CHAPTER 11 – Yes

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The next few days I was left entirely to my cell. I'm not sure why, but I suspect Revan was letting me stew in my thoughts. Or maybe he was trying to get me to come to him, to come out of my cell of my own volition, rather than him constantly pursuing me. No matter the reason, I knew he was very much preoccupied with planning his next offensive against the Republic. Now that I had the collar off, I could feel the warning in the Force—a sense of urgency. The lull in his advancement on the core worlds would not last much longer.

We dropped from hyperspace two days after our last conversation. I could sense his amassed fleet outside the ship, like orbs of energy circling about. And some planet he had taken. The life forms there shone more as a torch with its batteries running low on charge. Such was the oppression of the Sith on the planet's citizens. For several days the fleet did not move from this location.

I could now sense Revan's impatience, even from a distance. Indeed, he had made a very small Force bond with me, and I could at last sense it with the collar removed. While I could not outright read his mind, I could sense some emotion from him. Or rather, it felt like a tension in the back of my mind. And it was not my own tension, but that of a foreign presence. It was Revan's. And he tensed more with each day as he prepared to plunge into what would likely be the final leg of his campaign. With that growing tension—that apprehension—came his growing impatience, directed squarely towards me. He was waiting for a decision. I could almost feel him staring daggers into me, even though he was nowhere near my cell. He needed my Battle Meditation more than he let on. He would not advance his fleet until he had it. No matter the size of his fleet, he knew it was a gamble to invade the core of the Republic's strength without a clear advantage. Rather than draw out the war longer to safely create a more advantageous position for himself, he wanted to give the Republic one swift blow, with me as his hammer.

I decided to play his little game of chicken. I wanted to stretch out his apprehension, his tension. That way, when I at last released the tension with my feigned gift of loyalty, the taste of a victory hard-won might be sweet in his mouth, and believable. It was a dangerous game to play. I knew I could not stretch the tension for too long, or else risk incurring his wrath. And his wrath was something I always sensed once the collar was removed. It wasn't necessarily directed at any one person, but it lay buried deep within him at all times, waiting like a predator to devour anyone who incurred it. It was ever seeking its next victim, and I did not wish that next victim to be me.

So the day came when I felt I dare not wait any longer. I ceased my pacing in my cell, and slammed my fist against the door in a knock to get the guards' attention.

The door slid open, five heavily armed guards silently pointing their guns at me. (Yes, Revan had increased the number of guards since my collar had been removed. There were even more guards at the entrance to the prison block.)

"Take me to Revan," I said. "I wish to speak with him."

Surprisingly, the guards acquiesced without so much as a word, as though they were already under orders to do as I asked. I suppose I shouldn't have been so surprised. I fell in step beside them.

At last, they brought me to an imposing door, where one guard pressed a button on the door's comm. "My lord, my apologies for disturbing you. Your—your prisoner—wishes to see you."

A strained pause followed. The guard pressed the button once more. "Sir, shall we escort her back to her cell?"

Another long pause, and at last, a response. "Send her in."

The door slid open at the will of the Dark Lord behind it. The guards nudged me forward, leaving me to meet what very well could have been my doom. My apprehension rose. I knew everything was at stake. Just knowing that we shared even the smallest of bonds was enough to give me trepidation. What if he detected what I was up to? What if he saw my fear not as stemming from inner conflict or hesitancy, but from my plan to escape? I struggled to keep my heart rate under control. Yet I dared not turn to the Jedi Code for help. Surely he would have seen right through me if I appeared too serene.

The sight that first met me as I stepped inside was that of a large table that hosted a 3D projection of what I instantly recognized to be the Corellian system. A vast number of simulated ships floated ethereally on the display. The red ships I presumed were Revan's fleet, and the blue the Republic's. Hyperlane entrances were marked out. Revan stood, mask and all, brooding over the pieces as intently as he would any dejarik board.

But he was not alone in the war room. None other than Darth Malak sat near him. Various other officers were seated at the table.

Revan looked up as the door closed behind me. "Ah, Bastila. I'm so glad you could join us. Ladies and gentlemen," he said, speaking to the officers seated at the table, "I'd like for you to meet our secret weapon." All eyes turned toward me.

Revan had quite a way of putting me on the spot. His mask looked back at me knowingly, or at least so I imagined. I'm certain he was smirking at his victory. There would be very little room to wiggle out of this one. Any thoughts of turning back were vanquished then. Unless, of course, I wished to humiliate him in front of his officers and apprentice. I could only imagine the suffering he would have inflicted had I done so. I wisely held my tongue, and swallowed the pride that deeply wanted to put him in his place for his arrogance. As if my mere asking to see him were somehow the equivalent of bowing before him and pledging my loyalty. On the bright side, he certainly made the task of feigning loyalty so much easier than I had imagined. I truly did dread any act he might make me do to demonstrate my loyalty. Would he make me publicly bow and kiss his boots? Grovel? Read sappy poetry vowing my fealty? Or make a holovid of all of the above to be spread across the Republic?

But I wasn't out of the proverbial Kashyyyk trees yet. Darth Malak was none too pleased with this development.

"My lord," he said, sitting up straight in his chair, "this is your secret weapon? A girl? Can her one ability truly give us the advantage we need? To have so much depend upon her..."

"She is more than adequate for the task."

"Yes, but she's practically a child at war. How can her ability be enough?"

"It was enough to claim your fleet at Onderon, or have you forgotten?"

Malak, shamed to silence, clamped his jaw shut—though his eyes stared in fury at me.

One of the admirals spoke up. "My lord, I do not pretend to understand the Force or all that mysticism of the Jedi and Sith, but Lord Malak raises a fair point. I do not think it wise to-"

His sentence was cut off by the sound of his own gurgling. The admiral's hands desperately clung to his throat. Revan's outstretched fist only tightened further, as though he were not so much as imagining squeezing the man's neck, but rather squeezing out every last bit of hope for air the man had.

"Do you understand the Force now, Admiral Karath?" Revan said, at last loosening his fist. Admiral Karath collapsed forward on the table, sucking in air in heavy breaths.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Revan continued, beginning to pace around the table, "I realize that it is dangerous to extend ourselves so far. However, the Republic is presently unbalanced. We must take advantage. There will never be a better time to strike. If we allow them to regain their balance, they may likely drive us back out of the core, and our victory at Iridonia and its surrounding systems will have been for nothing. We would have to start over and retake everything. Much time and resources would have been wasted.

"But if we press forward now, we have everything to gain, and little to lose. Iridonia is now well-fortified. We have multiple secured routes by which to retreat should our battle at Corellia go ill. Even if we lose, Corellia would have been dealt a blow to their shipyards. The Republic cannot afford to have her production of ships even slightly affected. But just imagine if we win. Imagine the surrounding systems that would surrender without a fight. Imagine not only the blow to the Republic's morale, but to the very heart of their fleet. In mere months we could very well be at Coruscant's doorstep. It is a risk worth taking to end this war expediently."

Revan was a convincing orator. He presented facts, both risks and rewards. At the same time, he somehow managed to make the risks so worth taking. The very cadence of his words made the heart quicken and the blood pulse through one's veins. I remember well his speeches rallying against the Mandalorians. In this regard, his style hadn't changed much.

His little speech was certainly enough to get another admiral to chip in more positively. "My lord, I heartily agree," he said. "Even without any additional advantage, now is the time to press forward. Any edge that we add to it can only make our victory more certain."

"Excellent!" Revan said. "We're all agreed. Now, we have yet to receive a confirmation from our recce flights regarding the location of the Republic's reserves. Once they return, we will meet again to discuss contingencies. In the meantime, if you'll excuse me, I would like to privately brief our secret weapon on the battle ahead."

All officers rose and saluted as one. As they filed out, Malak gave me a glare I would not soon forget. Karath merely scratched his throat and hardly gave me a second glance. The door slid shut behind them, leaving me alone with Revan. He casually threw his mask off and sat down at the table that hosted the holodisplay. His smirk couldn't have been wider.

I had just about had it with holding my tongue at that point. "What in the Corellian hells makes you think I came here to offer my allegiance?" I said, crossing my arms.

"Well you'd better have a good reason to interrupt my planning if you didn't."

To that I had no answer.

Revan's smirk apparently could get wider. "I see. So then, where does that leave us?"

"I...I've been thinking."

"So I can see."

"You're going to make this difficult, aren't you?"

"Of course."

"Do you expect me to grovel or something?"

"Heavens, no!"

"What then?"

"A simple, 'yes,' will suffice."

"That's it? You're not going to have me prove my loyalty by killing somebody?"

He shook his head. "You've watched too many Exar Kun holovids. No, no such barbarism is required. Although," he said, raising an eyebrow, "I suppose after this battle is over you'll have so much of the Republic's blood on your hands that you'll practically be baptized in the dark side."

My mouth went dry at the imagery he painted.

Revan motioned to the chair on his left. "Come, sit down."

I silently obeyed.

He leaned toward me intently. "Why so much hesitancy?" he asked.

"I...I just..."

"Surely by now you can see I'm not some uncivilized mass murderer?"

"No, you're just a civilized one."

"Such is the nature of war. But I assure you everything is done with purpose. I'm not asking you to go on a killing spree with me. I'm asking you to help me put an end to this war. You have nothing to fear from the dark side. It won't turn you into a lunatic. As you can tell by now, I am perfectly sane. The dark side is simply power—power with which we can bring order and strength to the galaxy. It was power that freed you from that collar, and it is power that will free you from the restraints of the Jedi."

"What if that's not what I want?"

"Then what do you want? Do you wish to live in a monastery all your life? Meditating until you reach some mystical state of enlightenment and magically transcend into a puff of energy, never to be remembered? I offer you action. Accomplishment. Your name will forever be in the annals of history."

"As the name of a butcher?"

"No, as the name of a victor. As the name of someone who changes things for the better. The Republic is stagnant. It is collapsing under its own corruption. You have a chance to be a driving force for change."

I buried my head in my hands. If I had thought to simply feign allegiance, I was very mistaken. He was so persuasive that I almost forgot what I had come there to do. My conflict ran deeper than simply trying to hide the fact that I was still contemplating escape. The truth is, I was also contemplating joining him for real. Forgive me my confusion, Masters. The truth is, I very nearly did join him in my heart.

I felt him take my hands in his. I looked up to see him staring intently into my eyes. "Bastila," he said, "ask me anything, and I will gladly give it to you. Unto half my empire. Join me, and all I have and ever will have will be as much yours as it is mine."

"Yes," I blurted. Whether I had feigned that one simple word or meant it in my heart was something I would continually berate myself over every day for the next year. But at the time, either way, I could not help but say that word. It was the right moment, the right timing. And it was enough to convince Revan—even me—of my desire to join him.

"Very well," he said. He gave my hands a squeeze and released them. "Now, we have much to go over. Shall we?"

.:.

An hour later, Revan was walking me out of his war room. He had gone over every last detail, even every last doubt he had about all the logistics that would have to come together to make the battle a success. Amazingly enough, he even asked my input on a few things.

The guards that had escorted me earlier were still waiting outside the room when we exited.

"Am I to go back to my cell?" I asked.

"Certainly not. Come, your new quarters aren't far from here. In fact, they're very close to my own. Perhaps not your own flagship, but they'll do until we can get one for you."

Apparently there were going to be quite a few perks to joining him that originally weren't advertised in his brochure. I admit I was having difficulty hardening my resolve to escape.

Revan offered his arm. I took it, and he led me down the corridor, the guards silently falling into step behind us. Strangely enough, Revan never donned his mask. I soon realized, however, that the floor was clear of anyone but the guards and us. Apparently this section of the ship was for Revan's uses, to be cleared at his convenience.

We at last came to a door that was but thirty feet down the corridor from the entrance to his own quarters.

"Here we are," he said. He waved his hand and the door slid open.

I gingerly stepped inside. The room was more spacious and plush than anything I was used to in my own room at the Dantooine enclave.

"Do you find everything to your liking?" Revan asked, stepping in behind me.

"Yes, I suppose," I said, still stunned by the lavishness of it all.

"Well, I could upgrade your quarters, but that would involve sharing, now wouldn't it? Unless, of course, you've been seriously considering my other offer?" He smiled seductively.

"An upgrade of quarters won't be necessary," I said quickly.

"Oh well, perhaps after you've thought about it longer. If you change your mind, you know where my quarters are to find me." He shot me the most infuriating wink. I crossed my arms and frowned. "Well, until then, I'll leave you to it. If you require anything, the guards will be outside your door. I do suggest you rest while you can. I plan on resuming our training regimen tomorrow morning. Not to mention we'll have our day filled with plenty of logistics and other work."

"Wait," I said. "If I'm not to be brought back to my cell, then why the guards?"

"They're for your protection."

"Protection? Protection from what? I can take care of myself. Perhaps if you'd kindly return my lightsaber..."

"I don't think you understand, Bastila. Your Battle Meditation is far too valuable to risk. Or did you think that Alek didn't notice that you are replacing him? Do you honestly think he won't try to get to you—either to harm you or turn you? What else is to keep him from infiltrating my ship with his own Dark Jedi and simply wresting you from under my grasp?"

"And how are simple guards with stun guns supposed to protect me from Dark Jedi?"

"These are a part of my honor guard. They are Force adepts themselves. They are hand-picked and hand-trained from men and women who have served under me from the beginning. They are the only ones who ever see my face. They are the only ones I trust. They are loyal only to me. I'm sorry. While you may consider it a nuisance, it is a necessary precaution as long as your Battle Meditation is needed. Even I don't dare go far on my own ship without my honor guard nearby."

"I see. And am I free to move about the ship then while under protection?"

"No," he said.

"I am still your prisoner, then."

"You didn't honestly think I'd trust you without any proof of your loyalty, did you?" He took a few strides to close the gap between us, and forcibly took my face into his hands, his eyes boring into mine. "Understand this, Bastila. If you fail me at Corellia, I'll make you wish you were dead."

His hands held me in a vice, and I stared at him wide-eyed. I finally managed to nod my head within his grip.

"Good," he said, releasing me. "I bid you goodnight."

After he left, I lay down on my plush bed in my new plush prison cell. So much for escape.