Author notes:
Non-stop Mandalorian madness. Well, not exactly. But Canderous is pretty much there the whole time, glaring at you from over your shoulder, silently judging you an idiot. You know, as meangirl!Canderous is wont to do.
Edit: Ya'll know that Revan and Aeryn's last name, Venachi, is pronounced Ven-ah-kie (like pie)? It just occurred to me, while writing a chapter that is literally halfway through the SECOND part of the trilogy, that maybe no one outside of my head knows how it sounds. And maybe it sounds really lame in another pronunciation. Honestly, I don't really love Venachi in my pronunciation either, but I never found anything else that really felt right. I'm open to suggestions.
The warm, humid air was repeatedly pierced by the stinging vibration of clashing metal, sparks streaking off the pair of vibroswords and arcing into the trodden grass. Revan countered every move of his opponent, relying on speed and agility to turn his blade into a shield against the much stronger blows of the other sword, the one that sought his flesh. The Jedi recognized that his strength was inferior to that of the man who combated him. He could not overpower him, not without violating the rules of this engagement. So when the next crushing swing came hurtling towards him, he called on the subversive tactics that had won him so many battles past. Instead of parrying the forceful swing, Revan released his sword entirely and dropped into a four-point crouch. His sword was sent sailing away as he turned his crouch into a kicking sweep of his opponent's legs. The foe dropped face-first into the grass. Before he could recover Revan was standing again, with his foe's sword firmly resting against the back of his neck.
"Rise, ner'vod."
The unarmored Mandalorian rose to his feet and returned to the circle of dozens of warriors that ringed them in a grassy field at the center of the Dxun base. That they would train with Revan and Aeryn in plain garments instead of their usual Neo-crusader armor was a sign of great respect.
They had been formally accepted as fellow Mando'ade, and that still made Revan's head spin. He had hated their people during the war, had relished every victory over them, had struggled time and again against the powerful temptation to reciprocate upon them their own brutalities. Only after meeting the Sith Emperor had the abatement of his hatred begun, calmed in the horrifying comprehension of Vitiate's manipulative malevolence.
They were a broken people back then, twisted by dishonorable leaders who had allowed themselves to be made puppets to the Emperor. Revan regretted that he had burned with the desire to drive them to extinction; he was grateful that he had failed.
But as Canderous had recently pointed out, they had to be rendered broken and powerless to be freed from bondage to the Sith strategy. They had to be nearly destroyed to return to the traditions that had guided them for millennia.
Standing among the Mando'ade now, revered by them on a level equal to Mandalore himself, Revan mused momentarily on the great irony that the Force had used him to ultimately benefit his once hated enemies.
"Tion'jor Ni brokar gar?" Why did I beat you? Revan queried the young warrior who had just faced him.
"I put too much power into my swing, ori'vod," he replied promptly. Ori'vod – big brother – is what the younger warriors had taken to calling him. Their view of him was different than most Mando'ade, having grown up hearing tales of the glorious battles waged against their most fearsome opponent, yet never having faced him themselves.
To those who had faced him, he was Revan'naast. Revan the destroyer. It was a title that welled up quite a complicated mixture of emotion in him.
Although, in Mandalorian culture, destroyer was not necessarily a bad thing. This younger generation saw him as a metal smith's fire in which the steel of their peoples' blade had been purified and forged anew.
It was hero worship and he hated it, just as much as he had loathed the Republic's adoration of him long ago. At least ori'vod was a relatively humble moniker.
"That's not necessarily bad in and of itself, but against the darjetii it must be reserved for precisely the right moment," Revan explained, turning slowly to look at each of the young men as he spoke. "It requires little strength to move a jetii'kad through thin air. I can more easily change the course of my blade than you can yours. When you commit your strength to the blow, you have also committed your agility."
Aeryn stepped from the crowd into the circle now, with the hilt of her lightsaber in hand. Revan stepped backward to the center of the circle and raised his sword to her in salute. With a snap-hiss, she ignited her silver blade and held it casually to her side in a single hand.
Revan charged, making a flurry of attacks with the sword. Aeryn parried each one easily, not yet attempting to push him back. Sparks lanced away from the cortosis-edged weapon after each contact with his sister's energetic blade. Revan pushed in harder, using his superior strength to create an opening. With one last swing, his sword shoved Aeryn's saber off to her right; the hilt completed a spin in his hand and then with two hands he brought it down again on his exposed foe.
Except Aeryn had used the momentum of his blade's impact upon hers to whip the lightsaber behind her back, changing to her left hand along the way. Now the tip of the blade hovered a centimeter from his right side and he had barely started his own swing.
Revan froze, bringing his weapon to a halt in mid-motion. "See?" he spoke to the crowd. "I thought I had created an opening with superior strength, but I lost in speed. So save your strength for when your opponent is tired or wounded and they've slowed."
"And I wasn't even using jetiise mand'bor," Aeryn added. She made a flourish with her free hand – "I could've done something like this" – and sent a tiny jolt of lightning into Revan's chest. He cursed and dropped his sword while the warriors laughed.
Aeryn grinned at him evilly; he just glared and rubbed the small burn mark.
Their training session continued for several more hours, with both Jedi using their lightsabers to instruct the young Mando'ade on fighting Sith. The crowd grew, many veterans joining. They dueled with each of them in turn, giving experience with what was, to most, a completely foreign fighting style. And it continued from there into a tactics lesson.
"Don't rely on these," Aeryn said, holding aloft a flash grenade. "An experienced Force user may not be slowed by these at all. Losing your sight is shocking, even for a jetii, but if you're prepared for it then it's easy enough to rely fully on the Force until your sight returns."
Revan nodded, remembering the first time he was blinded in such a fashion. It was a clever move and, despite his powerful connection to the Force, nothing prepared you for unexpectedly losing your sight. He couldn't help but rely on his eyes for far too much. It had cost time and lives, and he had been deeply frustrated with himself.
The next time, though, he had been ready.
"Make them angry," Revan advised a while later. "Anger makes them stupid and gives you an opening. You were very good at making the Jedi and the Republic angry during the war, and it worked for you. We made mistakes because of it." He paused as his throat tightened; he took a deep breath to shrug off the bitter memories of his own enraged errors and the lives they had cost. "It will work even better against the darjetii. They rely too much on anger for their power and it makes them more susceptible to being overcome by it."
"What about the aruetii?" someone asked, referring to the Sith's new allies. The foreigners, the outsiders. A few days prior, Revan had gathered every available Mandalorian in the base's largest hangar and spent several hours sharing everything he knew about this strange alien race.
"The others are driven by honor and prestige, to an extent that would even make the Mando'ade pause." A surprised murmur ran through the crowd of warriors gathered around him. "They can be goaded to sacrifice strategy in order to claim an important kill. The Jedi will be instrumental in bringing that about because they view us as the ultimate prize."
The Mandalorians that had fought against the Republic nodded, remembering well Cassus Fett's collection of lightsabers and the prestige it had brought him.
"But it also makes them dangerous, because they are fanatics. They will fight to the death, even when there is nothing to gain. Especially when there is nothing to gain."
It was a warning that foreshadowed tremendous bloodshed.
Aeryn stood on a verdant Dxun mountaintop, eyes closed, face tilted upward into the storm, robes billowing violently. Around her, the jungle swayed and danced in the gusting wind. Trees bent and groaned, leafy fronds whipped about, pausing as they reached their greatest extent of elasticity before snapping back, only to be forced to endure the process yet again.
The wind was loud, but the rain was louder. Heavy drops pelted every surface, every tree branch and giant leaf and mossy stone and tall blade of grass. The sound of each liquid impact combined to create a cacophonous roar, a symphony that moved with ebbs and flows like ocean waves crashing, but here the ocean was green and the waves were gentle and couldn't knock Aeryn from her feet.
A blurry memory rose almost hesitantly to the fore of her mind. She had been small, a little girl, and the ocean waves had knocked her face-first into the sand. It hurt only a little; it had scared her much more. Her father scooped her up and her mother reassured her without putting down the baby in her arms, and Revan hovered at her should in a state of deep concern. She eventually stopped crying and Revan had encouraged her back into the water. The water was warm and the wind was kind, though the waves had continued to intimidate her.
Here on top of one of the many mountains of the jungle moon, the wind and the rain were powerful but they were also warm and cleansing.
This is how Dxun renews itself, she thought. Here in the storm, with her senses fully open to the Force, not attempting to discern or accomplish anything but only to be awash in the current of life, here she felt the life of the planet basking in the rain. It didn't matter how the storm seemed to abuse the land, the land still reveled in it. The storm purified the land.
With raindrops streaming down her face and mixing with her own tears, she felt the storm was purifying her as well. It was as if Dxun had never been a wartime hell hole as if it weren't littered with the corpses of hundreds of thousands of friends and enemies. People she had led. People that had died on her command.
Her comlink chirped.
Aeryn opened her eyes. Raindrops pricked at her green orbs but still, she looked upward, admiring the beauty of the storm. Tempestuous swirls of dark clouds spiraled thickly about the higher peaks, smoky prominences were dragged from their undersides into the valleys, and the wind carved delicate patterns into the sea of lush treetops that drowned her surroundings.
Her comlink chirped again, and this time she conceded defeat.
"Yes?" she asked as she pulled the device from her belt.
"Aeryn, where are you?" her brother's voice asked, sounding tinny through the small speaker.
"I went for a hike."
"It's really loud where you are."
She rolled her eyes. He was probably buried behind the stack of intel datapads Mandalore had given him and obviously hadn't stepped outside to notice the weather.
"Anyway, Canderous says it's time to go," he continued.
"Acknowledged. I'll be back in an hour." Without waiting for a reply she slapped the device back into its pouch on her belt, turned her face upward into the rain for a last, long moment.
She reluctantly began descending the mountain.
She changed into a set of dry garments before meeting Revan and Canderous in one of the hangars.
"You've gotten good at masking your presence," Revan commented when she arrived. "I tried to find you in the Force at first, but I gave up after ten minutes.
She shot him a quizzical look. "Maybe you've just gotten bad at looking. I was actually trying to be as open as possible."
"Hmm," he replied as if filing away the curiosity for later investigation.
They entered the shuttle where Mandalore was waiting for them. It was a simple craft, though Aeryn was certain she spotted some discrete armament modifications.
"We're not riding in on a Basilisk?" Revan joked as they took seats in the cockpit.
"The relationship between the Queen's government and the Clans is supposed to be discrete," Mandalore growled, not looking up from where he was preflight cycling the engines.
Aeryn shoved Revan's shoulder playfully. "Did you take riding lessons while you were away?"
Her brother ignored what seemed to be a non-sequitur comment, but Mandalore didn't. "I thought you battled on a Basilisk during the Randon campaign?"
"I did," was all he said.
"Once it was on the ground," Aeryn expounded gleefully. "He never figured out how to handle it in the air. Nearly killed himself twice trying."
Mandalore turned in his seat to stare Revan down through his mask's black visor. "You can't fly a Basilisk?"
"I just needed more time to practice."
"Pfft," Aeryn snorted, remembering how she'd found her brother a klick from the practice field, lying in the dirt bruised and bloodied from hitting too many tree limbs on the way down. Above, the Basilisk droid had been still hovering, as if amused to watch its hapless rider suffer. "More time and you would've been dead."
The flight passed quickly for Aeryn, who happily continued to share embarrassing stories of the great Revan'naast, from childhood all the way through Jedi training and war years. Before she knew it they were touching down in Iziz.
"So he's standing there with a chopped-off lightsaber hilt and she says 'are any of your other things half-sized and non-functional?'" Mandalore recounted mirthfully as they descended the shuttle's landing ramp. Aeryn burst out laughing. Revan shook his head and muttered irritably under his breath. "It was the first and only time I heard the Ice Queen make a good joke."
The hangar in which they had landed was at one extreme end of the royal palace complex. Like the rest of the palace, and most of the city around it, the hangar was constructed of smooth, light-colored stone. The space was unusually clean for a landing bay and Aeryn wondered if that was from disuse or obsessive care.
In keeping with the need for discretion, there was no one there to receive them. Even the hangar control room was vacant. Mandalore led them through the palace, into disguised passageways, and through secured doorways. Revan shot Aeryn a look the third time they paused for him to enter a code into a hidden control panel. She simply shrugged in response. She had no idea how deep the alliance was between Onderon and the Clans. Mandalore, at least, enjoyed a profound level of access into the palace.
After several minutes of silent, circuitous travel they suddenly emerged through a doorway from a narrow stairway and into a large anteroom. Their arrival was nearly silent, but the guards scattered throughout the room were obviously on top of their game.
Despite the large number of weapons that had been immediately leveled at her, Aeryn sensed no danger and her hand didn't even twitch toward her lightsaber.
"Mandalore!" One of the guards with rank insignia spoke up, and just as quickly as they had been drawn, the blasters were lowered. He was middle-aged, with a well-groomed beard that grayed at the edges. He saluted with a fist over his heart, in the Mandalorian tradition. "We've been expecting you and your two companions."
"Hateem, inform the Queen of our arrival," Canderous ordered.
"She is already waiting, Mandalore," he said. Hateem, who Aeryn inferred to be the captain of the royal guard, or at least of this rotation of the guard, nodded to a subordinate. A previously hidden door opened, seams appearing suddenly in what had appeared to be a solid stone wall.
"Looks like the Queen's learned a thing or two about security since the coup," Aeryn commented to her armored companion.
It wasn't mean to be overheard, but it must have reached Hateem's ears because a shock of recognition rushed over his features. "You're the Jedi Exile!"
Aeryn felt the uncomfortable weight of nearly every set of eyes snapping toward her. "Yes…" she answered uncertainly.
Hateem snapped off a brisk salute, this one in the traditional fashion of the Republic military. "The people of Onderon owe you a great debt, Master Venachi."
To her increasing discomfort, every guard in the room joined in the gesture of respect. Aeryn simply nodded and followed Mandalore through the door. Though her brother followed, she could feel him smirking.
"You look like that's never happened before, General," he commented wryly as the door shut behind them.
"Oh shut up. I hated it then, and I hate it even more now," she huffed. "I didn't even realize anyone around here knew my name."
Revan nodded, and the comforting arm that wrapped around her shoulders told her he recognized the nerve he had touched.
"Bad memories…" he sighed guiltily.
Aeryn nodded, and they left it at that.
Inside the room was a large semi-circular stone desk, in the center of which sat a padded, ornate chair. Several other chairs ringed the opposite side of the desk, and not far from there was an open seating area with more relaxed-looking chairs, as well as some couches. Sunlight streamed through skylights cut into the stone roof. Aeryn could detect the faint shimmer of shielding across those openings.
In the seating area, a tall woman waited for them. She wore flowing golden robes and an extravagant circlet adorning her pile of dark hair, but these were not what immediately identified her as the Queen. In her strong and perfect posture, she radiated grace, dignity, confidence, and power. This woman held dominion over much and she knew it, yet was humble. Aeryn immediately remembered why she had liked her, and why she deserved to be queen.
"Welcome friends! It has been too long," Queen Talia addressed them. Revan and Aeryn bowed politely, as was expected, but they were both shocked when Mandalore removed his helmet and clapped a fist across his chest.
"Your Highness," he said.
"Mandalore." She smiled stunningly at him. "How good to see you again."
She invited them to sit. Aeryn had to smother a derisive grin as she watched Mandalore, in all his panoplied glory, struggle to take a position on the low couches with some semblance of dignity. Battle armor was not the most appropriate wardrobe choice for tea with the queen.
"Thank you for meeting with us, Your Majesty," Revan began.
Talia inclined her head in acknowledgment. "Think nothing of it. You both saved my kingdom during the War, and your sister saved it again not long ago. We are indebted to you."
"Then if I may be so bold, Your Majesty, I have come to collect on that debt."
"Indeed?" Talia replied, leaning back in her seat, her face thoughtful and curious.
"The Sith empire – an empire that has lain quietly for centuries now – is ready to strike. Malak and I were meant to be the vanguard, of sorts, though we betrayed the master that had sent us. We intended to conquer the Republic that it might be strengthened for the war against the Sith – unified under strategic leadership, reorganized into a civilization that could endure and triumph, have its corruption burned from it. But…" his voice tremored imperceptibly. "We lost our way."
Aeryn placed a hand on her brother's shoulder, giving the same silent reassurance that she was going to provide every time he spoke of his fall.
"After my restoration and the defeat of Malak, I left to rediscover my past. I eventually regained all my former knowledge – with the help of Mandalore – and I infiltrated the Sith. I was able to weaken them, but I have also forced their hand. They are going to attack the Republic, very soon, and they have recently acquired new allies that may negate any gains I created."
Talia took this in, watching him in a minute of calm silence. When she spoke, it was with the same serenity.
"And what would you have me do? Onderon will fight with the Republic, of course, and should the Republic will not fight then we will fight with you and with Mandalore."
"If the Republic doesn't fight, then it deserves to die," Mandalore growled, earning him sharp glares from Aeryn and Talia.
"The Republic will fight," Revan assured them, "but I fear it will begin the fight too late, or that it will start the fight in a divided state." He looked the Queen in the eye. "What I need, your Majesty, is your political support, even more than I will need your army."
"When I was here, Onderon nearly seceded from the Republic," Aeryn said. "Your support and the support of your people will have a great impact for that very reason."
Talia nodded. "Indeed, the skeptic-turned-champion is a highly compelling narrative."
"We will be fighting this war on many fronts," Revan continued. "If the Republic does not stand united, it will fall. We cannot afford systems joining the other side, or senators parlaying events for their own gain."
"There is no way to avoid that, Revan," the Queen countered gently. "Many politicians are seeking first and foremost their own reelection and aggrandizement, and they will not make the hard decisions that cause them to be unpopular at home."
Aeryn got the distinct impression that her brother was resisting the urge to bury his head in his hands.
"I know," he almost groaned. "Force, did I learn that during the Mandalorian Wars. That lesson cost me my faith in the Republic, and in my arrogance I concluded that I alone could save it by seizing total control. We know how that ended up."
"This time is different, though," Aeryn said, coming to her brother's defense. "We are different, wiser, and the mistakes of the past will not be repeated."
"Hmm." Talia studied them both closely, though Revan received an extra portion of her probing stare. "What will prevent you from falling again?" The question was asked as gently as could be done, but still, Aeryn winced. She supposed Revan would have to get used to answering it, though; it would surely be asked many more times as they pled their case across the Republic.
"Besides the changes within myself, that can't be seen and have to be taken on belief?" Revan replied with a dark chuckle. "This time I am returning in humility, with no army and no allies, only a small band of friends. This time I haven't the time to save the Republic by conquering it; the Sith will be upon us all too soon. This time I haven't been recently brainwashed by the Sith emperor. This time I am not exposed to the corrupting influence of the Star Forge."
The Queen leaned forward slightly, peering into Revan's eyes with a sharply discerning gaze that seemed to penetrate flesh and bone.
"But what of the changes within yourself? I have known you before your fall and have heard much of you after it. You are a conflicted man – calculating yet passionate, devoted to saving life yet willing to kill time and again, humble yet desiring the power to change the course of history. Can all those things coexist without leading to schism?"
Talia sat upright again and delicately sipped her tea, the docility of the act in sharp contrast to her piercing questions. She set her cup down. "I think that the changes within yourself are what matter the most, far more than circumstance."
To Aeryn's surprise, Revan smiled. "I agree with you, Your Majesty." He paused a long moment before continuing, and the Queen patiently awaited his exposition.
"During the Mandalorian Wars, I became a cold machine, as I'm sure my sister can attest."
"You became a self-righteous bastard," she happily supplied.
"Yes, that, thank you." Revan took a quick drink of the tea. "I believed it would serve the Republic better for me to discard attachment to all my friends and family, to sacrifice my heart to preserve my rational judgment."
"Despite that being the standard teaching of the Jedi Order, it is something neither of us ever could believe," Aeryn noted.
Revan nodded. "Once I became responsible for most of the war, though, it seemed perfectly reasonable to me. I drove my own sister and my best friend away. I sacrificed Aeryn to the effects of the mass shadow generator, and I dragged Alek – Malak – into an exploration of darkness that I knew would change him forever. My coldness led to winning strategies, but also my own downfall.
"Even so, I don't think my logic was wrong. Attachments can be a tremendous liability in war, a point of vulnerability to be exploited, and a source of irrational decisions."
"Hm, that I am very aware of," the Queen mused aloud.
"The problem was that my entire point of view was based on my flawed understanding of the Force – I saw it only as a tool that we could use to save the Republic. I sought to control every variable that I could, and to do so I had to acquire more and more power. That is why I fell. There is no dark side, there is only the darkness within us; I gave my inner darkness access to great power, and it eventually controlled me.
"A Jedi's connection to the Force isn't about light or dark or self-control – it's about giving up control. The Force takes a much stronger hand in guiding us – all of us – than even the Jedi Order believes, and the only way to conquer the darkness is to surrender to the Force and let a power far greater dominate our actions. To let the Force guide us and empower us, rather than relying on our own powers of discipline and self-control – not that I'm saying those are unimportant, but I hope you follow my meaning."
Talia nodded. Aeryn sensed Mandalore shift uncomfortably in his seat; she wasn't sure if it was caused by his awkward position or listening to Revan speak of surrender and submission.
"Conquering the Republic would never have protected it. Removing the variables of politics and corruption couldn't have succeeded – those things are inextricable from sentient nature. Only the Force could have affected such a change, but the Force serves life, not enslaves it. Instead, I should have made myself a true servant of the Force, trusting it to protect all life. That's what I will do now."
Talia arched an inquisitive eyebrow. "Are you saying that you will not lead us in this war?"
"I will if the Force takes me in that direction." Revan smiled humorlessly. "I seem to be a useful tool in the area of strategy and leadership – but it will be the Force using me, not the other way around."
"The Republic leadership will also use you," Talia warned.
"I won't become a pawn of others because of my new understanding of the Force. I answer only to the Force, and that gives me freedom and strength. They will find me to be pragmatic – to a point – and also difficult to control."
Aeryn slapped her brother on the back. "They're going to hate you even more than they did during the Mando Wars."
Talia grinned. "Sometimes the scorn of the political establishment means you are doing things right. Onderon will give you every gram of political strength we can muster. We stand with you."
Revan bowed his head. "Thank you, Your Majesty. Although this has been my first meeting, in addition to Onderon I know that we will be able to rely on the senator from Sleyheyron, and I hope to recruit several more." Aeryn shot him a questioning glance but he responded with a look that said 'later.'
Talia nodded. "That is good, and we will need even more than that. I will contact our senator and discuss this with him. He knows better than I who we can rally to our cause. The Japrael sector will follow our lead, and I believe we can influence our trading partners along the Lantillian, and Telos has been a close ally of late."
The discussion continued into specific political strategies for some time, as Revan and the Queen considered different avenues of gathering support. Revan shared the very brief list of influential senators whom he respected and who had respected him. Despite the Queen's demurral, her awareness of the Republic's larger political sphere was razor-sharp and she was able to confirm which of those senators were still active and how much influence they retained, which had retired, and which had been assassinated.
The latter comprised a surprisingly high portion, in fact, and most had met their end within the last year.
"That would be Vitiate's doing," Revan informed them sadly. "His intelligence network is infiltrated deep into the heart of Coruscant – they would be aware of who my allies are."
"Should we warn the senator from Sleyheyron?" the Queen asked. Revan shook his head.
"She is already aware of the risks, and I believe the Sith are still unaware of our connection. There's nothing to gain, as the warning could be intercepted."
After a while, Aeryn had the uncomfortable realization that here, in this meeting, she had more in common with Mandalore than her brother. They were both out of place, neither one being particularly skilled or well-informed in the trade of diplomacy and politicking. The Queen had been born into it, and Revan had been forced to learn it during the war, but Aeryn had been protected. So she was relieved (and quite bored) when, after determining that the Mandalorians should be kept invisible for as long as possible, it was decided they could go no further on their own.
The two Jedi excused themselves, while the Queen detained poor Mandalore for a while longer to discuss matters specific to their two peoples.
"I actually feel sorry for him," Aeryn commented as they meandered through the palace corridors, following datapad instructions to their assigned rooms. She arched her back in a long stretch and yawned.
"You? Sorry for Canderous?" Revan shrugged. "I guess it was pretty boring," he allowed, though he had hardly seemed to find it so.
"Yeah, it was pretty boring." They arrived at her quarters and she palmed open the door. "At least I'm already half-asleep."
Hours later, in the depth of night, Revan stood on one of the stone balconies near his room, his mind fuzzy with tiredness but unable to stop processing. The lights of Iziz sprawled out around him in all directions, as far as the eye could see. The city was massive, nearly continental in size, owing to the planet's entire population being contained within, and the palace rose above it all.
It was beautiful, Revan thought. Not as mechanical or imposing as Coruscant – the tallest buildings were less than a kilometer high, and those were few and far between. The smooth, curved stone surfaces gently reflected the surrounding light, multiplying the point sources into a suffusing glow that was warm and enchanting.
Despite the total silence from both the palace and the moving human form, Revan still anticipated his sister's approach.
"I guess I didn't bore you enough?" he asked as Aeryn sidled up next to him. She yawned and slumped forward against the ornately carved marble railing.
The siblings sat in silence for several minutes, enjoying the cool night air after the day's humid heat. A city as large as Iziz never slept, and there was a continuous stream of glittering speeder traffic in the distance, occasionally punctuated by the burning vertical arc of a ship departing or arriving.
"Why are you up?" Aeryn finally asked, her voice unconsciously matching the quietude that pervaded the stone halls around them.
"I can never sleep after a big strategy session. Too much second-guessing."
"I hate political strategy," she groused, dragging a palm down her face.
"It is the worst kind," he agreed. "And it leaves me with the most doubt. Why are you up?"
"I was writing a letter, then wondering if I should send it, or where even to send it to."
"I think Atton knows you're returning. Bastila knows, and if he's joined the Order then he's probably heard the news."
"How do you know Bastila knows?"
He shrugged. "I just do."
"I think we've been spending far too much time pining over our love lives lately. It's getting depressing."
Revan shrugged again. "Not much else to do. Too much time to think, and thinking only gets me more questions. Like this: how is it that we parted ways for fifteen years but both ended up with essentially the same understanding of the Force?"
He thought she'd snap off something like he had finally overcome the significant differences in their intelligence. Instead, his sister just stared thoughtfully out at the horizon, chin in her palm.
"I think the deepest knowledge of the Force only comes through tragedy, through personal suffering. We've both experienced plenty of that."
"Hm. I guess it's the one thing our lives have had in common over the last era."
They returned to silence, content to watch the lights of Iziz and enjoy the comfort of having family near. Revan wondered if he should take a cue from Aeryn and write to Bastila, but what would he say? Everything had to be subsequent to the apology, and that was best done in person. She needed to see his eyes to realize how sorry he was. He wasn't sure she'd believe him otherwise.
He wasn't sure she'd believe him, no matter what.
"Shouldn't there be guards patrolling?" Aeryn suddenly asked.
"Huh?"
"I mean, the last time I stayed here was in the wake of a coup, but we've been out here for quite a while and I haven't seen a single patrol come by."
Come to think it, he'd been out here at least an hour and a half before her and hadn't seen a single being. He had barely begun to consider that information when the lights went out.
The wall sconces in the corridor behind them, though dimmed considerably for nighttime, were now completely dark. The nearby comm panel looked dead too. The only illumination came from the glow of the surrounding city. Revan's hand instinctually went to his lightsaber.
Aeryn looked at him with raised eyebrows. "I bet it's not easy to take out primary and backup power for the royal palace."
"EMP?"
"I think I would've felt it. And my comlink is still working."
Revan nodded. "Let's find our way to the Queen."
The pair worked their way quickly and silently through the palace, retracing the steps that had taken them from the Queen's meeting chamber to their sleeping quarters. Soon they reached the secured door that marked the boundary of heightened security between the Queen's wing and the surrounding sections.
"Locked," Revan muttered. With a quick flick of his wrist, the adjacent control panel came flying off to reveal extremely limited circuitry underneath. "I don't think I can hotwire this."
Aeryn's hand on his arm stopped him from trying. "Look," she whispered. He followed her gaze to the nearest intersection of halls, wondering what she saw. After a moment of focusing, he could make out a faint, diffuse reflection of green light against the wall.
Around the corner, something was blinking. In a palace without power.
Uh-oh.
They raced to the light source and found a simple gray cylinder lying next to the wall; it had an enlarged cap on either end, with an inset groove where green light spilled out every other second. Revan and Aeryn stooped to examine it.
"Kriff," he muttered.
"Kriff as in 'I don't have a clue how to disarm this' kriff or kriff as in 'there's a bomb here and we don't know when it's gonna blow and I'm thirty centimeters from it' kriff?"
"Both."
"Think it's motion-sensitive?"
"Hell if I know," Revan replied, making a gesture of futility towards the device. "I've never seen anything like it."
"Me neither," Aeryn said. "It's elegant, kind of like the stuff the Ailon Nova Guard made during the war."
Revan looked at his sister – brow furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line. "Aren't those the ones we were never successful at disarming?"
"Yeah." Her hand shot out to intercept Revan's as he reached for it. "Don't," she commanded firmly. "Their stuff was always motion-sensitive."
He slowly retracted the hand. His mind raced – T3 was still on Dxun, they might not have time to find someone, he'd only disarmed a bomb once – he was at a total loss until a memory rushed back to him.
"We can channel the blast," he told his sister. She looked at him incredulously.
"Yeah, some of it. And the rest will kill us while we're distracted."
"No, we can do it. I've done it before," he rushed to assure her. "One of the ships I had while I was gone, it had a faulty reactor coil. When it overloaded I was able to save a small portion of the ship by using the Force to sort of redirect the explosion."
"A small portion?" Aeryn asked skeptically.
"I kept enough of the ship intact to keep me alive."
"How did you turn out?"
"Third-degree burns and – look, it doesn't matter, are you going to help me or not?"
Aeryn signed heavily, a noise that was so classically his little sister. It let Revan know that she was going to collaborate and that she thought he was an insane idiot. "How do you divert an explosion?"
"Remember when we were kids and we would hike to the waterfalls south of the academy? And we would use the Force to push the water around, and try and make it follow crazy paths?"
"Pushing an explosion is like pushing water?" Aeryn wondered.
"They're both slippery and completely unlike pushing a solid object. You do remember the waterfalls, right?"
"Yeah, I remember!" she snapped. "This is just insane."
Revan regarded her with a soft look and squeezed her hand reassuringly. "I know you don't like to think about it, Aeryn, but you have tremendous power. We can do this."
Aeryn squeezed back, then surveyed their surroundings. "So which way should we point this cannon?"
Revan paused, realizing he hadn't gotten that far yet. Fortunately, Aeryn pointed toward the opposite wall with confidence.
"This way. I can sense people over there," she said, referring to the wall the device sat against, "but I don't sense anybody in this direction. It's definitely not quarters."
Revan nodded and they took opposite sides facing each other, with the bomb in between. "The hardest part is going to be controlling it vertically," he told her. "The more we push on it from the sides, the more it's going to try and escape in the other directions."
"Okay, so you keep it from dropping the roof on our heads and I'll keep it from dropping us ten levels."
They both closed their eyes and slipped deeper into the warm currents of the Force. They reached out for each other, seeking to combine their strength to become more powerful than the sum of their parts. It had worked for them several times in the past, and their close relationship meant that creating the connection had always happened easily.
This time, though, Revan noticed something that he wasn't sure had been there before. There was a pull on his consciousness, barely noticeable, yet nearly inescapable; a gentle gravity well that was inexorably bringing him into sync with Aeryn. It filled Revan with complete certainty that when the time came to act, they would act in perfect harmony. It was nothing like his bond with Bastila – it was more as if his body had come under a spell that would guide it in its moments of action.
They waited for the Force to tell them when to act. The wait seemed to drag on, and Revan was just beginning to feel foolish about not trying to find palace security to deal with the bomb when an urgent warning drilled through his skull. He flung up his hands, pushing with all his mind against something that had not yet materialized.
Then everything turned white, even behind tightly shuttered eyelids. The feedback against his exertion was tremendous; he gritted his teeth and dug in his heels as fire and heat and wind roared just beneath his hands. The skin of his palms blistered under the infernal onslaught. He felt Aeryn straining likewise; he felt shards of stone tearing into his robes and slicing his skin in dozens of places; he felt the rush of fear from hundreds of minds that were suddenly torn from slumber.
In a second it was over. The furious pressure working against him ceased and he stumbled forward, nearly knocking heads with Aeryn as she did the same; they both landed on a floor strewn with sharp rubble. Hot air and noxious smoke billowed around them, driven by wild pressure differentials left in the wake of the blast.
Also, that brand new hole running all the way to the exterior of the palace might have something to do with it.
Revan's eyes took several long moments to readjust to near-total darkness; they immediately sought out Aeryn to confirm that, despite her greatly bloodied appearance, she was fine. Then he slumped back on his forearms and did his best to ignore the pain in his hands so he could admire their handiwork.
"That was a hell of a thing!" his sister remarked from her position on the floor beside him.
"What?" Revan asked; his ears were buzzing like mad. She looked at him quizzically – she'd seen his mouth move but barely heard a thing.
"Hell of a thing!" she repeated, louder this time. He nodded.
"Yeah. Look!" Revan gestured to his body. "No burns!"
Aeryn laughed. He was a mess, dripping blood from hundreds of cuts, and she was sure she looked no better. "Your hands!" she pointed out, happy to spoil his proud moment. He cursed. "Still, I didn't think it would work this well," she mused.
He nodded. "Definitely better than last time. Hey, what's that thing that you were doing?"
Aeryn looked distinctly uncomfortable. So, she knew exactly what he was referring to. She looked ready to brush off his question when a gruff voice spoke from behind them.
"What the blazes happened out here?"
Revan craned his neck to see the speaker while his brain processed the fact that nobody had snuck up on them from either side and that there ought to be a wall behind them preventing approach from that direction as well. However, his eyes confirmed that the only wall behind him now was an imposing wall of muscle and anger with a heavy carbine tightly gripped in one hand.
"Canderous!" he exclaimed.
"Canderous, I thought Mandalorians slept in their armor!" Aeryn burst out in a scandalized tone. "What will the clan leaders say when I show them pictures of your silk pajamas?"
"They'll say you weren't good enough to die at the hands of Mandalore," he growled.
"What are you doing over here?" Revan asked.
"I was sleeping."
"I'd say that's not all he was doing."
Aeryn, who had returned to her feet and could see over the piles of debris surrounding Canderous, was staring past him with wide eyes.
A dozen meters behind Mandalore were his mangled sleeping quarters. Rubble was strewn everywhere, and carefully picking her way barefooted through the mess towards their position, wearing a hastily donned robe and gripping a blaster in one hand, was the Queen.
"What happened here?" Talia asked, her voice full of command. Despite the complete impropriety of appearance for someone of her rank, she exuded poise and control as if she were seated on a throne. Revan and Aeryn both bowed.
"A bomb, Your Majesty," explained Revan. "Aeryn and I were able to direct the blast somewhat. The bomb was placed right against the wall of your quarters. I mean, Mandalore's quarters."
The words tumbled out clumsily, earning an extremely pointed look from his sister and spawning a pregnant pause; it seemed as if the Queen, remarkably, was at a loss for words. Feeling cocky after cheating death, he decided to take the verbal plunge.
"Your Majesty, but how, um, deeply does the alliance between Onderon and the Clans go?" Revan watched carefully as Talia and Canderous exchanged a brief glance, then they both stared him down for a long moment before Talia answered.
"Marriage." She laid a delicate hand on Canderous' bare arm and Revan could've sworn he saw the grizzled man relax ever so slightly.
"A political marriage?" he pressed.
"Riduurok," Canderous pronounced firmly. "I married her because I love her."
Heavy silence reigned. Revan was fully aware of the strong traditions of romantic love in Mandalorian culture but still, to hear it passionately proclaimed from the mouth of Canderous… it was akin to seeing water leak from a stone.
"I introduced the two of you," Aeryn noted with a grin. "Did my wedding invitation get lost on the holonet?"
Talia smiled in return and the hovering awkwardness was broken. "It was an extremely secretive affair. And I didn't know how to get in touch with you, or Kavar."
Aeryn frowned. "Kavar died, shortly after we left here."
The Queen's eyes widened with shock and sadness. "Oh. I'm so sor-"
Revan interrupted with a harsh cutting gesture. "If you want to preserve the secrecy of your marriage, you'd better come up with an alibi, Your Majesty." The words had hardly left his mouth and emergency lighting was restored. Shouting echoed down the halls towards them.
"It's fine. Hateem knows where I am; he will make sure we are not found by others."
Sure enough, Hateem rounded the corner seconds later in a full sprint. He was alone and clearly shocked to discover the two Jedi there as well.
"Your Majesty!" he bowed. "You are unharmed?"
"I am fine, Hateem. Make sure no one was caught in the blast," she ordered, indicating the yawning hole on the other side of the hall.
If the newly created exit to the palace exterior shocked the guard captain, he didn't show it. "Yes, Your Majesty. We are fortunate that the perpetrator didn't know you were over here."
"He did," Talia stated coldly. "The bomb was right where we are standing."
"What?" Hateem spluttered. "How–? You are incredibly lucky, Highness."
"It wasn't luck, it was the Force. I'll be returning to my quarters now." She started back towards Canderous' room but stopped to look back at Hateem. "If you discover who did this, use whatever means necessary to find out how and why."
Hateem bowed and turned away into the new tunnel of scorched stone and splintered durasteel, pulling out a comlink as he went to call in additional searchers.
"We can be of service in finding any victims," Revan said. "I will go with Hateem."
"Thank you," Talia replied. "There are many more quarters in the vicinity of Canderous'. You saved many lives tonight."
"Your Majesty, the enemy has spies everywhere," Revan warned. "They will not be detectable by ordinary means. If you choose to aid us, this will not be the last attempt on your life."
"Let them try," Talia responded. The steel in her voice was a reminder – as were her deep brown skin and colored accent – that Talia was descended from the fearsome beast riders of Onderon's past. Courage would not be her shortcoming.
Canderous broke into a feral grin. "Can you see why I love this Mand'alor dala?" he crowed, before following her back towards the bedroom, carbine still at the ready. They disappeared together into a concealed passageway.
Revan turned to Aeryn, but she had already disappeared into the wreckage behind them. He followed her, praying to the Force that no one had been caught – yet again – in his collateral damage.
Author Notes:
Riduurok - love bond, specifically between spouses - marriage agreement.
Mand'alor dala - "sole ruler" + "woman." Best I could come up with from Mando'a that expresses how Canderous, aka Mandalore, sees her as his equal. Of course, he's going to be turned on by a strong woman. Just like almost every other male cast member. Huh. I might have a theme.