Only the soft breaths of the two combatants broke the stark silence of the cargo hold. They faced each other, weapons held defensively as they reflected back on the flurry of blows that had passed between them. Lux's mop of hair was mussed into wet tangles, beads of sweat caught in the rat's nest he called a beard. Brianna looked similarly disheveled, her short, white hair matted against her scalp while damp clothes clung to her skin. Her cold, silver eyes watched the man before her, widening slightly as he stabbed his vibroblade forward.
She caught the deactivated blade with the middle of her staff, pushing the thrust to the side even as Lux recoiled and struck again. She blocked him for a second time, shoving his weapon violently to the ground as she spun the reverse end of her staff toward his face. He ducked under the passing weapon, crouching and pushing himself forward to slam into Brianna's chest before she could react, taking her off her feet and pinning her to the ground.
Lux prepared a witty quip to celebrate his victory, only to lose it and very nearly his tongue as a swift elbow cracked into his jaw, smashing his teeth together. Brianna was back on her feet in a second, her staff leveling out like a blunted spear to catch Lux in the gut. "That is a killing blow," she said matter-of-factly, grinning all the while.
"Oh, please. You barely touched me," Lux wheezed from his hunched over position, screaming lungs begging for air.
"I would have skewered you," she argued. "There is no shame in losing a sparring match. Better a loss to a friend than to an enemy".
"I haven't lost yet!" he exclaimed, smashing his vibroblade down on her waiting staff.
Brianna smiled and mouthed "Sore loser" at him even as she shifted her staff from one side to the other, blocking several quick attacks and pivoting on one foot in a spinning flourish to parry the final attack above her head.
"Brianna..." he began in that familiar lecturing tone, brown eyes narrowing.
"I have been training in the Echani arts since I was a small child. I know it is never wise to show your back to an opponent," she said dismissively. "I felt your thoughts through the Force though, and I knew what you would do. Would you begrudge me a little fun?"
"And what if I was projecting those thoughts you read on purpose to confuse you?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
"But you were not," she answered smartly, her mouth set in a teasing expression.
"Hmm, really? Might want to check your tunic. I think it got ripped during the fight, he said nonchalantly.
She looked down as Lux grinned, a cut in her clothing exposing her stomach but leaving her skin untouched. She placed a hand on her abdomen as her mouth hung open in shock, almost like she was expecting blood to start streaming from the slash in her tunic. "But how? There was no time for you to cut me. I had your blade trapped on my staff," she said in disbelief.
Lux casually pulled a vibroknife from his belt and spun it around his fingers, maintaining his innocent expression. "A Jedi makes an opponent see what he wants them to see. Overconfidence is the bane of many skilled warriors, some far stronger than either me or you. Remember that".
"Overconfident, huh? I think the same could be said about the person who thought he could cut through a thin layer of cloth without reaching my skin," she grumbled.
"What can I say?" he snickered, giving her a winning smile. "I'm a man of many talents".
"True enough, I suppose...but it is always dangerous though to use real weapons in training," she pointed out.
"Don't worry, Brianna. I'd never hurt you..." he said tenderly, "on purpose at least," he finished, killing the moment. "And I'm still waiting for a 'you were right, Lux'".
"And you shall...for a very long time," the Handmaiden quipped.
Lux did not look in the least put out and smiled warmly at her sour expression. "Speaking of dangerous weapons, you wanted to show me something right?"
She looked startled and a light blush shone on her pale skin. He had felt her anticipation from the moment she sought him out, her nervousness only building as he avoided the subject. It was good for her to learn patience, but he had to admit that he had an ulterior motive, as seeing her squirm with embarrassment as she waited was too good to pass up.
Brianna ruffled through her rumpled, gray robes, the only memento she had of her Jedi mother, retrieving the long, silver hilt of a lightsaber. She offered it to Lux, looking away in embarrassment as he examined it. The metal of the hilt was smooth and unadorned, discrete studs for activating each side and rough, white cloth for grip giving the weapon a rather ascetic look. The ends were likewise constructed in a simplistic manner, the silver cut severely into a rough edge, completely exposing the emitter matrix. Lux activated the weapon, two short, blue blades extending from the long hilt, completing the illusion of holding a staff.
"It certainly suits you," he admitted, handing the deactivated saberstaff back to her. "Blue is definitely your color".
"I chose it because blue is the traditional color of a Jedi Guardian," she stated wryly, quirking one eyebrow up in amusement.
"As you say," Lux shrugged with a sheepish grin. "I would be careful using that though. Double-bladed lightsabers are liable both to claim limbs from their enemies as well as from their masters".
The Handmaiden nodded vigorously in agreement, "The feel of it still seems awkward. All of the weight is in the center, and I always feel unbalanced when I wield it. I still need more training, I suppose".
"Care for another round of sparring?" Lux asked, summoning his own saber to his hand.
She nodded, holding one end of her saberstaff angled toward him. He activated his own weapon and immediately flicked it at her neck in a probing strike. She parried it lazily, lunging forward and down in a series of attacks like she was using a polearm. The two sabers hissed and buzzed as they clashed against each other, leaving a scent of smoke and lightning in the air. "Lux," she spoke in a troubled tone, "After we meet with the masters, do you plan to go after that girl?"
"That's the plan," he grunted, twisting his saber downward to block a sweeping blow aimed at his legs.
"And what do you plan to do when you find her?" she questioned, spinning her staff and bringing one side down on Lux's weapon angled protectively over his shoulder.
He pushed her away and slashed at her midsection, the Echani warrior dancing away and circling him warily. "Redeem her, obviously," he said with a look like he did not understand the point of the question.
"Are you sure that is the wisest course of action? A brush with the dark side is one thing, but the murder of a Jedi Master is another. I know the Jedi believe that no one is beyond redemption and are loath to judge too harshly, but if that girl were just a normal person without the Force, her crime would not be so easily excused. Having the gift of the Force should not be a way to avoid responsibility for our transgressions but a grave responsibility we all bear," Brianna insisted, locking her saber against Lux's, her face mere inches from his.
"Didn't you know falling into darkness was a legitimate defense? Not guilty by reason of dark side, it happens more than you'd think," he joked as Brianna fixed him with a glare. "You're right of course. She can't blame the dark side for her actions, but neither can we lack empathy for what made her this way. She's experienced the worst of horrors in her life, and we can't know what made her do this until we find her and ask".
"And if she refuses to come back to the light?" she questioned, the blue light of her blade making her eyes look like shards of ice.
"Then we'll have no choice. It won't come to that though...I know it," he stated with absolute belief.
"Is that what the Force has told you or something else?"
"Just a gut feeling really, but I've never been wrong...mostly," he laughed before Brianna's hissing saber practically cleaved him in two. "Are you trying to distract me with this conversation?"
"With the amount of skill you have shown, I hardly think that would be necessary," she rolled her eyes, deactivating one side of her lightsaber and smashing it into her opponent's cheek. "I believe that would count as a killing blow...for the second time".
Lux groaned as he held his cheek, the skin already turning a pinkish hue from the blow. "Force, I thought this was a friendly match! I think you knocked some teeth loose!" he whined, checking his mouth for blood.
"I am always serious when I fight. I would hope that you would honor me by doing the same," Brianna huffed, fixing him with an icy glare.
"To hell with honor...I think my jaw is broken," Lux complained.
"All the better then. With your mouth wired shut, I will not have to deal with all your smart comments," she spoke contemptuously, but her face betrayed the hint of a smile.
Lux continued to whine about the pain, whimpering in an overly dramatic manner as Brianna's expression grew increasingly guilty. She finally sighed and went over to him in a huff, saying, "Are you really injured? Let me see it".
She grabbed his jaw in a vice-like grip and wrenched his head around, examining the red mark on his cheek and prodding it to see if anything was actually broken. While this was going on, Lux, in clear discomfort from her manhandling, slurred, "Is this your idea of tender care, torturing the injured person?"
"You are exaggerating. At worst you will have a bruise and probably not even that. Put some ice on it," she said brusquely.
"How about a kiss? I think that'd make all this pain just disappear," he asked innocently, grinning all the while.
To his surprise Brianna returned his smile and leaned in close, her silver eyes bright with laughter. He closed his eyes, expecting to feel her lips brushed against his, but instead he felt his mouth collide with two fingers, which gently but firmly pushed him back. He opened his eyes only to see Brianna looking at him like a bemused owner would regard a misbehaving pet, her lips locked in a struggle between a warm smile and disapproving frown. "You think yourself sly, but even without the Force I can see right through you," she lectured in a playful tone. "Fight me seriously next time, and maybe I will consider your proposal".
"I'm up for a rematch. How about right now?" he said eagerly.
"Oh, I thought you were disabled from that terrible injury?" she mocked.
"The Force is a powerful healer. Already I can feel the pain ebbing away. Extraordinary! You could even call it a miracle!"
"If you keep this up, it will be a miracle if you survive long enough to get a rematch," Brianna said darkly.
"Well I happen to be quite the risk taker, and when I gamble, it tends to pay off," he smirked.
"All it takes is one loss," she reminded him.
"When I set out to get something, I never lose," he laughed, full of bravado.
"We will see about that, won't we?" Brianna called after him as he left the cargo hold.
Lux could only shake his head and grin but the euphoria he felt was short lived as a synthesized voice spoke from behind him, " A word if you will, Lux Vulnus".
"What is it, Goto?" he answered, turning to the spherical droid and wondering how it had snuck up on him so fast.
"Am I to understand that young Kallian Tabris has undergone a change of allegiance?" the droid inquired politely.
"That's one way of putting it. Word is she killed a Jedi Master and fell to the dark side. She could be on Korriban cackling madly to herself for all we know," he shrugged, unwilling to go over this particular subject again.
"I see. Unfortunate," G0-T0 responded, but the droid did not seem very disappointed.
"Yes, very," Lux agreed and began to turn away.
"Should I have her tracked down and eliminated?" the droid asked emotionlessly.
Lux turned back to look at the droid aghast, but its single camera eye betrayed nothing. Some droids were easy to read, their interfaces designed to mimic organic expression and gesture, but this one was harder to pin down. The way it could switch from being unfailingly polite to subtly condescending and the utter ruthlessness it showed disturbed him. He could not help to feel something sinister about G0-T0 despite his claimed absolute loyalty to the Republic. "That won't be necessary. I plan find her and bring her back if I can," he said with finality.
"Some might call such a strategy foolish," the droid said coolly.
"Just some? What about you?" Lux asked as he crossed his arms.
"Every asset has qualities of risk inherent to it. Often the most unpredictable assets are ones that are potentially the most profitable. A wise strategy is to assign risk over a wide range of diversified accounts. One should never rely on one investment if ultimate success is to be achieved," G0-T0 explained, his eye never leaving Lux's even as the droid hovered around.
"I wouldn't classify people as investments," the Exile spoke coldly, eyeing the droid with distrust.
"Ah, forgive me. I had forgotten the typical Jedi compassion. You may think me ruthless, but oftentimes we must dirty our hands if our cause is to be served. I have confidence that you will do what is required to maintain the stability of the Republic, as of course, you did what was necessary before at Malachor," G0-T0 remarked in a conciliatory way.
"I don't know if I could do it over again, I'd still pull the trigger at Malachor," he said harshly, angry that the droid could consider the loss of so many lives to be so unimportant.
"In my interactions with organics, I have come to recognize one of your more idiosyncratic quirks," the droid continued. "You see, in stressful situations, organic minds process information quickly, therefore making decisions far easier to make. After the fact, however, the organic mind often cannot come to terms with these decisions and broods constantly over whether circumstances dictated a different course of action. In my opinion, this function is quite useful. It enables organics that unfortunately lack much of the logic inherent in my kind to put aside moral considerations that debilitate reasoned judgment so that the goal can ultimately be realized. If it were not so, most organics would be incapable of casting aside faulty and meaningless notions that have no place in rational decision making".
"You could have just said: just do something, worry about the consequences later," Lux grumbled.
"That would be an imprecise summary of my meaning. Consequences should be considered, but only concrete, statistical factors including possible loss of life and potential gains, whether territorial, monetary, or otherwise. A cost-benefit analysis if you will".
"And how could you approach this thing with Kallian?"
"More intelligence is required to come to a conclusive answer, obviously," the droid droned on. "Based on what little we know, it may be prudent to allow her to act on her own for the time being without interference. The loss of Master Lonna Vash may in fact be an unexpected windfall given the Jedi Council's failure on so many fronts in the aftermath of the war. The Republic has no need of those who would dissuade it from striking its enemies".
"I hardly think the murder of a Jedi Master is reason to celebrate," Lux scowled.
"I take no pleasure in her death. Our enemies will not stop to mourn her loss, and we too must be proactive in devising solutions to such an unfortunate occurrence. That of course means determining ways to profit from this unexpected loss," Goto replied evenly.
"I see," Lux said in a clipped manner, turning away from the droid. He stopped though, turning back to Goto and asking, "Would you kill her to save the Republic?"
"Without hesitation. It is the purpose for which I exist, after all," the droid answered quickly in that cold, synthesized voice. "But I prefer not to liquidate useful assets. One cannot derive return from an investment if it no longer exists".
Lux regarded the droid for another moment after it fell silent, nodding as he left.
Kallian slogged through the knee-deep snow back to the stolen freighter, the asymmetrical, gray and black hulk obvious in the sea of white. Atton practically swooned when they laid eyes on it at one of Nar Shaddaa's many seedy spaceports. She saw nothing remarkable in the scarred craft, its appearance typical of other ships she had seen navigating the lonely expanse of space. She resembled the Ebon Hawk to an extent, the rounded hull in the back and the irregular prow being chief among the similarities, but where Revan's ship was a half disk with forward facing prongs, this one curved into a broad wedge. Along the side was the outrigger cockpit, the way it jutted out from the freighter always making Kallian a little nervous. She would prefer if it were buried deep within the ship, away from blood-vaporizing vacuum.
Her former captain had called her Dice Roll, or so they learned from the ship's computer, a rather uncooperative droid brain that harbored hatred for its former master only equaled by the contempt it felt for the ones who stole it. Kallian felt it to be rather inauspicious name, considering it was named after a gamble, but Atton felt it appropriate for a Corellian ship and a smuggler to boot. He claimed this model of freighter when modified was one of the fastest and most durable ships in the galaxy, able to outrun even an interdictor cruiser, whatever that was. It was not much to look at on the outside with faded paint, a healthy number of scuffs, and numerous pits in its dull armor, and the inside was worse, but she would trust Atton's opinion for now.
Stealing her had been easy enough with Mira seemingly taking to the side of the Force affecting the mind rather well. She effortlessly convinced the captain that they had won the freighter in a game of Pazzak, the old fool even begging for a rematch after the fact with some Hutt crimelord's cargo of spice as the wager. Kallian almost pitied the dull-witted man, desperate enough that he was to risk the wrath of the Hutts all to keep his ship. She also envied Mira, though she would never admit it, for her innate ability to mind trick, a skill she sadly lacked. Mira was a little more hesitant about engaging in outright theft, something that Kallian could not understand given her former profession of selling people to the worst scum on the smuggler's moon, but she assuaged her conscience by reasoning that it was better than killing the half-witted pirate. They were only borrowing the ship after all and for the greater good too. Maybe someday they would return it, Kallian spoke out loud to her companions. She did not hear Atton whisper under his breath about the chances of that happening, so enamored was he with the freighter.
She opened the hatch, a nervous-looking Atton greeting her with Mira not too far behind. She looked at him quizzically before he spoke a single word, "Dead?"
"That's one Sith Lord that won't trouble us anymore," she sighed, running thin fingers through the tangles of her wet hair.
"Good," he said with relish. "You hurt anywhere? What's wrong with your arm?"
She saw him eyeing her right arm, the prosthesis hanging limply, and she tried to move the artificial limb without success. "Atris' Force lightning must have damaged it," she concluded before activating her lightsaber and preparing to slice it off. "You think I should cut it off? It's just dead weight now".
He looked at her like she was crazy and motioned for her to put away the saber before saying in a patronizing tone, "You know you can just get it repaired. The lightning probably fried the circuits a bit".
Kallian huffed at being treated like an idiot child, her voice filled with venom as she said, "How in the Force's name am I supposed to know how this sodding thing works, huh? Maybe if someone would explain these things to me before I made an ass of myself, but no, they get some kind of twisted pleasure out of it".
"Well you seem fine. I thought you were facing a Jedi Master. So few Jedi left that any nerf herder can become a master it seems" Mira spoke up.
"Wannabe Sith Lord more like," she spoke contemptuously. "She was overconfident...not to mention one archdemon short of a blight".
"You still speaking Basic?" Atton asked, one eyebrow quirked up in a wry expression.
"Delusional, consumed by the dark side, completely out of her fucking mind, whatever you want to call it," she said irritably.
"So what now?" Mira asked. "Lux and the rest are probably long gone from Onderon now. Should we go and warn him?"
"Lux can take care of himself. My home, on the other hand, is about to be destroyed by some Sith abomination that feeds off the Force. We need to alert someone high up in the Republic," she answered in a condescending tone.
"Well I could crash the ship into the Senate, and we could try to wrangle a Senator. On second thought, scratch that. The Sith will be attacking Coruscant, and we'd still be plowing through bureaucracy," Atton joked.
"I was thinking more local actually. We don't have the time to go anywhere else," Kallian commented.
"There's a fleet anchored off Citadel Station...don't know who's in command though," Mira shrugged.
"Think if I name drop Revan I could get a meeting?" Kallian asked, looking hopefully at her two companions.
"You might...or you might get us all arrested for associating with a war criminal slash traitor slash Sith Lord. Really depends on who's in charge I guess. We're shit out of luck if it's anyone from the Core," Atton said with a grimace, running a hand through his hair in a nervous gesture.
"Worse comes to worst, we take over the bastard's mind and steal the fleet," Kallian said simply, completely serious.
"I was hoping you'd come up with a better plan than that. Should I just turn myself in now?" Atton grinned.
"That's just plan B," Kallian informed him, glaring at the man.
"I don't want to know what plan A is, do I?" Atton sighed.
"Just ask for help obviously," she retorted. "If that fails, we grovel and beg. Mind tricks are an absolute last resort".
"Great," Atton said dryly, leaving no doubt to what he thought about her grand plan.
He followed her to the cockpit and lowered himself into the pilot's chair, his hands flying over the console as he prepped the ship for launch. "You know one of these days, your luck in a fight's going to run out. I think I'm going with you next time, to hell with whatever you say about it".
"You're a real hero, Atton. All you need is some shining armor and a princess to save and you'd be right out of some chivalrous romance," she mocked, throwing herself into the copilot's seat.
"Armor won't do much against blasters and lightsabers unless it's Mandalorian, but I already got the princess, so I guess one out of two isn't bad," he grinned.
"Princess? Well that's nice. Keep the compliments coming and you might actually get somewhere".
"What, you falling for me already?"
"Hardly," Kallian frowned. "I have enough stupidity in my life without you around. I shudder just thinking about it".
"What, I'm not your type? Could have fooled me," he shot back snidely.
"Oh, you're exactly my type. Handsome human with a penchant for sarcasm and lacking in brains? Throw in a smidge of angst and you're practically ideal," she snapped back.
Atton did a double take and was uncharacteristically silent for a moment. When he finally recovered, all he could manage was "You serious?"
Kallian gave him a wry glance and rolled her eyes. "Dumber than I thought".
"You're a real schutta you know that?"
"Thanks. I'll take that as a compliment too," she smiled as the ship rocketed into the air.
The three masters stood on the dais of the ruined council chamber, each observing the man before them coolly, all mindful to not betray any emotion. It was a fitting image, Kreia admitted, with the masters standing above the one they would judge, looking down at him like he was a criminal awaiting his fate before the bench. It was a cruel irony that no collection of individuals was less entitled to sit in judgment of another than this collection of fools and cravens.
Kreia observed from the shadows of the columned halls as they exchanged pleasantries, the hateful Force granting her sight where her body had long ago failed her, Vrook's greeting apparently in the form of a thinly veiled insult. It was unsurprising that he would act in such an uncouth manner. Owing a debt to another would always be a source of shame on the part of the benefited party, a weakness that would eat at them and make them resent their benefactor. It was inevitable. Aid someone and they would surely come to loathe you, so consumed by pride that simple charity would stand as the most grievous insult. Lux had been unwise to come to the old fool's aid, and now he would pay for his naïveté.
As their conversation moved inevitably to its climax, Kreia felt her attention waning as she felt echoes emanating from the worn stone of the temple through the Force. She had spent little time here in her youth, either as a student or as a teacher of others, her duties as a librarian necessitating her close proximity to the great archives on Coruscant. Most of the damage her former student had wrought was now repaired, but the reconstruction failed to cover up the wound that existed here, a dull pain echoing through the Force along with the silent screams of murdered children. The masters were deaf to it, willfully shutting out the agony of those who were tortured and killed here. All that mattered to them was the symbolism of such a futile gesture, the Jedi Order rising from the ashes of the old, uncowed by the brutality of the Sith. But they had never experienced the horrors of war, the chilling wails of soldiers abandoned on the battlefield slowly fading as their wounds and exposure silenced them, the sight of beings reduced to splattered blood and chunks of meat by weapons unleashing power far more terrible than the Force itself, or the blackened hulks of destroyed ships surrounded by frozen bodies sparkling in the deep black like stars. If they had known such things, perhaps they would not insist upon this folly.
A surge of strong emotions brought her back from such thoughts; confusion and rage emanating from her apprentice at the 'truth' these supposed masters offered. But even then, they spoke lie after lie, and Kreia could not help but speak the truth out loud, contradicting each of their self-serving pronouncements. A wound in the Force, that is what they named him. They were wrong. She was a wound in the Force, twisted and corrupted by the power of Malachor, a festering, weeping gash that radiated pain throughout the fabric of the universe. He was something far greater than that. He was the death of the Force, a pestilence that bred rot and infection, withering the very essence of the universe. Through him, the enemy of all life would be extinguished, and the price of betrayal would be paid in full.
She heard him try to reason with them as they revealed their final treachery, desperation rising in his voice as he was frozen in a stasis field. They offered meaningless apologies and false justifications for their crime, but even their invocation of duty and false regret could not hide the fear that motivated them. Kreia could not fault them in truth, as it was man's nature to be self-interested, caring nothing for the needs of their fellows. However, these particular men claimed to act for the good of all beings, dedicated to the duty to the Order they held in sacred trust. Hypocrisy was the ugliest of human flaws. They sought to judge her apprentice, making him a scapegoat for all their failures, but judgment was a double-edged sword.
"This one comes to you speaking wisdom, and yet you reject it? The arrogance!" she spoke coldly, projecting power in her voice.
The masters turned to her, their eyes narrowing as they looked upon another of those they cast aside. She could feel their surprise, her presence having escaped their stunted senses, but also their fear and anger, two emotions they would claim had been left behind them. "You!" Vrook pointed, his mouth curled into a vicious snarl. "Is this the one you have turned to for teachings, Exile? If so, you seek Revan's path, and you will fall as surely as she did".
Kreia smiled at that, a grim, knowing smile. Vrook Lamar had always been quick to anger and contemptuous of those who did not share his rigid views on what a Jedi should be. How many of his students lost their lives during the war in an attempt to thumb their noses at the old fool? "Too many," she thought, remembering the scattered bodies on worlds sacked by those savages, "and your efforts were in vain. He will never change...even at the end".
She could feel Lux straining to look at her, but she did not need to look into his eyes to know what lay behind them. He was still a naïve child even now, wondering what she would do now confronted by three Jedi Masters, all of whom would not hesitate to strike her down. The last part did not occur to him though, as even after all the Jedi had done to him, the lies they told, the betrayals they wrought, he could not bring himself to acknowledge what they were. "Ironic," she thought, "that it is only when we are blind that we truly see". It was time they opened their eyes, all of them, to the world as it was. It would be the last lesson she taught her apprentice, that lies and truths are one in the same. She would teach him, as she was taught, the lesson of betrayal.
She paused at the climax of her speech, the words escaping from her mouth almost sounding as if another person spoke them. She felt like she was in a theater, watching as the player on the stage acted out a scene, the tension building as nervous energy crackled through the hall, the audience watching with bated breath as she took a dramatic pause. Now was the moment the hero became the villain or perhaps the villain the hero. It mattered little. All that mattered was the change, the moment where everything had been building up to finally being realized. "Now...see the Force through the eyes of the Exile," she spoke.
They ignited their lightsabers, anticipating the attack. The fools probably expected something crude and direct like Force lightning, but her method was far more elegant. She simply plucked the Force from them, tearing their connection away and leaving them in an unstable state between death and life. They did not last long. Without the warm embrace of the Force they were nothing, weak and incapable, not even having the strength of will to hold onto their lives. The Force had been living for them this whole time, and without it, they knew not how to survive, and so they died. The Force was the air they breathed, and without it, they suffocated. She watched them fall with indifference, feeling the horror of her apprentice freeze his blood before he too succumbed to the pain radiating through the vast web of the Force. Had he really expected any other outcome? "More fool you then," she though with a tinge of anger, a flare she quickly extinguished.
She left him lying in the courtyard, a prior appointment not allowing her to linger for long. When he woke he would have questions, but her purposes were best served if he formed his own conclusions. Should he think her an enemy, all the better when Malachor drew him back. His anger and sadness at her betrayal would aggravate the wound within, and coupled with the power of the broken world, the Force would be torn asunder. If he would kill her after that, an unlikely possibility in her own opinion, she would go into darkness free.
"What have you done with Lux?" a sharp voice spoke beside her.
Kreia did not turn to acknowledge the girl, a cruel smile forming on her lips. "Has your broken oath to that fool Atris stunted your senses, little girl, or have you closed your eyes to the truth?"
"You didn't...you wouldn't! He was your apprentice...he trusted you, loved you!" she despaired, her words filled with agony and regret.
"A useful tool, nothing more. Faith and friendship can be far more useful in bending pawns to your will than fear. A servant may fight for you but not willingly. A friend, however, will gladly die for you, never knowing that they were just another slave to your plans," she explained, taking cruel pleasure in deceiving the girl.
The snap of a lightsaber activating filled the air, and Kreia felt the fiery blade kiss her throat. "Murderer!" the girl hissed. "You will answer for this! Lux...Lux..."
"Just like your mother, oath breaker and betrayer of everything you believe in. Such a pathetic infatuation...so humorous to behold..." Kreia chuckled as the lightsaber singed her skin.
"What do you know of my mother, and you dare to speak to me of betrayal? I should cut that hypocritical tongue from your lying mouth!" she raged, trying to hold back the bitter tears obscuring her vision.
"What do I know of your mother?" Kreia remarked sweetly. "More than you know, child. Perhaps I should tell you...tell you of the cursed blood that runs through your veins. You cloak yourself in honor to hide the mask of treachery you wear. It is truly remarkable how much you look like..."
Speak one more word, and I will wipe your perfidious form from the face of the galaxy!" Brianna growled. "You know nothing! You have a snake's forked tongue and speak naught but lies. I should kill you where you stand!"
"Is that why you built that weapon, to serve as an executioner's blade? I thought the Jedi refused to kill their prisoners, or is the Code so easily cast aside? I suppose with Lux out of the way, that is one less temptation that need concern you," she quipped, feeling the spike of fury threatening to overcome the girl.
"I am sorely tempted," she agreed coldly. "What is another broken oath after the first really? But that is what you want, is it not? You Sith seem to take perverse pleasure in making others like you, perhaps because you want others to lower themselves to your level. It must be lonely down there. I will not give you the pleasure. Atris will judge you...judge us both. Will you come willingly or die here?"
"More than willingly, though I think you will be disappointed when we reach our destination. You will have to live with your guilt, as no one will grant you absolution. The dead are deaf to the pleas of the living," she said cryptically, that knowing smile sending a shudder through her captor. Kreia could not help feeling disappointed even though she knew it was a gift beyond measure that Brianna was truly her father's daughter.
Carth Onasi looked out at the surface of Telos gently curving below the haphazard modules and superstructure of Citadel Station. The solid brown of the continents was slowly becoming greener and the drab gray of the oceans carried a hint of their former cerulean beauty as the restoration efforts continued. Telos was not alone in bearing the scars of Malak's unchecked brutality, but perhaps luckier than most, now it had a chance to recover. If the Republic succeeded here, other devastated worlds could maybe one day see the return of their displaced populaces now scattered throughout the Rim.
The annoying beep of the comlink woke Carth from his silent meditation, and he reached out angrily to answer what was probably another report of friction between the various contractors in theory supposed to be working together in restoring his homeworld. He had already received half a dozen this morning, all about the sketchy practices of Czerka. When he had asked why a company known to be involved in slaving operations and with a virtually uncontested history of being supportive of the Sith during the Civil War, both allegations that could be readily attest to being true, had received such a lucrative contract to supervise the operations on Telos, he was pointed to the large contribution they gave to the sector's Senator for his reelection campaign. Typical politicians.
"Admiral, there is a woman here requesting a meeting with you," his aid informed him.
"That's great, but I'm not in the business of meeting with every person who comes to see me. Show her out," he said sharply, not amused that the communications officer would interrupt him for something so unimportant.
"She is rather insistent, sir. She says...well she claims that she is Revan's apprentice and that she needs your help," the aid spoke with a degree of puzzlement.
That got Carth's attention. He had heard nothing of Revan for years ever since she started recovering some of her lost memories. Even before that, they did not talk much, an occasional insult here or a cutting remark there being the norm. But after that she simply disappeared, leaving for who knows where. The Republic's forces had been on alert for a short while after her departure, the Jedi Council fearing that she might have lapsed back to her old ways, but she had not returned. Even Bastilla knew nothing of her whereabouts or her state of mind, the bond forged between them blocked by some unseen darkness. And now she was contacting him, leaving him confused on whether to feel excited or terrified. "Revan's apprentice?" he repeated questioningly. "Can she prove it?"
"Well I don't know, sir," his aid conceded. "She is wearing Jedi robes, and I have her lightsaber in my possession. If you are asking me whether I can verify her identity though...I don't know if I can. Should I have her detained?"
"Get a message through to Bastilla and tell her to come immediately. Hold Revan's supposed apprentice until she arrives and confiscate any weapons she might have," Carth ordered, his mind jumping around to any number of reasons why Revan would contact them and whether the prickly woman he knew would even take on an apprentice. "Would give her someone to criticize at least," he thought darkly.
When he first met Revan, Nox as she was named then by a not particularly clever Jedi Council, he was unsure what to think of her. She could be kind and funny in a slightly mean-spirited way, but mostly she was bratty and demanding, like a spoiled child almost. She belittled others and seemed incapable of caring for or even understanding their problems. When Bastilla joined up with them and Revan regained her connection to the Force, he noticed how the famous padawan shot concerned looks at Revan, the lack of empathy she displayed growing more apparent over time. Despite her obvious misgivings, Bastilla grew closer to Revan, probably finding some commonality in their shared contempt for most of the galaxy's denizens not to mention egos that could dwarf a gas giant. His relationship with Revan on the other hand was not pleasant, her callousness and abrasive personality constantly grating on him.
He supposed she was not all bad. At other times, Revan could be surprisingly sweet, at least toward those who held her favor, and righteous in her actions. She went out of her way to save his son though she complained throughout the entire ordeal, her constant refrain being that it would be far easier to kill him, as after all, he was just another Sith. And when Juhani was confronted with the slaver who murdered her parents, Revan cut him down herself rather than let the young Jedi taint her hands through murder. There was something about her, something that attracted others to her, made them care about her goals and admire her despite the cruelty she displayed.
What worried him more were the hints of darkness he had seen within after learning her true identity, the strain of coping with such a revelation turning her into an embittered monster who lashed out at both friend and enemy. He remembered thinking they were all fools for not seeing what she was, Mission so enamored with the idea of her as a cool, big sister, Zalbar with his unshakable loyalty, the Mandalorian who could only see the glorious battles she would lead them to. Waiting on the beach on the Rakatan homeworld, he had waited for the inevitable, so sure was he that she would fall back into darkness where Revan had been born once before. Then he saw the bright face of Juhani, smiling shyly at the woman she was clearly smitten with, along with the gruff visage of Jolee trying to hide the pride he felt about the woman whom he saw as a surrogate daughter. Revan had not turned to the dark side in that tainted place where she and Malak had uncovered the ancient evil of the Star Forge. She rejected Bastilla's offer of reassuming the mantle of Darth Revan, claiming that the Dark Lord was dead. He had been wrong.
So they were heroes, but Revan would have nothing to do with the Jedi. Friends went their separate ways, leaving Revan to brood alone on nightmares of the past. Was she in trouble? Was she struggling with the call of the dark side? Had she found what she was looking for at the edge of space? A million questions buzzed in Carth's mind as a disheveled Bastilla practically ran into the room, her breath ragged and her normally pale face flushed.
"Revan has returned?" she asked immediately, her eyes darting around the room even though the Force must have told her that she was not there.
"Someone claiming to be her apprentice. My aid says she come asking for help," he answered her as he struggled to keep the wry grin off his face. For someone like Bastilla who took pride in maintaining an aloof and calm air to get so worked up, the news of Revan must have really put her in a frazzled state.
"Where is she?" Bastilla asked impatiently.
A Republic soldier entered the room at that point, bearing a lightsaber than Carth recognized immediately, the black stone inlay cut into silver metal glinting in the light. The trooper hesitated over whom to give the weapon to, but quickly passed it on when Bastilla held out her hand. She immediately activated it, the familiar bronze blade erupting from the hilt and bathing her in orange light. "Well," she said, deactivating the saber, "where is Revan's so-called apprentice?"
Another soldier motioned for someone outside the room to enter, a vague look of suspicion on her face as the small figure entered. She was short of stature, perhaps barely reaching five feet and thin enough that she almost appeared unhealthy. The woman had an uncanny look about her, but Carth brushed it off as merely the small differences present in near-human species. Her most obvious defining feature was her long, pointed ears that framed her face, similar to a Sephi though more pronounced. She wore simple Jedi robes over her tanned skin, one arm hanging awkwardly from a cutoff sleeve. The hint of metal beneath tightly wound bandages gave him the impression that her artificial limb was out of commission, but there was no obvious damage to it.
As he took this all in, his gaze focused on her large, wide eyes and his heart almost stopped in his chest. Golden eyes rimmed with red were looking at him coldly, a color only present in one particular kind of Force user. He pulled his blaster faster than anyone in the room could react and aimed it at the point right between those monstrous eyes. "I don't know whether you're brave or stupid for coming to me like this. I thought the Sith were supposed to be cunning," he spoke evenly even as anger rose within, the soldiers around him finally leveling their blasters at her at his accusation.
The woman's golden eyes widened still further, and she held up one hand in a gesture of surrender, the other still hanging limp at her side. When she spoke, her words carried a strange accent as she quickly protested her innocence. "Listen! I'm not a Sith! These eyes...are just a part of me, something I can't change. I only came here to ask for help...please believe me".
Carth did not lower his blaster, his suspicious mind always on the lookout for potential betrayal. "You say you're Revan's apprentice, but she never mentioned any apprentice...save Malak," he interrogated, but rather than looking guilty, the woman's mouth hung open in surprise.
"You knew her?" she asked. "I guess if you were in the military there'd be a chance..."
"Revan was our companion in the war against Malak," Bastilla spoke up warily. "Both of us were there when she slew the Sith Lord. I am Bastilla Shan, a Jedi Knight, and this is Admiral Carth Onasi. I assume you knew who you requested to speak with?"
The fiery-haired woman grimaced and looked away sheepishly. "I just asked for the highest ranking person they could get me," she admitted before turning back to Bastilla. "I'm Kallian Tabris by the way. Revan mentioned you to me once. She said you were friends...and that she saved you from the dark side".
Bastilla scoffed disbelievingly, her dark eyes flashing. "Her, save me? Hardly. If I had not bought time for her to escape on Malak's flagship, we would all be dead now. Of all the nerve, that woman!"
Kallian looked at her curiously before saying, "I don't know what you're so mad about. She never talked about her past much or the people she knew, but she'd always repeat things you said like 'no one deserves execution, no matter what their crimes'. I guess you weren't as close as she let on".
Bastilla's eyes widened in surprise, truly touched that the woman she constantly fought with valued her words enough to impart them to others. "No...that is not true," she began before recovering her haughty attitude and saying dismissively, "Well...at least she learned something of value from me".
"Kallian then turned to Carth or more accurately to the barrel of a blaster pistol held inches from her face. "Care to put that away? I'd rather not go around for the rest of my life with a charred hole through my skull," she asked, and after a moment's hesitation, he complied. "I can't remember if she mentioned you, Admiral. She might have...or not".
"I wouldn't be surprised if she didn't. Revan and I had...an antagonistic relationship to say the least," he admitted. "We disagreed on a lot of things, and what happened during the war was...harder to forgive".
"So what? Revan pisses everyone off. You're hardly alone in not getting along with her," Kallian shrugged. "I know I wanted to strangle her a few times, and I even tried to kill her once, no joke. She saved me though, so I have to give her that".
"Revan has a knack for that though she'd probably say it was beneath her to help us lesser mortals," Carth observed with a smile.
"When you say she saved you...you refer to the dark side, correct?" Bastilla questioned sharply. "I can sense it in you, all that rage and fear, locked away".
Kallian nodded slowly, conscious of how she must look to them. "I lost myself for awhile. I could not control my anger and hatred, and I let it control me. Revan brought me back...though she almost killed me in the process," she explained, her hand unconsciously moving to the scar on her abdomen.
"The Jedi believe no one is beyond redemption. It is our duty to try to save those who have fallen, even if they do not want to be," Bastilla spoke. "We all have our weaknesses, and the dark side is nothing if not an opportunistic predator".
"Speaking from experience?" Kallian remarked smartly, but surprisingly Bastilla did not seem to take offense.
"As painful as it is for me to admit, yes. If I was there for Revan's redemption, she was there for my own. She and I are connected in more ways than one," she spoke softly.
"Now about what you wanted to tell us..." Carth tried to steer the conversation back. "You said Revan was in trouble?"
"Yes, she's trapped on my homeworld as far as I know, and the Sith could attack at any time. She needs help...my world needs help; can you spare some ships or an army maybe?" she asked, cringing all the while at being forced to make such a ridiculous request.
"Oh, just an army. That shouldn't be too hard," Carth scoffed.
Bastilla appeared more sympathetic at least. "Where is this world, and what Sith are attacking? Remnants of Malak's empire?" she asked seriously.
"In the Unknown Regions, and I don't know much about the Sith...only that he's the one that attacked someplace called Katarr," she answered with a shrug. "HK can give you the coordinates to my homeworld".
Both Bastilla and Carth narrowed their eyes when they heard the name of the dead planet, the tomb of untold numbers of Jedi. "Are you sure of this, the Sith who destroyed the Council on Katarr?" the Jedi questioned in a disbelief.
"I'm not sure. I was only told this by another Sith, Darth Traya, Revan's former master. She said he would destroy my world and kill Revan, oh and the Republic would fall," the frowning woman explained.
After she was finished, Carth turned to Bastilla and whispered, "Even if we brought a fleet, we wouldn't know what we were up against. What do you think?"
"We must go. The Sith will not be stopped by wishing they never return. If this threat proves too strong, at least the Republic will have warning," she concluded.
"A warning the politicians will promptly ignore. Do you even think we can trust her? A lot of people can put a good story together, and I wouldn't put any stock in anyone with eyes like that," he murmured suspiciously eyeing the scowling woman warily. Kallian could not help feeling a little offended, both for thinking she was deaf and this baseless slander, but she knew that in his position, such concerns would be justified.
"I sense no deceit from her. There is darkness in her, yes, but a spy for the Sith would attempt to conceal it far better than she has," the Jedi Knight said with certainty.
"I have one more request," Kallian spoke quickly, anticipation and hope rising within her. "My people have been long persecuted by the humans on my world. Revan said the Jedi don't tolerate injustice, and the Republic treats all its races equally, or at least tries to. Can you help us, perhaps let us join your Republic?"
"The Republic doesn't have a presence in the Unknown Regions. I doubt the Senate will approve an intervention especially if the planetary government is opposed," the admiral shook his head.
"We don't have a world government. I didn't even know it was possible to travel through space a few years ago. My world is made up of little kingdoms that don't even know what's across the ocean," she explained quickly. "My people are treated like animals, forced into slavery or worse. If you saw what it was like, you couldn't let it stand".
"The Senate will be even less willing to deal with a primitive world, and it might make your situation worse, opening your world up to pirates and slavers from the Rim. The Republic will not be able to protect you so far from the Core," Carth told her, knowing all too well how the corrupt bureaucracy of the Republic conducted peacekeeping missions. Kleptocracy at its finest. "I'll try my best to help you, but the Republic is no savior. Just look how badly they're kriffing up the restoration of Telos. I wouldn't get your hopes up".
"If your race is treated truly as you say, the Jedi may take some action, but there are few of us left. We will do all we can, I promise you that," Bastilla added.
"Thank you," Kallian lowered her head in a respectful manner. She knew they had promised relatively little, but she had not expected much to begin with. Perhaps the Force was truly with her now, guiding her to Revan's friends instead of an unknown and uncaring party. "We should leave soon. The Sith certainly will not wait".
"So Revan...what's the world you come from like?" Merrill asked hesitantly, her large eyes looking off in every direction except toward the woman she was taking to.
"The world I was born on...I remember little of it. I grew up on Coruscant at the Temple," she answered. "The capital of the Republic".
"That was one of the stars you showed us on that map, right? It looked very pretty," she continued, unabashed at Revan's standoffish personality.
"Coruscant is beautiful, I suppose. From space it glitters in the darkness, orange and yellow lines crisscrossing on a bed of purple and gray. The surface is covered with gleaming towers and tapered spires soaring above the clouds, and at night, the city comes alive with light brighter than any sun. There are no forests, no oceans, not even a patch of bare ground, just an endless range of mountains of steel and glass".
"That sounds like a nightmare, no ocean? I don't know what I'd do with myself," Merrill's friend, the obnoxious and lascivious Isabella interjected.
"You could go pirate out on the Outer Rim, preying on spice freighters from Kessel or stalk the Perlemian Trade Route and Hydian Way. Space is an endless ocean, vast and empty. The Republic fleet is made up of hundreds of thousands of vessels, but they can only patrol a miniscule portion of the galaxy. If you hesitate to waylay innocents, you could always become a smuggler, the noble and ancient profession as they say on Nar Shaddaa".
"Doesn't that sound exciting Isabella? How romantic, traveling amidst the stars to places unknown, meeting new people, having adventures. It sounds so exciting!" Merrill gushed.
"Kitten, going someplace new always sounds great at first...until you get there. I'm sure this Coruscant, if it even exists, isn't the utopia she's making it out to be. A big city just means more room for beggars and seedy bars. Not that that's always a bad thing," the pirate shrugged.
"If you are expecting any world to be prefect, expect to be sorely disappointed. Coruscant is like a jewel set in a gilded ring. Underneath the golden exterior, there is nothing but base metal corroding with rust, but if anything, the darker parts of the city only make it more interesting. The best times I ever had there were exploring the Undercity, deep beneath the surface layers. There are people there who have lived for generations without knowing that the sky even exists, their homes buried beneath miles of machinery and crumbling buildings left to deteriorate when new levels of the city were built. It has been so long since the dawn of the Republic and even before then that no one remembers what Coruscant looked like before or when the city was first constructed. Like the human homeworld, our history has been lost to myth and legend".
"Now you're sounding like Kitten here, lost in the past. You both should just let the past lie and live your lives. That's what I do," Isabella suggested with a smirk.
"Yes, I'm sure your life is a model for us all. I am quite satisfied with the path I have embarked on without taking your unsolicited advice," Revan said dismissively.
"Oh, it's not for your benefit. I just can't have you filling Kitten's head with all this nonsense about sailing the stars and whatnot. She already has her head in the stars as it is," Isabella said affectionately, bringing in the girl for a tight embrace as Merrill's ears turned a vibrant pink.
Revan felt a mixture of revulsion and slight amusement at the sickeningly sweet display, smirking as several templars tripped over themselves tracking the pair with their hidden gazes. At least these two would be useful in distracting the attentions of these fanatics though their antics also attracted far more stares than she would have liked.
Sebastian had made good on his promise to reveal her presence to whatever passed in this wretched city for the authorities, conveniently leaving out the involvement of Hawke and his friends. She could almost respect his loyalty to this world's fanciful religion and the people who represented it, but more so she could admire the dedication he showed toward his friends. Apostates and blood mages surrounded him, but as long as they acted reasonably, he would not turn them in, at least not without the support of Hawke. His resolve had made things far more difficult for her though, as templars were now a routine sight on every winding street, ever vigilant for a woman dressed in dark, foreign clothing. It was tiring to affect the minds of those around her, subtly influencing them to ignore her out-of-place garments and armor, and she had him to blame for that.
"It's a shame you can't teach me how to do that," Isabella said wistfully, eyeing the vigilant templars with a look of longing. "I could walk into the Viscount's treasury and rob him blind right under his nose. Oh, it would be glorious!"
"You are better off relying on your own skills. The Force is a crutch that should not be leaned on too heavily lest it snap under the weight of the user," the masked woman lectured.
"Here comes the 'with great power comes great responsibility' speech," the pirate said with a roll of her eyes.
"First of all, I doubt you even have a concept of what responsibility means," Revan sneered, "and even if you did, you have no power of any consequence worth worrying about. So it would be pointless to say anything of the sort to you".
"You're worse than Aveline. Why don't you head up to the Blooming Rose and loosen up. The girls up there have seen everything; you won't even scare them with a face like that," Isabella said with an evil grin.
"Isabella!" Merrill whispered reproachfully.
"I'm only joking, Kitten," she laughed, ruffling the girl's dark hair. "I wouldn't mind going a round or two with you. If what Kitten told me is true about how you fight, I can only imagine how you'd be in bed".
Isabella could not hide her wide smirk as she waited for Revan to snap back with a scathing remark, but the prickly woman's mind was elsewhere, her gray eyes focused on the sky. She could feel the stirrings in the Force, the feeling of disquiet as he turned his attention to this world. In what was left of his ruined mind, he became aware of their presence, the faint pangs of hunger building to an all-consuming, gluttonous desire. "I do not understand, master. Am I to play the role of executioner, or do you mean for me to fulfill another role?" she muttered, frowning at the hazy sky.
"Hello, you still there?" Isabella asked, waving her hand in front of Revan's narrowed eyes, snapping her out of a trance.
Revan gave a start, holding her head with one hand and grimacing. For a moment, she thought he had felt her presence, but she must have imagined it. There was nothing left in that ruined mind that would allow him to acknowledge another other than as something to feed on. "Are you alright?" Merrill asked, her wide eyes filled with misplaced concern.
"Just thinking," she waved her off, pretending that nothing was wrong.
"And I suppose those bruises under your eyes are just from falling down some stairs too," Isabella rolled her eyes.
"...thinking about how I am going to save this world and if I even can or should," Revan finished, a high dose of pettiness leaving her unable to keep silent.
Isabella only scoffed at this, turning her attention to Merrill and saying, "Honestly, this woman is going to drive me to drink".
"But you already do drink a lot, Isabella," the girl reminded her.
"It's a joke, Kitten. Getting a straight answer out of her is like sailing against the wind," she sighed, opening the creaking, rotted door to the Hanged Man. The gang was all there already, whispering furtively to each other even though the earsplitting racket of the tavern made it unnecessary.
"Wondered what you two were getting up to," Hawke greeted them with a raise of his mug. "And I thought you'd be gone by now, Revan".
"I will be leaving soon enough. My friends are coming for me, so it is best to just stay put for now," she informed him. "What? Am I not welcome among you anymore?"
"You know how I hate lying to people. Are you really going to force me to do this?" Hawke smirked.
"Please, by all means".
"My dear friend, how could you ever question our love and devotion to you? Of course we want you around!" he said passionately, one hand clutched to his heart and the other outstretched toward the grinning woman. "Now we can have even more fun dodging templars together!"
"Yes, that Sebastian went through with it after all. I misjudged him it seems," she shrugged, looking unconcerned.
"Choir boy's just pouting because you refused to make a martyr out of him. Poor, misguided kid's been doing his best to get killed for faith and the Maker for a while now, but alas..." Varric joked.
"The stupid bastard's gone and riled up that mad dog Meredith now. Maker help us all," Anders growled, pounding his fist onto the table. "They were roughing up the alienage elves earlier, and it won't be long till they do a sweep of Darktown. And it's all your fault. Good mages are going to have to choose life as an empty husk or death because of you".
"Yes, because I informed your Chantry masters of my presence here. They were quite polite about it too...even offered me tea before condemning me as a demon or whatever nonsense they spout," she mocked.
"The imminent massacre of so many mages in no laughing matter," Anders continued in a heated tone, his eyes flashing an otherworldly blue.
"That is where you are wrong. Killing for such a ludicrous reason is the height of comedy. What a joke this world is where even the enslavement and murder of so many is a farce," Revan laughed coldly.
"Only a farce for those looking down upon us from high," Hawke remarked nonchalantly, but no one could mistake the steel in his voice. "I doubt I'll find it particularly humorous when I'm getting skewered by some templar who gets off on torturing mages".
"Obviously the templars are quite proficient in hunting down renegade mages. It's not like a revolution's being plotted by a paranoid abomination somewhere in Darktown without them noticing," Fenris remarked, always eager to make a biting comment at the expense of Anders.
"Tip them off if you are so concerned about it," the mage sneered. "I'm surprised you haven't already".
"If only I could," he growled. "Turning you in would cast suspicion on Hawke as well, as you well know given the time you spend stalking him. I can't have you dragging others down with your madness, but I can't seem to do anything about it either".
"You know he's a mage too. You tend to forget," Anders snapped back.
"Yes, but he's not weak like you, abomination," Fenris observed.
"Hey, that's enough fighting over me now. Not that I don't appreciate the sentiment though," Hawke interrupted, rolling his eyes at the bickering pair. "So...we were just telling Aveline and Anders here about our little adventure. Merrill's probably already told you Isabella, right?"
"She told me a fairy tale about starships and great wars and a whole lot of other nonsense if that's what you mean," she smirked before seeing Merrill's pout. "Oh, don't look at me like that, Kitten".
"Amazing, the whore has a brain after all," Aveline stated, earning a rude gesture in return. "Honestly Hawke, your story is a tad ridiculous. People living among the stars? Nations of the sky? I thought you had more sense".
"I didn't say I believed it," he responded defensively. "I was just telling you what I saw and what we were told. It doesn't matter much anyway since whatever that thing sealed there was no longer exists".
"Demons are often trapped between our world and the Fade and need mortals to free them. That's probably what you found there, an old and clever demon, hoping to use your body as a conduit into our world," Anders reasoned, but most did not seem particularly convinced.
"It showed me the worst moments of my life, and it definitely was not taking place in the Fade. Whatever it was, it wasn't like any demon I've ever seen," Hawke spoke darkly, a shadow seeming to fall over his eyes.
"Magic is always dangerous, and that place was filled with it. Whoever built it and whatever secrets are buried there...it's better to leave all that be," Fenris concluded, shooting glares at anyone who would dare to contradict him.
"With the holocron destroyed, there is little to fear there. What darkness remains will endure but only as an echo in the Force," Revan spoke quietly.
"Yes, yes, we've heard it all before," Hawke said in an exasperated tone. "You're very dedicated to your peculiar religion; we understand that. You can drop the mystical act".
"Better yet, you can return to this 'Republic' or whatever before we are all dragged into your feud with the Chantry," Aveline huffed, looking at Revan with distaste.
"Worry not. My friends will soon arrive to take me back, and then you can stop angsting over my presence here," she shrugged, equal parts annoyed and amused.
"Will they arrive in a floating ship kept aloft by a team of star dragons?" Anders asked wryly.
"Something like that, yes," Revan answered, unconcerned that most of them, even after seeing unexplainable technology with their own eyes, did not believe her. "But the dragons use their fire breath to propel the ship, not their wings as you were most likely thinking".
"Your tales keep getting taller, Revan. Dragons? Everyone knows flying ships use griffons," Varric deadpanned, eliciting a squeal of delight from Merrill.
"Is that true?" she asked, and even Revan could not tell if she was being serious or not.
"Whatever they arrive in, I hope it will be soon. I would be most displeased if that thing makes an early appearance, and I am forced to deal with it alone," she complained, ignoring the overly enthusiastic elven girl.
"Please don't tell me more crazy is coming after you. I think I've had enough, thank you," Hawke sighed.
"I would not describe it as crazy, as that would imply that it actually had a mind however dysfunctional. It's not your concern though, so do not worry yourself over it," she spoke softly, knowing it would do no good to inform them of the monster fast approaching. "The future will come to us in time. For now, we can only focus on what is right before us".
A/N: Sorry for being so grossly negligent in updating once again. Parts of this chapter sat around for months while I tried to decide where I wanted to take this, and now that it is complete, it ended up being mostly filler. I tried writing a more extensive Dantooine section, but after rewriting it a few times and trying different points of view, I just scrapped it. With this chapter done, or at least as done as it is going to get, I am kind of at a loss of what to do next. I have snippets of major plot points written, but alot of them do not match up with each other. I really dislike this chapter, but I cannot leave it hanging forever. I hope the next one will be better. Thanks to all who read and reviewed. MrEmperor, I liked the similarity between the Infinite Empire enslaving humans and the Tevinter Imperium destroying Arlathan, so I had Revan bring it up. Maybe I should have given less detail, less is more after all. Sebastian is being flanderized in this fic a little bit as the religious fanatic, but he is loyal to Hawke and the rest of the gang. Revan's redemption is really more of a realization of how she has changed for the worse and resolving to recapture some of her youthful spirit. Thanks for the review Gogolu. World, I thought it would be interesting to if the Tevinters who supposedly destroyed the elven homeland were actually Sith. The Force would be indistinguishable from magic to most of those in Thedas. Mattias88, Revan might get involved in a conflict with Meredith and her templars, but since this is set in early Act II, the revolution is still a ways off. Revan would probably hope both sides killed the other off anyway if it came to war. Bugsquirt, you are right in that writing about a mysterious character's past kind of takes away from their mystique, but I just thought it was so interesting to go into that I could not help myself. I wanted to show the negative traits she had as a child including her bullying and self-centered behavior that would stay with her when she became a Jedi but not in an evil way but like how a spoiled child would act. I think Merrill is interesting because she has such good intentions, but her actions bring nothing but evil. If she was a Jedi, I could see her falling to the dark side really easily. I never really used Sebastian when I played DAII, but when I did, I thought he was kind of smug superiority about him. Maybe I am just biased because he was a dlc character. As for Hawke, he is really just a side character in this. He does not even have a first name, and I mainly have him in this story to snark alongside Varric. Maybe I should give him more development. No character should be a throwaway. AhhMyLife and Taeniaea, thanks for the reviews, and I'm glad you liked the chapter. Sorry for huge author notes. As a side note, I take back what I said about the Old Republic. It is surprisingly good, even if the mmo parts do not really appeal to me. I love all the little things Bioware put in for fans of KOTOR and the story, at least the one I have played, is really engaging. If you get a chance, play it.