In such case, you would still be here rather than fulfilling my objective, " Zhar reminded him pleasantly. "Revan, I trust this trip will be far less exciting that this mornings activities."
Revan looked helplessly at her Master, silently begging not to be sent into the woods with a babbling, senile old man who would choose living in the middle of a swamp over the Temple. As Masters are know for doing, however, Zhar merely smiled at his Padawan's discomfort and wished her a safe journey.
Revan sighed and climbed off the bunk. Grabing her vibroblades from the pile of gear by the door, she headed out to trail after the already rambling old man ahead.
"Now," he resumed with relish once she had caught up, "as I was saying. Master Garsh was a bit of a loopy individual. Eccentric, we called him, because who calls a Master of the Force loopy to his face, eh? Anyway…"
This, Revan decided, was hell. Master Zhar had lied to her; this wasn't a mission she was privileged to accompany him on: this was where bad Padawans were sent to die. She and Jolee had only been walking for ten minutes, and she was sure if another ten passed in the same fashion she would be force to forsake the Light and put the crazy old man out of her misery.
"…now," he rambled on as he led her, apparently at random, through the pathless wilderness of the Shadowlands, "that was back in the day that we had real Sith running about, not these troubled teenagers you get today. Ho, boy, today's Sith would wet their frilly little princess dresses if they ever ran into one of the good old boys. Not that the Sith are all bad, and not that you should be telling ol' Zhar I said that, they have their charming moments…"
"Do you ever stop?" Revan finally broke down and asked, discipline failing the girl as her famous temper finally got the best of her. "I mean, seriously, do you just sit in the tree storing up all these stories so that you can talk anyone who bothers you to death? Is that the plan? 'Cause I have to tell you, it's working really well if it is."
"Well, well," Jolee remarked smugly, "I was wondering where that spunk went to. Was starting to think that blow to your head was the only thing making you interesting. Good to have you back, missy."
"You were doing that on purpose." She accused, sending an annoyed glare out of the corner of her eye.
"Of course. Best way to get to know a Jedi is to wear down that ridiculous wall of self-denial down."
"Self-denial?"
"I'm not that old little girl; I remember what I just said!"
"That wasn't what I meant! What do you mean self-denial? Jedi are supposed to have endless patience, you know. Comes from all the discipline and inner peace."
"Bah, that's just what they tell you young ones to get you to shut up and go play on someone else's lawn. Suppressing your feelings to the point even you don't know they're there isn't discipline, it's denial."
"My, I wonder why you never made it to being a Master." Reval drawled, rolling her eyes.
"If that's why I'm out living in this swamp you better take a good look around, kiddo. You're going to want to make yourself at home."
"And what is that supposed to mean?"
"Little lady like you who goes running around, killing poor animals and disrespecting her elders ain't exactly the image of inner peace and discipline."
"I am full of inner peace!" She snapped, her face turning a deep shade of red at the amused look he gave her after that outburst.
"Oh, shut up."
"Might want to have someone take a look at those ears of yours, I didn't say a thing."
"You were looking at me in that tone."
"And just what tone might that be?"
"Never mind." She blew a frustrated breath out, ignoring Jolee's quiet chuckles at her expense.
"What do you have against the Jedi Code?" She asked at length, the nagging curiosity about one who claimed to be neither part of the Light or Dark side finally winning over her reluctance to start him talking again.
"Ain't got a thing against the Code, just against the ones who claim to know it."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning, some rights are right no matter where the Jedi say it leads you to, and some wrongs are wrong no matter how much they may forgive it."
"I was wrong," she stated flatly, "with that kind of cryptic talent, you'd make a perfect Master."
"Ow, no need to be resorting to insults."
"Well, explain your explanation, then."
He laughed, finally coming to stop before some type of wooden, sentient built structure.
"I'll explain it to you when you're older. For now, just remember this: the Council ain't the Code, the Code's the Code. Too many people forget the difference. Now," he rubbed his hands together as he suddenly changed the topic, "be a good little Padawan and climb up that scaffolding there, what we're looking for's sitting on the platform at the top."
Revan sighed, accepting temporary defeat in the face of his ramblings. She grasped the bottom rung of the wooden platform, marveling for a second at the fact vines alone seemed to hold the over thirty foot structure together. Swinging herself up, the short Padawan quickly made her way to the top. Forgoing the scaffolding for her tip down, she grasped the package tightly against her chest and leapt down, landing perfectly on both feet next to Jolee. Moving the package away from her chest, Revan nudged one of the covering folds aside to gaze inside.
"Fruit?" she questioned upon looking inside. "Why is there a bundle of fruit sitting on a platform in the middle of the swamp?" She took a second look in the bundle as Jolee took it from her. "None of that looks like it's from around here, either."
"The young, always so quick to jump to outlandish conclusions. Of course the fruit is from Kashyyyk, it's just from the higher levels of the forest."
"What, from the Wookiee villages?"
"There you go, using your brain for once! These fruit were lowered down to me by those very loveable creatures."
Revan puzzled over this as they began walking back to the literal tree-house.
"Why would the wookiee's be sending you fruit baskets?"
"Well…" Jolee coughed uncomfortably, picking up the pace slightly.
"Well…?"
"The wookiee's seem to have gotten into their heads that I'm some kind of guardian spirit of the forest, sent to protect them when they venture too deep into the Shadowlands." He glanced at her sheepishly, obviously embarrassed by the misunderstanding.
Revan paused for a moment, walking silently as she digested that piece of information.
"That's going to be disappointing." She said at length.
"How's that?"
"When the wookiee's discover you're their guardian spirit. Would be enough to turn most people off religion, I'd think."
Jolee sputtered for a moment. "Now, you listen here missy…" He was cut off by the loud laugh that erupted from Revan's throat, the Padawan actually clutching at her sides in pain as she walked from the intensity of it.
"Bah," he groused sometime later, "that's what you get from kids these days. No respect. If I treated a senior citizen like that when I was your age, not that such a thing would have ever crossed my thoughts back then mind you, I wouldn't be getting off so easy, believe you me. Why, I remember this one time…"
Revan grinned as he renewed his babbling, happily bantering back and forth with the older Force user as they walked back to his home.
The Council isn't the Code, huh?
A/N: I would like to credit the foundation of the vision Revan has to the dream Pilate and his wife have concerning Pilate's role in the death of Christ, and especially to how the event is portrayed in the musical Jesus Christ Superstar. Any familiar with the musical may notice that certain lines of the vision were borrowed in an altered version (or in some cases, nearly verbatim) from the song 'Pilate's Dream.'