Chapter 19 - Ancient Confrontation
Unknown Space – 27 ABY
Kasari Lisae glanced at her wrist chronometer as she walked through the dark hallways of the Tatooine Gallows. The heavily modified Gallofree GR-75 transport had been retrofitted before departing from Yavin IV several years earlier. The numerous cargo modules within the transport had been converted into supplemental fuel cells and consumables storage, allowing it to stay in hyperspace for the better part of three years. Occasionally, they would drop out of hyperspace to recalculate astrogation routes. Other than that, all that could be seen from the ship's viewpoints for the last three years was the molten black and blue of hyperspace. With only three crewmembers on board, the Tatooine Gallows could afford to hide in the cover of lightspeed for the duration of the voyage. The last thing they needed was for the Imperial Remnant, pirates, or any other hostile group to catch wind of them.
As Kasari strolled past the room that housed a makeshift dining hall, she noticed the lights were on within it. Inside, she spotted Darvix hunched slightly over the table, a toolkit beside him. She quietly padded into the room, sitting down in a chair across from Darvix.
"Little late to be working on something, isn't it?" she asked.
Darvix looked up and smiled faintly, "Just the person I wanted to see. Mind picking up that pulse-adjustor tool in front of you?"
Kasari raised an eyebrow and took a hold of the small, cylindrical medical tool Darvix had pointed to. She couldn't help but notice that he was looking significantly healthier these days. The bags under his eyes had vanished and given way to a more vibrant appearance. He no longer seemed as pale as he used to. Kasari knew that he had drastically improved since giving up spice three years earlier. It was almost enough to make her to overlook his slightly receding hairline.
"Sorry for asking you to help with this," Darvix said as he set his left arm on the table, palm up. "Normally I have Luke assist me. I can't stand to do this on myself.
It took every moral fiber in Kasari's body not to put Darvix's word in an overly sexual context. She watched as Darvix picked up another small tool, placing it on the bottom-side of his right forearm. He depressed a button on the tool, and with a soft electronic tweet, the skin of his arm suddenly split apart turning into two small compartment doors. Darvix pulled the flaps of- what Kasari could now see clearly- prosthetic flesh open, revealing a complex set of circuitry and cybernetic components.
"I never knew you had a prosthetic arm," Kasari said.
"Well, it's not exactly something you bring up in polite conversation," Darvix replied.
"You're incapable of polite conversation."
"True enough," Darvix grinned. "Could you set the pulse-adjustor to point-two-eight and run it along this primary cyber-artery?"
Kasari nodded and did as she was instructed, "If you don't mind me asking, how exactly did part of a protocol droid end up on your torso?"
Darvix was silent for a moment before responding, "I got into an accident on my first assignment with Rogue Squadron…hell, my first assignment ever. We were in the heart of Imperial Remnant space, trying to steal a flight of prototype starfighters the Remnant was in the process of developing. While we were trying to commandeer one of the ships, we were ambushed by a Stormtrooper battalion. My…wingman and I managed to break through the ambush and steal one of the prototype fighters and an old Xg-1 Assault Gunboat. I ended up taking the Gunboat to fly cover, while my wingman took control of the prototype starfighter.
"The two of us ended up leaving ahead of the rest of the Rogues. Unfortunately, as soon as we left the planet's atmosphere we were ambushed by a Star Destroyer and full TIE Fighter complement. We managed to hold out for a few minutes before I lost weapons control and my wingman lost aft shields and picked up a few squints- TIE Interceptors in pilot lingo. I needed to buy a little more time for the hyperspace coordinates to be set, so I crossed between the squints and my wingman. Ended up taking a few shots that were intended for the prototype starfighter to my ship's underbelly. My wingman managed to escape, but I had to punch out."
"That's how you lost your arm?" Kasari asked.
"Not quite," Darvix frowned slightly. "After punching out, a piece of shrapnel cut through part of my flightsuit and left a deep cut just about my right elbow. It turns out that having something like that happen is a quick way to diagnose that your magcon field generator is defective. My flightsuit wasn't sealing properly around the wound, meaning that if I didn't do something fast I was at risk for a complete magcon failure.
"A few years earlier I had read about a pilot in a similar situation as I was in. If a defective magcon field generator wouldn't seal off a tear in the flightsuit, there was one way to promote a full seal again: A clean cut."
"You…you didn't really, did you?" Kasari asked, eyes wide.
"I had no choice," Darvix shrugged. "I ended up using my standard-issue vibroblade sever my arm from just above the elbow. Luckily the magcon field decided to seal after that, and I was picked up by the Rogues not long afterwards. Sadly, that little stunt landed me in a bacta-tank for months... Every time I see a large body of liquid I can taste that foul stuff."
Satisfied with the adjustments made, Darvix closed up his arm and flexed his hand, "Good as new."
"You were going to marry him, weren't you?" Kasari asked. "Your wingman, that is. Vik told me that you proposed to one of your squadmates while you were a Rogue."
"…him?" Darvix looked as if he had been punched in the stomach. Repeatedly.
"You know, I think its fine that you're not interested in the opposite sex," Kasari was entirely serious. "I'm happy that you're comfortable with yourself."
Darvix held up his hands, "Hold on. Vik told you I'm gay?"
"Well, he didn't quite put it like that," Kasari admitted. "He seemed to imply that you might score from both sides of the shockball field, but I'm pretty sure he was just trying to help you save face."
"Well," Darvix admitted, "he's right."
Kasari could only stare at Darvix; despite knowing him for ten years, she had completely misread Darvix, "You mean you really are…"
"Bisexual?" Darvix asked. "Yes. Not one of those awkward teenaged experimental phases either. Have been my entire life. Hell, while I was in the Starfighter Academy I was steady with another guy for about a year."
"And you really were going to marry-"
"No," Darvix interrupted. "I was engaged to a biologically genetic human female; much like yourself… at least I think you're a biologically genetic human female. You're not holding out on me, are you?"
Kasari brushed off the question. This is one of the few times she had ever seen Darvix quite this open, and she was going to capitalize on the opportunity.
"Who was she?"
"Her name was Cheriss ke Hanadi," Darvix said, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. "One of the first pilots from Adumar to make it through the Academy and was assigned to Rogue Squadron about a year before I became a greenhorn pilot with them. Made a name for herself within a couple of months, racked up more kills in that short amount of time than I did in my entire three years with the Rogues.
"We didn't exactly get off to a very good start after I was assigned to the squadron. If you thought you and I argued a lot, you should have seen the two of us go at it. She once got so mad at me she jumped over a mess hall table and knocked me on the ground to wail on me. Broke my nose and cheekbone."
"And you wanted to marry her?"
"Never been so sure of anything in my life," Darvix said. "Yes we argued, but we also had a connection I've never shared with someone before. You could even see it when we were flying. She could anticipate my every move, almost as if we were piloting the same craft. Outside of the battlefield we were so in sync that we were finishing each other's conversations…I don't think I can really describe how close we became."
"What happened?" Kasari asked.
"The last thing I ever expected," Darvix said. "It was just a damn routine patrol. The Rogues were temporarily in-between assignments, so we were flying a scheduled scout recon and patrol ahead of our command ship. While we were out there, we were ambushed by a wing of cloaked Remnant Phantoms. Somewhere in the chaos, my top starboard and bottom port thrusters were hit, as well as my avionics controls. The Remnant fighters took another pass while my X-Wing was sitting crippled. During all of this I was trying frantically to get a slip-shod hyperspace vector worked out so I could escape, but I was running out of time.
"Cheriss broke off from her flight to assist, despite orders not to. I got on the comm and told her to turn back, but she had shut off her communications array. Just as a Phantom came out of cloak to fire on me, Cheriss' X-Wing appeared between us. She took a set of lasers to her ship's underbelly and was instantly destroyed. Split seconds later, my R2 unit took control of my X-Wing and forced me into hyperspace.
"Really, the only solace I got was that she was likely killed instantly," Darvix said with a sigh. "She wound up being killed by pulling the same stunt I used to save her a few years earlier."
Kasari looked straight across at Darvix, "When are you going to forgive yourself?"
"I'm not sure," Darvix said, taken aback by the question. "Not a day goes by where I don't think about what happened to her. If she had listened to orders, she'd be the one alive and I'd be the one joining Carth Onasi's locker. I'll likely go to the grave thinking that her death is squarely on my shoulders."
"You know she wouldn't want you to keep punishing yourself," Kasari said.
"I know," Darvix said meekly. "I know."
Kasari stood and walked towards Darvix, placing a hand on his shoulder, "At some point, we all have to let the past go and move on…as much as we don't want to. Go get some sleep, Vik says we'll be at our destination within the next twenty-four hours."
"You know," Darvix said as he looked up at Kasari, "if things had been different… our relationship would probably have become much closer."
"I know, Dap," Kasari said with a small smile, "but things are the way they are for a reason."
Nodding, Darvix stood as well, glancing at Kasari for a moment. Neither one of them were much in the mood for words anymore. All that needed to be said had been said. The only thing left were actions that held far more meaning than words ever could. Darvix reached forward and held Kasari's chin between his thumb and index finger. Without so much as a whisper, he closed his eyes and leaned forward pressing his lips to hers. The two remained locked in place for a long while. To them, it felt like only a few fleeting moments.
"Just because things are the way they are now," Darvix said, "doesn't mean that the future will continue that status quo…The Galaxy is forever changing, even if we're too stubborn to change with it."
Quietly, Darvix left the mess hall, leaving Kasari behind. She realized that Darvix was right, and perhaps that was another one of his so-called truths of the Galaxy. No one was immune from the ebbs and flow of change, not even one Darvix Zorvan. Finally, she was beginning to understand what Master Skywalker had seen in Darvix all those years ago. Darvix was an incredibly flawed, but incredibly insightful man. Most of all, he was a teacher who wanted only the best for those below him.
Perhaps that was why Kasari was in love with him.
***
As Darvix stared through the forward viewport, he could feel every muscle in his body tensing. Three years spent entirely in hyperspace was about to come to an end. If the information that he had found on Lehon was correct, they would soon be seeing an ancient space station; the last known resting place of Darth Revan and the Exile. If the information was erroneous, then the last three years would have been utterly wasted. His hands tensed around the arm rests of his command chair.
"Reversion to real-space in two minutes," Vik said from his seat at the astrogations console.
"It all comes down to this, doesn't it?" Kasari asked.
"I suppose it does," Darvix mused. "Feels like we're going all-in with a lousy hand of Sabacc cards."
"I prefer Pazaak," Vik replied.
"Of course you do," Darvix said. "You have the single worst Sabacc face in the known Galaxy."
"Perhaps," Vik admitted as he glanced at the chronometer on his console.
Darvix leaned back in his seat again. A sense of uneasiness and fear was beginning to creep into him. As they moved closer and closer to their target, his anxiety levels increased. As he stretched out with the Force, Darvix could feel the all-too familiar presence of the Dark Side. Was it the shadows of Darth Revan and the Exile? Probably, but what if it was something else entirely?
"Dap," Kasari said, "I have a bad feeling about this."
"Me too," Darvix said in turn. "Something isn't right here."
"You'd better figure it out quick," Vik responded. "Reversion to real-space in ten seconds."
The black and blue of hyperspace suddenly gave way. For the first time in three years, the viewports were filled with the dotted black of real-space. Darvix couldn't deny that seeing open space again was refreshing. Prolonged time in the tunnels of hyperspace always made him feel somewhat claustrophobic. Darvix glanced down at the console in front of him, bringing up the forward sensor readouts. The coordinates were right, but was the station here?"
"Reading a large structure about fifty clicks from here," Kasari said. "Showing active life-support systems in place."
"Strange that there's a station out here in the middle of nowhere," Vik said. "No signs of any nearby planets. This thing's all alone."
"Bring us in," Darvix said. "Looks like there's a hanger bay entrance that's sealed off…There is a docking module on the far side, however. Let's see if it still works."
***
With the Tatooine Gallows docked to the station, the three travelers ventured through the airlock to step foot on the station that was perhaps the final resting place of the notorious Darth Revan and Jedi Exile. They had entered into what appeared to be a storage area, filled with empty crates and containers. The moment Darvix set foot in the room, red emergency lights dimly lit the area. Darvix made his way towards a door at the other side of the room, carefully stepping over stray boxes along the way.
"This place gives me the creeps," Vik said, blaster in hand. "I'm half expecting some reanimated corpse to appear out of the shadows and go for my brains."
"Been watching those cheap horror flicks again?" Darvix asked as he reached the door's control panel. "I told you to lay off them. I'm not going to hold your hand again if you have another nightmare while you're sleeping... Besides, we all know the reanimated corpses would go for my brain matter first."
Darvix began making his way towards what he believed to be the direction of the station's hanger. If the holovideo he had seen on Lehon was to be believed, Darth Revan's flagship freighter would be resting there, waiting for his arrival. The hallways, like the room they had arrived in, were marginally lit, giving the entire station an aura of mysteriousness. Even Darvix couldn't deny the fact that he was starting to feel edgy.
"Dap, you want to take a look at this?" Vik said.
Darvix walked towards Vik, who was standing in front of an open supply closet. Within it, Darvix could see what looked to be a primitive protocol droid. The droid's skeleton was brownish in color, but other than that, the droid did not appear to be that old. It almost appeared to resemble a modern combat droid. Tilting his head to the side, Darvix moved towards the droid, attempting to find a way to power it on. Behind the droid's neck, Darvix could feel a switch of some sort. Without hesitating, the flipped the switch. Suddenly, the droid's eyes lit up with a blood red glow and its head snapped to attention.
"Query: Who are you, organic meatbag?" The droid asked.
Darvix blinked and stared at the droid a moment before responding, "My name is Darvix Zorvan. You might know me as the Descendant."
"Exasperated acknowledgement: I was afraid of that, I was hoping you wouldn't show up for a few thousand more years."
"Care to tell me who you are?" Darvix asked. "As well as an explanation of what a relatively modern droid is doing in an uninhabited space station that is thousands of years old?"
"Resigned explanation: I am HK-47, a Hunter-Killer assassination droid constructed by Darth Revan during the Mandalorian War," The droid explained. "Further explanation: My AI has existed for thousands of years, but transferred from body to body during that time as I drifted through the Galaxy. I ventured back to this location shortly after the event you organic meatbags call the 'Battle of Yavin.'"
"Can you lead us to the Ebon Hawk?" Darvix asked.
"Observation: I see that you have brought other meatbags with you," The droid said. "Question: Would you like me to kill them before leading you to the Ebon Hawk?"
"That will be quite alright, HK-47," Darvix replied.
"Resigned acknowledgement: Very well. Follow me, Meatbag."
***
Darvix could only stare in amazement. There, in the middle of the hanger was Darth Revan's flagship: The Ebon Hawk. She was a Dynamic-class star freighter, the YT-1300 Corellian transport of the Mandalorian War era. Nearly four-thousand years old, and it was still in one piece. The hull was covered in blaster scoring, showing off the many battles that it had no doubt been through. The saucer-shaped ship had no doubt been a valuable companion to Revan through the years of its service. Hopefully, somewhere on board the ancient freighter would be the records Darvix had spent ten years searching for.
"She's beautiful," Darvix said.
"What a piece of junk!" Kasari said, exasperated. "We came all the way here for this?"
"Indignant defense: The Ebon Hawk was the fastest freighter in the Republic," HK-47 explained. "Veiled insult: It is perhaps too difficult for your organic meatbag brain to comprehend the marvels of this ship."
"You know, I'm starting to like this droid," Darvix said. "Your pension for insults is remarkable."
"Grateful acknowledgement: Thank you, organic meatbag."
Dap took a step toward the Ebon Hawk before freezing in place. Beneath the ship, he saw the outline of what appeared to be a human figure. Darvix felt a cold hand clutch his heart as he heard the familiar snap-hiss of a lightsaber in the distance, followed by the appearance of a red blade. They weren't alone.
"Why didn't you tell me someone else was on this station?" Darvix demanded.
"Explanation: You didn't ask, meatbag," the droid replied.
Darvix swore aloud and looked back at Kasari and Vik, "Stay back. Vik, if Kasari tries to help, shoot her in the leg."
"Request: May I take that honor, meatbag?" HK-47 asked.
"Shut up!" Darvix yelled as he approached the figure standing beneath the Ebon Hawk. "I am Jedi Master Darvix Zorvan, a representative of the Jedi Order of the New Republic. I do not wish to engage in combat with you, stranger."
A low, gravelly voice responded to him, "I am Darth Bane, follower of the True Sith Order. I know precisely who you are, Descendant."