o.O.o
Lust
o.O.o
Korriban, in many ways, was the easiest planet of them all. No laws to restrict even the most drastic of tactics, no need to keep up appearances, no sand and no local tribal wars. But mostly, the first of those.
Revan, while now comfortable with her entourage and what had happened to her, still felt that things could get somewhat better between them. Whatever their words, most of them were still treating her with partial awe and partial fear. It was as if and embodiment of the Force had appeared in front of them simply to set off a large grenade in their faces, to be perfectly blunt and simple.
HK-47 was the one who found this trip most enjoyable. There were times when she suspected the droid would have wept with joy, if such a thing was possible for him and wouldn't rust his precious circuits. Her poor creation remembered all that had happened since that very last assassination mission she had sent it on and told her everything she needed to know. She preformed some delicate repairs and, by the time they were leaving the planet, the droid was better than new, even.
Canderous treated her with such militaristic respect that one would think she was Mandalore himself. Revan was more than familiar with the mindset of his people, even though she had despised them whole-heartedly for the misery they had brought the galaxy and couldn't forgive them completely even though she now knew that there had been a driving force behind them. Still, the battle-hardened warrior was the only non-droid ally of whose loyalty she was absolutely certain the entire time. Mandalorians viewed survivors and victors as the only ones worthy of respect. She was both and he was a highly capable asset; it could be said that they were actually friends, whatever might have transpired in the past.
Those two were the ones she took to Dreshdae, knowing that there would be more than ample opportunity for both of them to get what they wanted. The local Sith had turned, to Revan's partial dismay and great disappointment, into bratty children that had no true concept of anything besides personal power; not even that, in most cases. They only wished for the power to frighten others. It was the domino effect; once the standards of the higher-ups dropped, they accepted all kinds of scum into their ranks.
Revan was more saddened than angered by this. Her plans to reform and strengthen the Republic were beginning to collapse on a single mishap that could have ended in her death. Now, the ranks of the 'Sith' soldiers were undisciplined, recruited apprentices barely mature enough to fight and worlds that would have been an asset on the long run were dead. It seemed that the only thing Malak was highly efficient at was destruction.
Her vision was crumbling and suddenly, she thought that perhaps even plucking out the source of the poison – her former friend – wouldn't help much. In the end, it would be like trying to get a perfectly good garden rid of weeds; the wretches would always return. That was always the risk of such a gamble, but… well, she resolved to keep this in mind, at least, for the moment when she would have to make some crucial and difficult decisions.
Her desire had never been power, she remembered that well enough. She had always had power in abundance, just like everything else. At times, others would comment that she had been blessed with too many good things. Too much power and skill and knowledge, which would one day have to be compensated by great misfortune or sorrow on her part. And this had proven quite true.
She had allowed the desire for goodness overcome her and thus stylized herself into the position of a protector. It was as the poet would say; society rejects two types of a person: the one who threatens it and the one who protects it. Revan would never fit in anywhere, not even when the great war that was to come would be over. Her power and intellect would always be beyond the grasp of most minds and thus she would be feared and shunned by those around her. Her choices would be understood, but likely never forgiven or celebrated.
The masses, those she claimed not to care about, would one day celebrate her and then, her so-called cruelty would outweigh the good she had done… or tried to do, in any case.
Revan wanted very little for herself from life. When she was little, she had dreamed of nothing else than to live in peace and contentment and bring that to those around her. When her powers were discovered, she considered them a joy that would help her in that. When she had first met Malak, she believed firmly that even if she was to find no other friend in her whole life, no one else worthy of her regard, she would be happy with what she had.
But no one had ever asked her what she wanted. She was a Jedi. She couldn't want anything for herself. She couldn't want anything for anyone. Those were the limitations that formed blindness. Those were the flaws that prevented them from defending the Republic when it was needed. And so Revan had begun sacrificing her hopes and desires one after the other, simply for the sake of the galaxy.
It had gained her the attention of the Sith Emperor, opened her eyes to danger and the perilious path to salvation. One that she would have to shepherd others along.
She was succeeding… and where had it left her? On the edge of space, with people who were only beginning to come to terms with her true self. She was beginning to come to terms with her year-long imprisonment of sorts herself.
Now came the question: what did she want?
If she wanted to, she supposed she could abandon the Republic at this point and have it fend for itself, if it believed it could. There were many worlds outside of known space that would gladly welcome her and her abilities. But she couldn't do that… she had sacrificed far too much for the flawed masterpiece that was the galaxy to leave it now. However, it would be necessary eventually… she knew. She would be forced to leave and seek out this unknown threat herself before she could find out how to effectively fight it.
After one look at the city of Dreshdae and the Academy, Revan changed their initial plans. She refused to belittle herself by competing with these brats. It would have made some strategic sense, yes, but she had belittled herself quite enough over the last few months. Instead, much to the horror of the 'light side' of her entourage, Revan proceeded to unpack some of the things they had carried out of the Sith Embassy on Manaan to sell in the future and managed to locate the robes of a Dark Jedi Master. Even more horrible than the sight of her in such attire was the fact that it worked brilliantly and quickly.
The difficult part came when Carth somehow managed to find his son amongst the Sith recruits. It was the quickest way their cover could be blown ever devised and so Revan, as a sign of good faith, 'rescued' the boy from the ways of the Sith. He was very young, really… but he couldn't be seven years younger than her. The real reason why she sent him away was actually the fact that he reminded her too much of herself or Malak at the start of the first war.
So young… so naïve and ignorant of what they would be facing…
And when father and son were reconciled and promised each other that they would see each other again very soon, Revan understood what she had always wanted and never would have. A place where she would belong. Someone who would see her and all her choices… and take her as she was, not as anything anyone else might have constructed.
Because once there had lived a young Jedi under a different name, one that would one day become Revan… and that Jedi had peace. Now and in the future, there wouldn't be anyone who would remember her actual name and she accepted that. The Revanchist, after all, was a figure that could easily eclipse anything and anyone. She no longer had a claim on that name or that past, she supposed. Forever would she be Revan, who never belonged, never had peace, never rested.
And what Revan yearned for most of all was what she had sacrificed.