Chapter 25

Darkness Beckons

Her black hood concealing her face and searing orange eyes in shadows, Clara walked through the long passageway leading to the chamber of the Emperor in order to answer his summons. Two rows of Sith guards garbed in stark black armor formed an honor guard, standing shoulder to shoulder and saluting the yet-aspiring empress by extending their shouldered rifles forward in arched fashion as she passed by them.

Her surroundings were utterly silent, save for the low humming of the ship's powerful engines which emanated from below. Every step she took was as silent as the last, and not a voice could be heard.

But strangely, it seemed to her that somehow, in the distance, she could hear the cries and jubilant chanting of a crowd. It was deafly silent at first, but continued to grow louder…and louder yet, with every soft click her heels made against the metallic floor below. Looking forward with curiosity, Clara unexpectedly found herself yearning for the door which lay ahead of her. The sounds, the shouts, the voices of hope; they all seemed so familiar to her. A blazing silver light shone from the gap of the twin sliding doors of the entrance of the chamber, and looked as if it was yearning and screaming for release, begging her to pass through.

She looked at the troopers, wondering just how in the name of the Force they could be so oblivious to the strange phenomenon that she was witnessing. In spite of the radiant light that shone against their visors, the troopers did not stir in the slightest.

Her footsteps quickened, her once-calm heartbeat beginning to pound faster and with more intensity. A soft and familiar voice seemed to speak to her, calling her name and enticing her with an invitation she just couldn't refuse. Reaching the door at last, a sigh of relief escaped her lips as a blinding flash of light engulfed her vision.

-o-

"You've finally made it," Revan snickered under his masked visage which drew the curious gaze of the thousands of men and women below the lavish balcony stage of the Supreme Chancellor himself. His secret lover, having rushed to be with him following a speech of her own at a gathering of a far lesser scale in the western parts of Coruscant, smirked quirkily back at him after stepping into the empty gap that was left between Revan and Meetra Surik.

"Sorry about that," she apologized with a grin. "Receiving a pass by the security here is a total bitch." She looked forward at Malak, who was in the process of delivering a stirring speech to the many people who had crammed and filled the city streets to listen to his oratory, but most importantly to that of Revan. Malak's voice resounded in charisma, devotion and the desire to do good for the Republic, and drew the admiration of the hopeful recruits to the cause, as well as the awe of the civilians who could only hope for Revan's success in the ongoing struggle against the Mandalorian threat. A beam of sunlight seemed to shine down upon the podium from a gap in the cloudy skies above, almost as if it was a good omen.

After catching her breath following her hasty rendezvous with Revan, Clara looked to her right to see dozens of Galactic Senators seated alongside the Supreme Chancellor Tol Cressa who was situated front and center of the distinguished guests at the rally. She let out a puff of disdain at the men and women whom she regarded as close to useless, often giving themselves a pat on the back after Senate sessions which would be filled with nothing but arguments and no solutions. Fortunately for her and their cause, the politicians did not notice it in the slightest, for they were too preoccupied with the fiery words of promise and better tomorrows that came from Malak's lips. The same could be said of the drivers who composed the sea of airspeeders which came to a grinding halt in the skies above, finding themselves captivated by the heartfelt message which rang in their ears.

"The Mandalorians scour through the worlds of the Republic, burning and slaughtering everything in their wake," the Jedi Knight exclaimed, his naturally booming and commanding voice being carried to the farthest ranks of the gathered crowd. "And even while they do so, the Jedi Council has refused to act. They have finally sanctioned the war, and yet they still sit idly by while our people are dying in the millions!"

A resonant jeer erupted throughout the crowd aimed at the Masters of the Council, and even from some of the Padawans and Jedi Knights who had mixed in with the crowd in the hopes of having the opportunity to hear the Revanchist himself speak.

"I must say, Revan," Clara mused, twirling her rich red hair with her fingers, the sight of which alone could be enough to sway men of the weakest character to join their cause out of primal impulse, "you have a most ingenious way of recruiting cannon fodder."

"Hm?" he could be heard chuckling at her from beneath his mask as he turned his head, his arms remaining crossed in order to maintain his commanding posture.

Clara whispered to him as Malak continued on with his inspiring speech, his eyes not troubled by the blazing flashes of the cameras which never stopped even for a moment. "From what I've heard, most Republic recruitment efforts came down to forcing unwilling conscripts to enlist in the armed services by picking their names out of a rigged lottery system and dragging them away by the ears. But just look over there." She directed her eyes to the numerous enlisting booths which had been set up all across the city square and attracted lines as far as the eye can see. Among their ranks were soldiers, active and even retired, and Jedi whose appearance ranged from confident and competent Jedi Knights to teenage Padawans who sneakily tried to sign up by taking advantage of the absent eyes of their Masters.

"I hope none of the Knight recruits are as gorgeous as you, my love," Revan laughed quietly, being cautious not to make noticeable movements due to the cameras he knew to be fixed upon him. "We may have trouble ahead if they are."

"Hah! I don't think so!" she dismissed, not caring about the tired look she received from Meetra who stood next to them. But then, as she looked around from enlistment booth to booth on all corners of the city square, she was met with the sight of a woman who just may prove Revan right. She could still see the crowd cheering, some of them at the top of their lungs, but their voices seemed to die down in her ears. She soon found herself captivated by the mystery that stood before her.

The woman's striking grey eyes looked straight at her and Revan, striking a small streak of anxiety into the characteristically fearless heart of the Clara. Her face radiated with beauty, her rosy lips identical in color with her distinctive Jedi robes. Judging by the small braid clipped against the locks of her hair which was tied into two neat pigtails, Clara could see that the girl was but a young Padawan, inexperienced and lacking knowledge in the Force.

And yet, something struck her about this girl. Her appearance and status as a mere Padawan was enough to persuade any powerful Jedi Knight to dismiss her abilities and powers. But there was something there…a mystery about her that Clara simply couldn't get her mind around. All around the girl, civilians, soldiers and Jedi Knights and Padawans alike flocked to whatever recruitment booth they could set their eyes on.

But not her.

She simply stood there, her eyes fixed upon Clara and Revan, like a hunter bird staring at its prey. The look in her eyes told Clara all that there was to know about the girl: strong-willed, not easily persuaded or manipulated, always questioning, and ever so proud.

There was something about this girl, and Clara most certainly did not like it.

"Clara?"

She blinked the moment she heard Revan snap her out of her thoughts. Malak was now close to the end of his speech as he turned to look back at his esteemed leader, gesturing with his hand towards him.

"Mph, nothing," the beauty of blood-red hair gruffly spoke back, convincing herself that there was no cause for worry. "It's your turn to shine. Go get 'em, tiger."

Her eyes couldn't see it, but Clara knew that beneath his mask, Revan was grinning at her as he replied. "I always do."

Joining in the applause along with Meetra, Malak and the politicians who clapped as Revan approached the podium step by step, Clara looked proudly upon her secret fiancée who strode forward with all the confidence and optimism of a true leader. A thunderous applause ripped through the crowd when Revan finally approached the dozens of microphones which were fixed upon the stage, looking all around him at the adoring populace of Coruscant as he waved in almost regal fashion. All eyes were now on Revan; not only those of the countless people who packed the city streets, but by trillions of free individuals scattered all across the galaxy.

The Supreme Chancellor, a man of 53 years, dark brown eyes and graying black hair, grimaced ever so slightly as he looked with awe at the Jedi Knight, whose charisma and popularity he could never hope to emulate. Evident of the latter fact was his latest public performance rating, which currently stood teetering at a dismal 14% approve and 81% disapprove, according to the news polls.

The crowd was driven to near hysteria as Malak vacated space for Revan and moved back to join Clara and Meetra behind him. Cameramen everywhere went ballistic with enthusiasm, forcing drivers of some airspeeders who remained uninterested in Revan's speech to come to a grinding halt, for fear of being the victims of accidents caused by the blinding flashes of light which stretched on like a sea. Banners and electronic signs flew up all across the crowd, and several news broadcast cameras focused their sights on a beautiful brunette civilian who eagerly held up a sign which read, 'MARRY ME REVAN!'

Many in the crowd burst into laughter as Revan gave an almost cheeky point of his finger, followed by a wave of his hand at the woman, who appeared to be most pleased as she blew an air kiss at him before lowering her sign in order to rest her arms. Clara chuckled and rolled her eyes at the sight, knowing her lover's playboy attitude was something in him that she could never hope to change.

Her mind reverting back to the young Padawan who caught her attention, she looked at the location where the girl had stood, only to find that the brunette was no longer there. It was evidence enough that at least one person possessed inner mental fortitude that enabled her to avoid being possessed by the charms that virtually enslaved so many to Revan's cause.

At long last, a resounding silence settled amongst the people in the crowd. All voices were hushed down to nothingness as they all tweaked their ears forward, the speakers attached atop steel towers turned up in volume so that all could hear the voice of Revan. Not even a cry of a baby could be heard, let alone a single whisper.

"My fellow citizens of the Republic, and my friends," he spoke loudly and with the firmness that drew so many men and women to his swelling ranks. The speech synthesizer he had specifically incorporated into his mask gave a ringing effect to his voice, captivating all with his words. "While I come before you today with the most fervent hope in my heart, I also come before you plagued by the most crushing of sorrows. I have traveled far and wide across the worlds of the Outer Rim, and have seen firsthand the sheer devastation and merciless wrath released upon innocent men, women and children by the savage Mandalorian invaders."

The crowd voiced their near-unanimous disapproval of the threat which they despised with indescribable passion with a chorus of boos and jeers, expressing the fact that they shared Revan's sentiment as he continued.

"As I speak, brave men and women of the Republic fleet fight desperately against the encroachers, persisting to the last man and vessel in the lush jungles of Fenris, the wild plains of Teryne, and the cold ice-covered mountains of Dehaka. Their numbers may be inadequate and dwindling, but their hearts are as resolute as steel. They know that despite all the terrible tragedies and losses we may be forced to endure, that the liberty and freedom that the Republic embodies is worth every life that is given on the field of battle.

"The Mandalorians are led by a heartless, soulless monster, insatiable in his lust for blood and plunder. Now this bloodthirsty, vainglorious guttersnipe, who styles himself as Mandalore the Ultimate, must indulge himself in the crude pleasure he derives from slaughter, pillage and devastation. His armies are vast and mighty, but, united in spirit and audacity, I have every reason to believe that we shall weather the storm which faces us.

"The destiny of free peoples is not measured by material computation. When great forces are on the move in the world, we learn that we are spirits – not animals. The Mandalorians depend on us to cower in fear and doubt, for it is fear and doubt on our part that feeds their hunger for conquest. But I say to you now, my dear people: after many months of atrocities and terrible hardships, we have finally learned. We have learned that weakness on our part only invites aggression. We have learned that in order to secure the peace, we must remain ever vigilant, and not for a single moment allow ourselves to fall into complacency, as we have following the defeat of Exar Kun. For only when our arms are sufficient beyond doubt, can we be certain beyond doubt that they will never be employed. Time and time again, we have been reminded that peace can only be maintained through our strength and eternal vigilance.

"For too long have our elected officials, blinded by their ignorance of history and lack of common sense, failed to realize that a lack of preparedness on our part in the face of unrestrained aggression by those who mean us ill will can only lead to war." Another jeer rippled through the crowd, and unsettled frowns stretched across all of the politicians' faces as the cameras unmercifully focused upon them, before returning to capture Revan in all his charismatic glory. "Who, then, should we depend and rely on in order to maintain the peace? Our elected officials?"

"No!" cried the crowd in a deafening chant.

"The diplomats who make failed attempt after failed attempt in their vain efforts to engage in dialogue and diplomacy with the monsters who aim to cut our throats?"

"NO!"

Clara smirked with bemusement at the politicians and military officers who showed signs of growing hot under the collar. Their eyes were filled with frustration, their feet moving about uneasily, and they looked almost as if they wished to leap from their seats and run away back to their homes in shame.

"And you are precisely right!" Revan shouted, extending his clenched fist towards the crowd before swiftly retracting it back to his side. "The ones who must ultimately shoulder the burdens created by the failure of our elected officials is we the people! We the people are the ones who continue to die in vain as incompetent bureaucrats stifle the effectiveness of our armed forces with their inability to act! We the people must therefore be the ones who are willing to defend our homes and families from the marauders! We the people must be the ones who take a firm and resolute stand, and let our enemies know that there is a price we will not pay, and there is a point beyond which they must not advance!"

The crowd erupted into indescribable jubilation, their screams, whistles and claps simply deafening to any who heard it, whether it be in person or through the HoloNet broadcast. Reporters and journalists lined every city street, milking whatever footage they could acquire of Revan and struggled against the tide of people who constantly moved forward in the hopes of getting a better view of their savior.

Basking in the adoration that he was given by the crowd, Revan wrapped up his speech with a fiery message. "And so, my dear friends, the fate of the Republic lies in your hands. With every volunteer who signs his or her name to join our ranks, our forces are bolstered and our resolution ever stronger. Will you join me in my quest to protect this great Republic that we so love and cherish from the bottom of our hearts? Will you join in order to protect your sons and daughters and deliver to them the shining future that they so deserve? I have no doubt that the answer is clear in your mind.

"And so I say to you, my beloved people: ask not what the Republic can do for you, but what you can do for the Republic!"

Taking a modest bow to the people he swore to protect, Revan turned away from the cheering and whistling crowd and departed the stage with his Jedi followers who smiled at him proudly. A nervous and disapproving gaze was given to him by many of the politicians, including the Supreme Chancellor, as they reluctantly clapped their hands in order to avoid the backlash in popularity polls that would have followed had they not. The crowd went into a frenzy, desperate to take whatever final pictures they could before Revan vanished from their sight and returned to the elevator to descend to the first floor, so that he and his companions could move to different parts of the sprawling metropolis to spread their message. The hope and optimism from the people was overwhelming, and they could almost smell it in the air. Thousands flocked to whatever recruitment booth or center they could find, so enthusiastic that some even argued, pushed and shoved at each other as they did so.

"Another hour, another twenty thousand who join our ranks," Clara smiled at her lover as the lift took them downwards ten levels to the base floor hangar. "You're one hell of an orator, Revan. To think that you gave that speech without using a script, as well."

"Things come out of your mouth when you're in the moment, Clara," Revan chuckled back at her, removing his mask and breathing in a puff of fresh air – something he did only in the presence of his three friends who were with him at present.

"This only serves to frustrate me, Revan," Malak voiced his irritation with a grunt. "Every moment we waste here on Coruscant and not serving on the front lines means that lives are being unnecessarily wasted on the frontier."

"You're right in a way, Squint," Revan said, using the nickname he loved so well because he knew it caused his friend frustration. "Lives are being wasted on the front, but do you honestly believe that we can turn the tide by ourselves alone? We need every recruit we can get, and so I am taking action to accomplish just that." He then looked to his left, stirred by Meetra's virtually emotionless facial expression and downward-looking gaze. "You alright, Meetra? You look as if you'd seen a ghost."

Clara smirked. "Doesn't she always? The hell's the matter with you, girl?"

"Nothing," Meetra replied, bringing her head up to make herself appear to be more optimistic. "Just feel bad about leaving my class of younglings behind, I guess."

"Always, always, you're always worrying about those damn kids of yours," Clara clicked her tongue, giving her fellow Jedi a nudge of her elbow in the arm. "Sometimes it makes me wonder if you would have been better off running away from the order and actually having little monsters of your own with some scoundrel."

"That's enough, you two," Revan muttered tiredly. "By the Force, you're always bitching at each other." He shook his head with slight ire, then gave his followers new orders. "Malak, travel to the southwestern parts of this district and deliver another speech of your own. Meetra, the same goes to you in the north. Clara and I will go together to the eastern city block and I shall deliver another speech there."

"But why must she go with you, instead of going out to another part of the city by herself?" Malak asked.

"You know I make a poor orator due to my delicate voice. I'd be tired after speaking loudly for just 30 seconds," Clara smirked at him, then twirled her lush hair in her fingers. "But I make a hell of a source of eye-candy. You might not have noticed it while you were speaking, Squint, but believe me when I say that thousands of men were looking solely at me the whole time before going off straight to recruitment booths." She gave Meetra a teasing wink. "You'll catch up with your ability to charm others soon, my dear."

Meetra merely rolled her eyes as she shook her head, for she was used to acting in a much more serious way than her long-time friend. After hearing the ting of the elevator which finished its descent to the ground floor, Revan donned his mask once more before he and his friends walked out into the busy setting which was crowded with defense department personnel who could only afford to take a quick look at them before diverting their attention back to their duties.

Giving his two friends a nod as they departed, Revan pulled his hood further down his head, so as to avoid the eyes of people who would slow his movement to his intended destination. Fortunately for him, the public knew him only by his mask and not his robes or true face.

Taking advantage of the knowledge of the secret back door of the building complex that was given to him by the Supreme Chancellor's security team, Revan and Clara departed without incident into a back alleyway. A sigh came from Revan's lips as he was gladdened by the fact that he did not have to put up with the frenzied mob that would have had him signing autographs for an entire day had he exited through the front doors. The two lovers kept their faces and hair well-concealed beneath their hoods, thanking the murky clouds above for making their efforts at secrecy one that would not be questioned by the general populace they would come across.

"I don't know how long my voice can take before it gives out," Revan joked as he removed his mask and put it within his robe, allowing his face to deceive the ignorant people and prevent them from knowing his identity which would have been obvious had he kept his trademark mask on.

"What – want me to take over for you?" Clara chuckled, nudging him on the shoulder.

"I don't want you to strain yourself," Revan frowned at her. "It may look easy, but believe me when I say it's a lot of hard work. My lungs feel like they're on fire after that shouting session."

"You know, I could make things easier for you. A lot easier," Clara smiled suggestively at him, holding his hand warmly in hers as they entered the busy city streets which were filled with such jubilation and cheer, that they were almost completely ignored by the people who walked by them.

"How?" Revan asked.

"Oh, I don't know…," she grinned. "Rogue magazine, perhaps?"

"Clara!" Revan rebuked her jokingly.

"You may be confident in your oratory," Clara looked at him with playful eyes, "but you can't deny that a lot of the men who signed up did so because they were enamored by my peerless charms. Aren't you lucky to have such a wonderful fiancée, Revan?"

Revan sighed and shrugged, knowing that she was right. "Yeah…I'll give you that one."

"What can I say? My curves bring all the boys to the yard. And to the recruitment booth, at that."

Clara felt a rush of desire come over her the moment Revan squeezed her hand lovingly in response. She could already see the bright future they would share together after putting the brutal war to an end. A life of peace and quiet, not caring what the Jedi Council thought of their relationship. As soon as the final gun fell silent, there wouldn't be two Jedi Knights, but only a man and his beloved wife.

"You know," Clara whispered with a tender heartfelt smile as they continued to walk together. "I've been thinking about what we can do after this war finishes. I know it's going to be a long time until then, but I can't help but wonder at the possibilities."

"Well, we have to win the war first, don't we?" Revan laughed softly at his optimistic lover.

"I'm a dreamer, Revan – you know that. But honestly, after we defeat the Mandalorians and return home, I'd love for us to move together into the house my late mother left for me on Naboo. The countryside is very peaceful and quiet there; a perfect place to settle and live."

Revan brought her attention to more short-term matters. "We'd still have the Council to deal with, though…"

"You'd already made up your mind about that when we were eighteen on Dantooine, Revan. Don't you remember?" Clara elbowed him in the side. "But in all honesty, I think Naboo would be a wonderful place to go to, to just escape it all after everything's finished. We can have children and then quietly grow old together: no more war, no more chaos. It's always been a dream of mine ever since we first fell for one another. I couldn't care less if the Council strips us both of the Force, so long as we can be together."

Revan snickered. "You make everything sound as if it'll turn out just perfect, like a fairytale."

Clara looked up at him and smiled. "A girl can dream, can't she?"

Looking forward to spot the tall building at the top of which he hoped to make another public appeal to listeners to join the war effort, Revan walked with Clara in the direction of the glass doors. However, after he ascended the staircase leading to the entrance, he saw from the corner of his eye a presence which would only serve to dampen his spirits as he discretely released Clara's warm hand from his own.

The woman's stare was cold, and her icy-blue eyes only accentuated that fact. Her frosty demeanor was forever etched in her pale complexion, and her platinum silver hair glistened under what little sunlight managed to escape through the clouds. She wore the pristine white robes of a Jedi Archivist, giving her the appearance of a shimmering source of light wherever she went. A single look upon the beautiful and fair Jedi Master was enough to send a shiver down the spine of any ordinary man, reminiscent of winter's chill.

Heeding the message from Revan's body language, Clara exhaled discretely out of frustration before forcing a smile as she and Revan turned to face the Jedi Master. "Master Atris," she smiled with a slight bow. "Perhaps the only one in the Jedi Order whom I actually have to apply extra makeup to look better than at times. What an honor."

Atris puffed with indignation, sickened by the mere presence of the ones whom she deemed heretics to the doctrines of the Order. "Are you enjoying yourselves?" she asked smugly. "Relishing the sight of volunteers whose shared destiny is to become cannon fodder to fuel your vainglorious ego?"

Revan remained stubborn and idealistic as ever as he replied with a controlled tone, cautious so as to avoid attracting unwanted attention from passers-by. "They are ready to lay down their lives for the cause. We will set forth to protect all that is good in the Republic – even people like yourself, who remain personally staunchly opposed to our mission despite your sanctioning our crusade."

"Spare me your deceit and flirtations, Revan," Atris snapped. "I shall have none of it. Just look at you; setting off into war, which will inevitably take you into deep places unknown and dangerous. Letting your emotions get the better of you, despite everything the Jedi Code has taught you. Allowing countless others' lives to be needlessly put at risk as a result of your recklessness and zeal."

"Then just what precisely do you propose that we do, Master?" Revan argued with confidence, taking one step towards Atris who slightly withdrew in response. "Just be content to sit back and watch while our people's blood continues to be spilt? You and the Council continue to doubt us and place haughty and ill-advised trust in your own vaunted perception of wisdom that only stifles your ability to act when action is most needed!"

"And just what assurance do you have that your actions will be for the better?" Atris shot back. "What guarantee do you have that your character will not be changed so radically during the course of your crusade, that you will not become the very tyrant that you hope to vanquish?"

Revan looked at her with determined eyes. "I am the hope of countless men, women and children everywhere. I am the hope of the entire galaxy. I shall succeed, or die trying. You and the rest of the Council are content to sit back and watch until things turn sour and it will become too late to save the Republic. But I tell you this: extremism in the defense of liberty is no vice; moderation in the pursuit of justice is no virtue."

Atris' bottom lip pursed up as she bit the inner skin of her lip in frustration. Her heart begged and screamed at her to give in to her internal urges and do what she knew in her conscience to be right, and yet her heart was constrained by the cold, calculating nature of her mind. She remained ever undaunted and unstirred by Revan's vibrant words.

"And thus, apathy is death," a voice came from behind Revan, ringing with wisdom and insight that the younger Atris couldn't hope to match.

The three Jedi turned to see approaching them a woman dressed in a simple, unassuming brown robe, her hood covering her atrophied and pale eyes that were of no further use to her. Despite being what many would consider to be a still-healthy and relatively young age at 40, the distinctly aged and shriveling appearance of her face which reflected her intense degree of focus and dependency on the Force was enough to deceive the eyes of any onlooker. She stopped in front of Revan and Clara, glaring not with her eyes but with her heart and mind at Atris who stood opposite.

"You…," Atris seethed, her eyes narrowing with contempt as she looked upon her fellow Jedi Master whom she wished with all her heart could be banished forever from the Jedi Order for her heresy.

"What a hypocritical fool you are, my dear girl," Kreia mocked with the slightest of smiles. "You slavishly fall into step behind the mantras and dictates of your senior fellow on the High Council, believing yourself to be of higher moral standards than those you seek to judge. And yet, your hellish obsession with criticizing and condemning Revan and his followers goes against the most fundamental and basic of all the Order's teachings."

"Yes, Master Atris. Why is that?" Clara snidely quipped. "Whatever happened to 'There is no emotion; there is peace?"

Atris scowled at the temptress who dared mock her. "Rich, coming from one who is as impatient as yourself. The true threat still has not presented itself, and you wish to rush headlong into the thick of battle without as much as a second thought?"

Kreia rebuked her. "And just what good do you believe will come about as a result of sitting idly and doing nothing? I have told you before, and I shall tell you again – apathy is death. Neither Revan nor I doubt in our hearts that the Mandalorian threat may very well just be but a minor speck, a vanguard if you will, of a threat that is far greater. But who do you hope to help and protect merely by stubbornly remaining in your peaceful chambers, while others go to die in your place?

"When will the day come when you realize the folly of your refusal to act? When the Mandalorians descend upon Corsin? Berchest? Alderaan? The gates of Coruscant itself? And will you be prepared to accept the burden of knowing that billions of lives were needlessly lost, and the Republic and all the freedoms it embodies destroyed by your pride and vanity?"

Atris remained silent, although the trembling of her lower lip told Revan and Clara that a war more intense than that which was currently being fought was raging inside the Jedi Master's heart. The torrent of emotions carried over to Kreia, who smirked as she continued.

"So I see the truth, then. Your heart screams for release, yet your head keeps it chained like the beast it is. Your mind forbids you to go, but your soul yearns to join the one whom you wish to protect more than all others who go with her."

Atris glared at Kreia, her hand clenching into a fist. "You know nothing of which you speak…"

"Oh, but I do," Kreia insisted, her past pupils looking at her intently. "Your tongue may seek to deceive, but words mean nothing to one such as I, for the sheer flood of emotions which emanate from you tell me everything I must know. In your soul I see the face of that dear young boy who once saved your life, his only reward prior to his untimely death being that he received a mere glimmer of the affection he sought from you.

"Alone you have been all your life, Atris. As such, the presence of a friend means more to you than all the jewels of the galaxy. I know that you fear for her safety. I know the anguish and concern that you feel festering deep in your heart, fearing that she may never return. You may seek momentary respite from that crushing sorrow by criticizing Revan all you like, but soon, when everyone you've ever loved and trusted is gone and the darkness closes in on you, you will be forced to reap the very tragedies that you yourself have sown. Your apathy shall hence lead you to your grave, from which there is no escape."

"Enough," Atris angrily puffed at Kreia, a teardrop threatening to form against her eyelids. "I shall hear no more from the likes of you." She turned to take one last look at Revan and Clara before departing. "Do what you will. I can only pray that should any lives be needlessly expended during this war, that it will be yours."

"Hell of a good luck message for people who are going off to war," Clara remarked, wincing at the Jedi Master who disappeared into the crowd.

"Listen to me carefully, both of you," Kreia said sternly, and almost immediately she had her students' undivided attention. "The road that lies ahead of you is one that will be full of trials and tribulations. The love you hold for one another will not punish you in the presence of one such as I, but it will destroy you both if you allow your hearts to dictate the actions which you take in this war. Your powerful emotions may enable you to stir the hearts of billions and draw countless recruits to your cause, but whatever flicker of hope that drives your deeds may very well be extinguished should you succumb to recklessness and zeal. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master Kreia," Revan acknowledged her warning, while Clara silently nodded.

"Then go," Kreia said as she turned around and left her students to whatever fate they would be met by. "And may the Force do with you as it wills."

-o-

Darkness drowned Clara's eyes as the vision of her treasured past shimmered away, returning her to the despair of the present. She looked up to see, seated on his high throne atop a flight of steps which elevated him above his servants, the Emperor in all his dark glory. His hood concealed his face, but Clara could sense him – feel him scouring her mind of any treasonous thoughts, for he still did not fully trust her.

Stepping forward humbly to the bottom of the staircase, Clara got down on one knee and paid her master her reverent respects with a low bow. "You summoned me, my master?"

"Indeed," the Emperor hissed, his voice reminiscent of a manipulative snake as he looked upon his slave.

"Tell me what I must do. Your will be done, my master," Clara exhaled, doing her best to allay the beating of her heart which intensified with every second she thought of Revan.

"I did not summon you here to give you orders. Rather, I have summoned you here to…look upon you."

"Look upon me?" Clara questioned, looking up at him with unsettled eyes as she rose to her feet. "Whatever do you mean, my master?"

"Gerome has turned you once again, and set you once more on the path for which you were destined," Vitiate explained. "But exactly how you will walk that path is yet to be seen. Your heart festers with shadow and dark desire. It is, however, still unclear as to whether you will continue to serve me loyally, or once again rebel against me."

Clara shuddered slightly, knowing that she herself could not confidently answer that question in her mind before deciding to either lie or tell Vitiate the truth. Countless voices screamed inside her head, begging her to take the course they each yearned for.

Servitude, freedom, conquest or peace…One part begged her to follow her original convictions and to be free as she always wanted, and yet the other implored her to learn obedience to the master who could easily end her life with as much as a single thought.

She had indeed allowed the dark side to embrace her once more in its twisted wiles, but her dreams remained untainted. The only thing she wanted was to have Revan by her side once again; she couldn't care less if the world burned to ashes around her, or if it would only be for a fleeting moment before they lost their lives.

She spoke, her mind having been made so numb and unresponsive after being overwhelmed by emotion that even the Emperor himself couldn't verify the sincerity of her words. "No, my master. I know now that neither the powers of Revan or I can overcome your will. I will serve you in life or death, and only ask that you bestow upon me your grace by letting me keep Revan by my side."

The Emperor smirked, bemused by her answer. "Such an obedient servant you have finally become. I see that you are more than capable of learning from your mistakes. And as such, I shall grant you your wish. You may very well still be able to fulfil your former dream of being an empress in your own right, and rule as sovereign with Revan over the worlds of the Republic which I will bestow upon you."

"Thank you…my master," Clara bowed again, feigning gratitude in order to conceal the sheer contempt and hatred she held for the tyrant who ruined her life.

But in her heart, Clara knew that the Emperor's words were nothing more than false promises. She had seen for herself what his insatiable hunger had done on countless worlds in Sith space which were left lifeless and hollow, some even more so than Malachor V itself. The horrifying stories that Visas told her about Darth Nihilus' during their time journeying together with Revan were nothing but meaningless children's fables compared to the absolute horror and devastation the Emperor would bring upon the Republic.

There would be no empire for her to rule over as Revan's wife and empress. No heir, or dynasty to last through the ages as she intended. The only thing that would be waiting for her at the end of the road was the unfulfilling reward of death.

She fell into despair as she realized what kind of bottomless pit of hopelessness she had just delivered herself unto.

It was now only a matter of time…

A/N: I was initially going to dedicate just half of this chapter to Clara's flashback, and the other half to Revan and the others' reunion with Canderous, but I decided to just have fun with the flashback and especially with Revan's speech. It would have been obvious to you that I used and paraphrased many famous quotes from the likes of Winston Churchill, Dwight Eisenhower, Barry Goldwater, Ronald Reagan and John F. Kennedy.

I wanted to write this extensive chapter so I can further establish my own version of the backstory to KOTOR, and also add more dimensions to Clara. I wanted to show that while she's an evil bitch now, she indeed once had a softer and gentler side, because wow – you guys sure love to express your sheer hatred for her in your reviews, haha. Not that I'm complaining, though, because that's the intended effect with her dark side persona. She's actually partly inspired by Sarah Kerrigan from Starcraft and Sylvanas Windrunner from Warcraft, but unlike the former, she in no way will have a happy ending of her own.

I've had some concerned reviews as of late, about how my dialogues are written out in ways that are too fancy and articulate. I've been re-reading a lot of Tolkien lately as well as letters by Thomas Jefferson, so I think that's what's making dialogue scenes turn out that way. I'll try to keep in mind that I have to focus on effective characterization because of that.

I know I've said that this story is nearing its end, but I've been getting several new plot ideas lately about just what kind of battle scenes I can incorporate and build on in the later chapters that are yet to come. I want to give a lot of significance to what Kreia said to Revan and Clara about their emotions before she went away in this chapter. And because all of Revan's memories returned to him after he donned his mask again, those memories of Clara are going to be extremely significant later on.

Right now I can tell you that I will indeed, at some point, be going ahead with writing another AU KOTOR fic in which Revan, Clara and Malak succeed in bringing the Republic to heel to prepare it for the invasion by the True Sith, and also capture Bastila in the process. The plot for the new fic is actually inspired partly by what happened to Napoleon during the War of the Fifth/Sixth Coalition: Revan (Napoleon) will be backstabbed by Malak (Austria), whilst simultaneously having to deal with Republic insurgents (Spanish guerrillas) all across the galaxy wreaking havoc on his occupation forces, as well as the looming invasion threat of the True Sith Empire (Russia).

Once again, thank you for all of your support so far. Please leave your feedback and thoughts in your reviews, and also please look forward to the next chapter of "Torn", which I'll get to work on.