Revan's eyes snapped open. His vision swam as if he had not used it for some time. Disoriented, he made to sit up and determine his surroundings but stopped halfway with his body propped up on his elbows. He was warm. Pleasantly, wonderfully warm. When was the last time he'd been warm? It was certainly before he'd ever set eyes on that Force-forsaken ball of ice, before his ship had been blown from the sky and he'd fled into that cave to evade pursuit. Sitting up the rest of the way, he painfully forced his eyes to focus and looked around, taking in his surroundings, and was smacked with recognition.

"You've got to be kidding me." His astonishment was moderated by his own hoarse voice grating on his ears. Just how long had it been since he'd used it?

"That's some thank you," a not-quite-familiar voice spoke from his left. Revan's head jerked towards the source of the sound, half expecting to see Jolee Bindo standing in the doorway of the Ebon Hawk's medical bay; the crotchety old Jedi had spent many hours patching him up on this exact bed. He knew, though, that the voice was wrong. It was feminine, though the wryness might have matched. It was long forgotten, yet instantly remembered. And though it had been many years since he had heard the old man's sarcastic voice, it had been even longer since he had heard hers.

"I can't believe it's you," was all he could say at first. His sister, Aeryn, leaned against the door frame, arms crossed casually in front of her; he remembered her image well – she had the same deep, dark brown locks as he, and the startling blue eyes of their father. His eyes fixated on the features that he knew to be of his own blood, and his only living family. After a long moment, he remembered her first words. "And I can't believe I'm alive," he offered as an addle-brained gratitude.

At this Aeryn's casual composure vanished and she rushed to his bedside and enveloped him in a strong, warm hug. "Brother, I've missed you so much..." her voice choked off. Revan felt tears sting his eyes. To be held lovingly by another being after all these years… and that it was his sister! Almost no reunion could have eclipsed the joy he felt at this one.

After a few minutes, Revan gripped Aeryn's arms and held her away from him so that he could study her face. It was almost unchanged from when he'd last seen her – a bit more wearied, but still beautiful… and still sad. Peering intently into his sister's eyes, he perceived her sadness was much like his own – a sorrow of separation. He resolved to ask her about that later. First, though, he knew what he had to say.

"Aeryn… I am so sorry."

"For what?" she asked, clearly confused and taken aback by the awkwardly abrupt apology.

"For Malachor. I… I heard what happened to you there." He watched her eyes shift uncomfortably as the memories of that horrible moment returned. "I've thought about that day for a long time now. I wish I hadn't been in such a rush to end things, that I'd found another way."

Now Aeryn gripped his arms firmly, looking him square in the eye. "Brother, there was no other way. I know that. I knew it then, and so did you. You sacrificed as much as I did. I heard about your fall, you and Alek. Malachor must have pushed you along that path, and you must have known that it would."

Revan sighed as his conscience was darkened by memories that could never be too distant, and never would be. "It wasn't so much of a fall as it was a… choice," he began. Aeryn's eyebrows raised, clearly not judging but clearly deeply curious. Wishing to avoid the topic, for now, he instead focused on the feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Damn, I'm hungry. There's got to be something to eat on board. I'll take anything."

Aeryn smirked. "You're going to regret that statement. Come on, the galley's still in the same place it's always been." With some effort, Revan got off the bed and walked unsteadily towards the door. Aeryn watched intently, ready to catch him should he fall. He felt her concerned gaze on him and it strengthened him; it had been far too long since he had been in the presence of someone he trusted and cared for, and who cared for him. He made it three steps out of the med bay and towards the main hold before he was accosted by a large red object and its smaller silver counterpart.

"Exclamation: Master, my circuits buzz with delight in seeing you again!"

Revan turned to see his faithful droids, companions he had missed sorely in the five years he had sojourned without them. "HK! T3!" The little utility droid circled his legs, warbling excitedly. He knelt slightly to place a hand on T3's flat head, then stood upright and placed a hand on HK's arm. "It's good to see you two again."

"Statement: Master, it is good to see you again as well. My photoreceptors inform me that it appears the meatbag Aeryn has done a sufficient job of healing you." Revan smiled and the muscles in his face protested at the long unfamiliar movement. He had missed 'meatbag.'

Aeryn objected. "I know I said you didn't have to call me master, but I didn't authorize meatbag."

HK turned to face Aeryn. "Explanation: You have been an adequate master these past five years, my former master. However, now that I have returned to the company of my original Master and you can no longer be my Master, you will remain a meatbag for whom I have much respect." Revan burst out laughing at the droid's words and the look on Aeryn's face. HK continued unfazed: "I do not make such a statement lightly. I have admired the effectiveness of your violence – though it has been regretfully rare – and your ability to cause large-scale destruction, though it was usually unintended. Nevertheless, a droid cannot have two Masters and Master Revan is, after all, my creator."

Revan intervened here, noting the look of unease on Aeryn's face as HK extolled her destructive capabilities. "HK, T3, I'm proud of you two. Thank you for finding my sister and rescuing me." HK stood straighter at this, and T3 beeped happily.

"Statement: We were proud to assist you, Master."

"And you will continue to assist me. I will need your help very soon. And HK, you're basically a family droid at this point. Aeryn is also your master, and if we give you conflicting orders you can follow whichever one you like best."

HK emitted an electronic groan and Aeryn smirked. "Disagreement: Master, a droid cannot have two-"

Revan cut him off. "Just get used to it HK."

"Resignation: As you wish, Master. Inquiry: Does this dubious distinction also apply to my diminutive counterpart?"

"T3 doesn't need to have these sorts of things explained to him, HK." Revan turned and continued slowly towards the galley, a wry grin on his face. It was good to be coming home.

"Statement: That does not answer my question, Master." Aeryn brushed past the red droid, bumping roughly into him as she went.

"Oh, excuse me, HK."

"Statement: Of course… master."

T3 made a raspberry sound.

"Correction: You are the disrespectful one, you little scrap heap!"

Half an hour later, Aeryn sat across the table from her brother, watching in astonishment as he downed his fifth bowl of protein and nutrient mash. Despite being colorless, odorless, and flavorless it was somehow still completely disgusting. At least color was returning to his face, which was reassuring but weird; eating the stuff always made the color leave her face.

As Revan ate, Aeryn talked. She began with the day she was cast out from the Jedi Order for following him to war. She described her exilic wanderings in vague detail, not because she wished to be unspecific but because it was a period of her life that had left no distinct memories upon her consciousness. She had drifted from system to system at random, sometimes not even knowing the planet she was on. Her interactions with other sentient beings had been minimal and she had never stayed in one location for long. She had lived a vagrant's life for nearly six years until the morning a Republic agent had spotted her on the streets of a Nuiri sector border world and dragged her reluctantly aboard the cruiser Harbinger on the orders of Admiral Onasi.

"Carth was looking for you?" Revan interrupted.

Aeryn noted the interested, almost excited look on her brother's face. "You and he were close?"

"We were together from the very beginning, on Taris. I guess he was the first friend I made in my new life, after the Jedi wiped my mind." Revan leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, looking wistful. "We were partners."

A sudden memory flashed into Aeryn's thoughts. "I have a message for you, from the Admiral – from Carth, I mean. It's five years old, but he wanted me to tell you that he was following his orders." A bittersweet grin covered Revan's face. "But no, the Admiral wasn't really looking for me. He was just doing a favor for Atris." Her brother's grin vanished at the mention of this name.

"Huh," he said dourly.

"Yeah. She wasn't even trying to bring me back into the Jedi fold or anything. I was just bait – as soon as the Republic found me she leaked my whereabouts to bring the Sith out of hiding. We hadn't made it halfway to Telos when the Sith staged a trap using the Hawk and took over the Harbinger. I fled on the Hawk with T3 and Trigger Happy – though I didn't even know he was aboard at the time – and an old woman."

"An old woman?" Revan echoed, obviously intrigued. He pushed his empty bowls aside and leaned forward on the table to listen. He was not disappointed, as Aeryn launched into an explanation of the destruction of Peragus, fleeing from Darth Sion and Kreia's twisted interest in her unique connection to the Force. Revan, in turn, revealed what he knew of Kreia from his years as her pupil, and how it was his actions that had reflected on her so poorly as to precipitate her removal from the Jedi Order.

Many more hours passed as Aeryn's storytelling continued. During this time Revan found room for a few more bowls of protein mash (much to Aeryn's disgust), the droids interrupted their conversation repeatedly, and they moved to the comfortable flight seats in the cockpit to watch the orbital sunset across the limb of the icy planet. She told Revan of journeying across Telos, Nar Shaddaa, Dantooine, Onderon, and Korriban, of destroying Malachor V once and for all, and of defeating Sion, Nihilus and Traya. She related the deaths of too many Jedi at the hand of Sith assassins, the massacre at Katarr, and the loss of Vrook, Kavar, and Zez-Kai Ell. She spoke with pride of the friends she had made along the way and shared her hope that they had made progress in rebuilding the Jedi Order while she was beyond known space. She was shocked when Revan revealed to her that Mandalore was none other than his former companion Canderous Ordo, and she was embarrassed when he slyly pointed out that she spoke of Atton far more than any of the others.

At the end of it all her voice was tired and the rest of her body seemed to sympathize. She yawned and Revan nodded in agreement. "I'm ready to sleep in a decent bed – well, bunk – for the first time in years."

Aeryn quirked an eyebrow. "You're telling me that lovely scrapheap you were in skimped on the amenities?" she asked dryly.

"Can you believe it? And no steward droid." Revan stood from his seat and gazed for a moment at the frozen sphere outside the cockpit. "I won't miss that hell-hole. Or not having a refresher."

Aeryn's eyes bugged. "You didn't have a – " Revan grinned and she caught herself. "I hate you."

Her brother tousled her hair affectionately. "I missed you too, little sister."

"I was bigger than you until you hit puberty!" she retorted as Revan walked out of the cockpit. "And in the morning you can tell me why I've heard all sorts of interesting speculation about you and a certain 'Jedi princess' that you used to hate."

"And good night," came Revan's response as he walked out of view. Aeryn smiled. A few moments later T3 trundled in and let out a distinctly happy warble.

"Start plotting a route back to Republic space, okay? And yes, I'm happy to have him back too."

Revan woke slowly, allowing his body the time to naturally shake off drowsiness. He was in a truly safe location for the first time in years – he could afford to move a little slow this morning. Feeling that his arms were awake enough to be useful, he reached for the chrono at his bedside. He blinked his eyes several times before he trusted his vision enough to believe he'd slept for nearly 20 standard hours.

Well, it definitely wasn't morning.

Revan sat up in the bunk and slung his legs over the edge to stretch. Looking around the starboard dormitory, he suddenly realized exactly which bunk he'd climbed into last night. Quickly he grabbed the pillow he had slept on and held it to his nose, searching for a smell… but of course, it contained no scent other than the mustiness of a ship that had been far too long between stays in port.

Feeling foolish, and glad no one had seen his actions, he returned the pillow to its proper spot at the head of the bunk. Why had he expected a trace of her smell to be left after all these years? He had not forgotten the creamy scents of vanilla and cinnamon that seemed to swirl through the air every time she passed near him. Who would even expect a Jedi to have some sort of fragrant whatever-the-hell-it-was, let alone that it would mix with her natural scent to completely intoxicate him? And he knew it wasn't something she had done simply to impress him because he had smelled it on her from the very early days of his travels with Bastila, when she had still almost hated him.

After the destruction of the Star Forge, he and Bastila had spent several months racing around the galaxy with Jedi and Republic forces. They were able to capitalize on disarray amongst Malak's Sith empire, recapturing lost systems and crushing the Sith threat utterly. They could have slept aboard whichever Republic ships they were attached to at the time, but the rare hours that they found sleep were always found here in this bunk. They slept crushed together in a space meant for only one, in the room where they had first kissed, on the ship where it had all began.

Their friends had taken to calling the starboard dormitory their love nest and generally gave it wide berth; neither Canderous nor Carth believed Revan's assertions that he and Bastila had never been intimate there (nor anywhere else). And so it had become something of a personal retreat for the two almost-lovers, a place where they could be themselves. It was here that they held each other and cried over the sins of their pasts. It was here that they realized only they truly understood what each had been through. It was here that Revan shared his returning memories with only Bastila, and it was here that he told her he had to leave, without her. Over ten years ago.

Lethargy had left his body while the bittersweet memories started creeping over him. He rose and donned the clean robes Aeryn had left for him. As the simple fabric relaxed against his body, Revan felt a small rush of pleasant nostalgia. It had been at least eight years since he had worn the simple garments of a Jedi.

It didn't feel right to wear them, however. Whatever he was now, a member of the Jedi Order he would never be again.

Securing his belt, he clipped his lightsaber to it and paused. His right hand traced slowly over the mangled hilt, which had effectively been nothing more than a memento since shortly before crashing on the ice planet. A memory flashed before his eyes, coupled with the slight tug of both the Force and his own emotions. He remembered the day he had turned another significant memento of his life over to an alien friend, one he trusted would keep it safe for him until the day was right to reclaim it.

Revan made his way to the cockpit, mercifully avoiding the notice of HK, who had been practically fawning over him since his return to the land of the living. The homicidal red droid made a lot of people uncomfortable for a lot of reasons, but worshipful stalking was by far the weirdest. In the cockpit, he found Aeryn and T3 busily discussing their route back to Republic space. Well, that would have to wait.

"T3, start plotting a course to Lehon and from there a course to the Onderon system." Revan looked to Aeryn, receiving the expected quizzical stare.

"Isn't that where the - ?"

"Yep," Revan replied.

"So, it's gone, right? What could you possibly need there?"

"I need to rebuild my lightsaber," Revan said, showing Aeryn his half-crumpled weapon. "I want to incorporate a… reminder of where I've been and what I've done."

"You don't mean your old - ?"

"Yep." Revan's stomach growled. "So, what's for breakfast?"

Aeryn snorted. "You mean dinner. And cold protein mash. The heating element is broken. I couldn't fix it." She paused. "Well, I didn't really try. I just assumed I couldn't fix it, and T3 was busy figuring out our hyper-route, which now he'll be doing again."

"So make HK fix it. He's fairly mechanically competent." Revan looked around. "Where is he, anyway?"

"I'm making him do a full self-diagnostic in the maintenance bay." Aeryn paused and seemed to collect herself before explaining. "I caught him watching you sleep."

"What?"

"Well, he said he was just protecting you while you were in your 'vulnerable meatbag regeneration cycle,' but usually 'protecting' means putting your back to the person and facing the door, not the other way around. Which is what he was doing."

Revan was silent for a moment. "I… I don't even know how to process this."

Aeryn's serious composure started to crack. She clearly found this incredibly amusing. "He really missed you, brother."

"Will you please go ask him to fix the protein heater?" Revan growled.

"But the request will mean so much more coming from you," she replied with an impish smile. Revan just stared at her, so she got up and headed out of the cockpit. "Alright, but over 'breakfast' you need to tell me what you've been up to the last ten years."

That soured the smile Revan had been holding back. Aeryn had to know, of course, but he wouldn't enjoy telling her. He was returning to the Republic, once again, as a herald of war.

"Master Shan?"

The voice sounded far away and Bastila ignored it for the moment. She had to determine if this sensation at the very back of her consciousness was real. It was difficult to focus on, elusive and ephemeral, like the delicate trace of smoke from a recently extinguished candlewick. It was so soft and subtle, a mere whisper heard from the far side of a vast expanse… could it be real?

"Master Shan?" The gentle tug below the waist of her tunic snapped Bastila back to reality. She looked down and into the young, concerned face of one of her students.

"Yes, Oden, I'm sorry. I was distracted." She noted that her class of over 20 younglings – with the exception of Oden – had all maintained their one-footed poses. The position was meant to practice concentration and physical balance and was difficult for their age. She felt a surge of pride. "You may relax now."

Bastila looked around the garden, one of many in the new Jedi academy on Naboo, and saw that it was now flooded with sunshine. The transparisteel dome overhead had automatically retracted when the rain had ended, probably while she had been distracted.

The Jedi Master smiled warmly at her students. "Even your teachers can be unfocused at times, and it appears today that is to your benefit. Let's end class early. Go play, enjoy the nice weather."

With a cheer, the younglings scattered for the exits, eager to be outdoors after days of rain. Bastila began to wander one of the paths through the now quiet garden and thought back to her early years in the Jedi Order. She had never been encouraged to play. It had not been discouraged, exactly, but her time had been generally tightly regimented and managed, leaving little room for simply being a child. Playtime was one of the many aspects of Jedi training that had changed in recent years. There had been hard lessons learned at the hands of Exar Kun and Ulic Qel-Droma, then Revan and Malak, and finally the Sith Triumvirate. The Order was trying new things – in small steps – and accepting that perhaps it had become somewhat dogmatic and repressive. Teaching Jedi students control now included tempering and balancing their emotions, not just restricting them. Though the Order still believed emotions generally did more harm than good, they understood that the purging of all emotions was not a realistic expectation for every student. Many fallen Jedi had failed to reach that ideal and instead only buried things that later contributed to their corruption.

As she rounded a turn in the path, Bastila was physically brought to her knees by a sudden onslaught of emotion. Her heart raced as long-forgotten memories erupted in her mind, images and imprints that were exultantly happy and wrenchingly sad. She recognized the scenes before her eyes; she had lived them. The perspective was wrong, though, as if they were being replayed from the view of someone else. A tremendous gasp, almost a cry, escaped Bastila's lips as one crystallized like a sharp blade in her head, a view of her face over a decade in the past; her eyes blown wide, her cheeks flushed, her lips parted breathlessly..

This was Revan's memory of their first kiss.

Revan.

Bastila's hand moved to brush off an insect that had landed on her cheek, only for it to come away wet. Was she crying? How silly, she reprimanded herself. She hadn't cried in years. Yes, the Jedi Order had perhaps a healthier perspective on emotions these days, but this was ridiculous. Jedi Masters don't cry over – over what? Proof that her former lover, ten years absent, was still alive? She hadn't doubted it.

These memories had come from Revan, she was certain of it. Their dormant – or perhaps extinct – bond had briefly flared to life, conveying to her through the Force what he was feeling and thinking at that moment. The whisper in the back of her mind a few minutes ago was the prelude, a hint that their bond was still virile but had been quietly sleeping.

Bastila's breathing returned to normal and she slowly got to her feet. She had for years assumed that even if she couldn't actively feel him through their bond, she would know if Revan died. But to experience firsthand the evidence of his continued survival, well… that was something else entirely.

He was returning – she knew it. The Force would not have reignited their bond for no reason. He was coming back and that certainly meant something of import, though good or bad she could only guess. She would confer with the other Masters on the Council; perhaps some of the others had experienced foreshadowing of their own recently.

As Bastila resumed her walking, she found it difficult to maintain any semblance of a measured pace. She was nervous, she had to admit. She wasn't sure how she felt about the possibility of Revan's return. She was glad to know he lived, certainly, but did she want to see him again? It did not matter, Bastila resolved. She had long ago given up her love for him and had released her hurt at being left by him.

Attempting to regain her center, Bastila focused on moving along the path and finding peace in the gentle currents of the Force flowing from and through the living things of the garden.

A few minutes down the path, however, she had sizzled a tamil bug on her amber lightsaber blade after it startled her with a noisy mating call. Perhaps she did need to talk to someone who could help her sort out her own feelings.

There was only one person whose insight she could rely upon in such murky topics. Bastila left the garden to find Visas.

In the meditation chamber on the uppermost level of the Jedi Academy, a group of a dozen or so Padawans sat cross-legged and upright in a semicircle around their instructor. Streams of golden sunlight poured through the elevated windows, bathing the room in a comforting warmth, suffusing every surface with a peaceful glow. It was, Visas decided, an ideal location for meditation, and it was in hopeful anticipation of this clearing in the weather that she had moved the practice session here. The direct sunlight heated her black and wine-colored robes to the perfect temperature. Though her sightless eyes could still see through the Force every detail of the world around her, the slight brightening that she could feel at the back of her retinas was something that connected her "vision" to the physical world. It was for this ethereal experience above all else that Visas often craved the caress of the sun.

The Miraluka felt Bastila's presence before she even heard the door in the far corner of the room swish open. It was hard to miss the tumult and worry that roiled about her friend, swirling and darkening her vibrant and usually calm Force aura. Visas did not know if her fellow council member had always radiated such confidence, but she certainly had for as long as Visas had known her.

Except for today, it would seem.

As Visas stood and informed her students that their lesson was ending prematurely, she broke into a reserved but still very uncharacteristic smile. Not so long ago she would have never imagined having close comrades such as the ones she had found in the Order, or that an esteemed Jedi such as Bastila would rely upon her for advice and friendship. She knew that her fellow council member would only have interrupted a lesson if she urgently needed support and insight and it meant the world to Visas that she had come to her now and many times in the past.

As the last Padawan filed out the opposite door Bastila approached with a nervous stride. "Visas, I'm sorry to have disrupted your class; it's only a silly thing and – "

Visas gently raised a hand to stop her. "My life, for yours. My friend, you would not have come here if it were a silly thing. I sense the turmoil you are feeling – share it with me." She knelt to a comfortable position and Bastila followed suit, sitting less than an arm's length away. The Jedi Master took a moment to gather herself; obviously what she had to share weighed greatly on her, so Visas waited patiently.

"Revan is returning."

Visas' lips parted slightly in surprise. It was not often these days that Bastila managed to shock her; they shared a closeness that was quite well known among both their peers and students. Perhaps the fame of their friendship owed to the surprise of it, that the deeply private Miraluka seer and the passionate yet reserved leader of the Jedi Order were seen in each other's company at least as often as not. Jolee, Bastila's self-appointed guardian, often joked that he preferred to check in on her by asking Visas instead; he had said that she would at least treat him with the respect that his age merited. Privately, though, Visas and Jolee had formed an unspoken alliance committed to ensuring the emotional and mental well-being of their leader, whose energy and strength were abundant for others but ran short for herself. Visas had come to greatly admire the venerable Jedi and found herself wishing he were here now so that he might bring some levity to this unexpectedly serious situation.

"How soon?" It was the first question that came to Visas' mind. She did not bother to ask Bastila if she was certain. Her friend would not have broached this matter if she possessed any doubt.

Bastila's brow furrowed slightly with frustration, letting Visas know she had attempted to discern that very thing and had failed. "I have no idea. Not long." Her voice fluttered ever so slightly as she voiced aloud the concept of Revan's imminent return – Visas would have missed it if she were not intently studying her for every flitter of facial expression and verbal nuance.

"You know this through your bond?" There was no hint of skepticism in the question, only an almost empirical curiosity laced heavily with concern.

Bastila nodded. "I felt him, only half an hour ago. It was brief, but it was real." She wrapped her arms around herself as if experiencing a chill. "It was very real." Visas put aside her burning desire for more information about the impending reappearance of the famed prodigal knight and instead focused on what concerned her even more.

"Bastila, how are you feeling?" Despite having obviously come to Visas for emotional support, she still looked surprised that her friend directed an inquiry towards her that carried no heed to the overarching issue of what this meant for the Jedi Order or the galaxy at large.

"I feel… upset." She sighed. "I don't love him anymore – I haven't felt love for him in ages. But I guess I am not as at peace with the way he left…" she paused briefly and heavily, "…left me, as I thought. Perhaps I have not truly forgiven him."

"Or perhaps it is only natural that you should feel turmoil at the return of someone you were once very close with, and who you thought you'd never see again," Visas responded, doing her best to give Bastila's own emotions a fighting chance. For someone who had fiercely championed the properness of emotions in a Jedi's life, she could be terrible at letting her own feelings escape and unburden themselves. Repression, it seemed, was too well ingrained in her Jedi disciplines, and she would not change at the same pace as the Order she guided.

"I don't know. That could be the case." Visas smiled slightly, pleased with this small victory. "Perhaps I just wasn't ready for the emotional onslaught of that connection. Things have been going so well; I suppose I have become too accustomed to the routine of life lately. This…. this changes everything."

That it did, Visas thought, as she placed her hands behind her body and reclined slightly in an uncharacteristically relaxed pose. The sun-heated stone floor generously spread warmth through her palms and up her arms. The sky showed no signs of resurgent clouds, so after a few minutes of silence Visas stood and offered Bastila a hand, which she was too lost in thought to notice at first, but then took readily. The Miraluka knew one thing for certain that would ease the stress radiating off her friend.

"Come. The beauty of this day has only begun. Let's go for a run." Bastila smiled at her suggestion, and so they left together.