Revenant Ch. 1

This story began with an idea way back in 2006 after I had finished playing Knights of the Old Republic II for the second (or third or fourth) time. It rattled around in my brain for a while for I began putting words to virtual paper in 2007. My ideas spiraled out of control quickly, and what was a single story became a trilogy, but it's Star Wars so hey – I guess This Is The Way?

This story resides firmly in what is now Legends. I was a child of the old expanded universe; while I have passion both for and against the new universe and trilogy, I grew up reading the Legends books, starting with Timothy Zahn's Heir to the Empire trilogy, and that remains my home (although I recently fell down the Reylo rabbit hole and uh-oh, don't send help).

Familiarity with the Knights of the Old Republic 1 and 2 video games, as well as the Knights of the Old Republic comics, is a definite pre-req for this story. Reading the Wookieepedia articles on the primary characters would be sufficient. Better yet, Google them and read an article NOT from Wookieepedia – that site is the greatest, but brevity is nowhere to be found.

One need not know anything about the Old Republic MMORPG for this, nor Drew Karpyshyn's novel "Revan," though I do borrow ideas from both.

One IMPORTANT NOTE: "Aeryn" = "Meetra Surik" aka "The Exile." Like I said, this story has been in the works for a looong time (which should not in any way be construed to mean it's good because it's not – this is not like any form of whiskey that gets better with age, although large amounts of whiskey have been consumed in the creating of it). I had almost finished writing the first part of the trilogy before it was revealed that the Exile's name was Meetra. I decided to stick with mine, mainly out of stubbornness.

This is the first time I've ever posted any fan fiction anywhere. If anyone would like to Beta this work for me, I'd be grateful! Much like McCoy, I'm a doctor engineer, not an author, dammit!

Thanks. Hope you enjoy.

The snow was relentless, layering the already icy landscape with new minuscule flakes, yet it was not the snow that was the true grim reaper of this world's weather – it was the wind. No feature stood against this force of nature; even the frozen dunes that it piled together it soon destroyed. Rock alone survived the elements for a time, alternatively covered by snow and exposed by wind, and it was near an outcropping of rock that the pilot of the Ebon Hawk was desperately trying to land. Visibility from the cockpit was near zero, the situation only worsened by the vessel's repulsors and engines. The pilot reached deeply into the Force to discern the uneven terrain beneath her ship, the ice shelf to the aft that was in danger of melting from the Hawk's powerful engines, and the tumultuous ebb and flow of the storm. Almost anticipating the slight and momentary abatement of wind, the freighter landed successfully and stably, if not gently.

"Exclamation: Master, if you wish me to continue functioning to serve you, you may wish to improve your piloting skills!"

Aeryn ignored HK-47's voice ringing through the comm, having already heard his metal frame slam across the boarding ramp corridor. She rushed from the cockpit to catch up with the ornery droid who, despite his complaints, was already down the boarding ramp and pressing through the snow to the outcropping. Rushing past T3-M4 in the main hold and uttering a quick assurance to his concerned warble, she wrapped her cloak tightly around herself and ran down the ramp. Entering the numbing cold and freezing wind, she was knocked onto her side almost immediately. She regained her footing and for a moment envied HK's much heavier body. And where the hell had he gone? There was no time to lose and now she envied HK's internal navigation system as well. Stretching out her senses, she found a lifeform to her right and about a hundred meters away. That must be where the rock outcropping was. Focusing on the lifeform, her worst fears were confirmed; if she didn't act fast enough, she might be too late. She could feel the withering of the life signature.

Revan was dying.

Aeryn used the Force to augment her speed through the drifts of snow and soon caught up to HK, who was busy examining a wall of ice covering the entrance to a cave in the rocky structure. She focused again on the man within the cave, then turned to HK.

"Blast it down; he's a safe distance inside."

"Statement: A wide-dispersion mine should work well. Warning: stand back."

Several seconds later the wall of ice disintegrated in a combination of flying frozen chunks and drops of water. Aeryn sprinted through the opening and about twenty meters into the cave before finding a figure huddled behind a stalagmite, curled into the fetal position. His body could barely even shiver, and the blood on his open wounds had frozen over; at least it minimized blood loss. HK approached Aeryn's back.

"Statement: Master, I will carry the Master to the ship."

"No, HK," she replied. "I will carry him." Using the Force to assist herself – Revan was much bigger than her – she gently lifted him into her arms. With as much speed as she could, Aeryn Venachi, former general, former Jedi, former exile, carried her brother to safety.

Bastila Shan snapped awake. She felt a soft breeze across her face and turned her head to see one of the windows in her room had swung open. Through it, she could just make out the gently rolling plains of Naboo's southern continent, green and subtly illuminated by moonlight and starlight. Thinking the window must have caused her to wake, she made to get up and close it but stopped. She realized she was warm, uncomfortably so. The additional heavy blankets she had layered on her bed were now oppressive. For days she had felt unusually cold, no matter how many extra layers she'd worn or how hot her caffa had been.

Relieved that her body had finally decided to return to a normal temperature, she padded across the room to gently shut the window but instead found herself leaning on the sill gazing out at the crescent moons. One was slightly fuller than the other, being in different orbits. She thought the fuller one was called Dynea, and the other Aldara, but maybe it was the other way around. Regardless, they were both beautiful, peaceful names, just like Naboo itself. This planet was, she decided, an excellent place for the Jedi Academy. And after all the Jedi Order had endured in the last two decades, beginning with the schism of the Mandalorian Wars and ending with the silent persecution of an unseen Sith, this peaceful – and unknown – planet was exactly where they needed to be to rebuild.

And rebuilding they were. In the five years since the Jedi Exile, Aeryn Venachi, had effectively ended the Sith threat, they had brought many members of the Order out of hiding, built this new academy, and recruited many new Jedi into their ranks. The Jedi Order was well into its recovery and… and they were still very weak.

Bastila sighed as her optimistic train of thoughts derailed, dissipating into the night air as if they had never existed. The Order was still very weak. They numbered in only the few hundreds, including all the recent and as yet untested recruits, from the young adults to the children. To help boost their ranks they had loosened the standards for the age at which Jedi were recruited, and to fully focus on the rebuilding of the Order the Jedi had all but withdrawn from the galaxy – a decision Bastila still was not fond of. Though masters still journeyed into the wider galaxy to further the training of their apprentices, there were no Jedi free to simply roam, dealing with crises and conflicts as they arose. Their numbers were just too few.

So few, in fact, that Bastila was now a Master and a member of the High Council – its leading member. She felt her brow furrow just thinking about the circumstance. Somehow she had become the poster child for the Jedi Order – a redeemed Jedi, devoted to the Republic, and with a pretty face (as Jolee liked to tease her). To the wider Republic her fall to the dark side had been drastically downplayed – omitted, even, while her status as a hero of the Jedi Civil War had been emphasized to the point of ridiculousness, she felt. But the Jedi Council had perhaps wisely chosen to capitalize on her fame and good public standing as a member of the new generation of Jedi, the generation that hadn't chosen to stand aside while the Republic was nearly destroyed by the Mandalorians. As a result, when the Jedi infrequently revealed themselves in the corridors of political power it was her face that greeted the senators and admirals. And it was her face that had helped secure a steady and discrete stream of credits and supplies so that the Jedi Order could heal and expand in peace and safety.

And it was somewhere along the way that fantasy had become reality, and instead of being only the titular head of the Jedi Order, she had unwittingly become something more. Somebody people listened to. Younglings and Knights alike frequently stopped her to ask her opinion on some issue or other. Even the other members of the Council seemed to give her input undue credence – Visas, Mical, Torden, Teth, Jolee. Even Master Vandar – who of all people should have been leading the Order – weighted her words heavily!

Bastila snorted in frustration. Visas, the mysterious Miraluka that had become her best friend in the last five years, was fond of reminding her that she was simply the best person for the job – that she was a natural leader. And every time her best friend said such things, Bastila rolled her eyes. She had stopped being surprised that Visas could see her do it a long time ago.

If only Master Vandar would step up, as he had in the past. Yet, she had to acknowledge he was a remarkable teacher and his time was certainly better spent with younglings and Padawans than worrying about the recent drop in their recruitment rates or the difficulty of finding lightsaber crystals. Wrapping her arms around herself, Bastila left the window and returned to her bed. She pulled off a few of the now unnecessary blankets before climbing in.

She lay still on her back for some time, staring at the ceiling and trying to keep her mind from going where it wanted to go: back to the last time she had been free of the burden of leadership, the last time she hadn't needed to be always strong. The last time she had felt like someone was looking out for her and she didn't have to do anything but enjoy feeling safe and protected. Eleven years ago.

Before Revan had left her.

Dammit. Her traitorous mind had succeeded in pulling the name, the face, out of forgotten memory. She rolled over on her side to look again out the window. He too had said she was a natural leader. She had protested and he had replied, "Maybe not a military leader like me, but a more important kind: a leader of peace. You're a leader who inspires people to find the best in themselves, to be selfless and kind. When leaders like me are done, leaders like you are needed to pick up the pieces and put them back together."

Sometimes she thought Revan must be dead, other times that he must not love her anymore. Not enough to return, anyway. Not enough to have brought her with. She knew, however, that he still lived; their accursed Force bond would surely have conveyed something if he had died. She knew as well, on some level, that perhaps those other things were not true either. But lying here alone in the dark, with the care of a badly wounded Order in her far-too-small hands and a dull but insignificant ache in her heart, she knew it didn't matter one way or another. Though forever bound to Revan and her comrades by friendship, all bonds were severable.

She was a Jedi, and all things were in service to the Force.

Her bond to Revan had served the will of the Force in its time. It had allowed them to find the Star Forge, redeem each other from darkness and undo the power of Malak and the Sith. Now the bond was no longer necessary, and had not been for eleven years; that they had fallen in love was their own folly, not the Force bringing them together.

Bastila sighed and finally closed her eyes, relieved to have sorted through the mess of her past and reminded herself of her certain path in life. Tomorrow morning would come and she would still be Bastila Shan, Jedi Master. She would still have to dole out training assignments, instruct a dueling class, contact the Chancellor to thank him for the Republic's latest donation, and speak with her contact in the fleet. Jolee would still lovingly harass her at every opportunity, and Visas would still be cryptic at every opportunity. Life would continue in its ebb and flow.

It was the way of the Force.

p4