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"Revan was always confident in his plans, always committed fully to whatever strategy would be lain out before him. It was Revan's greatest weakness to trust that those under his command would follow through. He cost many their lives over Malachor V and after because of his confidence in the abilities of those beneath him. His faith in those weak fools was always misplaced. And it will be his downfall."~Darth Malak to... a window; mainly himself while pacing along the Star Forge's Observation Platform.~
Chapter 36: Resistance
Mission Vao rolled her eyes as she walked into Dreshdae. Big Z was stalking through the Academy storage area for some food for the two of them and Revan... Revan was somewhere in orbit if the part of the strategy she was privy to was in the works and the Twi'lek frowned at the sense of someone watching her. Glancing over her shoulder, Mission spotted a Sith student approaching her directly and resisted the urge to calmly rush away to a more public area.
Un-intimidated, Mission crossed her arms and stared the approaching Sith down. Most of those within Dreshdae would cower in fear and awe of the Dark Jedi, but Mission had seen enough and been through enough to not be frightened. Or at least visibly frightened. After all, Revan had all but vouched for her and Zalbaar and the risk of angering the deposed Dark Lord would simply be fool-hearted.
No one ever accused an Onasi of doing something foolish, obviously.
Dustil Onasi cornered or at least though he cornered the Twi'lek that had been so obviously connected to Lord Revan. With a frown, Dustil noticed that the Twi'lek was not cowering as most would in the presence of a Dark Jedi and shrugged mentally. He wasn't really there to bask in the terror of weaklings, simply for answers. A friend in close council with the new Dark Lord would be a good source of information. Information needed to insure his survival if the chill that had passed over him when Darth Revan had been in his face had been any indication.
"You got five seconds to explain why you're bothering me, bub."
Unsaid my the young Twi'lek was what would happen at the end of those five seconds. Clearly bluffing, Mission resisted the urge to flinch at the expressionless glare of the Dark Jedi.
"I have some questions for you, kid-"Mission cut off Dustil with a glare, raising her voice in outrage.
"Kid? Kid! Listen here, bub, you're not much older than me! If you didn't have the Force you'd probably be back home with your mommy and-"Mission grasped at her throat, her eyes widening as she realized taunting the Dark Jedi had been a bad idea.
"Never, never speak of my mother. You don't know anything, little girl. The power of the Darkside has made me strong, made me-"Mission's savior came from an unexpected source that surprised both the Dark Jedi and the Twi'lek.
"Dustil? Dustil! No! What are you doing, let her go!"Flinching in shock, the Dark Jedi's Force-hold on Mission's throat fell away and he magnitude of his own stupidity as well as who was in front of him struck him. He'd just assaulted one of Darth Revan's companions despite the order directly from the Dark Lord not to and despite the shock and rage he'd felt from his own actions and the Twi'lek's words, Dustil could see nothing but the man who'd interrupted what was likely going to be the reason for his death.
"Dad? What are you doing here?"Dustil asked in shock before it quickly dissolved to anger.
"You're spying, aren't you old man? After all this time, you finally show up and for what?"Stepping back and wordlessly thanking Carth, Mission looked between the two curiously, seeing the resemblance between father and son for the first time. Dustil sneered in disgust at his father.
"Couldn't you get yourself blown up on some ship and spared us this reunion?"
Carth slumped slightly in shock and grief, his eyes flickering as he stared at his son as if he'd never seen him before.
"Dustil... Wha- what are you talking about? I thought you were dead!"Dustil's sneer did not leave his face as he looked away from his father, spotting the wide-eyed look Mission was giving him.
"Too bad you didn't still think that. Or did you really think I'd be happy to see you?"The young man shook his head in disgust at the situation he found himself in.
"Look everyone! Its father! Come to rescue me at long last! Sure, he may have left mother and I to die on Telos, but that doesn't matter!"
Mission's heart almost broke at the look on Carth's face and the thought of lying to the man, even for Revan was unthinkable in that moment to her.
"Carth..."
Mission began, only to be completely ignored by the father and son."No, I didn't abandon you! The task force just arrived too late. Telos was in ruins, and your mother... I held her while..."
Carth shook off the memory, shuddering at the power of its pain before looking up into his son's eyes.
"But I looked for you I swear. I looked everywhere!"
Dustil shook his head, unwilling to listen any longer.
"Ah, save it. You abandoned us long before. We were alone all during the wars and even once you came back, you didn't stay!"
Remembering the fiasco with her brother, Mission sympathized with Dustil slightly, but she knew well enough how dedicated to the Republic Carth was and knew he wasn't the kind of man who could just stand aside and let the Sith sweep through the Republic unchallenged.
"I didn't have a choice! I was needed-"Carth's attempt to defend his actions was half-hearted at best and went ignored by his son.
"Yea? Well you were needed at home, too. You were needed when the bombing started and I got captured. You know what? It doesn't matter. Not any more. I have a new family now, a family that cares about me. I don't need you."
Anger replaced the grief in Carth's face as he looked at his son with shock.
"The Sith? You can't mean that! No, the Sith killed your mother! The Sith destroyed Telos!"Dustil, unwilling to listen to his father regardless of the truth in his words at that point shot back without hesitation the accusations that had been burning within him since his father had first gone off to war.
"So? You're the soldier, father. How many mothers have you killed?"Carth stared at Dustil, his anger leaving him as quickly as it had come and a look of pained understanding crossing his features.
"No, you've been brainwashed. The son I knew would never-"
Dustil wouldn't give up any ground though and dug in, using his words as a shield to hurt his father and vindicate his rage.
"You never knew me. You weren't even there to know me, so don't presume to tell me what I would and wouldn't do!"
A purely parental look crossed Carth's face, leaving it stern and saying silently that there would be no negotiations.
"I don't know what's been done to you, but you're coming with me out of here. Now."
Dustil's sneer had yet to leave his face, but it somehow became more pronounced at Carth's demand. Pulling back when his father reached for him, Dustil warned.
"Touch me, old man, and I'll kill you. Get out! Get out of here before I tell the Sith that you're here!"Dustil's eyes snapped sideways to stare at Mission, the sudden realization that the Twi'lek who knew Darth Revan also knew his father.
"How do you-"Dustil began, only to be cut off by a shadow moving out of the corner of his eye. Tensing, the Sith student prepared himself for an attack, uncertain what to expect when a young Cathar woman appeared, clad in a worn pair of auburn Jedi robes. The Cathar was watching his father with a thoughtful frown and Dustil tensed, uncertain of what he wanted to do.
Darth Revan calmly relaxed back into his co-pilot's seat on the transport he had taken from Korriban's surface. Beside him, Junior Officer First-class Sarna was expertly flying the transport through the upper layers of Korriban's atmosphere. The edge of the transport's shield flared slightly against the friction of the thin air molecules and an orange flame burned against the viewport. Staring at the fire flickering against the transparisteel, Revan felt a flickering of the Force near where he could vaguely sense Mission. Being nearly off the planet, Revan could not sense the danger that the Twi'lek had briefly been in, only the gathering of the Force in her general area. It wasn't an exact science and most of what was going on just outside of Dreshdae was going over Revan's head.
He still had the insight though, to sense that something had happened to throw a hydrospanner into his plans and with a scowl the Dark Lord glanced over to Sarna.
"Open a signal to the Academy. I need to speak with Yuthura."
Sarna nodded wordlessly, setting the shuttle's autopilot before opening a secured channel to Yuthura Ban. Revan's conversation with the Academy's head was short and to the point.
"Yuthura. Chose the most competent of that rabble Uthar left you and take whatever is necessary with you. We're relocating to a secured location. If we linger on Korriban any longer Malak or the Republic will come and those are fights that we cannot win. Divided as we are now, at least."
Yuthura frowned as she looked down at her communicator, her hesitation broadcasting slightly in the Force. Revan said nothing to the hesitation, uncertain himself over Malak's strategy. Alec would have struck back immediately, but Darth Malak proved his self unpredictable when he fired on the Revenge and betrayed Revan. Malak could wait, build up a fleet the likes of which the galaxy had never seen before and destroy any and all opposition by sheer numbers. Of course, such a massive fleet could not be sustained indefinitely. It was part of the reason Revan had not sought to destroy the Republic's infrastructure during his reign as Dark Lord.
A battleship wouldn't run without fuel. A blaster wouldn't fire without a charge and soldiers wouldn't fight effectively when they were starving. The droids would last for a time, but droids lacked something normal sentient beings possessed; common sense. A droid would analyze logically and operate within their mission parameters. It was inflexible and any military commander knew a strategy never survived the first encounter with an enemy. The ability of normal sentients to adapt was a necessity on the battlefield and could simply not be programmed into a droid.
Even HK-47 lacked something that an untrained child possessed and Revan twitched slightly at the thought. Droids could be reprogrammed, have their memories erased and become entirely different machines. What did that say about sentients, specifically him when the Jedi could do the same?
Paranoid at his train of thoughts, Revan examined his memories for the... well; he'd done it many times before. Starting with the scars running across his body, Revan unconsciously traced them and the painful memories of how they'd come to be. Pain was something that could be implanted in the mind as well as fear, but the cold sense of surprise each wound brought couldn't simply be explained through words.
"They tried to make me an invalid. A weak and mindless drone… A slave..."Opening his eyes slowly, Revan ignored the sidelong glance he knew Sarna was sending him, fixing his gaze towards the small fleet he had to show for his betrayal of the Jedi Order and the Republic.
It wasn't enough.
Expressionless, the former Jedi drew in a steady, cool breath and exhaled it slowly, recalling his brief encounter with Vima Sunrider's ghost. That had been a sordid affair, of that there was no doubt. To see what was left, lifeless and empty in the wake of his descent into darkness had clarified things he had overlooked… Things he had misinterpreted, crimes he had not seen as such and with the brush of a finger across the base of his mask, Revan traced his thoughts as well as the edge of the Mandalorian metal as he considered all he had taken from the galaxy and what it had gained from him in the process.
It simply wasn't enough.
He'd damned himself long before he'd taken to the teachings of the Darkside. He'd fallen long before Malachor V and the scars those events, those altering atrocities left upon him and the worlds he'd burned were well in excess of what he'd set out to do in the first place.
He'd meant to make the Republic, the Galaxy strong, but he'd sown the seeds of mistrust. Questioning the established ruling body of the Jedi Order had been endlessly frustrating and at the same time satisfying, but Revan Qel-Droma could not abide the corruption and pain that had swept the galaxy during the Mandalorian wars.
Revan and many of the Jedi that had followed him had been pushed past their limits and crossed over the edge of their own sanity. The Jedi training had failed them in war, leaving only the ravages of hatred, despair and fear.
"Sarna."Revan stated blandly; his voice a low, dull beat that caused the Junior Officer to jerk in surprise, her fingers nearly brushing the controls that would have sent the transport into a short and lethal dive back to Korriban's surface. Recovering quickly from her surprise at being addressed so suddenly, Sarna activated the autopilot and turned to see the masked Revanchist leader staring out at the Reclaimer, his visor catching a hint of Korriban's star as he tilted his head slightly, the bones of his neck popping audibly. Grunting in discomfort and annoyance at the weariness of his body, Revan clenched his left hand into a fist, the leather of his black gloves creaking quietly.
"How would you like a promotion?"Revan turned his mask to the young woman, his amused smirk hidden beneath his mask. Frowning in confusion, Sarna turned back to the controls, retaking command of the transport and guiding it towards the Interdictor that had been named the head of the Revanchist fleet. Dwelling on the question for several silent moments, Sarna finally came up with an answer she found acceptable, one that came from her own beliefs.
"I do not think I would, Milord."The Junior Officer stated cooly, a miniscule flinch crossing her eyes when Revan turned away from studying her and watched the approaching bay of the Reclaimer.
"Why, pray tell, would that be?"Revan asked calmly, his fingers brushing the base of his mask as he probed the Force. Sarna swallowed the lump in her throat at the emotionless and dead tone Revan's voice held, her eyes flickering between the controls and her peripherals.
"I am not qualified for anything more, Milord. Promoting me would be favoritism and it is both irresponsible and dangerous."The transport had landed by the time the Sith soldier had spoken and Revan stood slowly, absently brushing his hand over Sarna's shoulder as he moved from the seat and made his way across the cockpit.
"Loyalty isn't something that can be forced upon someone, nor is wisdom it seems. You are both, and your inexperience in the way I fight a war has nothing to do with my offer. I need someone who is both loyal to me as well as someone who can think for themselves. It is foolish to orchestrate an entire war by myself. All I require of you is that you are loyal and have a brain between your ears."
Activating the craft's auto-cool down for a post-flight, Sarna quickly locked the controls and stood to face Revan, her brown eyes narrowed in confusion.
"What would you ask of me, Milord?"
Sarna asked quietly, her stance straightening at the military tone Revan's voice adopted.
"You are being promoted to Lieutenant First Class for starters. What I need from you is simple, really. Find others willing enough, loyal enough or stupid enough to throw themselves between danger and myself. Once you are certain of their loyalty, we will secure the full support of Yuthura Ban by... liberating some slave camps on Sleheyron. You will find that many of the Revanchists are former slaves. I find that freeing one of a life of servitude tends to make them grateful and... ironically shifts their focus from pleasing their masters to pleasing their liberator."Revan's tone was detached, but at the same time almost condescending. It was as if the concept of servitude to one such as he was so contemptuous and so alien that it could only be a joke. Uneasy, Sarna merely saluted and gave her affirmation with a simple and toneless.
"Yes, Milord."
His face expressionless beneath his mask, Darth Revan turned and left the transport, waving away the honor guard aboard the capitol ship that escorted him to the bridge where the next few hours were spent preparing to evacuate the newly-turned Sith forces on Korriban.
The Revanchists were on the move, and so too were the JedI and Sith. To linger and plot in such an obvious place would be a fool's errand and Revan was many things, but a fool he was not.
AN: Sorry for the delay. Got injured pretty badly back in late February/March and my old CPU got a virus (Bastards) Haven't had the means/time/energy to type and I know this chapter falls short for such a long delay, but I plan to get back to a more reasonable rate now that I'm figuratively back on my feet.