Chapter 79 / And She Was

Xxx

What was my daughter like? I scarcely know how to answer the question.

She was so young when she left for the Jedi. Didn't want to give her up, you know. But my husband wasn't around as much as he should have been and I didn't have the credits to give her a good life.

Oh, and she was different! Right from the start.

One time a boy in her creche fell and gashed his head open. My little girl was the one who wouldn't stop crying. And then there was that accident at the mine. All those sents injured. We had to sedate her-and us a kilometer away.

I didn't have a word for it back then, but my little girl seemed to feel a planet's worth of pain. Maybe her father knew what that was about, but he never said. So much that man never told me… but there's no point dwelling now.

When Master Quinneth Cannon came and told me the Jedi could help...well, my little girl was only two! She wasn't going to get better here on Hoth!

Did you know they called me out of the blue the day she came back? Gave me a first class ticket to the Crystal Palace and then Polar Governor Cikade gave her that medal… the first time we were reunited was in front of all of those people!

And Sheris… she just came into my arms. Just like she had when she was a little girl. She gave me a hug and then the governor gave her the Hothan Star for helping Jedi Revan save us from the Machine Ships.

Did she cry? Strange how memory plays tricks. I can't remember her crying at all, but surely she must have-she cried at everything as a child.

-Aeryn Loran, "My Story of a Lost Daughter." Hoth Times Publishing.3941 BBY

- compiled by Archivist Lanna T'so, University of Coruscant

Xxx

Her feet crunched on the blasted remains of the temple doors, boots slipping a little as she walked into the light. Revan didn't bother looking back at Polla and Dar again. Wasn't really goodbye. And she could no longer deny she looked forward to what lay ahead.

The luminous figure standing before her was as familiar as Revan's own skin. She had been in the Zabrak's body often enough these past few days to recognize its stamp in the Force; but now dark light emanated from Zepth's body, licking the indentations that ran across his skin with eldritch flame. His broad-muscled back was turned toward her, and the shadows made the horns on his head look like a crown.

"This was always the game plan, huh? You were just hiding from me, before?" Her voice rang across the Dark Temple chamber, but the Zabrak didn't budge. "Lulling me into a false sense of security before springing your trap?"

The broad back didn't even twitch. The head didn't turn. The Zabrak stood frozen long enough for Revan to notice his bare ass. She'd seen enough Sith friezes on Korriban to know how much nudity factored into their ancient rituals-hell, Jorak Uln had stripped her and Mekel Jin to their skivs on Korriban before he strung them up like killick larvae. Nudity didn't usually bug her, but it made the kid look vulnerable. Zepth didn't so much as twitch at her approach. Anyone could have come up behind and stabbed him in the back. Poor kid. Just as much of a victim as Dustil and Mekel in this.

We can't afford to be sentimental, a cold voice warned her. It sounded like Dar.

Trust me, I know. Perhaps she really was losing it, answering her own thoughts. Revan cleared her throat and spoke out loud. "Just so we're clear, Vitiate, you're never going to be secure again. I'm gonna haunt you for eternity. This isn't your trap. It's mine."

There was a long pause, before the body jerked to life. The Zabrak's head turned. "Ah! There you are!" His glowing red eyes illuminated cracked wall and spiraling stairs, above and below. "Oh, my dear! I am assembling the Voices I can find for us… although truly, the selection is rather sparse. Most of the survivors here are immune, thanks to the antics of your friends… but I do have a drop shipment coming from Ziost if you would like to wait-"

"Shut up." As Revan approached, all that the Emperor was crowded into her head; a thousand eyes and voices, all welcoming her home. Their whispers drowned out the cold voice, jostling and jockeying for position. "Let's get this over with."

"Oh, ho! So eager! Come, then." The Emperor held out Zepth's arms. "Come to me."

Revan's hand automatically reached for the saber she'd left on the Hawk. "We had a deal. First, let Mekel and Dustil go."

His laughter seemed to reach the recesses of her mind. "Oh! Of course! Still… cease scrabbling for the hilt of your weapon! Your blade would mean nothing in this place."

Yes. I-

The hand tugging at the empty loop on Revan's coverall abruptly relaxed. Her nerves sang with that web of energy that bound them both to the glowing altars. Dustil and Mekel were like twin suns to her Force-sense, but their altars echoed with darkness, as if every sent who had died upon the stone before had laid their mark. The mix of strength and sorrow, beauty and suffering, made her breath catch and her pulse quicken.

Revan willed her throat to form words out loud instead of stepping into the madman's thoughts. "Vitiate..." she scrambled to remember who had told her how much he hated that name, but that recollection was lost in the rush of a thousand thoughts-glimpses of other lives, other places-far from the monster before her. "-Let them go!"

"A moment…" His kindly chuckle was all the more maddening for its imitation of affection as he dismissed with speech and plunged into her mind. First you should see! In days of old I would lay my Hand upon one altar and lay the sacrifice upon the other, but with this Bezal-bond, oh- he raised Zepth's hands. The resulting light formed vortices of raw energy, which hovered above each of his hands. Having two Vessels is so much more efficient! Here, taste-

Again, that kindly chuckle, like the phantom touch of someone tousling Revan's hair.

Yes. Acquiescence slipped out, even as her rational mind intruded. "No! Wait-" Revan sidestepped, but not quickly enough. The orbs above his hands flashed, their cores brightening, widening as her own hands reached back to grasp-

-everything.

The rush of power was exquisite. It was the same feeling that Revan had experienced in the Rakatan Temple and again in the Star Forge facing Malak's dark heart-the same-but magnified a thousand-fold.

Yes. Yes! Imagine all we can experience. Together we shall move mountains. Remake the galaxy! Deliver justice to the downtrodden! Water to desert worlds! Form life from the ashes! See your child, your lover, protect your companions, anything you-

Everything I-

Yes. Yes!

He lies, whispered the cold voice inside her head. Remember this if nothing else. Vitiate always lies.

But his lies no longer mattered. The primeval Force itself was the tool, and her grasp on its hilt was stronger than his. Revan felt her head fall back, her body go limp. She rose above the ground, her feet brushing air. When she looked on either side, tendrils of white energy traced down her arms and she was suspended above him. The Emperor lay beneath: a mere apex of the pyramid sustaining her.

Revan's fingers twitched and the Force surged.

From a bird's eye view the altars were glowing white obelisks and Tenebrae a black mass of darkness, rising like smoke and enveloping her limbs. When Revan moved her fingers, the energy became the galaxy itself. She reached across the stars and within each celestial body she could see-

Everything.

Yes, my Starfire. An indulgent chuckle. Everything. For you.

And Revan was-

-chained to a chair, watching Carth buckle a Republic dress jacket. "Oh!" A woman's voice and then her husband frowned, and Revan turned, and Yuthura was standing to her left above a broken wine glass, stain spreading across the floor and she was-

-wiping off hands dusty with flour as she watched Molla Organa weep."Jasp's poor and no one's heard from Polla. The droid-lady said she was supposed to be on Oas, but she's gone-"

-and she was-

-patrolling the streets of a golden city, staring at the statue of a gentle, bearded man-Lord Valkorion, their savior, the warlord turned peacemaker for glory of Zakuul and she was-

-one of a dozen in a processional, walking the jungle path to Dromund Kaas's Dark Temple, chanting and garlanded with artificial flowers and she was-

-watching, her gills aflutter with amusement as Inse Blais exchanged barbed threats with her siblings over a comm-link and she was-

-brushing filth from her feathers and blinking at the haggard Trandoshan. "Lieutenant C'Tannis?" Rensha barked again. And she was-

-chuckling from Lord Nondik's throat, as Yuthura Ban's boots crunched on broken glass. "-a disturbance, just now, Carth. In the Force." "Revan?" Her husband's familiar lips thinned and twisted. "Or Dustil? Was it her? Or Dustil?" And the Twi'lek shook her head-

-and she was-

Striding across stars like a colossus for she was the Master now: she was staring down at a ruined planet, at two altars, at a weeping child, a broken man-at a sacked city-and she was, she was-everywhere-

Everything.

The Force twisted like woven ropes, like braids of hair, light and dark strands interwoven. All those little lives, little lights. So beautiful. Light and dark-both beautiful.

The cold voice's rebuke almost had Dar's lecturing tone. Too simplistic. Dark and light mean nothing here. This place is an entrance to the central heart of the Builder's design. Once we enter the mainframe we shall have full control-complete dominion over Vitiate and all of his works-

Revan felt her own heart falter, felt her nerves twitch. Pain made the energies before her blur and shake, made breath too slow in her lungs.

This body cannot process the matrices effectively. The meat shell cannot die, but it can break. Over and over again, until agony drives us to madness- The whisper came from the real Revan-so like Dar-but colder. Empty. An echo from the past.

[Come,] the computer whispered. Her tomb waited below. [Descend.]

Yes.

Revan bent the Force-tendrils to her will and floated down, landing in a crouch before the Emperor's possessed body. She straightened, reaching again for the hilt of her saber, before realizing she'd left it behind, in the pocket of Carth's jacket, at the Hawk. For Dustil, she'd thought at the time. Possessions were no longer needed-not now-not when the galaxy lay open and waiting beneath her, every part of it fecund and ripe-

Yes. Yes! Every part of it is ours!

But first, let them go, Vitiate. Her promise. She had to remember.

Do it yourself. His thought was lazy, sated, as if their energy bath had made him sleepy, ready for an afternoon nap. It made Revan think of Dancer, Polla's hessi, dozing in the sun after he'd eaten an entire bushel of hay, maybe a few ground-rats. She felt her own steps slow, her limbs stretch with delicious languor. The urge to go to the tomb became a need. Close her mortal eyes and soar among the clouds-

First attend to these fools. The cold voice. Bitter and resigned. Get it over with. Then free us.

You have a fracked-up idea of freedom, Voice. Eerily, Revan remembered arguing with Bastila. Her feet scuffed the stones as she approached the altars.

Carth's son and her cousin lay on their sides. Mists of sparkling energy coalesced around their bodies. Dustil's hand extended toward Mekel; his mouth open, screaming. Mekel's body curled almost in a ball. Dark Sith runes were etched on his chest and back; twins to their pale echoes on Dustil's skin. Whatever clothes they had been wearing were mostly burned away. Scraps of cloth mixed with ash littered the stones. Then, as Revan watched, Mekel's ribs heaved. She almost felt him take a breath in her own lungs, felt his consciousness like a beating heart against her own: that of a small, trapped animal, encircled in her fist.

help

Dustil and Mekel were no more possessed by Tenebrae than she was-and yet the mens' minds lay bare, just as open to Revan as any of the Emperor's subjects. In that instant, she saw her cousin's thoughts-and Dustil's.

help help

Mekel's trapped mind fluttered in her grasp. Their bond was an anchor rooted atop the ancient altars, soaking into the very ground of this place.

You could leave me the boys. The Emperor's thought was a soft whisper, tempting her in the dark. If you desire more time, Revan, you could take it.

No. Revan lifted her hand. She pulled the Force back like a whip crack. I need to go-

The stone altars split at the same moment. The light died like a circuit had been cut. Revan felt her own knees buckle, heard someone's skull crack against stone, and then a faint yelp of pain. It took a second for her to realize the pain was her own. The Force contracted, retreating from a web of stars, from the other bodies. She scrambled to her feet, muscles suddenly stiff and cold. When she looked down she saw that most of her own clothing had been burnt away. Her skin was lit from within, casting a pale luminescence in the darkness.

Irrelevant. Everything she needed lay in the Force.

[Come,] the computer whispered again.

We promised to save them, first, the cold voice in her head added wearily. Get it over with. Revan scrambled to her feet, wiping her bleeding nose. From goddess she had descended again to something less-all in an eyeblink. Her body was in agony, which was also irrelevant. Dustil and Mekel lay where they'd fallen. The Zabrak had fallen too-as if the shock of their bond-break had knocked all of them out.

"Tenny-Bro?" Revan kicked his ribs lightly with her now-bare foot. "Vitiate? Asshole?"

The only response was a rattled snore.

"Good riddance." Revan really didn't want that sleemo's laugh to be the last thing she heard.

[Come,] the Rakatan computer below sang happily. [Come to me.]

"Hold your damned hessi." Revan bent down to begin dragging the unresponsive sacks of flesh out of the Temple, back to Polla and Dar.

Xxx

It would be an honor to accept your training, Master Jorde. But let me tell my mother myself. She isn't going to like it. I was never much of a padawan, but I've been going on missions with my mother, the Forever Padawan, since I was nine years old. I daresay I'm a better Jedi than many who've already passed the Trials.

You want to know what I think about my mother? My mother, Sheris Darkstar? She prefers Loran. I do not prefer it, but she never listened to me. Not about names-never about where we should live, or what I should be. She tries to coddle me-they both do-like I can't read a history book or put the pieces together myself. For a long time I resented her . My father always told me he was proud of me for telling the truth (because I always did), but all along they were both such liars!

But I understand more, now. Sometimes a lie is kinder than the truth, isn't it? Sometimes a lie is even a kind of truth.

-Intercepted communication from the Onderon Enclave to the Telos Enclave, 3932 BBY

[Note: For such a public figure, the details of Sheris Loran's personal life remain sparse. Some scholars believe Knight Hoth Lamar was her child.

Master Mical Jorde is of course well known to any scholar of the Old Republic. As the Master of Jedi Archives, he oversaw both the reconstruction of the Temple on Coruscant and the proposal to resettle the Jedi to Tython. No padawan of his has ever been recorded, which makes some doubt the veracity of the transcript. In addition, all records of Master Mical Jorde halt abruptly in the year 20 RRA (3931 BBY) suggesting early retirement-or demise.]

- compiled by Archivist Lanna T'so, University of Coruscant

XXX

The tomb's chamber had suffered structural damage since Revan had last seen it, but the domed plinth was intact. The ceiling rattled above their heads. Whatever the Fragment and the Emperor were doing in the Force felt like an imploding star.

Revan had to make her eyes adjust to the darkness. The only light came from Malak's intangible form; but Revan could sense other ghostly presences nearby. Other whispers in the dark. Somewhere even the sound of bells. Davad, she thought. And Beya. So many sacrifices had come before this moment that the moment itself felt like an afterthought.

Abruptly, the Force-siege stopped.

"Can you tell what has happened?" she asked Malak.

"Little more than you. But I sense… eagerness. She will be here soon."

"Yes." Revan's hand unhooked her belt, setting the saber to the side before stepping out of her trousers, then her robes. When she had finished undressing and folded the garments into a neat pile, she looked into her lover's eyes. They glimmered with emotion above Malak's prosthesis, below the clean moon of his skull. The directness of his gaze made her cheeks flush; although, of course, he had seen her skin bare often enough before.

"Beautiful, " Malak whispered. His incorporeal thumb brushed her cheek, leaving warmth in its wake. "As always, my heart."

Say goodbye to him for us, Sheris urged. Hurry. She comes.

We have, already. The last few days of the Machine Wars had been, Revan realized, one endless goodbye. She looked up at Malak again. Grief and pain, enough to fill an ocean. An eternity's worth, reflected in the ghost of her husband's face.

"Goodbye, Red." Malak's unmarked visage lay over the ruin of what came after like another mask. All ages of the man she had loved and lost. His hand reached out again. " Farewell, Bright One."

"Farewell," she echoed, although she had promised herself not to say it again. Her cheeks were wet with Sheris's tears. Revan Starfire D'Reev walked to her tomb and placed her hands upon the lid: One flesh, one metal, sliding into the indentations set in the dome.

Nothing happened.

You knew nothing would, Sheris chided her gently. Not so easily. You know you will have to face her, but you keep trying for the impossible.

"Always." Revan sat down on the floor behind the plinth-positioning herself to be concealed from the chamber entrance. The stone was cold on her bottom and she rested her saber hilt on her lap. One of the emitters was marginally loose and she began to adjust its prism a few millimeters with the Force, tracing the edge of the weapon's hilt with her fingernail to check the calibration. The gesture was soothing, familiar as a meditation exercise, even in this dark place.

"It seems we have a little time left after all," Malak chuckled in her ear. She turned her face to his, felt the buzz of energies where his shade brushed her lips. His ghostly hand closed over hers holding the lightsaber. "I would adjust the frequency another five millimeters," he added. "For a clean cut."

"Bad for the lens-" and then Revan laughed, for that no longer mattered.

Above them the Force surged. The ceiling rumbled again. Not difficult to extrapolate that the Fragment had either freed the hapless Bezal-bonded pair or ended them.

Freed, I think, whispered Sheris.

Of course freed. The Fragment was predictable to a fault. "You'll need to take care of her," Revan warned Malak. "She's not going to like this."

"I will, Red, " promised Malak. "Forever."

Xxx

I was fifteen before Ma let me come along on the Mercy Missions. Probably wouldn't have even done that except my younger sister had the Force a little… so she had to come for training-and then Bassy asked for me to come too.

Bassy's twin Beyo never did go, but he never seemed to mind. He was the one out of us three who wanted to be a farmer. Might have worked out better for his psyche if my 'rents had bought land worth farming, but Ma always liked a view and Da just wanted a few hundred kilometers between us and the neighbors. When the twins grew up, Beyo said the hell with us all and deported himself back to Deralia.

He's a bartender there, now. Not sure what ever happened with the farming.

But yeah. There I was, a hayseed from the Dafelli Reef, running rescue missions with a pack of Jedi-and Ma. See, the Jedi needed her to fly the ship. Or that was the excuse she always used with Da.

Maybe it was even true in the beginning, when it was just the two of them: my Ma and General Sheris Loran, the Forever Padawan.

"A Smuggler's Tale: Good Works Along the Reef," Captain Abasen Organa-Wen. 3918 BBY

- compiled by Archivist Lanna T'so, University of Coruscant

XXX

"Tell-her-I'm-in-the-fresher!" Polla sang to herself, mimicking Bossypants. "Tell her I'm in the fresher? What's Bossypants gonna do? Blow the damn tomb up?" Then again… the woman knew something about explosives.

Polla looked up at the sky uneasily. More clouds gathering. Lightning. Another day in paradise.

"When we get out of here I'm never coming back," she vowed to that sky. "I mean it!"

As if the planet was listening, (and given everything, who was Polla to say it wasn't?), the black and yellow lightshow above the Temple of the Damned winked out. A minute later, a pale figure appeared in the doorway, carrying what looked like a body. "Help me!" Revan called from the door.

It took Polla another few, incredulous eye blinks to realize that the unconscious sent half-draped over the naked glowing woman's shoulder was Carth's kid. Carth's naked kid. And just when that registered, so did Mekel Jin, emerging from the shadows behind Revan. Took another blink to realize that Mekel (also naked) was levitating a few centimeters off the ground-and unconscious. And behind him the Zabrak kid was floating too. Out like lights.

Why do Sith rituals always have a nudity clause? More than half a year of her life on this damned planet and Polla wasn't any closer to an answer on that one. "Help you... how? Which one do you want me to make float?"

"What?" Revan approached carrying Carth's kid while the others bobbed behind. In a different setting it would have been funny.

"I said-" Polla broke into a jog to catch up, meet the woman halfway. "-looks like you wore 'em out, already. And I don't do orgies."

"Ew." But a glimmer of humor made those green eyes narrow, made the glowing woman almost smile.

"Did we win?" Polla added. "Tell me you kicked his ass?"

"Not yet." The smile faded. Behind her, Zepth and Mekel dropped in slow-motion to the ground, flopping like de-gilled fish. Revan lowered Dustil with her arms, laying him down next to the others. "I have to go back." The light from her skin made Revan's face look like a mask, made her body look unreal. A line of blood trickled from her nose. "Get Dar to help load the kids. I don't think there's anything physically wrong... but she'll need to run scans. Drug Zepth as soon as you can-let's keep the Emperor knocked out until I can possess him. Dar will know which drugs to use-"

Until you can possess- Polla tried not to shudder. "Uh… Bossypants is in the fresher."

The Jedi nodded, eyes slipping past Polla as if this was all routine. "Oh. When she's done, get her to help. You'll need to take off as soon as possible. There are more… Valkorion has more priests... coming. I have to go."

"To the fresher?"

"Huh?" The woman with Polla's memories didn't crack another smile. She looked like something out of a Grass Priest fable. Glowing, with patterns of light swirling all over her skin. "You… you'll need to go home. After this. R-return to your family. Don't let Dar drag you into any of her schemes." She wiped her bleeding nose. "Go home and stay there. Promise me, Polla."

"No shit, space-brain! Hey. Uh… good luck." Polla leaned forward and hugged the other woman, pushing past the naked awkwardness. Revan's skin felt too hot, the bones in her shoulders too sharp. But when Polla closed her eyes, the glow didn't matter. Revan could've been any sent she loved. Ma. Cousin Sera. Anyone. "Guess I'll see you again anyway, right? When you possess Zepth and that lady from Chessna my Ma keeps in the basement?"

"Yes." A hand patted her back stiffly, and then the other woman's arms tightened. Their heads bumped together and Polla felt the woman's dry lips brush her cheek. "For luck," Revan said.

Polla kept her eyes closed so she didn't have to do it back. "Maybe we can let that lady from Chassna go when I get back," she muttered. "You'll leave her alone, right?"

"I have to go back in, now," the Jedi evaded her question. "I'm going to finish this."

"Bye, then." It felt like they'd already said that a lot. Polla didn't open her eyes again until the arms released her, until the footsteps had moved away.

Revan went back the way she'd come-a glowing silhouette disappearing into the darkness of the Temple. Maybe Bossypants was waiting in there to blow her up. Nothing made sense. This wasn't some holo-vid with a happy ending. How could they be heroes, when they were giving Tenny-Bro what he wanted? How could they be heroes when that asshole had won?

"Damnit," Polla Organa said to no one. She wiped her eyes.

One of the bodies at her feet stirred. Mekel's hand twitched, then flopped dead again. Revan had said something about more priests coming. They had a limited amount of time.

Polla reckoned Jin was the skinniest. She grabbed his arms, and slung them over her shoulders, staggering for the ramp. Made it halfway up before he slid on the wrong side of her back, nearly pulling her down with him.

"Gotta be a better way." Polla went back into the Hawk to look for a hoverlift.

Xxx

"We Jedi who had known Revan in life as in death will never forget that day. It was not the first time I had felt her life end in the Force. But it was to be the last. I recall that I was sharing a meal with Carth Onasi when I felt the Force scream like it had been rent asunder-"

-Master Yuthura Ban, Speech to the Jedi on Tython, on the Occasion of the Temple Opening, 3925 BBY

- compiled by Archivist Lanna T'so, University of Coruscant

Xxx

From the upper levels of the Dark Temple, the passage to the tomb was treacherous and half-filled with rubble. When Revan looked down, she saw that the very bricks of the place were filled with bones.

Sacrifices, Tenebrae whispered, smugly. She had driven him out of Zepth only to have him lodge inside of her own skull like a fat kuer-tick. Generations of insects. Their power and purpose now ours, my Starfire-

"Shut up!" Revan raised the ragged barriers of her mind-a gesture equivalent to using a translucent energy shield for privacy. This is MINE. My tomb. My death. We're going to spend eternity together, already. Leave me alone for this.

Are you sure? The process is quite painful-

Get out! Just as Valkorion had propelled Revan into the Sith's body in Carth's chambers she tried to expel him from hers. The result was less than satisfactory, like trying to cough up the sea. But nonetheless, he retreated.

As you wish. I will wait for you. His mocking whisper became distant with her sharp exhale. Perhaps... in the body of Lord Nondik watching your husband, or that Weequay stalking your child-?

Go. Just go.

[Come,] the tomb itself murmured to her. [Starfire Unit will repair the eroded interface. Eliminate the intruder.]

Yes, Revan thought to it, squeezing through the gap in the wall, past the rubble that had buried another Emperor's Voice not so long ago. There, the cracked carbonite frame and more rubble from the ceiling above. The air seemed to shift before her eyes, thick with ghosts. Somewhere she thought she heard the sound of bells.

And behind the rubble, her tomb.

"Finally." She closed her eyes.

[Come,] the ancient mainframe whispered in Rakatan. [Primary Repair Device: Initialize. Come-]

The web of stars extended; the presence of each and every life connected like a spray of lights. Not just sentients. Plants, stone, planets . Entire star systems.

It's beautiful.

All possessed the same marker, that Rakatan stamp. The Builders were as gods and everything they had fashioned held their signature-a passcode that only she could unlock. Now, Revan would join them-a part of her, finally complete. Regret was a small thing, a clumsy torch flickering out. Resentment flared a little longer, welling in her throat with the salt-taste of tears. I did not want this. I never asked for this-but now-

"Ahem. You'll need to open the tomb, Fragment."

The sound of someone's throat clearing in darkness nearly made Revan jump out of her skin. Dar stood up, dimly illuminated by a flickering blue light, emerging from the shadows on the other side of the plinth. She was dressed only in her skivs and holding her unlit saber. "I can't do it myself."

"You're here?" Revan said stupidly. She had sensed nothing. Lost in the blaze of strength, the scream of her own power, Dar had been invisible.

"Yes. I have a plan." The woman lifted her eyebrow, managing to look dignified in a breastband and trunks.

"Of course you do." Obvious in a heartbeat what that plan was. In that heartbeat Revan wanted to laugh, to call Dar a fool as Bastila had once mocked Revan, but the bitterness died in her throat. "I'd say let me guess, but I already know."

"I believe it is the only way." Dar looked too calm. Meaning the opposite. Perhaps that was the reason for the saber. As if the blade could stop Revan-

"Would it work?" Revan moved. The closer she came to the tomb, the brighter the light became. The crystal dome began to shimmer, illuminating the pale of Dar's skin, the silver gleam off her saber's hilt.

This is the crucible, the cold voice whispered in her mind. One last temptation. Your final check, Revan-

"I believe so." Her counterpart stood calmly, Malak's ghost behind her. "Mal agrees."

"Ah." This close, Revan could see that the blue glow was Malak's face. His translucent arms wrapped around Dar and there was a furrow in his brow. "Well, if Revan and Malak think it's a great idea… count me in."

Why the underwear? Why the saber? Those pieces didn't fit.

Dar gave a small laugh, as if she didn't get the joke. "I thought we would have to explain it to you."

"You still need to explain how it will work."

"I am confident it will work," Dar amended, meaning she had no fracking idea.

"I have a feeling it will work," added Malak. "I cannot see the future, Red. But I have a feeling-"

Frack your feelings, she told the man she'd killed. This is between her and me.

Malak solidified from the shadows as Revan's eyes adjusted until he seemed nearly flesh. A stranger's face, whole and handsome, save for the lines of strain around his mouth. His expression tugged a numb place inside of her heart. "Just listen, Red."

"I tried again to open the tomb," Dar continued. "Just now."

"You tried and failed," Revan pointed out.

Her counterpart smiled. Still holding that unlit saber. "Yes. I need your help."

"You said before it didn't open for you." The tomb would open for Revan. The place where the Preserver had scratched her arm before throbbed in sudden agony-no, not agony-but -

Longing. It has a taste for me now, and I for it-

[Come,] the tomb whispered. [Eliminate the imposter.]

"It won't open for me," her other self corrected. "That's why I need you."

"Polla said you were in the fresher." The call from the tomb was like an itch between Revan's eyes. She fought it off -for now, for now- -approaching the other woman from the other side of the plinth. There were the indentations for hands on the curved dome that Revan remembered-places for her hands to rest. She also remembered reaching inside, the sting of the thing there, the Preserver-that metal thing, rising to taste her flesh. The dome's light brightened at her approach, washing out Dar, fading the bright cap of her hair, reducing her eyes to gray, and her skin to shadow.

"Don't come any closer!" Her duplicate held up her metal hand. The one not holding a lightsaber hilt.

"Do not heed its call," Malak added.

Revan laughed. "You know I can't open the thing without touching it, Revan."

"I know. But wait." Dar blinked and stepped back again. "Change first," she added, nodding at a neatly-piled stack of clothes on the floor. "Best do that first." In only her skivs she looked frail, the angles of her bones poking at the curves of her skin.

"Are you gonna give me the lightsaber?" Humor her, the cold voice whispered. You are the stronger, you are the victor. Humor her, we don't want to kill her-

"I can't," Dar blinked.

"Ah." Revan picked up the underrobe. "Keeping the underwear, too, huh?"

Dar'Revan laughed, a silvery chuckle that seemed all wrong on her. "It did not seem necessary to take off my undergarments." a red eyebrow raised. "But if-"

"No… I'm… . I'm fine." She looked down at her bare skin and snorted before glaring back at them. Was Malak staring at her? Take a good, long look, asshole. "What about the saber?"

Dar shrugged. "The next bit is a bit hard to manage without-"

"Without another set of hands?" Despite herself, Revan snickered.

"Quite." Dar blinked. A slight smile tugged at her mouth and she raised the saber hilt.

Its blade ignited, sparking hot and blue between them.

Xxx

"Malachor D'Reev, thank you for giving me this introduction on behalf of the Senate. If your mother was still with us, I believe she would ask the people to forgive the informality and give you a hug. Permit me to do the same…."

-Excerpt from Padawan Sheris Loran's First Speech on the Senate Floor, 3951 BBY

- compiled by Archivist Lanna T'so, University of Coruscant

XXX

The Captive Arm's command quarters were luxurious, but still a damned prison for one more night. In the morning, a Fleet cruiser was coming to take them to Coruscant for the rest of Carth's kark-nest of a court martial.

Carth raised his glass. "Toast to our last day in this pest-hole?"

"Absolutely." Yuthura smiled and took a sip from her own goblet.

He smiled back. "Have some ideas I want to run by you about my Senate speech."

"I look forward to hear-" The Twi'lek woman froze, goblet half-raised to her lips. Her hand trembled and the glass fell and shattered on the floor. "Oh!"

"You okay?" Carth steadied her arm.

Yuthura swayed on her feet. Her eyes were blank. The wine glass she'd dropped had shattered on the durasteel floor, liquid spattering in a pattern that looked uncomfortably like blood. "My... apologies," she whispered. "The Force…."

The broken glass didn't matter to Carth, but the Twi'lek wore light slippers, scarcely more than slips of cloth, and so he knelt down and began sweeping up the pieces of glass with his hands. A shard pricked his finger as he straightened, hands full of wine-stained crystal. "What happened?"

Yuthura's lekku were wrapped tightly around her neck and she looked three shades paler than she had a second ago. "A cry in the Force."

His heart froze. "Dustil? Or Revan?"

"Both, I think." The Twi'lek glanced at their silent spectator, but Nondik's eyes, which had begun to glow only a few moments before, had returned to their normal yellow. The bound man glared at them both and spat on the ground.

"Something must have happened on Kaas." They'd been expecting something to happen on Kaas. Didn't make it easier. "Damnit! We should be there!"

"Were we allowed to leave, even with the new hyperspace routes we would never make it, Carth…" Her voice trailed off, but he saw the concern in her violet eyes. "By the time we arrived-"

"I-I know." He paced back to Lord Nondik and considered knocking the bastard unconscious again, just for fun. "Told you Revan promised to get Dustil out. Have to believe she will. Was… is Dustil okay?"

Yuthura looked at their table, the untouched meal. "I did not sense death."

Also didn't answer my damn question.

"So loyal to those who care not-" the possessed Sith shook his head from side-to-side and spat again. "The null and the traitor!"

Carth tried to ignore the scum. "I can put out a galactic-wide bulletin on the Hawk. Denis and Jiya won't fight me-they owe us everything."

"It may be time for you to collect what is due," Yuthura nodded. "We did win their war."

This song and dance- Revan would have called it a kath and hessi show- this song and dance would be over soon. The Imperial Fleet had gone quiet around Kaas. Jiya had chosen to pull Republic forces instead of starting another war-for reasons that still didn't make sense to Carth. And no word from Revan or Dustil-just Nondik the madman's babbling.

The madman laughed again. "Your son was a weak failure," he hissed. "And your wife belongs to His Luminance, now, worm."

Lord Nondik. If Carth had the guts, he'd send him to the brig, but he had to know if she would come back to him-

You told her not to come back, he reminded herself. You were right to say it.

"A bulletin on the Hawk is an excellent idea." Yuthura seemed to have recovered most of her composure, but her hand still trembled. "I sensed pain. They may be injured or incapacitated."

Did you sense Dustil getting injured? It took most of Carth's control not to pepper her with more questions, but he knew by now she'd tell him if it was serious. "Revan will get Dustil," he reminded them both. "And Mekel. She promised."

"I have every faith in her abilities." Yuthura walked back to the table and sat down.

His hands were still full of glass. Carth dumped it in the wall chute and went back to the remains of their meal.

Xxx

That's right. What I said before-quiet, there. We'll have questions later-but it's true. It's all true. The Revan who fought in the Mandalorian Wars, joined the Sith, was betrayed by her apprentice, reprogrammed by the Jedi, and sent after the Sith Emperor to destroy his Machine Ships-that Revan was a woman, and my family has hidden this information for more than two hundred years. Why?

Why, indeed? That is why I organized this symposium. To search for answers.

The monographs I'm about to share with you were sealed in a gene-locked vault that Senator Loriom was kind enough to unlock for me. We may not know very much about their authors: Aeryn Loran, Hoth Lamar, Abasen Wen, Ollivair Korr Loanin, and the rest-but someone sealed this legacy for a reason.

We are here to discuss that reason.

-Excerpt from "An Historian's Introduction to the Machine Wars: Lecture by Kree Usam Racharn for the Revan: Fact or Fiction Symposium, SHWL," University of Coruscant Press. 3653 BBY

-compiled by Archivist Lanna T'so.

Xxx

The sun was below the treeline when the hooded figure in the stained white robe came stumbling up the stairs. There had been no explosions and the Temple had stopped glowing. The earth had stopped shaking, and Polla had started, shivering in the sudden chill and the damp rain.

"There you are!" she called. "Finally, Bossypants! You look-" her voice broke off and she rushed forward, half-afraid the other woman would fall down before she got there.

"Polla." There was dried blood around the Jedi's mouth, like she'd had a nosebleed just like the other one. She was white-lipped and grimacing like she was hurt.

"Did you kill her?" A part of Polla was pissed, but the other part knew Bossypants wouldn't have done it-not unless there wasn't any other choice.

"No." The woman's voice was hoarse, as if she'd lost it. "She… went into the tomb."

"Oh. Well you look like you're gonna pass out. We should get you outta here."

Bossypants took another unsteady breath. "I think I'll be happy if I never have to set foot on this planet again."

"That can be arranged."

"For a while." Bossypants stumbled, and Polla instinctively grabbed for her arm.

"Oww!"

"What the-"

"Don't!" Bossypants jerked away from her, stepping back.

Polla let her hand drop. Her eyes looked up at the woman and then down. The fake arm had been loose. Had twisted off, nearly, in her hand.

She looked at the other woman again. Green eyes stared back at hers. They blinked. That mouth that was usually either blank or sneering politely was white-lipped, clenched, like the woman was in pain.

"Having some trouble with your prosthesis?" Polla kept her voice even.

The other woman nodded. "The connection's loose. I don't know how to fix it."

Polla nodded. "We can see what's in the medbay that'll help." A thousand questions demanded to be answered, but not now. Now, the wind blew that smell of charred flesh and bone she'd gotten all too used to-whole planet stank of it, but-

Are you…? Polla wanted to flat-out say it, but the question died in her throat. The woman could have been either of them. She could have been anyone, if Polla wanted to jump on the conspiracy train. That Genoharadan shape-shifter. Ban in a holomask. Even Malak's avenging ghost. "I got the kids loaded," Polla added. "Sulkypants and your cousin. And Zepth. Found a hoverlift. Uh… Revan said before that Zepth… that you'd know how much to drug him… if you'd want him drugged. He's still out of it. They all are."

The woman glanced toward the blasted-open Temple doors. "I think that's for the best."

"So I should drug him? Or all of them?"

"Whatever." The woman sounded irritated. "We'll figure it out on the way."

"On the way... where?" Home, Polla thought wistfully. "Need me to take you guys to Coruscant, or-"

"Not... Coruscant." The other woman shook her head. "Not yet." Her lips were too pale, and her flesh hand was white-knuckled holding the other one.

"Nar Shaddaa?" Polla guessed. "We going after your kid and the box?"

"That kriffing box." The woman seemed to sway on her feet-and in that instant, Poilla was sure-

"We'll talk on the ship," Bossypants snapped, sounding more like herself. She staggered up the ramp. "Vitiate's expecting company. We'll need to leave before their arrival."

Xxx

"Friends, Senators, Gentlebeings of the Galaxy. Thank you for your kind invitation. The Senate Chamber is a lofty perch for a girl from Hoth, and I am both honored and astonished by your generosity and kindness. I was not expecting the Republic Cross of Glory and I believe I cannot accept the honor alone. Please, Gentlebeings, allow me to take this honor now not only for Sheris Loran-but also for the late Revan Starfire..."

-Excerpt from Padawan Sheris Loran's First Speech on the Senate Floor, 3951 BBY

- compiled by Archivist Lanna T'so, University of Coruscant

Xxx

"Oh!" Yuthura's soft cry might have been lost to the chatter of the newsvids he'd pulled up if Carth hadn't been listening for it all along.

Expecting it.

"What is it?" But as he turned around, the answer was obvious on her ashen face.

"She's gone, Carth." She blinked and wiped her eyes again. "This time, I am sure. I am sorry."

He looked grimly at Nondik again, the words of their final farewell echoing in his head.

XXX

"You could kiss me first-"

XXX

"Just focus on Dustil," Carth ordered Yuthura, now, shaking off the memory. He had no right to order the Twi'lek to do anything, but-whether Revan joining the Emperor was bad or good… it was already done. "Do you sense Dustil? Or Mekel? You told me there was a connection. You said masters and padawans have a-a connection-"

Her eyes wouldn't meet his. "I'm… not sure. I did not feel their deaths-"

"But you felt hers. Just now. Revan's death. You felt my wife die-"

"As I did before." Yuthura's lekku dropped. "Agony in the Force. Pain. And then… a sundering."

But she wasn't dead before. She didn't die before- Carth's eyes went back to Nondik, now slumped in his chair. One thing war has taught him. There were worse things than dying. Too damned many worse things. "What about you?" he barked at the Sith Lord. "Is she in there with you, now?"

As if to spite him, Lord Nondik let out a rattling snore.

XXX

"If Revan was with us today I am sure she would come up with a better speech than my poor example, but since she is not, you will have to make do with me.…"

-Excerpt from Padawan Sheris Loran's First Speech on the Senate Floor, 3951 BBY

- compiled by Archivist Lanna T'so, University of Coruscant

XXX

Standing before their tomb with a lit saber and Malak at her back, Revan had grown hoarse explaining the obvious to the Fragment. The Fragment had claimed she knew what to do, but she knew nothing. How could she? She had never had the luxury of time before.

That would change, but Revan was running out of time to explain things. The Fragment felt like a coiled spring in the Force.

"Now, Red," Malak had murmured in her thoughts, as the tomb opened. Her blade had lashed right quickly, even as the other woman jerked upright, the howl forming on her lips as she stumbled backwards-their final farewell lost in her screams.

Screams had not mattered. The Fragment had been wordless and whimpering like a shock-sticked bantha when Revan perched on the side of her tomb.

Entering the coffin had been like slipping into an empty bath.

Somewhere Revan imagined she heard the sound of bells.

Then the domed lid closed and the metal interior shifted, red and blue lights flashing, even through her closed eyelids. Something sharp pierced Revan's hand, then her other arm, right above the stump. She heard her breath hiss, her voice whimper. The walls of the chamber pressed tight and close. A rushing noise, and then the tomb began to fill with something wet and viscous, cold on her skin.

Stasis, Revan thought as a mask clamped down over her face, sealing off all light with the finality of space. She tried to open her eyes and couldn't. More sharp punctures, a line of them against her spine, than another across her brow. She tried to move, involuntarily panicked, and found all of her limbs frozen. Then agony as what felt like blaster bolts paralyzed her still-twitching eyes-

Buried alive. Paralyzed, pierced, like that thing in the tomb, that thing was screaming-

How could she survive-even a year?

No wonder Vitiate is utterly insane- her muscles tensed and fought. Help! Fragment. I take it back! Take your sithspawned tomb back-

"It's been five minutes." Voice a whisper from the base of her splitting skull. "You used to be tougher than this, Red."

It's started, Revan thought. Losing my mind already. But better to hallucinate Malak than live with the mad emperor for all eternity.

"We'll have to deal with him too." Mal sounded amused. "But not alone. Never alone, Red. Ever again."

"But you said you couldn't follow me. You said we had to say goodbye." Her lips were moving, which was impossible.

The pressure around her limbs abruptly lifted, replaced by the feeling of skin, another body, warm and solid, pressing into her own. Revan's eyes opened on an expanse of pale muscled skin, a familiar naked chest.

"I was wrong." Warm breath tickled her ear. "Master Jopheena told me that I was still bound to the present, to my attachments. I see now she meant I was bound to you."

"So this is the afterlife of bliss, then? The one we never deserved?" Perhaps their connection had failed. This hallucination of her dead husband could be the last refuge of Revan's failing brain, her consciousness seeking platitudes of a lie-

What is wrong with you? Sheris chided.

Malak laughed "Oh, my Revvie. Always looking for the worst! Open your eyes."

"I have." Impossible that they were really her eyes, or eyes at all, but Revan looked up to see her husband's smiling face.

"Hello, my heart." Malak sounded amused, he who had rarely had time to be amused. His mouth turned up at the corners, wide, and ordinary, and familiar. Korrie had his smile, Revan had often thought, although always a bittersweet thought-because the memories of that smile were so easily subsumed by what had come after-

There will be time for grief, Sheris whispered. Time to heal what we have broken, to mourn, to fix our mistakes. But take this time for us , Revan. Take this victory. Earned.

"Mal." Revan felt her mouth smile, even in the impossibility of the white room, the circular bed, the billowing curtains and the Coruscanti skyline behind them. "This cannot be real."

His wide mouth kissed her forehead, feather light, making Revan shiver. "I can't explain it any more than you can."

"An hallucination," she told him. "Mine. You're not here at all-"

No, Sheris said. Reach out. He is here, too. The Enemy.

The-other-

-Vitiate beats his fists against the door of their chamber, against the dome of their tomb, his processional of priests screaming-but he is too late, too late-

As if behind a veil Revan heard the Emperor's howl of rage. Easily ignored, as easily as pressing a button to activate a blast-shield.

"We are all in the Force, Revan. Now, and forever." Warm lips brushed hers.

Objectively, Revan knew her own body was preserved like an insect in ice, trapped underground in an ancient Sith tomb. Objectively, she knew this room wasn't real. That Malak was long dead.

"Red," Malak-or his simulacrum-murmured. "Bright One. It is me."

It feels like him, the emotional part of her, the-the Sheris part of her whispered. Whatever comes we will face-together.

"Together," Malak murmured. "My strength. Your wit, Revan. And Sheris's heart. We may be more than our match for the enemy."

"For a time," Revan allowed. "But nothing lasts forever."

What is wrong with you? Sheris sighed and Revan laughed and embraced their lover-for the other woman was right. Their triumph was no small thing-and for a time was enough.

Xxx

"As I say these few words, emissaries from the Sith Empire are meeting with the Republic Chancellor and Master Meetra Surik. Today, they'll make diplomatic history by signing the first true Peace Accord between Kaas and Coruscant. They are the true heroes of this day, not I-uh, not me."

"I am merely a woman from Hoth. A humble Padawan of the Jedi Order. I have never studied intergalactic treaties, but I think this peace is what Revan Starfire would have wanted."

-Excerpt from Padawan Sheris Loran's First Speech on the Senate Floor, 3951 BBY

- compiled by Archivist Lanna T'so, University of Coruscant

XXX

Polla stood in the doorway of the medbay. The red-headed woman had packed her whole arm in kolto, layering it over the prosthesis. The rawness of the wound was readily apparent-and so was the greenish pallor on her face, and the puke bucket next to her on the floor.

"Guess you know we're coming out of hyperspace," Polla said, nodding at the bucket. "Kids are still out. Who're we telling them you are? Seriiina Starr, or some other wash-up in a holomask?"

A faint smile appeared on Revan's face. "How long did it take you to figure it out?"

"For sure? First time you ran for the fresher when we jumped out of the Kaas System."

"Really." A red eyebrow arched. "That long?"

"I twigged something was up right off, but I wasn't sure… thought maybe you'd just killed her and were trying to fake me out."

Revan sighed. "In a way I did kill her. She went into the tomb instead of me. Her body can't survive it."

"But it was her idea, right? You didn't push her in?"

"Her idea. Yes." The woman grimaced. "Her idea to hack off my arm, too."

"Did it work?"

"Well, the arm did fall off." Revan wiggled the golden fingers at her. "I assume it went into the tomb, too. Didn't see it lying around after, but I wasn't thinking very clearly at the time-"

"You know what I mean." Polla approached cautiously.

"I don't know." The woman rubbed her head with her artificial hand. Looked like some of the fingers were sticking. "Tenebrae's gone-and he seems to have taken my Force with him… or most of it. Does that mean we won?"

"So something happened."

The woman nodded at the comm-rack on the wall of the med-bay. "Yes. Something happened. I've been checking the nets. No word from Imperial space on any channel I could raise, and no word from the Republic about Imperial space. Just… stuff about the Republic winning the Machine Wars. High Admiral Rensha resigning…." her voice trailed off as she held up the gold arm again, tapping its side. Her smile twisted. "We might have won."

"Did you know Carth's getting court-martialed?" Polla offered. "I went looking, too-just now."

"Yes." The red head ducked, like Revan was trying to avoid her eyes. "But they can't be serious."

"No one seems to think they are." Which was a relief, because Polla didn't think anyone on this ship was in any shape to stage a rescue. "Revan, I-"

"Not Revan. Call me Sheris." The woman sighed. "Gonna have to get used to that."

"Not Desidirata?"

That got Polla a real smile. "Maybe on special occasions." Revan muttered something under her breath and opened a panel on the arm, then selected a small laser-pen and started soldering. The golden fingers twitched. She looked a thousand sectors away. "What-you were just asking me something?"

"Yeah?" Polla had a million questions. She wasn't sure which one the other woman meant.

"You said, 'but, Revan-and I said call me Sheris-"

"Oh. Right. But what happened? How did it happen? Bossypants tried to go into the tomb before and it didn't work-so why now?"

"She tried to open the tomb before and it didn't work. This time, I opened the tomb." The Jedi's gaze skittered away. "And she was the one who went in."

"And your arm?"

"She cut it off." A grimace. "Obviously."

"Why-?"

"That's what I asked." Revan laughed. "But if she's right, Vitiate is weakened, now. Makes sense."

"How does chopping off your arm make sense?"

"It makes sense if I am to be Sheris," Revan said flatly, sounding too Deralian to ever be Bossypants. "With Dar in the tomb instead of me, the Emperor is diminished."

"But then… she's trapped in there with him? Her and not you? Or is she just dead?"

"Yes. I think… trapped." Revan rubbed her temples. "I can barely feel the Force but I think I… I think I'd sense it if she were dead. I don't think she is-yet." She looked up at Polla, looking nothing like the other one at all. "Not… exactly."

"Great." Polla tried to sound like she meant it. "Still haven't explained the arm. If you did it to fool me, should've hidden that puke bucket." Something awful occurred to her-so terrible it had to be a joke. "It Flyboy you're hiding from? Are you running off with Malak's ghost?"

The woman with her memories made an inelegant snort that Bossypants couldn't have done in a thousand years. "No! She said that… being Sheris Loran gives me a freedom that Revan Starfire will never have."

Really? "But everyone in the Fleet knew who she really was-"

"Ah. But will they admit it? Fleet can't afford the scandal-or that's what Dar thought anyway." Revan paused. "She may be right."

"You think you can make the galaxy think you're Sheris-but those in the know just think you're Bossypants pretending to be Sheris?" It made Polla's head spin, and hell, she had experience pretending to be one of them .

Revan wiggled her golden fingers again. "Revan Starfire sacrificed herself to destroy the Empire. And she sent us back to tell the rest of the galaxy the truth." Her voice hardened, almost defensively. "That is the truth. I won't be lying."

"But did she save everyone?" Polla remembered watching Bossypants fight that terentatek. Fighting even when she was dying, when she'd already lost. "Is it finally over?"

Revan's expression went carefully blank. "I don't know. I can barely sense the lives on this ship." She glanced at the arm again. "Perhaps that's a good sign."

"Bossypants was always right," Polla muttered. "Even when she was wrong. But you just let her go in there-kill herself-"

"No, actually." A choked laugh, and those green eyes met Polla's again. "I mean, I… I wanted her to be right. It was logical. But in the end…" her voice dropped as if she was ashamed. "In the end... I-I wanted to go into that tomb more than I ever wanted anything in my life."

In that moment, Polla realized that she'd never envy Revan Starfire again. "Well," she said, trying for levity. "It's not like you've lived very long-not a lot to compare it to."

Instead of laughing at the joke Revan just nodded.

"Now…." Polla was gonna be positive even if it got them both sent to a spice mine for insurance fraud. "Say it worked. We've won. What do you want to do with the rest of your life?"

The woman with her memories looked grim as Bossypants. "That's not the point. It's what Sheris would do that matters."

Polla snorted. "You mean what Bossypants would have done pretending to be Sheris-"

"I mean both." Revan's fingers picked at a stain on the front of her white robes. Bossypants's white robes. They were matted with dust and she was worried about a stain. Didn't seem like her. Maybe it was part of her Bossypants act. "In the end, it wasn't just Revan who went into the tomb. Sheris was a part of her, too."

"Like us." Polla meant it to be a joke, but Revan looked too serious.

"Maybe. A-a little." Her voice lost its assurance. "I know there's a lot of you in me."

"Of course." Polla didn't want to get into it. "But she was a tricky one. Hard to get anything past her. It was hard, I mean." Poor Bossypants.

"Malak stopped me from… from stopping her." Green eyes blinked like the woman might cry as she stared past Polla, straight at the wall.

"Oh. Thanks, Malak." Polla turned to wave at the place where Revan's eyes seemed to be focused.

"He's not… he disappeared when she went into the tomb."

"Maybe he went with her," Polla offered. That didn't make any sense, but neither did Force ghosts, body-stealing Sith, or fleets of sentient ships who wanted to bomb planets.

Revan looked at her new arm again. "It's nice to think so."

"Sure," Polla forced a laugh. Revan and Malak in the Force together with the Emperor. "Nice. But what's Carth gonna say? I don't think he signed up to marry Sheris, or Bossypants pretending to be Sheris-that'll raise some eyebrows around Fleet, I bet."

"We're not gonna be around to find out what Carth thinks." Revan took a deep breath. "Polla, I need one more favor. I wouldn't ask… it's not fair that I'm asking, but I can't do this without you."

"If you want me to pretend to be you with Carth, you should know I didn't fool him before. Not for one hot second."

"No, it's not Carth. I don't want to talk about Carth."

"But you need me for your plan to be Sheris forever?"

One eyebrow raised. Just like Bossypants. "At least at first." Her smile twisted. "You know I'm a terrible pilot…."

Xxx

Deena,

You asked me if I'd ever felt as raw as you did when you found out about your father being a Kira.

I did once. Funny story. It's about fathers, too.

Kriffing awkward to admit, but I got my first kiss from my half-sister, Faene Starshine. Didn't know she was my sister at the time-and if you ever mention it in front of Faene we're definitely going back on a break-but that's how it happened. That's how I found out she was my half-sister, too. Her father walked in on us. Only turns out Master Onasi wasn't her father any more than Master Azen Loanin was mine.

(Actually, I lied. I don't ever want a break from you.)

But hear me out. Remember when I told you my family was a little complicated? Turns out my real biological father-and Faene's-is a Sith Lord named Mekel Jin. Lord Jin who is Revan Starfire's cousin.

Yeah , that Mekel Jin. The one Master Onasi keeps bailing out of one jam or another. We'd been going on vacations with the man and his Sith family for years at that point, and nobody ever bothered to bring up why.

Just to make it more complicated, his wife is Myleah's mother, but not Gan's. Even though they're twins.

Hope this makes you feel better. I can laugh about it now, but it took a while.

-Undated datapad attributed to Master Ollivair Loanin, Onderon

[Note: While most records of Revan's relations seem to have been expunged from the galactic record, these tantalizing clues remain. Was Ollivair Loanin (sometimes known as Ollie Korr) the same man as Jedi Master Ollivair, consort to Queen Deena Kira, the successor of the Starshine Dynasty? If so, perhaps the restoration of the monarchy on Onderon was a more amicable process than historians have previously imagined….]

- compiled by Archivist Lanna T'so, University of Coruscant

Xxx

"Crew of the Ebon Hawk-"

Dustil woke up to a dimly-lit room and a voice blasting in Basic over the speakers. He sat up and almost banged his head on an upper bunk stacked above his. "What the frack?" Someone else was breathing there, steady and even as if they were all still asleep.

"Crew of the Ebon Hawk, prepare for boarding-"

"Mekk?" His head felt funny, like everything was muffled. The world felt heavy, like the Force had drained out.

"Mmmf."

"Mekk." Dustil knew it was him, although the how was vague, as vague as his sense of the other man. Dim-like a limb that had fallen asleep.

We were in that Temple. Memory came back like a shot of stim. The Emperor had us, he was using us, he-he had us all-

Dustil remembered dissolving into a pool of light, until between him and Mekel here was nothing left. And now-he tried to reach out with the Force, but it felt like fumbling in the dark in a pressure suit-like his hand reaching for Mekel's had fallen asleep. "What the frack?"

"Crew of the Ebon Hawk , we're sending the boarding party in-"

"Dust?" Mekel said blearily. The bedframe creaked and there was a thunk as he hit his head on the ceiling. "Ow! Someone's yelling."

"Can't get anything past you." Dustil leaned over and looked up.

Mekel was leaning down, mouth twisted with worry. "Are we dead?" A pause. "Where are my pants?"

"Dunno." Dustil stumbled up and across the room to look. The storage cabinet contained clothing for both of them-patched and worn stuff that looked like it had been through a war. Thump of feet hitting the ground and then Mekk streaked past him, going straight for a tattered black robe. Dustil grabbed a set of coveralls that ended up being too short.

"Did our clothes…" Mekel frowned, half-dressed, rubbing his eyes. "Did our clothes melt off in that Temple or was I hallucinating?"

"I don't know." Dustil snapped on the only pair of slippers that came close to fitting him. "What I'd like to know is how the hell we ended up back on the Hawk."

Beneath their feet something banged. Sounded like a blown hatch, half a ship away.

"Frack," Mekel hissed. "We've got company."

"Frack." Dustil didn't see anything that would make a decent weapon. Master Ban had always said that anything could be a weapon, even a fist was deadly in the Force. Dustil looked at his own hands, startled to see the lines of corruption he'd grown so used to were gone. Just a faint trace of silver where they'd been.

But the Force-Dustil tried to levitate one of the slippers that didn't fit, the ones he'd discarded off the floor. Kid stuff.

Nothing happened.

"You look better." Mekk was halfway in the hall already, checking his own reflection in the bulkhead. If he was worried about the company they were about to have it didn't show. "You look a lot better. Where are we?" He tapped his skull as if something was bugging him. "Air pressure's different. I don't think we're on Kaas."

"How the frack should I know?" Dustil tapped his own head. Can you hear me?

There was a long pause. His bondmate's forehead wrinkled. From the way Mekel suddenly looked like he needed a dump he was trying to think back at Dustil. But there was nothing, just a feeling of frustration that could have been Dustil's own.

Mekk's forehead wrinkled again. "Nothing. You?"

"The Force?"

"Of course the fracking Force! It was back before-now it feels broken." Mekel looked irritated. "Did we do something wrong in the ceremony?"

"Did we do something-?" Dustil suddenly wanted to strangle him. "Did we do something wrong in the ceremony you tricked me into?"

"I didn't trick-you were unconscious when we left Oas."

"Oh." Dustil rolled his eyes. "That makes it better."

"We're sending in the boarding party now-" the guy on the speakers sounded really nervous.

Mekel just yawned. "Why are they stalling? We got any weapons?"

Frack weapons. Dustil felt his hands clench. Whatever was coming, they had some banthashit to work out first. "You were going to ditch me and run off with Millifar Ordo before Thalia May fracking tricked you!"

"That's… uh, you were really out of it." Mekel paused. "Remember when Myd came in? With your kids?"

"Only because you do." Mekk had been busy trying to score, had barely even looked at the kids. "You couldn't get it up for her." The thought made Dustil numb. "Then you fracking betrayed us to the Sith Emperor!"

"Hah, hah." Mekk sounded strained. "Yeah. That was… hey… uh, look. There's a note." He pointed at the wall, where a random piece of plimsi was tacked.

Dustil hadn't noticed. Had been more concerned with important poo doo, like where they were. And how the man who betrayed him could stand there like nothing was wrong.

Don't panic, the note read. Plimsi, stuck on the wall with what looked like a strip of medix tape. If you wake up before help comes, don't panic. Dustil, your father is coming. And don't hurt the TSF.

-General Sheris Loran.

"My cousin must've left it. What the frack are the TSF?" Mekel asked-just as the hallway blast door smashed open and a squad of uniformed sents came storming right at them.

Uniformed sents, wearing black and yellow with a very familiar logo.

"TSF. Telos Security Force." Dustil held up his hands to show them-and Mekk-he wasn't gonna fight. The uniform hadn't changed since his mom wore it. "Guess we're on Telos."

"Don't move!" the guy in charge barked. Commander by the stripes Gren, the Aurebeth spelled down the front of his coat.

"Telos?" Mekel looked flummoxed. "Thought the planet was worm food."

"We're on the orbital, dumbass. They've been trying to restore the planet. Didn't you see the briefings when we were fighting in the system?"

"Was kinda busy." Mekel smirked. "Fighting." He raised his voice, directing it at the guards. "You don't want to shoot us. Saved your asses like a week ago! I flew a Mandalorian bomber in your third quadrant against the Machine Ships-"

"Don't move," another guard warned, coming down the hall the opposite way from the others. He was holding Zepth by one arm. The Zabrak looked drunk, swaying on his feet. But his eyes were clear-no sign of possession.

"We're not moving, sir." The sir was automatic for Dustil. His mom had always told him to be polite to the TSF.

"That's right, sir." Mekel grinned, glancing at Dustil as if this was the bad old days.

No! We can't hurt them! Mekel couldn't hear him, but Dustil tried anyway. "Hey, Zepth. Let's all be calm, okay?"

"Uh… Lord Malak-?" The Zabrak looked at him as if he wasn't sure what he should say. Maybe the uniforms confused him. Maybe he thought they were back in Imperial space.

"Malak!" The commander suddenly had his gun out. Didn't look like it was charged to stun, either. "Don't tell me that bastard's alive-"

"No. That's a joke," Mekel added fast. "Uh, sirs. That's a joke. Zepth, hah hah. But my friend, here is Dustil. Dustil Onasi," he added. "And I'm Mekel Jin. Revan Starfire's cousin. She-" a weird look came over his face as if Mekel was having the same realization Dustil was. Revan had wanted to go into that tomb, become one with the Emperor. See all those little lives-

And now she was gone.

"I think she's dead." Mekel's smug smile faded.

The guards all started talking at once-stammering introductions and asking questions. "Captain Onasi's put out a bulletin about the Hawk," the commander told Dustil. He holstered his weapon. "He thought you might be on this ship."

"My dad's here?"

"He's coming as soon as he can. You know, I knew your mother…." Commander Gren was falling all over himself to make nice, now. The words droned on. So glad they were safe. Blah, blah, blah. The Ebon Hawk had popped out of hyperspace, drifting toward the orbital. They'd tractored them in. Found the Zabrak passed out in the cockpit and the life pods missing.

"I sense nothing of Revan." Zepth wrinkled his horns. "Or His Luminance. Even the Force seems… smaller."

"Yeah," Dustil tried to catch Mekk's eye, but the other man was staring at that stupid note from 'General Sheris,' like he needed to believe the woman gave a crap.

"I don't remember flying this ship," Zepth whispered in Ancient Sith. "Someone else was here."

"What's he saying?" Commander Gren was watching closer than he looked.

"He's just hungry," Dustil lied. Revan wasn't here, but they'd seen her mind. The hunger of her. She'd wanted to go into that tomb. And she'd gone. "Revan's gone. Dead. Mekk's right. She's dead." Poor Dad. It was gonna break his heart.

"She sacrificed herself." Mekel looked pissed. "To save everyone. She was a hero."

"She sacrificed herself to save us all from the Sith Emperor," Zepth added in Basic, getting into the swing.

"Right." What was Dustil gonna say? My dad's dead wife wanted to take over the galaxy so she went into the Emperor's tomb? He'd seen her thoughts when they were trapped on those altars clear as day. Dustil wanted to ask the Zabrak if Revan had taken control of the Emperor like she planned, but not in front of this crowd.

Something pricked on the back of his neck. Revan wasn't here and the Force still numb, but something was coming, now-or someone-multiple someones-

Mekel's head turned toward the empty hall almost the same second as Dustil's. They both turned back again. His former bondmate's brow was wrinkled. "Something-"

"Yeah."

The Zabrak felt it, too. Obvious from the way his stance changed. "Force-users?"

"Three," I think. Mekk rubbed his temples, and for a second, Dustil almost felt his own head twinge in sympathy.

Oblivious, Commander Grenn had picked up the note, and was waving it in their faces. "What about General Sheris? She was on the ship, too? Where is she now?"

"Not here. We've made a rather thorough search." A new voice spoke from behind the guards. Crisp. Upper-crust Coruscanti. The kind Mekk imitated because he thought it was hot. "Commander Gren, you and your men may step aside. We will take it from here."

Dustil knew the voice right away, even as identity took a second for his brain to register.

"Frack me," Mekk got it a beat before. "Azen Loanin?"

The TSF forces pivoted to a man, slamming their backs into the walls of the corridor to make room for three Jedi standing there. Three Jedi dressed like Jedi. Robes. Lightsabers. Belly. One of them-

"Hello, Mekel," said Lydie Korr. Very obviously pregnant Lydie Korr. And bringing up the rear of Padawan reunion day was Mical Fracking Jorde.

"We told you to wait for us before proceeding into the ship," Jorde said to Gren.

"Carth Onasi told us there might be injured-"

"It was still a risk. You and your men are quite fortunate there is no threat."

Dustil took a deep breath and reminded himself that wasn't an insult. "Hey, Jorde."

"Dustil." The man nodded.

Mekel blinked. "Lydie. You… you're uh... congratulations! You're gonna have it soon?"

"Him," the Zabrak said softly. "And yes." But her gaze had gone past Mekel to focus on the Zabrak.

"She's having my son," Azen Loanin snapped. Like anyone thought otherwise. "My son will be born any day now."

"Our son. His name is Ollivair," Lydie added absently, staring at Zepth.

"Ollivair Loanin," Loanin added, like Dustil had doubted it.

Dustil hadn't. Not until just that second.

Lydie smiled at the other Zabrak. "It appears that Azen and I aren't the only two with a surprise."

"Oh. Yeah." Mekel gestured. "Hey. Your brother, right? Zepth. See? Told you I knew Lydie."

"Lydie-lu?" Zepth's eyes were as blue as Lydie's. Frack, they even looked alike. His skin was darker, burnished almost red, but the eyes-the way the indentations swirled on their foreheads-they could've been twins.

Twins. Dustil kept forgetting, but there it was again. Twins. They were born. I'm a dad.

"Zepth! It is you!"

"You're just having one? Telos had twins," Mekel bragged to Loanin.

"Myleah and Ganesh," Dustil, said numbly. If they were still alive. Maybe Mydia had eaten them or something. Mekk had barely looked at them. Dustil hadn't seen them since they'd been in that tank.

"Ah." Azen nodded stiffly. "Congratulations, Dustil."

"Uh, thanks." I didn't do anything, he wanted to say.

"Lydie-lu!" Now the Zabrak were embracing, and the TSF were filling out of the corridor, and Loanin was seething. Had to be an ass to look that jealous of someone's blood relative.

Like he was above it all, Mical Jorde stood in the corner, watching. His eyes were half-lidded and that lazy smile on his mouth made Dustil want to punch him. "And where is Padawan Sheris?" Jorde's eyes were looking at Mekel, but Mekk, Dustil couldn't help but notice, was still ogling Lydie-lu's pregnant ass.

"Not here. She left a note," Dustil shrugged. "You two close?"

"No. But there is at least one missing escape pod. She must have jettisoned before the ship docked." Mical nodded like he was a master detective. "Gren, have your men conducted a search of the spaceport?"

"We're conducting a search here." Gren said.

Dustil shrugged. "Maybe Sheris wanted to go on an intergalactic cruise. Why the frack are you here, Jorde?"

"We are here to restore the Jedi Order." Jorde always had been a pompous ass. "We had hoped that Sheris would be able to tell us precisely what happened to Revan-"

"We can do that," Mekel bragged. "We saw everything."

"We all felt her end," Loanin added. "You'll have to tell us how."

"You were injured, too," Lydie said to Mekel, still hanging on to her brother. "I sensed… you."

Loanin's head turned toward them and for a second he didn't look like a Jedi at all. In another second his eyes met Dustil's and the snarl slid off his face like oil, leaving a blank expression behind.

I get it, Dustil thought. He'd just had more experience hiding it than Azen. It would be years before they were friends, but in that instant he felt a twinge of sympathy.

Mekk the Oblivious didn't notice. "Yeah. Revan was my last living relative. She thought she could save the galaxy if she went into that tomb, so she went in-" he launched into a description of the Dark Temple and a garbled explanation of what the tomb was. Like they knew what it was. More than half of Mekk's garbage was banthashit, designed to impress the knocked-up Zabrak.

That was Mekel Jin. In that moment, Dustil realized you could love someone and not give a frack at the same time. "What about your moms, asshat?" Dustil couldn't resist. "How can Revan be your last living relative when she's dead and you have a mother? What about Deeka Jin?"

"Moms doesn't count." The Coruscanti's eyes narrowed. "Anyways, we'll tell you guys everything. Right, Telos?"

Dustil had a funny feeling. "Sure," he lied. "Everything. Just… can someone call my dad? Uh, d'you know where he's coming from-the commander said he was coming but how long-"

"Coruscant," Lydie said. "With the new jump-points he should be here within the day."

Dustil wondered if he should mention that the brother she'd been hugging could still be possessed by the Sith Emperor (and Revan Starfire) but decided not. Maybe dear old Mekk could bring it up later over a chummy game of strip pazaak.

"Your father's on Coruscant, Dustil. There's an investigation…." Lydie kept talking. Court martial. Promotion. Award ceremony. Investigation . Taken together, her words didn't make sense.

"But he's coming here. Commander Gren says he's coming here." He had to cling to something. The Force felt broken. His father was gonna be shattered if Revan was gone. Dustil knew what that felt like-he knew-

Mekk was still babbling his banthashit. He always would.

Is Revan really dead? Can't sense her anywhere- He could barely sense his toes, or Mekel over there, holding court like they were the heroes of the galaxy instead of the two rubes who'd let themselves be conned.

"I would imagine Carth Onasi will be here with all haste," Jorde said. His voice was distant, and for a second, he looked a hundred years old. "There is no stronger love than that a parent has for their child."

Mekel snorted. "Oh, I dunno …." He glanced at Dustil from the corner of his eyes. From his look he was probably trying to share some gross mental image.

"Shut up, Mekk," Dustil told him. Sometimes his best friend, bondmate, lover, boyfriend-whatever the hell Mekel was-was so fracking stupid.

XXX

Dear Lee,

I know you get tired of me telling you it was complicated, but it was. Sometimes you don't know what you've got until it's gone-or who you love until you see them with someone else.

It wasn't love that day on Coruscant in the Underground when I took your mother's hand and said I'd get her back home. But love grew between us. You were born out of love, Lee. And no matter what your mother might say, that love was no weakness.

-Lord Jin, Vassal to the House of Mydia Blais, undated letter [transl. From the Ancient Sith. This is presumed to be written by the father of one of Mydia's children. None of them are named 'Lee,' as previously noted, but Amachrist of Ziost posited in 230 RRA that this 'Lee' could refer to Myleah II, of House Blais.]

-compiled by Archivist Lanna T'so, University of Coruscant

Xxx

The blasted planet below them was beautiful. When Mekk and Milli had been fighting for their lives in their snub Mekel hadn't had time to appreciate just how beautiful Telos was. Polar ice caps, delineated terrain so sharp it made them look fake against an expanse of red and pockmarked ground-marked by squares of harsh green where the Restoration Project had begun.

Telos was beautiful, but Telos was pissed. Didn't take a Force bond to feel that. Their last words had been enough.

"-stupid, you're so fracking stupid, Mekk-"

"What are you going to do, now, Mekel?" Lydie said quietly in the now. It was the crack of morning hours here on the orbital: the artificial suns were just lightening in the overheads along the plaza; and she'd come up behind him so quietly that Mekel might have accidentally gutted her-except he hadn't, because somehow, Mekel knew it was her.

He had the Force back. Barely enough to ruffle Dustil's hair. Nothing like Lord Valkorion has promised, but-

"Mekk, you're so stupid, so fracking stupid-"

"No fracking idea." Mekel turned to look at her. Just like the planet, Lydie Korr was beautiful-and almost as round. His eyes kept slipping past her improved cleavage to that magnificent gut. "Telos wants to wait here. His father's coming to get us. Then…" he shrugged. "Maybe I'll go look for my cousin or something."

She gave him a weird glance, which gave Mekel enough time to realize his mistake. "Your dead cousin? Revan Starfire?"

"Yeah, no I meant… General Sheris…." Fracking sithspit! Of course, Lydie wouldn't know, would she? Mekel couldn't remember who knew what anymore. "She's, ah…."

"She is the woman who used to be Sheris Loran," Lydie corrected him. Her hand rested on the curve of her belly. "Sheris Loran has Revan's memories. Azen realized what had happened to her before we left Coruscant. He told me. He's very perceptive." Her forehead wrinkled. "Didn't we have this conversation on Katarr?"

Had they? There'd been more interesting things happening back then. Mekel snorted. "Loanin's not that perceptive. Speaking of Katarr-"

"I'm speaking of now." Lydie Korr's eyes (he could never call her Lydie Loanin) were very blue and very clear. "But I'll never forget."

"Me neither." Was that why Lydie was here? He'd never done it with a pregnant sent. "Thought I'd… was thinking I'd go looking for my cousin. She left us here… maybe she's in trouble."

Maybe if he rescued her and was a hero Telos would get over the whole 'you betrayed me to the Sith Emperor' thing. The conversation they'd had a few hours ago had gone bad-started out with some decent sex-then gone Hutt-shaped.

XXX

Mekel knew Dustil was pissed but he still tried to explain. "Lord Valkorion said he could help."

"You're fracking stupid, Mekk. You're always so fracking stupid-"

"I was helping! We needed to keep him happy, right? To win the war?"

"You were trying to help yourself! You think I can't see? I was in your head in there, I saw everything-"

XXX

Mekel had seen everything, too. That darkness in Telos that would never completely go away. The shame the other man would always feel about banthashit that wasn't his fracking fault. The things that Dustil took for granted-being a hero's son, a powerful Force-user-things that made him a blind naif who would never get how the galaxy worked, even if Mekel had to explain it a hundred times.

Maybe because for Telos, the galaxy worked differently than it did for Mekel. You could live inside of someone's head and never really know them. Funny.

"The woman with Revan's mind left you and Dustil here…." Lydie frowned. "Her son is still missing?"

"Yeah, but he's on Nar Shaddaa. She knows where Malachor is-if she was with the other one." They'd seen the shape of the possessed Weequay on Nar Shaddaa in the other Revan's mind. They'd seen too much in that mind. Pride and pain and those strange patches of nothing. Memories of a planet she'd never known. And Dustil's dads-hope for a future that'd never be-

"You sound certain."

They'd tried not to see. "I told you before on the Hawk, Lyd. Telos and me-we were in the real Revan's head before she died. She was thinking about her son. She'd have told the other one where he was."

"Then I imagine that will be where this 'General Sheris' will go." Lydie's hands moved over her belly and Mekel had a weird urge to ask if he could touch it. "He's kicking," the Zabrak added, smiling up at him like she knew. "Would you like to feel?"

"Yes." Her hands were warm, almost hot, just like Mekel remembered. She put his hand to the right place. The movement surprised him with its fierceness, hard nubs under his fingers, appearing and subsiding, like a granite slug popping back into its burrow. "What is that? It's not a hand-"

"His horns." Her skin was flushed and her lashes fluttered down a little. "He'll have horns, the scans say."

"Well, of course he will. You-" Mekel kept his hand there, and moved closer. "You have them, so-"

"Humans don't. You don't."

"No. I don't." He took her other hand and kissed it, just a touch on the lips. The baby in her belly moved under his fingers. In that moment, Mekel remembered all that banthashit Thalia May had been spouting to him back on Oas-about how he could be happy, or a father-or something. "Lyd," he said. "I-"

"Don't." Her calm refusal startled him. "You and Dustil-you have him back."

"Not so sure about that." He smiled, to make it funny, but the prickle on the back of Mekel's neck told him it was already too late. "We're… kind of on a break."

Hard to come back from some of the things they'd said.

(It would take decades, although he didn't know it then.)

"And I have Azen," Lydie continued, as if she hadn't noticed their audience. Maybe she hadn't. Her blue eyes were focused on his with the intensity of kyber blades. "I love Azen, Mekel. He's so happy he's going to be a father."

"He's lucky," Mekel told her. He gave her belly one more pat and felt those nubs surge up again, like her son was saying goodbye, too.

"We both are," she said quietly. Her cheeks flushed.

Mekel leaned closer to give her another kiss. He was aiming for her lips but she turned and all he got was the side of her cheek.

"What are you doing?" She moved her belly away from his hand. "I just told you-"

"Saying goodbye."

"Oh." Her cheeks flushed an even brighter color, and so did the tip of her horns. Her head tilted up. "Then come here."

Later, when he had time to regret, Mekel would admit that their final kiss hadn't been for Lydie at all. Her mouth met his own, hot and open-tongued, as passionate and warm as he remembered her-as he would always remember her.

"Goodbye," Lydie told him, when they finally broke apart. Her voice was calm and her expression was Jedi-serene. "Goodbye Mekel Jin."

"Lydie Korr." He bowed like they would have done on Korriban, already noticing her widening eyes, as she realized who had been behind them all along.

Their Force bond might have been broken, their Force sense might have been a shadow of what it was, but Mekel knew that Telos was standing there behind them. Knew he'd been standing there since Mekel had given Lydie that first kiss on the hand.

"Good bye, Mekel Jin," Lydie repeated, more fiercely this time. "May the Force guide you on your path."

"Hey, Lyd," Dustil said. He stared right through Mekel like he no longer existed. "How's it going?"

XXX

I grew up as the only null in the Onderon Jedi Enclave. Made me miss a lot of the undercurrents, political stuff. Those I didn't get until later, when I moved to Coruscant and learned about the other Jedi.

But... let's just say… my father and Master Meetra Surik didn't see eye-to-eye.

You don't get that as a kid. You don't get that being stationed on the Rim is an exile. Hell, Dad was married to the Beast-Rider Queen. And to hear Myles tell it we were all practically royalty.

Granddads pulled some strings and got me into Coruscant Fleet Academy when Myles and I were sixteen. That's when I took the name 'Jin.' Onasi was too bloody notorious, and my uncle used to show me around the Coruscanti Underground, teach me things about the galaxy and sents in it I'd never learn in an astro-navigation class. But I probably shouldn't mention Uncle Jin. This is a Republic document, if you get my drift. And he was on the other side.

Oh, you've heard of him? Yeah, well, I'm not gonna talk about him and Dad, either. Life is messy. Sometimes it takes a while to sort out.

What? Who's Myles? Sorry, I mean Master Myleah . Gotta remember that nobody's called my sister Myles in ages-she's way too dignified, now. I mean Master Myleah Onasi, Archivist to the new Tython Enclave.

-Supreme Commander Ganesh Jin, "You Asked, So Here's My Life Story," Fleet Publishers, 3906 BBY

Xxx

"Dad!" Carth's son slouched awkwardly, all limbs and angles in the yellow and black uniform Gren or one of the other TSF had given him. He looked better than he had in months-skin clear, eyes no longer yellow. He even looked older, like the man he might become one day-now that they had the time.

"Dustil." Carth embraced him, ignoring for now the row of Telos Security Force saluting him, the holocams, the cheers. "You're okay?"

"Yeah." Dustil smelled like shaving oil and soap. "You know, Dad, I'm really sorry-"

"I know." He didn't want to talk about it, didn't want to even think. A thousand questions danced on the tip of Carth's tongue, but all of them could wait. "You're gonna have to tell me what happened-but not yet, okay?" He glanced behind them. Mission was just beginning the roll down the ramp, trailed by Yuthura, who had a swaddled kid under each arm. "First there's some people I think you should meet."

Myleah was squalling again. Carth could hear her from here, even over the roar of the crowd.

"The babies? Is Mydia with you?" Dustil danced back, wriggling out of Carth's grip, and craning his neck like he expected the Blais girl to come running.

"Uh, no. Crazy story. We don't know where she is-the kids were dropped off at a Coruscanti brothel. I got this call to come get them yesterday-"

Around them, the guards were filing out, giving them privacy. That had been the deal. One photo opp, then hands-off. Carth hadn't been paying attention enough to notice the cams flashing. Funny, how much rank he could pull now, clearing a hangar with one mumbled command. He hadn't expected them to do so much this fast-

You deserve it, Flyboy. Sometimes he heard her voice in his head. Wishful thinking, not like he was still possessed, but if he had been she'd have been there-

No. Carth knew this road all too well. A well of grief that would suck him dry if he let it. He couldn't afford that. Not when Dustil needed him. Not when he had his job. Not when he had grandkids-

"Nice." His son was still staring past Carth at the others approaching now that the guards were gone. "Hey. Yuthura and-"

"Sithboy!" Mission rolled forward. "You look handsome again, Handsome!"

"Uh. yeah, I-" Dustil paused. "Hi. Wait, did you say 'brothel,' Dad? You found my kids in a brothel?"

"Uh-huh. Mekel's mother's brothel. Mydia ditched them there. We may never know why." And 'Mekel's mother's brothel' was a phrase Carth hoped he'd never have to utter again. "Where is Mister Congeniality, anyway?"

Dustil shrugged. "Around." He stepped forward and went straight to Yuthura, an expression of intense concentration on his face-looking like a feeling that Carth knew. Nothing in the world right now for his kid except his kids.

"Hi," his son said softly, taking one bundle and then the other. He was skinnier than Carth liked to see, but his arms were strong enough to hold them both.

"Give Dustil a sec to get all squishy," Mission chirped at Carth. "His spawn are cute. Felt my circuits turn to gellac, first time I saw those little faces."

"Yeah." Ganesh, always sleeping and Myleah, all eyebrows and scowl. Both of them with shocks of green hair that had to have come from Sinae's gene-splices. Carth felt a little guilty he had barely given their missing mother-or the Mandalorians-a second thought. "How've you been, Mission? Didn't have a chance to ask on the way here. Last I heard, Rensha gave you guys clearance . Thought you were heading to Kashyyyk with Zaalbar."

"Big Z went back to Kashyyyk, but I wanted to come with you." A blue light flashed at him from her dome. "You're good with the ladies, Flyboy. Could be useful."

Carth tried to laugh. "Whatever you're thinking, Mission, I'm off the market. Forever."

Shame to put abs like those off the market, Flyboy. Her teasing voice. When had she said that? When. On the flight to Dantooine. That first night, when they'd almost-

Carth was still steeling himself to see that face again. Her face. On a stranger.

The stranger had dropped the Hawk off on Telos. Left a note with his son and then vanished. Cein and Rew were already talking about how they could use 'General Sheris' to analyze troop movements in the Chiss Ascendency-if she ever showed up again. They wanted her to explain the utter collapse of the Imperial military, too. Carth couldn't take credit for that one-had happened after he quit-but he'd gotten a medal for it all the same.

Carth wished the other brass all the best with 'General Sheris.' Knowing her-he'd gotten to know her, serving under command, those crazy weeks of wartime-he thought she wouldn't be gone forever. She was a lot of things, but she wasn't the type to cut and run.

They'd sent him a copy of the note she'd left on the Hawk. Same handwriting, he'd thought before he deleted the image. Somehow that made it hurt more-like his own Freckles had never existed-had always been just a shadow of the one who was left.

There'd been no word about Polla Organa, either. That was more expected. Jasp Organa had left for Deralia when Zaalbar left for Kashyyyk. Carth figured Polla had gone back home to her husband and son. And Canderous was long gone-no word from Dxun-and Carth-

Carth was an admiral in the Republic Navy. And probably would be for life.

Congratulations, Captain Obvious. When had she said that? Too many times to count.

"Lena would never date a Human." Mission clucked sharply, interrupting his thoughts. "But she liked you okay. And the kid trusts you. That'll help."

"Help with what again?" He was watching his son and the grandkids. Yuthura shot him a pleased glance, but Dustil was too busy holding up tiny Myles. Her neck was still floppy and Carth stepped forward, before noticing his son's broad hand supporting her back, the way he cradled her along his left arm as Yuthura handed him Ganesh to hold in his right. He's got this. Strange feeling of pride about that. One Carth had never expected.

"Help me sweet talk Lena Wee, of course!" Mission's dome swiveled round. "Are you even paying attention?"

Carth felt his brows raise. "What does your brother's old girlfriend have to do with anything?"

"Geez, remember on Kaas when you guys were tearing apart my ship? Lena Wee has Revan's Rakatan mind-trap!" Mission whirred to herself. "The thing we need to destroy the Emperor and that stupid computer? We need to get it so we can destroy that asshole installation for good!"

"Uh, right." Carth had forgotten. Another thing from the wrong woman he wanted to forget. "The... box on Nar Shaddaa. The one the other… the one she wanted." He still didn't have a good name for her. "The one General Sheris wanted."

Mission beeped agreement. "Commed those creepy twins already. They wanted to see Big Z, but he bailed... so thought I would offer them you to get us in…" she swiveled around him in a circle, still talking. "I know they're with Lena. They've got Polla Revan's kid, too. We can say we're there for him, then steal the box!"

"Steal?" Carth frowned.

The twins. Mission kept bringing them up. The thought of two more fake Missions made his skin crawl and his heart ache. The kid he'd known had been one of a kind. And while he'd come to accept a version of her in an astromech, seeing two in the flesh would be… harder.

"We'll ask first if you want." Mission rolled in a circle again as if she was restless. "Thought Sithboy would give me more of a hello."

The twins have Revan's son-Revan's son- "Dustil's distracted. You're sure your twins have Korrie?"

"He answered their comm when I pinged. Guess he thought I'd be Polla Revan since I was using her codes."

"That wasn't-don't do that!"

Mission's speaker chirped. "Relax. It's not like I pretended to be her. Told him I was with you. We should rescue him from those losers." She whirred again while he fumbled for an answer. "Carth, ever since I mentioned the kid your eyes have been leaking."

"Sure, we, uh-" He wiped the eyes absently. His son was holding one of the babies-from the heft, probably Gan. "We can go to Nar, Mission. For Korrie. But this box.…"

She made a noise like a whine. "Don't you want to destroy the Sith Emperor?"

"We already did. I hope." Would using it now destroy her, too? Carth wanted to ask that. He didn't dare ask that. Would it be merciful to destroy her, now?

-mercy-

Something about that word made Carth's head pound and his gut twist into knots. He closed his eyes and tried to hear her voice again. Pretend she was there. She'd talked to ghosts, hell so had his son. The dead were still real and maybe she was beside him right now-

Relax, Flyboy-

It was no good.

"We need to be sure that asshole is gone for good." Mission rolled past him. "Why is Mekel Jin sulking in the corner?"

"No idea." Carth waved at the kid.

Xxx

House D'Reev was one of the Senate Great Houses during the time of the Jedi Civil War. They later ceded their territories and resources to House Racharn, based upon a dynastic marriage between heirs.

The fate of the last D'Reev, Malachor Vrook Cassus Ulic Lin D'Reev (Racharn), has been the subject of many an undergraduate dissertation. In most, the son of Revan and Malak is portrayed as a heroic, yet temperate, Senator-King, who spearheads the restoration of the Outer Rim planets as well as redefining the role of Jedi in the Galactic Republic.

That the man existed is without doubt. His holo portrait hangs in the Senate Halls beneath Senator's Walk. A handsome, if somewhat simple-faced countenance-boyish, for all that it was painted when the man had eclipsed seventy-nine of his eventual one hundred and twenty years. That he was a Racharn consort is also proven: Leeshansintina Racharn and Malachor D'Reev jointly directed the affairs of House Racharn for more than eighty years, ruling the dominant Senate House in an age of unprecedented prosperity for the Republic.

But was Malachor really Revan and Malak's son? Or Malak and Bastila's son? Or a clone of Malachi D'Reev? Or a clone of Malak himself?

As I said, fanciful undergraduates have come up with all sorts of tales based on contemporary accounts, descriptions, even popular songs from the time. But what is most curious-and I think most relevant-is the lack of duracrete information we have about a man who was (in his lifetime) a public figure.

If knowledge of Revan Starfire was merely forgotten, wouldn't she still be known purely for being the mother of Malachor D'Reev? And if she is not… is that an example of a fact deliberately obscured-or just proof that she was not D'Reev's mother?

-Excerpt from "An Historian's Introduction to the Machine Wars: Lecture by Kree Usam Racharn for the Revan: Fact or Fiction Symposium, SHWL," University of Coruscant Press. 3653 BBY

- compiled by Archivist Lanna T'so, University of Coruscant

Xxx

"Mal."

Kore had been standing in line at the concession stand getting a fizz-pop and some frites before Tee's next race when the strange voice spoke up behind him.

"What?" he asked, not turning around, going straight for the hold-out, just like his Twi'lek aunties had taught him.

"Mal, we can't stay but we love you very much."

The voice was funny. High and low at the same time, like two people talking at once, the smuggbut when Kore turned around there was only a chubby Weeuqay dressed in battered armor staring back at him.

A chubby Weequay whose eyes were glowing faintly blue.

"Mal-you've gotten so big!" The last bit was just in one voice, her voice-and that was when Kore knew for sure his real mother was dead, because he hadn't really been sure before. He'd felt both mothers scream in the Force, but after that it had been fuzzy and mixed in with the nightmare he'd been having at the time, that he and Grandfather had accidentally switched bodies and Grandfather was still dead so it hadn't been a very good trade for Kore, stumbling with his skin falling off.

And then everyone had said the war was done, and somehow then Kore knew, even before everyone started talking about 'Revan's sacrifice,' that he was only going to get one mother back. He knew even before the silly Tee-Three commed the twins on their channel and said Carth would come get him-even if his own mother didn't.

But she will come to get me. She will.

He knew that too.

"You guys are together!" He hugged the Weequay, who was actually shorter than he was. "I'm glad!"

"We can't stay, Mal." Father's voice, then Mother's joined it. "We love you."

"You'll have a good life," Mother added, high-pitched in his ear. "Take care of them."

Until Kore was an old man, he would never be sure which 'them' Mother had meant. The Weequay's eyes faded back right after and then Kore had jumped back as the man took off like a spooked ronto. He'd had a lot more to say, but maybe they didn't have time.

He never saw them again. And, since he'd never know for sure who they meant for him to take care of, Malachor always tried to take care of everyone, until the end of his days.

Xxx

Would you trade a lifetime of happiness for ten of sorrow? Most sentients are never faced with such a choice. I, who have seen ten lifetimes and barely lived one, envy them. But I don't envy you, Exile. My dream ends when I wake. Yours is eternal-your legacy, the galactic turning of a thousand planets.

-From the prophecies of Thalia May, volume XXII, 3894 BBY

[Note: "The Exile" is a mysterious figure in Thalia's prophecies-a seemingly immortal, near-omnipotent seer of future events. Some have posited that the Exile is Meetra Surik. Others believe it to be one of her disciples: Atton Rand, Brianna of the Echani, Mical Jorde….

None of these options are entirely satisfactory.]

- compiled by Archivist Lanna T'so, University of Coruscant

XXX

"Coming out of hyperspace in five, four, three.. ."

"I can read a hyperometer."

"Didn't say you couldn't. Don't want you to puke on me."

"It'd be one way to say goodbye…" Revan tried to chuckle, ignoring the nausea that hit her right on schedule, as their stolen ship's hyperdrive slowed in preparation of bringing them back in real-space.

"You sure about this goodbye thing?" Polla looked like she was trying to laugh and doing a pisspoor job of it. "I could stay awhile-say I was your bodyguard."

"Want to spend a month being debriefed by Fleet and the Coruscanti Senate or you want to see Abasen walking?"

"I've seen-he was walking when I left."

"He's better at it now." Revan had seen that much from the eyes of a baker from Chessna. "Plus, you have to get Sydax out of there and back to her family before your parents go to jail for kidnapping."

"What if Sydax is still possessed by the Emperor? We don't know-"

"Then tell Vitiate I said hi."

"And if she's Bossypants, instead?"

That was harder. "Then tell her I said thanks."

It had been four days since they'd dropped the kids and the Hawk off on Telos, riding an escape pod into the Telos orbital's gravity field with a garbage scow, then sneaking out the front door of the scow when it docked. Four days since they'd stolen this cheap cruiser and set waypoints for Hoth. Four days, most of them spent in hyperspace due to the ship's slow hyperlights. You could have the entire map of the galaxy with every instant route mapped on a datapad (and they did)-that didn't make a difference if your ship was a hunk of space poodoo.

Four days had given them a lot of time to play pazaak, watch the vids, and wonder if they'd really saved the galaxy.

Should have stolen a better ship, Revan thought, not for the first time. The Telos Bounty had been in drydock storage long enough to coat its hull with dust, long enough for the coolant lines run dry. Polla had handled most of the fixes-with Revan's help. The Force had come back enough for Revan to move a hydrospanner a good five centimeters in the air, but that was it. About as useful as a Gammorrean ring dancer in a Bith band. And her mechanic's skills were only marginally better than her flying.

"I want to go home!" Polla sounded a little defensive. "Don't get me wrong! Just… Bossypants told me to look after her… I mean I realize now I know she meant, look after you." The smuggler's eyes had faded back to brown-a familiar brown that was all the more disorienting to look at for being familiar. "And Bossypants said we should go to Nar Shaddaa. Your son's there-not just the kriffing box."

"Yeah, well…" Revan tried not to gag as a first wave of nausea hit with the end of hyperspace. "I will go to Nar Shaddaa. But not yet."

Korrie was safe for now. Happy, even. Revan had seen that much from the possessed Bounty-Hunter's perspective.

"Your reason doesn't make sense."

"It doesn't need to make sense. To you." Revan had to establish her identity before she could see Korrie again. Dar had been wrong about so many things-but not, Revan believed, about that.

Xxx

"Get dressed, Fragment."

From the other side of the tomb, Dar watched Revan dress in her discarded clothing. Her saber had ignited, sparking blue between them, half-raised like a threat. Behind her, Malak was an indistinct blue haze, towering above them both.

"Seems unnecessary-" Revan tied the white belt slowly, then reached for Dar's underrobe. "Polla isn't going to care what I'm wearing. And the Emperor will know-"

"I thought you understood."

"Not for the Deralian, Red." Malak added.

"Don't you see?" Dar's voice seemed to alter, become younger, breathier. "From the moment you leave this Temple you'll be me." She pointed at herself. "Me. Sheris Loran. You'll be Sheris Loran."

"You?" Revan scoffed. "You're not Sheris any more than I-" her voice broke off, because the expression of Dar's face was different. Softer, somehow.

"No. You're wrong." The woman's smile was different from Dar's. Hesitant. "You have no idea…." Her laugh was different, too. "Oh, how I hated you, when you were Padawan Organa! More than I ever hated her. I suppose you don't recall-you never knew it was me. But on Manaan-I hunted you-and then on Korriban, Beya and I-"

"Bright one," Malak whispered. "Leave it."

"You hated me because you thought I would take Malak from you." Revan understood. She should have cared more about Sheris's confession, but found she did not. "There were a lot of Sith on Manaan. I'm sorry I don't remember."

"Irrelevant, now." Quickly as she has come, Sheris was replaced by the crisp tone Revan knew all too well. "Become Sheris, Fragment. It will set you free."

"Banthashit! The Fleet and probably half the Senate know better!"

"But would they tell?" Dar shrugged. "You have enough of me in you to understand these things."

"I'd be in hiding." In hiding like an animal when she could walk among the stars.

Xxx

"Still haven't told me why we came to this iceball." Polla fiddled with the coordinate settings for no reason Revan could discern. "You were born here. Sheris was born here. So what?"

"So, Hoth is the perfect place to establish my identity." Malachi D'Reev would have been proud of her plan, Revan thought-if Dar hadn't killed him. In that moment she missed her counterpart with a surprise surge of grief. For a millisecond she almost missed the old man, too.

"You think you can fake being Sheris on her home planet?"

"I'm not going to stay on Hoth." Revan doubted the Fleet would give her the opportunity. "I… I'll work to fix things. As Sheris."

The smuggler gave an incredulous scoff. "What about your son? And Carth?"

"We've been over Carth already, Polla."

The smuggler folded her arms. "We weren't finished."

Xxx

"You won't be in hiding." Dar flipped the saber expertly, managing to make the threat look like a training exercise. "Persons in hiding can be found." A smile played around her mouth. "Sheris Loran is a war hero, Fragment. The Fleet cannot deny her that honor-indeed, they might be relieved to have General Sheris the Hero instead of two Revans to deal with."

"But Rensha knows you're not really Sheris. Most of the brass do. Everyone on the Hunt. Probably an open secret to half of Senate-"

Dar shook her head. "And? Believe it or not, they quite liked me, once upon a time. As for the rest of the galaxy… General Sheris is a war hero. But General Revan…."

"General Revan destroyed half the Republic Fleet at Malachor. And then again at the Star Forge." A spark of anger. "You want me to be Sheris for an eternity when I could walk among the stars-when I could have everything-"

"You're sounding rather a lot like Vitiate," Dar interrupted. One eyebrow raised. "Careful."

"If our positions were reversed I'd already be dead."

"Yes." At least Dar didn't deny it.

"It was a third of the Fleet at Malachor," Malak added. "Not half."

"Shut up-"

"You're not helping, Mal-"

They spoke at once. It was so absurd that Revan laughed. Then somewhere, she felt the Emperor's eyes turn-

What is it that amuses you so? I promised not to peek, but you're taking so long-

"We need to get on with it," Revan told them both. "We're running out of time."

You plan to go along with her scheme? That cold voice in her head sounded startled. You trust her to stop Vitiate?

More than I trust you, Voice.

Xxx

"-and what about Korrie?" Polla interrupted her own diatribe about how Carth wasn't going to let Revan go to ask about her son. The smuggler wasn't going to let this go any more than Revan had that day in the tomb.

"They can't keep me from him. Just… I have to wait." A part of Revan felt like the fake General Sheris (the true Revan) already, sealing off the parts of her that objected.

Korrie. Carth. I can't think of them today. Maybe tomorrow, at least my son….

"Banthashit." Polla dragged the yoke down and Revan's gut dropped with it. "We could run, instead. Hide. I could go to Nar in your place. Get your kid… and… all of us could run. There's places out on the Defalli Rim-"

"-where no one could find us. I know, Polla. But I can't." It wasn't the first time Polla had made the offer. "You've seen the reports. There's a galaxy of planets out there that were bombed because of me."

Four days spent watching the news from across the galaxy. Craters on Kashyyyk. A burning sea on Lehon. The new scars on Telos. A blasted beach on Ziost. Ord Mantell a toxic wound. The Sith Empire was in shambles and the Republic scarcely better off.

Dar warned me not to come to Kaas. If my own pride hadn't convinced me that I could save the galaxy, hundreds of thousands might still be alive.

"You think you can save the galaxy?" Sometimes Polla's voice sounded too much like Revan's own thoughts. "That's what got you into trouble in the first place! And now you barely have the Force!"

"I have to do what I can." Today Revan had managed to move a hydrospanner. Yesterday, a sock. Maybe the Force was coming back. "Even if all that is is showing up and giving fracking speeches."

"You're gonna need to work on those speeches." Polla shot her sideways glance. "A lot."

Xxx

The Emperor was coming. Revan could feel him tugging at the back of her mind.

They needed to hurry and Dar was still detailing every possible result of their action. "-I may only buy you a brief reprieve before my weak body fails-but if it is long enough for you to imprison Tenebrae in my obelisk-"

"Even if your box works it won't help you. Once you go into that tomb, you'll die."

"Yes. But I shall last as long as I can. Fight him with all that I am. You…" Dar looked up at Malak again, a half-smile on her face. "Malak will watch over you and Malachor. Retrieve my box on Nar-"

"And our son?"

"Of course, our son! And the obelisk."

"Maybe your mind prison will trap every sent he's ever possessed in there with him," Revan snapped. The Grass Priests had a story like that-about following false prophets into hell. "Your solution could kill billions."

Dar shrugged. "Frankly, I expected a more impassioned argument from you against killing me."

Xxx

"Revan? Are you even listening to a word I've said?" Polla's brown eyes were abruptly centimeters from her own, fingers snapping in her ear.

"Of course! Just…" Revan looked to the viewscreen to avoid the smuggler's gaze. "Just thinking. I was running search strings on all three of us. You know there's a pack of life insurance investigators still after you?"

"Course I know." Polla bared her teeth in a smile. "And my good friend General Sheris is gonna pull some strings about that-right?"

Revan laughed. "Of course. Soon as I-"

"Telos Bounty! This is Hoth airspace. Ch'tera is still closed to civilian traffic. Correct your course to the orbital station, immediately-"

"Sorry, Hoth Command, but I can't." Revan didn't have to fake the nervous waver in her voice.

Polla rolled her eyes. "Oh, here we go."

"Telos Bounty ! Who is this?"

"This is General Sheris Loran." Revan put on the right accent-Revan's accent. Sheris's accent. Nothing of Hoth in it at all. It felt fake. She felt sweat break out on her temples, her heart beat a little faster. "Give us clearance to land, please. I have business upon your world."

"Uh-" the stunned silence told her everything she needed to know. "One… second. This… this isn't a joke?"

"I would not joke about something this serious." Would not joke… her mind scrambled for words. "This is no jape. I am General Sheris Loran and I want..." she felt her voice crack and it wasn't a jape at all. The tears in her eyes were real, and the ice world beneath them could have been anywhere.

"... I want to come home."

Xxx

Perhaps the original Revan, the self-sacrificing hero, would have come up with a reason to save Dar. Or a plan to save them both in that final hour.

But Revan just shrugged.

The other woman's mouth tightened. She weighed the saber in her flesh hand. "Are you ready?"

"I'll open the tomb first." Already the Emperor was pressing against her mental barricades. Revan could feel his impatience, eagerness, even matched with her own desire to reach out see-

-see all those little lives-

Are we really going to let her take what is mine? "Wait," she whispered. "I just want to see-one more time-"

"Leave it, Fragment."

Malak's low rumble. "You must, Red."

"I just want to see." Revan's eyes closed and she put both of her hands on the dome. Her arm that the Preserver had scratched throbbed as if it could sense the eager machine beneath, just wanting to do its duty, waiting to make her see-

-to see everything-

"Give me a minute, I just want to see-"

And then she was-

XXX

"You have clearance to land, uh. General. Governor's on his way. W-we need to tell the Republic Fleet-everyone's been looking for you and General Starfire!"

"General Revan is dead," Revan said into the mic. "She sacrificed herself to save you all. I… I just want to come home."

"Frack me," Polla whispered, and reached for the helm they'd agreed she'd wear.

XXX

One heartbeat between the hiss of the blade and the crack of the tomb opening.

One long, agonizing heartbeat as hot fire burned through her arm's muscle and bone. Revan stumbled backward as her body raised a defense beyond rational thought, scrabbling forward again to get to the place inside, the place where she truly belonged-

What's this? Her walls had fallen and Vitiate poked through.

Now, the cold voice whispered . The imposter thinks she's won, so now strike her down now and take your rightful place-

[Welcome!] the tomb sang.

Revan scrabbled to her feet-mind frozen-just desperate to go-to get inside-

"No!" Malak's voice. A wave of Force pushed Revan off the plinth, sent her tumbling back-even as she looked up and saw her other self, pale legs lifting, chest rising and falling as if the woman had run up a mountain.

Dar perched on the edge of their tomb. She'd taken off her metal arm and the stump was smooth and white.

Revan's eyes were drawn to that stump, of all things. She heard herself keen, rocking back, reaching for the place her own arm had been, and remembered the duel on Manaan, the red-haired stranger with her own face, that sound that Sheris had made-how Revan had thought her a weakling-a weakling for making this same sound, this same unearthly whimpering cry-

Dar blinked. Then she closed her eyes and slipped over the edge of the tomb like she was slipping into water. The glow brightened, pulsed, and the crystalline dome closed. The light inside diffused, fading to a soft glow.

The floor rumbled.

Revan heard her own breath in the sudden silence, heard herself whimper again in pain.

"Red." Malak's sepulchral voice was a scream in the quiet. "Revan, she wants you to be happ-"

Her forgotten husband's presence cut out like someone had turned off a switch.

The tomb hummed, flickering like a candle. The ground shook again. Lights came on, illuminating a pattern that looked like circuitry on the floor. Then the lights flickered and dimmed.

Revan clambered painfully to her feet, off-canter now with only one arm. "Malak?" Revan said to the darkness. The Force felt dim, truncated, like swimming underwater, like an ice floe melting under her feet. "Malak?"

No response. She could not sense him-or Dar. Her senses felt as amputated as her left hand. She stumbled up the dias, trying not to touch anything with-with the stump, or her remaining hand.

XXX

"General Sheris… uh you know everyone's been looking for you…?" the new voice was male. Young. Nervous.

"I want my mother," the voice of General Sheris Loran said. A slight catch to the words, like she was holding back tears that Revan had already shed. "Please. Is she… is she still living?"

"Now I get why you didn't tell me the plan," Polla hissed, banking their ship into the landing path the Hoth base had sent.

"I saw-" Revan began, and realized she'd left the mic on. She tapped it to mute hastily before continuing. "I saw Aeryn Loran on the vids pleading for her daughter's return. She longs for a daughter and I-"

"You have a Ma," Polla snapped. "Soon as we can get a clear channel to Deralia she'd tell you herself."

"None of us can afford that risk." Revan turned the mic back on to shut the other woman up.

XXX

The closed tomb clucked softly to itself.

Dar's lightsaber lay on the stones-deactivated-next to her golden arm. Revan's clumsy fingers picked up the arm while her mind reached for the saber, imagining it held in her grasp.

The hilt stirred sluggishly, then slammed into her newly-cauterized stump.

"Ow!" Revan heard herself whimper again and brought the artificial arm forward with her good hand, staring at the connecting pins, the charred stub of flesh where her left arm had been. Just plug it in, she thought, a little hysterically. Plug it in and go.

She set the pins to the stump.

The prosthesis hissed as the arm's sensors sunk in. Another choked howl tore from Revan's throat. And in the silence of the tomb it took Revan a little time to realize what was missing-so completely absent were the things she had begun to take for granted.

The weight of Vitiate in her mind was gone. The call from the Rakatan computer was gone, too. The Force felt small, like it barely extended beyond her fingertips. Her-her one hand that was still-her good hand-

"Ow," she repeated, trying to remember the breathing exercises that Juhani had insisted would hold back pain-long ago-when Revan had been merely Padawan Organa.

XXX

"General Sheris, what you did for our planet… saving us..." A new voice on the comm-link. "This is Polar Governor Ckade. You've caught us a bit off-guard. But… we... we'd love to give you a medal. And I personally want to shake your hand."

"A medal?" Revan echoed. For a second, she thought she heard someone laugh. "I-I just want to see my mother."

Polla let out a heavy sigh. "Guess it's done now."

Haven't had the medal dream in ages, the cold voice whispered in Revan's head as they banked toward the landing coordinates.

XXx

An/ Part one of two….

As always, Thanks Etherfanfict for betaing this monster. Hope you like Part 2!

Thanks, all, for taking this journey with me and all of that corny stuff. I hope this finds you all well and safe. Part 2 is coming. I laughed and I cried and it was better than Cats. Hopefully.