Leon was completely unable to concentrate on what was being said, the argument between Ana, Van, his crew, and the three Triumvirs becoming little more than a low rumble in his ears. There was a thought in the back of his mind, laughter about how the three Triumvirs were standing around unarmed, and essentially unguarded, in the same room as Revan's clone. To be fair he wasn't much of a threat at the moment. He had been completely unable to concentrate at all since leaving Dromund Kaas, his mind instead fixed on the events that had unfolded in the prison just a few days earlier. And a Jedi or Sith that couldn't concentrate was the same as a Jedi or Sith on their way to the grave. Leon nodded slightly when he heard his name called, but kept staring at the holo table's ocean of blue glass, the color making him more and more despondent as he stared. He wanted to look away, but it was as if he was transfixed by the color.
The exiled Knight could not help but replay the moment in the Kaas prison over and over again in his head. He had seen the woman's eyes a million times in his mind, each time seeing the same lack of recognition in her eyes. Somehow ever time stung more than the last, eventually causing the faded scar of his lightsaber wound at his gut to burn as if it was still in the process of being created. Nothing felt right anymore, least of all that Mari was light years away serving the person he hated the most. It felt like a terrible betrayal, of not only him but also of Marien for this to have happened. He could not even take comfort in the knowledge – for there was no way this was not true – that she had resisted until the end, as it meant she had been tortured personally by the Emperor for weeks, day in and day out. He would not wish that on her, even if it meant she was as strong as he believed.
"Leon? Leon!" The man looked up, shaking the dazed feeling from his head.
Everyone in the room was busy staring directly at the silent exile. Their eyes were all full of varying levels of sympathy, ranging from the complete lack in the Chancellor's, the mild interest in the Grand Moff's, and the real pain that the man's crew mates communicated with their gazes. "What?" Leon inquired hollowly, his vision blurring in and out while he looked around. He shook his head again until the world surrounding him became completely clear. "I wasn't listening."
"You are leaving," one of the Triumvirs, the Chiss woman, noted. She crossed her arms over her chest, and examined the man with her head cocked to one side.
Leon looked down and noticed he had indeed been edging slowly towards the turbolift. "I am," the warrior said, his conscious mind finally catching up with his unconscious one. Leon soon was turning around and walking away. Being there or not, it didn't really make any difference. They weren't talking about the important things, about how find the Foundry or kill the Emperor. Besides, if he was going to wallow needlessly he might as well do it all by himself.
"You don't have to go," Cade said suddenly, cutting off the renewing arguments between the Triumvirs and Van. Ana was watching Leon closely, an odd look on her face.
"I do," Leon replied without looking over his shoulder. He did an about face in the turbolift and slammed his fist into the up button, doing his best to ignore the worried looks on his allies faces.
Betrayal. He had been told every day by Revan that such a thing was coming. He had been betrayed by Ana and even earlier by the man who claimed to have once been his best friend. Now, despite the fact that he knew she had not wanted it, Marien had betrayed him as well. Revan had been absolutely right – betrayed by friend and betrayed by love. Leon supposed that meant it was only a matter of time before he really did figure out a way to betray himself. Would it be by destroying the Empire he had loved for his entire life, short as it may have been? Would it be by killing Mari and losing something he cared so much about? For the first time, all he knew was that it was inevitably going to happen.
"So you have finally allowed yourself to believe the truth." Revan appeared beside Leon, his pale face and red eyes full of victory. He knew that he was victorious now, that everything he had wanted to happen to Leon had happened – finally, the man was ready to be rebuilt as the ultimate weapon of vengeance. Or, almost. "It is time for you to reclaim what is yours."
"There's nothing left," Leon growled, not wanting to listen to whatever truth the Sith wanted to tell him. He had taken enough truth to last him a lifetime. "Leave me alone."
"You will follow me," Revan noted as the turbolift came to a stop. He walked through the door before it opened to reveal, not the landing pad and the Eagle that Leon had thought he was approaching, but a hallway lit only by dim, gray lights. Glowing with an ethereal and slightly purple light, Revan stood almost twenty feet away with an evil smile on his face. Leon looked down at the controls for the turbolift and considered for a moment the possibility of leaving even Revan behind. He knew that wouldn't work, though. Leon had pressed the button, which meant he was being guided. By the Force, by Revan. It did not matter which: something here called to his destiny. Leon stepped out of the lift and followed the ghost.
"What exactly are we looking for, Revan?" Leon asked, sliding his hands into his pockets and casting a glare at the ground. Even if he knew he had to be there, that did not mean he had to enjoy the company of his travel partner.
"I'm glad you asked," the dead man noted, his voice communicating his grin. Leon groaned internally; he didn't always like being right. Revan slowed his walk for a half second while Leon caught up, then sped up so they walked in step. Revan looked over at Leon and laughed dryly. "I want to tell you, I really do. But I also wonder what you'll say when you see it for the first time. Some things can only be appreciated if you see them."
"I haven't appreciated anything you've brought me," Leon snapped. He stopped in his tracks and clenched his fists in his pockets, holding back from the futile action of attacking the ghost. Swinging his hands, or even better his lightsaber, at the Sith Lord would feel good until he began to laugh at Leon. That would be demoralizing as kark. "I lost my home and friends and the love of my life. And then I learned none of it was even mine to begin with. You gave me everything just to take it away!"
"What use would a lie for a past be, Leon?" Revan countered before turning and walking away. Leon watched him go for a while, then made after his former self. Revan no longer waited for his clone, instead opting to lead at a speed that forced Leon to jog to keep up. "The Jedi are hypocritcal fools, but their code is not one to be taken lightly. There must be truth, instead of ignorance. Most Sith want power from lies and their own deceit. You must instead take power from truth, no matter how terrible it is."
"Interesting thing to say for someone who said I should never believe a thing he said," Leon retorted. Revan froze mid step, but continued walking nonetheless.
"...Yes," Revan muttered, though it was not very convincing. "You are learning, then. But we don't have time for that. Your lessons have ended, and your final test is about to begin, Leon." Revan stopped moving and placed himself in front of a pair of doors. "I'm afraid that you are going to have to open the doors, my action lack weight at the moment. The code -" the ghost pointed his glowing finger at the door's access pad "- is 7-2-8-7-1. Open the door and you will see everything that you need to see. Everything you needed to become what you are, everything you... well, you'll see."
Leon glanced between the Sith and the door, then input the code. The doors hissed open slowly, replaced with an empty darkness. Lights began to flicker to life within the inky blackness, first on the floors to highlight a path through the shadows and then in a series of room spanning tubes that illuminated everything. "What the hell?" Leon whispered, taking a few steps through the door and gaping in surprise at what he was seeing. The room was filled with large tubes that were slightly iced over, rows and rows of them covering every inch of the floor.
"Go. See them," Revan commanded before walking down the main path on the ground. He stopped between the first two tubes and looked over his shoulder. The light of the tubes shifted and a shadowy creature appeared to move towards the ghost, as if they could sense him. Leon's hand went to his lightsaber on his hip. "There will be no need for that. Search as many of them as you feel you should; I will wait for you at the end of the room." Revan turned back down the path and walked away once more, the contents of the tubes rustling to follow him. Leon watched him go and saw more shapes rustle in the more distant tubes, the shapes growing progressively less and less monstrous.
Leon took a shuddering breath and moved towards the closest tube. He stopped a few paces away when whatever was within moved towards him. He looked over his shoulder at the still open door, wondering if he should just leave right then and there. He instead walked towards the tube and reached out with his right hand. His palm grazed the cool, frosted glass and a shiver ran down his spine. It had nothing to do with the temperature of the room. The shape within rustled again, and Leon leaned in to try and make it out. One jump scare later, he was sitting on the ground panting while staring up at the creature within the tube.
It was a mostly humanoid shape, though it appeared as alien as a Vong. Its head was deformed and flat at the crest, as if the top of its skull was missing. The creature, whatever it was, had only one eye and it was floating outside of its socket. Leon cringed again when the eyelid shut and opened around the optic nerve. The creature's body was not much better than its head, with what looked to be a spine and organs dripping out of its chest and dragging against the bottom of its container. "What the hell is that thing?" Leon muttered, pushing up to his feet and walking closer to it. The being opened its toothless mouth and slammed its one good hand against the wall nearest where he stood. He shook his head and took a disturbed step back. Just what was the Triumvirate up to?
Leon moved up to the next tube and didn't even jump when another monstrous creature slithered up to the wall. This one had two arms instead, and its organs were still within its body. The base of its form had two mis-shapen and infant-like feet. Leon suddenly had a very odd feeling, as if he had seen this creature before. He glanced back at the last one and noted that, other than appearing more complete, this new creature was nearly identical. Leon glanced at the ground for a moment and soon walked further into the room.
Each row followed the same pattern, with the creature appearing more human like and even more familiar than the last. He skipped a few rows and made his way to the very last tube. This tube was in the center of the pathway, which continued around it on either side. The path continued further, the lights above disappearing and bathing the rest of the room in darkness. Leon walked around the tube and stared down the pathway for a moment, considering skipping the last monstrous creature and finding out what Revan really wanted him to see. And yet he found that he couldn't resist and walked back to the final tube. "Project Besh. Subject 10,197. Success number 1. Release scheduled for... N/A," Leon read from the holoplaque that erupted into being on the side of the tube. Leon swiped the screen away and pressed his hands and face against the tube's glass, intent on viewing whatever it was that the Triumvirate would deem a 'success.'
This being within made Leon's blood go cold, though not because of some sort of hideous deformity or sudden movement full of primal rage. No, it completed the pattern of increasing humanity that the other tubes' denizens had impressed upon Leon. So too did it appear most familiar to him, as familiar, one could say, as the man's own reflection. Because what floated, inert, within the tube was Leon's reflection. Or, rather, a being with whom Leon shared it. His clone – No, not quite. Revan's clone. Revan's clone was what floated within the unknown fluid. Leon looked past the complete clone and gazed upon the rows and rows and rows upon rows and rows and rows of them, each more of a failure than the last. Than this... this... Leon could not even describe the 'successful' clone to himself. It was so hateful to him, so deserving of malice that he would not allow it to become anything other than this inert, useless lump of force grown cells that it was. Leon glared at the figure for a moment and then, impulsively, pressed the activation button and took a step back.
Leon watched as the machine began to slowly empty its contents and let his hand fall to his lightsaber. After a moment of consideration, he pulled his hand away. He wanted something more personal. Leon watched as the wall of the tube slid open and the clone fell heavily to the ground. It looked up, gray eyes dazed and confused from their first glimpse of the world beyond its clone tube. When it caught sight of Leon, the clone's eyes widened further in recognition. "You're..." Leon's eyes narrowed as it spoke and he shoved its noise from his mind. The Triumvirate must have managed to scrap together a barely working copy of the original Revan's brainwaves and implanted them in this... It was alive. Leon would correct that. Leon reached down and lifted the clone by the throat with one hand, the other cocked back with fist clenched. He walked forward, mind clear as he ignored the clone's begging for mercy, and slammed its back against the wall of its clone tube.
Leon roared angrily and slammed his fist into the clone's face, enjoying the feeling of its nose crunching beneath his knuckles. He brought his hand back and slammed it forward again. Again. Again, he continued even past the point where he knew that the clone was dead. His fist just kept slamming into the paste that was once the clone's begging skull. "DAMN IT!" Leon screamed, bringing the corpse back with both hands and throwing it through the glass of the tube. He brought his hands to his chest, channeling energy through his palms, then let them shoot forward. A burst of concussive energy, tinged with purple and white Force Lightning, rushed from his hands and through the room. Clone tubes exploded violently, their contents screaming out as they were melted down to nothing. The glass shattering was somehow comforting for Leon, as if it was the sound of his world ending by his own hand. It felt right.
Leon finally let his hands fall a moment later so he could stare at the carnage. The liquid from the tubes had come to cover the floor in a thin layer of glistening blue. Lights fell from the ceiling and shattered against the ground, electricity sparking from them and traveling through the puddles of liquid, sometimes eliciting final reaction from the dead monstrosities all around. Leon took it all in for a moment, a feeling of both regret and grim satisfaction rising in his gut, and then turned around and walked down the rest of the path.
Revan was there, waiting for him with an arrogant grin on his face. The ghost was standing beside a armor mannequin in black robes. A red length of cloth hung from a circular belt buckle that kept up the black pants. Bronze armor snaked out and into the cloth of the robes and a silver cylinder was attached to the hip of the belt. From beneath the hood gazed out an angry, red and silver visage. A single black stripe constituted the visor of the mask. The colors came together at the chin to form the face of vengeance. Revan disappeared a second later, and everything went dark.
Leon was still awake, completely aware that he was in a place without any light. He looked around, waiting for something – anything – to come into view. It felt like hours before the world around him slowly became differing shades of gray and silver. Red lights flashed on the walls. There were stairs at the center of the room and leading to a black etching of the Fel Coat of Arms over the Imperial Insignia. There was a large view port at the end of the long room, which was obviously the bridge of a Ship, and showed the empty blackness of wherever Leon was right now. In his mind, he guessed.
Leon walked up the stairs to stand at the center of Fel Coat of Arms – his Coat of Arms – and looked around. He had an undeniable feeling of familiarity for this place, though he couldn't quite tell why. "It's where we were killed." Leon turned around slowly and glared at the dead Sith Lord, who now looked as he had when he had been betrayed – mask, robes, and even lightsaber the same. The blood red blade hovered just parallel his leg. He took a long breath, the noise distorted by the mask's speakers, then spoke once again, "The time has come."
Leon remained silent for a moment before reaching down to his hip and igniting his own weapon. The prophecy that the dead Sith had told him so long ago ringing in his ears as he did, every word striking at his heart like a dagger: "By the time my vengeance is completed, you will be betrayed three times. Once by friend. Once by lover. You shall, at the last, be betrayed by yourself. Then, and only then, will your path to the Dark Side be complete."
"You said you've been taking my body over whenever I edge too close to the Dark Side," Leon stated while setting himself into a ready stance. His fingers tightened around the hilt of the black and white lightsaber blade, his nails going white beneath his gloves. "So this is it. You're betraying me."
"I told you that you would betray yourself by the time this was all over. Friend, Love, and now this. Just as I foresaw," Revan responded, though his voice did not sound as triumphant as Leon thought it perhaps should have. Instead, the Sith Ghost sounded almost... sorry. Still arrogant, still assured that he would kill Leon, but almost empathetic to his lot in life. "I remember what it is to be betrayed so many times by so many friends. If you were actually a real person, I may even feel truly bad about this."
Leon found that, after what he had done in the Clone Room, he could no longer muster anger at that insult. When it had been only him that had been cloned, it had seemed like the galaxy was unfair. Looking back, he realized that he was not one of a kind. He was a successful clone, that was it. He could have been a twisted monstrosity murdered by one of its own. "I'm not going to make it easy for you," Leon hollowly told the Sith, who remained deathly still.
"If you did, I would be disappointed in myself." Then the two warriors rushed each other, black blade and red coming ever closer to decide not only the direction of the galaxy's future but, perhaps more importantly, the direction of one man's path through that galaxy.
