Saul Karath smirked at his captives as he paced before the force cages holding them. Bastila Shan, the redoubtable Revan himself, and that upstart Carth Onasi! His chest swelled with self-satisfaction. Doubtless the Dark Lord would be most satisfied. If he was very clever, he might even be able to get himself a promotion out of this - Grand Admiral Saul Karath...! The syllables rolled comfortably off his tongue as he spoke the coveted title to himself. Grand Admiral - now that was something he could get used to. Wonder if it came with a raise?
Carth Onasi glared daggers at his former mentor. Puffed-up, despicable, traitorous son of a kath hound...! His spleen found vent in a barrage of classic Telosian expletives, which he hurled at the Sith officer with an enthusiasm that surprised both his fellow captives. The Admiral stopped pacing and returned his former pupil's vitriol with a cold, calculating stare.
"Such language, Lieutenant! Hardly befitting the civilised."
"Then it should suit you admirably!" snarled Carth.
The Sith officer made a show of casually examining his fingernails. "Still sore about Telos, Onasi? That was ages ago."
Carth struggled to his feet with a roar of rage. "Telos was my home! And it is now the grave of my wife and son - damn karking right I'm sore!" The force field confining Carth buzzed menacingly as he came too close to touching it. Mindful once again of his circumstances, Carth stepped back from the wall of buzzing electricity and stood in the centre of the cage, his hands clenching and unclenching in agitation.
"Oh dear." Admiral Karath's tone was deceptively placid. "And so you wish you had died with them. Well, old friend. That can always be arranged."
"Why, you karked-up kr-"
Bastila interjected. "Calm yourself, Lieutenant. This man isn't worth your breath." She was sitting calmly in a force cage to the left of Carth's, and appeared to have been meditating.
Admiral Karath resumed his leisurely stroll around the force cages. "Bastila Shan. Child prodigy of the Jedi Order. I wonder - is it only your vaunted Battle Meditation that interests the Dark Lord?"
He stopped outside Bastila's cage and leered at the girl held captive inside it. She was clad only in her undergarments: the Sith customarily stripped their prisoners of most of their clothing, having learnt that humiliation and shame were powerful tools in breaking even the strongest will. Bastila averted her eyes, refusing to meet the Sith officer's gaze. Admiral Karath smirked and resumed pacing.
"Perhaps he intends for you to... satisfy him in other ways as well." The Sith officer stopped again, this time outside the former Republic soldier's cage, his face wrinkling into a nasty smile. "Ah, the courting swain. There's no point denying it, you know. My troopers tell me everything - whether they wish to, or not. I know what they saw when they found you. Tell me -" Stooping so that his face was level with the Jedi's, the Sith officer dropped his voice to a whisper. "- how do you feel about sharing?"
The Jedi could feel the muscles in his jaw tightening. Instinct urged him to let fly as Carth had done, something - anything! - that might insult, annoy or hurt, if that were possible, the grinning fiend in officer's clothes who now whispered the basest insinuations into his ear. Something else - his better sense - told him that giving vent to his frustration and anger was precisely the reaction Admiral Karath was looking for. He decided to deny the Sith officer this pleasure.
Angered at his failure to elicit a response from the Jedi, Admiral Karath tried a different tack. "Where is the Jedi Enclave?"
Three pairs of eyes stared in different directions. Nobody answered. The Sith officer reached for a lever and rested a thin, white hand on it. "Uncooperative. How dreadful." He depressed the lever. Thin bolts of electricity leapt inwards from the electrical barrier on each force cage, earthing themselves through their respective occupants. Carth gritted his teeth, refusing to acknowledge the pain. The two Jedi did likewise.
"Again. Where is the Jedi Enclave?"
Bastila's voice was admirably devoid of sentiment. "You are wasting your time. We will not tell you."
Admiral Karath raised a bushy eyebrow. "Indeed, Miss Shan. You are right. I am going about my interrogation the wrong way." Stepping aside, the Admiral removed the security hatch on a console by the wall, flipped two switches on it and fiddled with a dial. Then he returned to the lever and splayed his spidery fingers over it.
"Again I ask: Where is the Jedi Enclave?"
Carth spat at his former mentor. His saliva hit the electrical barrier and caused it to spark menacingly. "Kark yourself, you bastard! Go on! Pull the lever! I'll die before I betray the Republic."
The Sith officer made a great show of rolling his eyes at this. "Oh, come now, Lieutenant. It isn't you I'm asking." He looked significantly at the former Republic soldier. "Where is the Jedi Enclave?"
The Jedi looked up. "Don't know."
"Wrong answer." Admiral Karath depressed the lever. Reflexively, Carth and the Jedi gritted their teeth, readying themselves for the agony of electrical torture - but it never came. Bastila, however, shrieked in agony from the thicker bolts of electricity that had jumped off the cage barrier onto her. The Jedi instantly comprehended the new method of interrogation that the Admiral's sick mind had devised. For every uncooperative answer, Bastila would be tortured. And he would be forced to watch, helpless to intervene. Alarmed and disgusted, the Jedi told the Sith officer exactly what he thought.
"You're one sick puppy, Saul!"
"Indeed? Who is sicker - the one who asks the questions, or the one who refuses to save?" Admiral Karath smiled lopsidedly, and depressed the lever once more: Bastila screamed even louder.
Her screams were painful enough on their own without the amplification of a sense of her terror being transmitted to him through their bond. A multitude of thoughts, urges, desires, temptations ran amok within the Jedi's mind as he struggled to maintain his composure. It would be so easy - just one name, one planet - and he could save her, here and now. But at what price? The lives of many, for the life of one... even one as precious as Bastila - no, it was impossible to justify. He thought he heard Carth shouting in the background of the clamouring thoughts. Alderaan?
"Shut up, Onasi! What do you know - Alderaan's not the place, though I'd have liked to have blown it up as well..." Admiral Karath hissed at his former pupil, and depressed the lever a third time. Bastila's screams degenerated into desperate howls.
"Tell - tell... him - the pain - I ..." she gasped.
"Princess, I'm sorry. I don't want you to suffer - but this monster will destroy everyone, everything we've loved or stood for, if we tell him." The Jedi shook his head sadly as Admiral Karath depressed the lever a fourth time.
Through Bastila's heartwrenching cries, an idea rose up in the deepest recesses of the Jedi's mind: Saul Karath knows where the Enclave is. And he's destroyed it already. Bastila's screams continued unabated, and it was with the greatest difficulty that the Jedi turned a deaf ear to them in order to concentrate more fully on what his mind was telling him. He tried to think. What did Saul just say? The Jedi shook his head, trying to focus...
It seemed like an eternity to Bastila before the electricity cut and the pain receded, though in reality it had been only a few seconds. Cruel and sadistic though he was, Admiral Karath was nonetheless beholden to, and too much in awe of, Darth Malak to 'tamper' with his Lord's precious acquisition in any way. He would have liked to have turned up the voltage by a few more notches, but doing so would scar the girl permanently - or worse, maim or kill her - and that he dared not do. But Revan? A different story. Admiral Karath reset the power switches and returned to his place by the lever.
"Well?" he demanded.
The Jedi looked up, triumph in his eyes. "It won't matter whether or not we tell you, Saul. You already know where the Enclave is, and you've laid it waste. I've heard your master was once a Jedi: if so, he would have known where the Enclave was. You lose, Admiral."
Foiled! A large vein started throbbing in Admiral Karath's temple. How dare this upstart laugh at him! Oh, but he would have his revenge. Snarling, the Sith officer depressed the lever once more. The Jedi yelped once, and collapsed to the floor of his cage, unconscious and twitching from the current that ran through his body.
"Is he all right? Can you see?"
"Uh...I think he - he's got some... a few... burns, Bastila... his arms."
"Can he hear us?"
The Jedi drifted in and out of consciousness, vaguely registering that people seemed to be talking about and above him. He wasn't sure where he was. His arms felt as if parts of them had been seared with an iron: his legs didn't feel much better.
In his moments of unconsciousness he thought he dreamt things - really odd things - a bald man dressed entirely in red with impressive cranial tattoos and a roguish smirk, the same man with a full head of hair, dead Cathar floating in the water, only they weren't really there; the bald man again... the Enclave?... Masters... lots of Masters... or were they Jedi? Maybe just ordinary Jedi... following... him? And he was talking - only he didn't know what he was actually saying, only that he seemed to be a great speaker who enjoyed massive popularity - man, this was some trippy dream...
Someone was calling his name. The Jedi stirred. Cold. Hard. Floor? He tried to sit up. Ouch! And... and... goodness, why was it so bright?
"Where - where..." His voice sounded weak and alien to him.
Soft, yet strong arms were about him now, helping him sit up slowly. Like a blind man, he clutched at the arms and felt his way up them - shoulders - neck, ears... hair... braids in hair -
"Princess...?" The arms about him tightened, and he could feel her nodding in response.
"Yes, yes - it's me, Bastila -" Bastila found herself choking back tears. Revan was all right! Disoriented and injured, but otherwise all right. Thankfulness and relief welled up in her heart.
"'ere. Lemme have a look at 'im." The voice was low and gruff, but unmistakably gentle. Jolee. The Jedi grinned and turned his head to face the source of the voice.
"How you doin', old man?" croaked the Jedi weakly.
"Holy Force, son - what'd you make 'em do to you?" Another set of hands - rough, calloused ones this time - were touching his arms at intervals. The Jedi winced as Jolee ran his fingers over the electrical burns. Jolee muttered to himself, then shut his eyes and drew on the Force.
Dizzy and still unused to the light, the Jedi cocked his head this way and that, trying to focus on what he took to be the shape of the most important person in his vicinity - Bastila. "How come you look like Carth?"
'Bastila' loomed more sharply into focus. "Because I damn well ain't the Princess, buddy. Glad to see you've still got your wits about you." Carth grinned amusedly as Bastila knelt beside their colleague, propping him up on her own body.
Woozily, the Jedi registered that the Princess - this was very definitely Bastila! - was so very soft and... cushiony. Especially the bits of her that his head was resting on - a fact which he promptly apprised Bastila of.
"Someone shut the kid up so I can heal him proper," groused Jolee.
Carth picked up a pitcher of liquid that had been left standing, sniffed its contents and emptied the lot over the Jedi's head. The shock of having ice-cold water poured over him cut through the foggy layers of confusion like a lightsaber through durasteel. The Jedi wiped his face on the back of a hand.
"Thanks, man." He looked about, and recent events recalled themselves to him. "By the Force - Jolee - Dantooine! The Sith have destroyed Dantooine...! And Darth Malak! He must be coming here. We don't have much time!"
The old Jedi finished healing the last of the burns, and stood. "Good thing you're an early riser, huh? Come on. We got work to do." Carth chucked some crumpled clothes at the Jedi. Jolee continued his narration as his patient dressed.
"Juhani and Canderous have managed to jailbreak themselves. They got Mission out, and Zaalbar too. Mission's done pretty damn good: she sliced the systems, set static images in all the cameras, and took those nasty war droids offline. Zaalbar smashed in a couple of skulls, not that anyone's counting... Canderous has rigged up a couple of mines by the main barracks area, so that should cover us some... and I done cleared us a path to the Ebon Hawk. All we need now is to get to the bridge, and unlock the bay doors. "
"Fantastic! We can take it from here," said Carth. "I've got a piece of my mind to give that assho - Admiral Karath." He stuffed a few more blaster clips into his ammo pouch.
Bastila paused at the entrance to the detention facility. "Are you - Jolee, do you think he's - "
Jolee nodded. "He'll be all right. Patched him up good, didn't I?" The old Jedi gave his friends the thumbs-up and disappeared round a corner.
"Admiral." Even as a holoprojection, Darth Malak still cut an imposing figure. Admiral Saul Karath shrank into himself almost reflexively as he bowed before the holograph of his master.
"It is done, my Lord. The young Jedi Bastila Shan has been captured, as you directed. Her companions have also been captured, along with their ship. I have interro-"
The Dark Lord cut Admiral Karath off angrily. "A waste of time, Admiral! You would have done well to have informed me of their capture earlier." The holograph flickered momentarily, as if mirroring the displeasure of Darth Malak, Dark Lord of the Sith. Admiral Karath berated himself for having taken such an amateurish approach to buttering up his master, and tried again.
"There is something you must know, my Lord," he began. "Your... former master. He - "
"What of him?" snarled Darth Malak.
"Why, my Lord - he - he is a fool...! He truly does not know who he is, and -"
"Revan was no fool, Admiral," warned Darth Malak. "You would do well not to underestimate him."
"My Lord, I assure you your time will not be wasted," pleaded the Sith officer. "He has... developed an... affection, I believe, for the young woman. It would appear she returns the sentiment."
One parsec away, Darth Malak's eyes widened in surprise. Revan? Affection? For a woman? How... very curious. For one brief moment, the memory of a face almost forgotten and from another life passed in remembrance before his eyes. Alek had cared for someone, too. Once. An Arkanian Offshoot. She had rejected him. Deep within the persona of Darth Malak, the Jedi - the man - once known as Alek Squinquargesimus sighed painfully at the recollection, and whispered a word of wistful longing. Darth Malak sneered - affection? Such effete weakness! - and banished all thought of Alek. Arkanian Offshoots, and the past; willing ire, resentment and a suffocating hatred to take its place.
So Revan had found someone to love. And that someone had chosen to love Revan back. Alek had always watched as Revan did things he never could - now Malak would even the score. Revan thought he knew Bastila - but she had been instrumental in his renovation. Malak would open his eyes. Revan was content being who he now thought he was: Malak would take that contentment away. Revan had deprived Malak of his jaw - now Malak would gouge out Revan's heart.
The dark thoughts filled Darth Malak with an unholy glee. "Admiral."
"...my Lord?"
"I return." The holographic projection grew fuzzy and then cut completely.
As Admiral Karath stared at the blank holoprojector debating the outcome of this latest interview, the security doors to the bridge blew open with a mind-mumbing explosion. The Sith grenadier nearest him whipped around and started lobbing grenades indiscriminately, while the junior bridge commander sprinted to the internal communications console and yelled something unintelligible into the receiver. Smoke from exploding ordnance filled the bridge with an acrid vapour, which Admiral Karath instantly recognised as poison gas. Holding his breath, he strode quickly over to where the junior bridge commander was in the process of securing a gas mask over his face, assaulted the young man savagely and ripped the mask away from him.
Only the fittest deserve to live, Admiral Karath reminded himself as he donned the life-saving equipment. The junior officer clearly failed to make the grade. As the smoke dissipated, figures could be made out in the near distance, accompanied by shouts and the din of blaster fire. Admiral Karath gripped his ceremonial sword and narrowed his eyes.
A gas-masked figure strode confidently through the swirling gas, the very image of an avenging spirit.
"Saul Karath," spat the figure.
"Carth Onasi," acknowledged the Sith officer as he drew his sword. "Come for your revenge at last?"
"Revenge? Yes. And more! I want justice, Saul! Justice -" Carth advanced on his former mentor, blasters trained and at the ready. "I want you to suffer just as my wife suffered! I want you to die painfully, just as my poor boy died." Admiral Karath's free hand twitched towards his side - a movement Carth instantly recognised. He countered by shooting Saul Karath in the hand. The Sith officer hollered and lost his footing, dropping his sword as he cradled the bleeding stump.
Carth stopped advancing, and kicked his former mentor's sword back towards its owner. He roared at the downed man. "Pick up your sword, Saul!"
The Sith officer smirked. "How very... decent! Won't kill an unarmed foe?" Admiral Karath's good hand strayed to the side of his belt, and unclipped a small disruptor pistol. Feigning agony, Admiral Karath keeled forwards and moaned, his voice drowning out the telltale click as he primed the weapon to discharge fully in a single shot. Fool...! He would not get a second chance. With the speed of a coiled viper, Admiral Karath drew the pistol and shot Carth Onasi in the heart... or would have, had the bright violet blade of the Jedi's lightsaber not appeared from nowhere, deflecting the shot...
Admiral Karath screamed as the deflected charge buried itself in his abdomen, disintegrating flesh and tissue, leaving a gaping wound in its wake. Blood began to pool around him. He knew his time was running out... but he would have the last laugh. Admiral Karath beckoned to his former pupil, his eyes fixed on the amnesiac Revan, who stared warily back.
"Carth... ha ha ha... Carth - there is something you must know..."
The Republic officer bent over his former mentor as the dying man whispered into his ear, before finally expiring with a last choked, malicious laugh.
"The bay doors are unsecured - come!" called Bastila to her companions. The Jedi deactivated his weapons and patted his former colleague amiably on the shoulder.
"Don't. Touch. Me!" snarled the Republic officer. He crossed the bridge floor swiftly and accosted Bastila, grabbing her by the arm and jerking her roughly aside.
"Is it true?" Carth demanded, his eyes wild.
True? What in the five hells was - Bastila's gaze flickered to the still body of Admiral Karath in its sorry pool of blood - Revan, staring confusedly at Carth - Carth, almost frothing at the mouth with anger - truth...? Oh, Force...! "Not now, Carth -" she stuttered frantically. "Not now!"
Carth ignored her protestations. "No! Now! Tell me now! It's true, isn't it!? You knew! All the time!" He shook Bastila roughly. Alarmed at his friend's strange behaviour, the Jedi moved to intervene but Bastila gestured at him to stop.
"I promise I will explain everything later," said Bastila hurriedly. "But now we must get out of this place!"
Reason reasserted itself, and Carth acknowledged its demand with a growl. "Fine. We'll do this your way, Jedi. You owe me." He released Bastila and strode out the door, angrily kicking a Sith corpse in the groin as he went.
Darth Malak paced impatiently in the midst of the maze of rooms leading to the hangar where the Ebon Hawk waited. He was in a fouler mood than usual: the Leviathan was a complete shambles. The dead and dying or otherwise incapacitated littered its corridors. Obviously, the captives were on the loose. How that fool Karath had imagined that he would be able to hold four determined Jedi - Revan amongst them! - against their volition quite escaped him.
They would come this way, Darth Malak told himself. He had been clever - he had locked doors strategically so that the escapees would have no alternative but to funnel through this maze of rooms: they did not know the Leviathan as he did - and this would give him the advantage. If they could be separated...
A familiar presence in the Force manifested itself. The Dark Lord's eyes narrowed in a sly smile as footsteps emerged at the edge of hearing and grew steadily louder. Finally, the blast doors opened, and the three fugitives found themselves face to face with Darth Malak.
"Down you go!" shouted Carth, blasters blazing. Darth Malak deflected the shots with practised ease before placing the Republic officer under stasis with the Force. With Carth out of the way, he shifted his attention to Bastila and her companion. Revan! He looked very much like his old self, apart from the additional padding and somewhat messier hair. He'd also lost the stupid goatee.
"At last, we meet again," Darth Malak said.
"Step aside, Malak," replied the Jedi warningly.
The Dark Lord could not help but laugh. Step aside? Or what? Revan had always been funny, but this? This was rich...! "Ha ha ha...! I see there is more of your old self in you than I imagined, Revan."
The Jedi wrinkled his brow as he tried to make sense of Darth Malak's strange talk. Revan? If this was a distraction tactic, it was certainly a novel one. "What are you talking about?" he demanded.
Darth Malak fairly goggled. "You really don't know? Ah - ha ha ha...! So it is true...! You! You are Revan. Do you honestly believe that you were only ever a pathetic Republic grunt? Is that what the Council told you?"
Wrinkling his brows further, the Jedi stared at Darth Malak suspiciously. Council? He was Revan? Evidently the Dark Side had made the Malak chap plain barmy.
"You're totally nuts, Malak. I'm me, and I'm no Darth Revan. Otherwise I'd have known. Savvy?"
The Sith Lord nearly cracked a rib laughing. "Revan, Revan, Revan. For once you are out of the loop. This... identity you have. This... Republic soldier-boy thing. It isn't true. None of it is. Surely - surely some memories of what you once were, what you did, where you went - surely some of those must have returned to you? Think, Revan. Dreams! Visions, perhaps?"
Dreams! Visions! Holy crap - that last crazy series of dreams he'd had while out on the blink after Admiral Karath's 'interview' - the bald man dressed in red... Malak! What was Malak doing in his dreams! The Jedi stared at the tattoos covering the Dark Lord's head, which mirrored those he had seen in his dream exactly.
The Dark Lord of the Sith continued talking. "We found the first of the Star Maps on Dantooine, Revan. Remember? How you paced to and fro before the final chamber... knowing we could never return to the Order were we to pass through those portals..."
Memories of the vision he had experienced on Dantooine surfaced. The Jedi's heart skipped a beat.
"...and I am certain you must remember how I betrayed you, when the Jedi attacked and I fired on your ship..."
Force. The first vision he had had - on the Endar Spire, above Telos - it couldn't be - Malak had to be reading his thoughts! It must be a tactic - the Jedi looked pleadingly at Bastila for confirmation. "Say it isn't so," he whispered.
Bastila suddenly felt very, very cold. The moment of reckoning had come, from which there was no return. "R- Revan... it is true, every word. I... I wanted so much to tell you, but I could not - please believe me, I - we - we had no choice - "
"It... is?" croaked the Jedi hoarsely. Darth Malak watched the interplay with considerable interest, taking a perverse pleasure in watching his former friend's world come crashing down about his ears.
"Forgive me, Revan - forgive me...!" cried Bastila. "Yes, I was sent to end you - but I did not know if I would succeed. The bridge - it exploded suddenly, killing everyone there except you and I... and I found you amidst the wreckage, barely alive... and I could not kill you. I could not!"
The Jedi's voice was failing him. "You saved me?" he whispered.
Nodding frantically, Bastila continued. "Yes - but I could not save your knowledge of yourself - you were too badly injured, Revan... it was touch and go... and then, the Masters - the Masters, they learnt of it, and it was decided that Darth Revan would be laid to rest, and a new identity created for you..."
"The Masters what... reprogrammed me? Like... a droid?"
"Exactly like a droid, Revan," commented Darth Malak. "That is all you were - all you are - to them. Expendable! A tool to be used and then cast aside. Surely you see it now, Revan? All this... posturing. All this talk of mercy and justice and compassion - fat lot of words and hot air!"
"That is not true!" objected Bastila fervently, beginning her pleas afresh. "Revan - Revan, please listen to me just this once - we never wanted to hurt you...! A new identity, yes - but tamper with your freedom of choice? Never...! I wish we did not have to do what we did... but the situation was so desperate, what alternative did we have? The galaxy was burning - "
Revan's mind reeled in shock. The various visions, dreams... odd thoughts and what had seemed at the time to have been strange fantasies but were in reality suppressed memories resurfacing, remarks and cryptic observations made by Master Vrook... Bastila's numerous cautions and warnings... the unaccountable level of interest displayed in him by Dark Jedi from one end of the galaxy to another - all of it swam together in a wild pastiche of past and present - all of it unpleasant, and upsetting in the extreme. Anger at the Masters, at the Order... at Bastila, for their duplicity, connivance and manipulation welled up within him...
...until he plunged mercilessly into her mind, exploiting their Force bond, expecting defensive walls to be thrown up as they ever had been - and met no resistance. No deception. No satisfaction at giving a notorious Sith Lord his well-deserved 'comeuppance', no hatred, no ill-will...
Only a vast ocean of truth mingled with deep regret, sorrow, longing, fear, empathy, and... love.
Love.
Revan withdrew from Bastila's mind. There would be time to sort out all the knots later, but he now saw the path he must take clearly. Darth Malak noticed the telltale glint in his former friend's eyes which bespoke a firm resolution, and raised an eyebrow in an unspoken query.
"The answer is no, Malak. Not now, not ever. Those days are behind me."
Roaring like a maddened animal, Darth Malak threw Bastila into stasis, ignited his lightsaber and attacked Revan. Both men were soon locked in a deadly duel which took them through the maze of rooms. Bastila poured every bit of her being into fighting off the Force-induced stasis. She would have preferred to use her Battle Meditation to aid Revan, but this was neither the time nor the place. It took considerable effort and determination, but she finally succeeded in throwing off the stasis she had been under, just as Carth fell to the ground in an ungainly heap.
Racing through the warren of rooms, twisting this way and that, Bastila and Carth finally came upon the combatants - still at it, though Darth Malak was clearly losing ground - in the penultimate chamber to the hangar.
Getting Revan to safety was all Bastila could think of. Before Carth could draw his blasters, she had dashed into the fray, her double-bladed lightsaber a dizzying blur of glorious yellow. "For the Jedi!" she cried, Force-pushing Revan out of the chamber in which he and Malak were fighting.
Revan scrambled to his feet, shouting Bastila's name, but it was too late. The blast door slammed shut. It was sealed from within, and there was no way he could open it - even with his lightsaber. "Bastila!"
Carth was tugging urgently at his sleeve. Revan looked dumbly at Carth, then back at the blast door separating him from his beloved Bastila, and back at Carth again. The man's mouth was moving, but the words seemed to be coming from so very far away...
In frustration, Carth smacked Revan on either side of the face to get his attention. "She's sacrificed herself for you, you dolt! Now make the most of it and get!" The Republic officer pulled Revan away from the scene and shoved him roughly into the elevator for their ride up to the hangar.
Their mad rush to the Ebon Hawk was largely unopposed, and their getaway mercifully uneventful.
As soon as the Ebon Hawk had jumped to hyperspace, Carth Onasi grabbed Revan by the collar and half-dragged, half-pushed him into the astrochart generator room, where the remaining crew members had gathered. Thrusting Revan roughly into the centre of the group, the Republic officer spat angry words at him.
"Tell them!"
Juhani caught Revan as he stumbled forwards. She hissed at Carth. "What is wrong with you? Are you gone mad?"
"Mad? No. I've gone sane, that's what -" Carth pulled a blaster and pressed it to the back of Revan's head. "Tell them, you freak - or I will!"
The Force push hit Carth harder than Juhani had intended for it to, knocking the Republic officer backwards into a wall and sending his blaster skittering across the floor. Zaalbar picked up the weapon and trained it on Carth.
Jolee jumped to stand between Zaalbar and his mark. "Whoa, whoa - everybody calm down - HK, stay out of this! - put that weapon away, Zaalbar -" the old Jedi nodded at Mission, who hurried to relieve her Wookiee friend and Carth Onasi of their weapons. Canderous grunted and put his combat knife away.
Satisfied that the more immediately volatile parties were unarmed, Jolee addressed Revan, who was staring blankly into the astrochart. "Spit it out, son."
The distant look in Revan's eyes receded as he took in the expectant faces of his fellow adventurers. "I'm... Revan," he said softly.
Juhani's ears twitched. Revan? The galaxy had gone mad! She pounced on her dazed friend and shook him roughly. "Wake up! This is some Sith trick. They have addled with your mind!"
A hollow laugh came from the corner where Carth sat, slumped against a wall. "No Sith trick, Juhani. He's the real deal! Saul Karath, Darth Malak - they recognised him. Bastila! She knew, too - I was there, I heard it all..."
HK-47 whirred. "Anticipation: Master, is it true? Are you Revan?"
Revan nodded. "Unfortunately so, HK."
"Pleasant surprise: Oh, Master! This is a most serendipitous occurrence! I - my servos -" The droid's processor lights brightened significantly as its cores reset themselves with a shrill beep.
"Elation: It is good to see you again, my Master. How I have missed you! You are much changed, Master. This is most distressing! Perhaps I can cheer you up by killing something for you?"
Mission cocked her head to the side. "HK - are you saying you know - knew - Revan?"
"Answer: Evidently, meatbag. My Master is also my creator. All hail the Dark L-"
Revan cut HK-47 off abruptly. "Creator! Me? As in - I built you...?" HK-47 made an affirmative reply. Revan groaned. So he was the absolute sociopath responsible for this maniac's creation! His headache grew steadily worse. "Grife...!"
The verbal and emotional outpouring which followed HK-47's identification of his original Master bordered on incoherence.
Canderous literally fell to his knees in worshipful adoration, pledging his service to the man who had so thoroughly humbled his people. "There is no greater honour for me now than to serve at the feet of the greatest warrior Mandalorians have ever faced," he gushed, while Juhani staggered backwards, laughed strangely and pointed, all the while talking of disjointed episodes of her history - Telos, her family... the destruction suffered by the Cathar, the Jedi she had seen, the Jedi - one Jedi! - she had heard... how she had been inspired to put her gifts to use... the Order, joining the Order...
...Carth shouting imprecations that nobody seemed to hear or heed save Mission, who met each of Carth's paranoid accusations with shrill proclamations of Revan's - the new Revan's - innocence, declaring that the new man could not be judged by the actions of the old - T3-M4 beeping frantically as the little astromech droid tried to get someone - anyone! - to pay attention to it because it wanted to know what was going on, HK-47 exultant and singing the praises of Darth Revan...
...Jolee shouting at everyone to shut the hell up and let Revan talk, because Force knew how difficult all this must be for Revan, a lesser man would have gone spare from the revelation, and shouldn't they all be thankful that he was being square with them... and above the general ruckus, Zaalbar roaring a reaffirmation of his life-debt.
Revan didn't know if he would die from the combined shock and noise - or if he would go crazy - or, worse, be driven back to the Dark Side. He didn't want to wait to find out. So he did the only thing any man in his situation would have done: he thumped the astrochart generator vigourously and hollered.
"Shut up! Shut up! All of you! Do you have any idea - any idea, at all - what this is? To me?" He pounded the generator once more, for good measure.
"My life has just been ripped into two! I don't even know what to think anymore! And none of you is making it easier! I didn't ask to be Darth Revan... Revan - whoever - I don't even know him! I thought I was just me - plain old me, Republic soldier... Jedi... another nameless face - but now I don't know if anything that I think I do know is worth knowing...! And Bastila... my Bastila - she's been taken, and Force knows what will happen to her -" he broke off, unable to continue.
Breaking away from the rest of the assembly, Jolee approached the former Sith Lord. He put a sympathetic arm around the grieving man and backed out of the room with him, motioning to the rest of the crew not to follow.
Carth was waiting at the pantry the following morning. He pushed a mug of hot tea towards Revan as the latter shuffled through the door.
"I'm sorry," said the Republic officer gruffly. "I've been a right ass."
Revan sat down heavily and stared at the tea. Bastila loved tea, he thought, the remembrance of her near-addiction lifting the corners of his mouth temporarily. Then he remembered where she wasn't - and sighed painfully. Carth nudged the mug of tea a little closer and hovered about uncertainly.
"Look, I... I'm no good at apologies and talk, man. Not like some folk... always know what to say..." began Carth. "But I did some thinking... we all did... and I feel terrible... for you, man. All of us do." The Republic officer sat down across from Revan and nudged the mug of tea a little closer. "Drink up. Do you a world of good."
Blinking as the swirls of steam tickled his eyelashes, Revan raised the mug to his lips. Carth took this as a sign of encouragement to talk more, and continued.
"I... don't know how you can even stand, actually," the Republic officer confessed. "If I were in your shoes - man...! Would've spaced myself in an instant."
"Hnnh," grunted Revan. "The idea had occurred..." He smiled briefly and shook his head. "...but then the Princess would never forgive me."
Carth looked over the rim of his mug as he took in a mouthful of tea. "Yeah. She'd haul your ass back to the Council - if there's still one - and demand that they mind-wipe you into something more compliant. Like... a cabbage."
Revan grunted again. "Hnnh...! How'd you find out about the cabbage thing?"
"You talk in your sleep, genius."
Revan laughed in spite of himself. "Crap - what else have I said?"
The Republic officer poured himself a fresh mug of tea and inhaled its vapour. "Enough."
"Eh?"
"Enough for every man on this ship to know that you're a goner where the Princess is concerned, that you can't abide spiders, and that your dreams include mathematical equations."
"Good heavens."
"Mission's a very astute kid. I reckon that when all this is over, we should really look at getting her into a proper school. She said - " Carth stretched his legs out along the length of the bench " - she said that people speak from the abundance of what's in their hearts - something like that - and by golly, the kid's right. You haven't been Darth Revan, buddy. You've been... you. Revan was a good man, you know. Real solid chap. Jolee said so."
"Jolee?"
Carth stirred his tea thoughtfully. "Yeah. Seems like Mr Senility there'd guessed who you were, way back on Kashyyyk. That's why he tagged along. Wanted to see what you'd do with the second chance you'd been given."
Revan nodded. "I see."
The Republic officer leant across the table. "Are you angry?" he asked. Revan shook his head.
"I did some thinking too," he admitted.
"And?"
"You're all being very decent about this - about me being, well, me. Grife...! And... and I'm grateful for that. Heck - I'm actually even grateful to the kooks on the Council who came up with the bloody nerfbrained scheme to start with...!"
Carth laughed at the unflattering description of the Jedi Masters. "Yeah?"
"Huge risk, man. Bastila was right. They hid my past from me, cooked up an alternate life... but apart from enlisting me in the Republic army and taking me back into the Order, every step on the way has been one of my own making. My choice. I guess you could say that they... gave the old Revan his life back, free from the monster of his own creation." Revan finished his tea and pushed the mug over to Carth for a refill. "Maybe that's what kept Bastila from killing me, huh? Maybe she looked inside the monster - and saw something that could be saved. Me."
Carth pushed the refilled mug back across the table. "Point."
There was a new earnestness in Revan's voice. "That's why I've got to save her back, Carth. Her - and the galaxy for which I once stupidly chose to fall in order to 'protect'. If I hadn't made that hubristic choice, all this needn't have happened."
The two men clinked their mugs solemnly as the Ebon Hawk hurtled through hyperspace, nearer, nearer to Korriban.