Miles to Go Before I Sleep

by ErgoMaria

Seven years ago Meetra Surik saved the Republic and lost a piece of herself. Six years ago Revan died and Meetra's soul died with him. Three years ago Revan was reborn. Meetra wasn't. Now Revan is missing and Meetra has been dragged back to life. But is she ready? Can Revan face a past he can't remember? (KOTOR AU - Meetra/Atton, MRevan/Carth) (Sequel to No Light without Shadows)

4. Chapter 03 - Dxun

CHAPTER 03 - DXUN

Now (3953)

"So, this is Dxun. Nice place, aside from the stifling humidity and the charming sounds of all of the animals in that jungle who probably want to eat us." Despite his grin, Atton looked distinctly ill at ease.

Meetra understood. Though the lush greenery of Dxun's landscape was breathtaking, the sheer vastness of it had always made her feel utterly vulnerable. It was strange to be surrounded by life and yet seem completely alone in the galaxy. "The beasts in this jungle can be aggressive, but we usually drove them off with a few blaster bolts. Most aren't too fond of loud noises." Laughing humorlessly, she added, "It's the sentients that you need to be wary of."

Atton arched a brow. "You've been here before?"

"During the war. It was the Mandalorian's stronghold and the place they retreated to after Revan routed them from deeper within Republic territory. We eventually took the battle to them, but…"

"The Republic took heavy casualties," Carth finished when Meetra was unable to. "I saw it firsthand."

Now it was Meetra's turn to look surprised. "You were here?"

"Close air support, mostly. I didn't get down to ground level until the very end, but that was still… Intense." A haunted expression passed through Carth's eyes.

"Well, on that cheerful note, where's your friend at, Captain?" Pointing at the foliage, Atton grumbled, "We should have no trouble finding them."

"I think I know where he's hiding. An ally in the Intelligence Division told me that there have been unusual amounts of activity on the old Mandalorian outpost."

"Wasn't that destroyed when the Republic took this moon?" Worry gnawed at Meetra as she frowned at the implication.

Carth shook his head. "No, the Republic didn't have the resources to do much more than cut power and perform a preliminary sweep for hidden weaponry. After Malachor, Dxun was abandoned but left fairly intact."

"But why would anyone hide here?" Atton made a sweeping gesture towards the dense jungle. "There are plenty of planets to get lost on, and a lot of them actually have working refreshers and functioning air scrubbers."

"Probably because he's a Mandalorian."

A shudder ran down Meetra's spine and she subconsciously touched the rifle on her back for reassurance. "What is it with Mandalorians and this moon?"

"It's home." Visas's silent approach had gone unnoticed by the others and they all jumped in surprise when she spoke. "This planet may be scarred by death, but there is a warmth to it that only comes from the hearts of those who have found a place where they belong."

Closing her eyes Meetra tentatively reached out her awareness, nearly drawing back the instant she encountered the same pervasive chill she had experienced during the war. It felt just like the Miraluka had described, ragged scars left by thousands of death. But she pressed past the cold fog of violence until she caught the faintest glimmer of something brighter, golden tendrils that were interwoven into the moon's very essence. She initially couldn't identify the sensation, but she eventually realized that it was the lingering warmth left by sentients who loved each other.

Turning to Visas, Meetra studied the other woman. "You're incredibly attuned to the Force. Atris should have been thrilled to have a student as talented as you."

"She rescued me from the ashes of my home and gave me a place to stay when I had nothing. She was under no obligation to provide me with anything else, nor did I view myself as worthy to ask more of her."

"Yeah, that sounds like a healthy outlook. Very fair to you," Atton remarked sarcastically.

"What is fair and what is right are not the same things. I do not seek fairness, not from one like Atris whose only obligation is what is right for the galaxy as a whole." Bowing her head, Visas murmured, "I apologize, I have become distracted. I came out to inform you that Bao-Dur is remaining on the ship to complete repairs, and Kreia has chosen to stay and meditate. However, she says that you know how to reach her if you require her assistance."

"Thank you, Visas. Are you staying here too?"

"I wish to join if you will allow it."

"I… I'm not your master. You're free to do what you want, but I will admit that someone who can see using the Force will be incredibly useful in a jungle this dense."

Stowing a datapad inside of his jacket, Carth glanced at the others. "Well, if this is everyone, we should head out."

Aside from some muttered curses from Atton their trek into Dxun's jungle was oddly silent, only punctuated by bird calls and the crunch of their boots through the vegetation. Though there were a few trails winding through the thick underbrush, most had become overgrown as the jungle reclaimed everything it touched. The heat and humidity were stifling, more so in a thick jacket and heavy pants rather than the looser robes of a Jedi. Even in armor, the weather hadn't felt this oppressive.

After they'd walked about a klick, Carth held up one hand and gestured for everyone to stop. While both Atton and Meetra immediately halted in place, their hands drifting towards their weapons, Visas didn't seem to notice the command until the captain added a sharp hiss through his teeth. She quickly fell still aside from tilting her head to the side to listen for any further cues.

"Is everything alright?" Meetra was already swinging her rifle into her hands.

"It's fine. But according to my coordinates, we're close to the encampment I'm looking for. We should be on alert."

It didn't take Carth's warning for Meetra to know that they were closing in on the former Mandalorian outpost. Despite the changes that had overtaken the jungle in the intervening years the landscape was still hauntingly familiar, certain trees and topographical features burned into her memory from hours spent dodging blaster bolts and charging through the muck. She also felt the familiarity of the landscape, a cold and primal fury that cut through the Force like a gale wind. She flexed her fingers as the sensation sunk beneath her skin, chilling her to the bone.

"Keep moving, but be careful. Once we get about two hundred meters north-northwest, we should stop and reassess."

Meetra nodded, shifting her rifle into her grasp as Atton drew his pistol. Carth remained unarmed though one hand hovered just beside his hip, ready to draw at least one blaster at a moment's notice. Only now realizing that Visas was apparently unarmed, Meetra moved closer to the other woman.

"If this turns ugly, you can at least duck, right?" She was mostly joking, but it came out more serious than intended.

"Atris trained me in ways to defend myself. I will not be a burden to you."

"That's not what I mea…"

The rest of Meetra's words died on her lips as the sharp snapping of a twig sounded just to their left, causing three of them to turn and raise their blasters. Only Visas turned in the opposite direction as she whispered, "There's only one in the direction that sound came from, but there are three more behind us and two flanking us on either side."

"Freeze! Drop your weapons!" The hum of multiple stealth field generators powering down temporarily drowned out the sounds of the jungle as eight armed and armored figures shimmered into existence. Visas was right about their positioning, which seemed to alarm at least one of them.

A Mandalorian in blue armor strode towards the Miraluka, grabbing her by the shoulder. "Hey, you! How did you spot us?"

"Get your hands off her!" Still holding her rifle despite being commanded to drop it, Meetra aimed the weapon at the individual threatening Visas. "Trust me when I say that you don't scare me."

"It's true." Atton also kept gripping his blaster. "She's probably killed enough Mandalorians that taking on eight more would be like a sparring session."

Jabbing the muzzle of a heavy repeating rifle into the brunette's shoulder, a Mandalorian in red armor sneered, "You're not a very bright one, are you? We have you surrounded, outgunned and outnumbered."

But Atton just scoffed. "We've had worse odds."

The click of multiple heavy rifles being aimed and readied sent an electric jolt of warning through Meetra's limbs, and she immediately froze. Removing one hand from her own blaster, she held it up placatingly. "If we drop our weapons, can we talk this out peaceably?"

"Sure." The blue-clad Mandalorian nodded as much as his armor would allow. A second later he dug his fingers into Visas's shoulder hard enough to draw a grunt of pain. "Just as soon as she explains how she saw us!"

"I said to get your kriffing hands off of her!" Meetra wasn't expecting the Force to infuse her body in a way that she hadn't felt in years, but the sensation was far from unwelcome. Drawing a breath she channeled the energy down her free arm, turning it into a shockingly powerful push that she sent directly at the blue-clad Mandalorian. He was immediately lifted off his feet as he soared through the air for over a meter, only stopping when he struck a nearby tree hard enough to splinter the bark before he landed splayed across the ground.

An approving hum echoed through Meetea's mind. 'The Force is coming back to you faster, I can feel it. The memories that this moon carries are awakening things deep within you. Do not fight it. This is who you are.'

"What the hells?!" The Mandalorian in the red armor immediately aimed his weapon at the blonde woman who had just thrown his companion through the air with a single wave of her arm. "You're kriffing Jedi?!"

"And what if we are?" Blaster still raised, Atton grinned dangerously.

"Kark this!" another Mandalorian in blue shouted. "I say we take 'em all out!"

"Or you can stand down! Yes, even you Kelborn!" A new figure wearing a different make of armor in a simple shade of burnished silver emerged from the underbrush. "You too, Jedi. Tell your friends to stow their weapons. Nobody needs to die today."

The other Mandalorians immediately lowered their rifles, each of them straightening slightly in the presence of this newcomer. Even the figure who was still sprawled beneath the tree managed to lift his head respectfully.

"Mand'alor, that one attacked Davrel…"

"I saw what happened!" The newcomer turned to face the red-armored figure. "Davrel didn't listen to my commands and tried to engage a member of her party. He got what he deserved and hopefully, he learned something about following orders!"

The Mandalorian who Meetra had thrown was slowly climbing to his feet. "I dishonored myself, Mand'alor."

"Yes, you did. But I think the Jedi taught you a better lesson than I ever could. Now, stand up and help escort these people back to the camp. I want to speak with them…"

Meetra was about to mention that she wasn't technically a Jedi, but the words died in her throat when someone else started shouting.

"Canderous kriffing Ordo, I thought that was you! We sure as hells are going to talk. Let's start with the fact that you kriffing let him go! You just let him take the Hawk and… Arrgh! I cannot believe you!" Carth's expression was pure rage as he charged up to the man that the others called Mand'alor. Drawing his hand back, he aimed a punch right for the armor-clad jaw.

"Wait, stop!" The Force was still surging through Meetra, though the sensation was growing familiar and she managed a bit more finesse as she wrapped her power around the captain and dragged him back about half a meter. This caused his swing to miss, his knuckles striking air instead of metal.

Carth barely seemed to notice. "You absolute bastard! You just let him leave!"

Seeming stunned at the turn of events, all of the Mandalorians stared silently for a long moment before Mand'alor let out a heavy sigh. "You will address me as Mandalore the Preserver…"

"Oh, don't pull rank on me, Canderous! Some new armor isn't going to make me respect you."

All attempts at formality seemed to evaporate. "The idiot who just tried to sucker-punch a fully armored Mandalorian wants to talk about respect?"

"Uh, so, are we shooting? Or are we just yelling?" Atton glanced at Meetra, who could only shrug in response.

It was another moment before a shorter Mandalorian in orange armor stepped between Carth and Mand'alor. A feminine voice filtered out of her helmet. "He told me that you have more fire than the average Republic officer. It seems that he was telling the truth."

Blinking in confusion, some of Carth's outrage cooled. "He who?"

"Vann. I spent some time with him when he assisted Clan Ordo almost two years ago." The orange-armored Mandalorian swung her rifle onto her back before gesturing for the others, including her leader, to follow. "Mandalore the Preserver invites you to come back to our outpost as guests. There are a number of things that we should discuss"

Meetra frowned at hearing one of Revan's aliases. "Your guests?"

"Don't question it," Atton whispered. "Just enjoy the fact that we're not being shot at."

Softly approaching Meetra's other side, Visas added, "They do not have the aura of enemies. I do not presume to tell you what to do, but I see no immediate threat."

"I trust what you see. And honestly, this is the first time I've been on this moon without a fight breaking out. So, I guess I can enjoy the novelty." Shouldering her own rifle in response to the increasingly odd situation, Meetra nodded to the orange-armored woman. "Please, lead the way."

Still glaring at Mand'alor, Carth just shook his head. "Yeah, fine. But this had better be good."

---

"Canderous should not have waited so long to give you that message."

Seated at a table inside of one of the many durasteel structures that composed the Mandalorian encampment, Meetra's gaze shifted silently between Carth and the orange-armored woman whose name was Veela. She had removed her helmet over an hour ago, and Meetra had been surprised the find that she was older than expected. The skin around her eyes and mouth was creased and weathered, and the bright shades of red and purple that highlighted her black hair mostly served to hide the profusion of white throughout her locks. But she carried herself like a much younger woman, her shoulders straight and her back never bending with fatigue.

Veela had already explained a few things, like the fact that she was Canderous's wife (always Canderous and never Mand'alor, as though this was an important distinction) and the fact that the couple had spent most of the past seven years apart. Apparently, Mandalorian tradition dictated roles for spouses, less reliant on sex or gender and more on temperament. One spouse was always expected to guard the home and guide those younger than themself if there were children to be cared for. In this case, it was Veela who opted to remain behind with Clan Ordo to raise the couple's errant daughter and to act as a leader, holding their extended family together after the war. Canderous had taken up the opposite role, traveling across the galaxy in search of better opportunities for those who remained behind.

Unfortunately, most of the opportunities he found were mercenary work, which he described as the equivalent of driving a nail into his skull. "Sure," he sneered, "You have something new. But what have you gained from the experience?"

But then he'd met Revan and everything had changed. Though the details were kept vague to honor traditions that Meetra didn't pretend to understand, it seemed that Canderous had taken up the mantle of Mand'alor because of something Vann did. The entire situation appeared to irk Veela, though she was clearly proud of her husband and obviously believed that he was the only choice to lead their people.

At least, she was proud of him until they reached the topic of this mysterious message. The more they spoke the more distressed Carth became, and Meetra was glad that the others had decided to wander around the encampment rather than listen to this particular discussion.

"It was almost two months before you gave me that kriffing holo. His trail had gone completely cold by then! Did you even watch it?"

"No, because I was ordered not to!"

"I did." All eyes turned to Veela. "I was afraid it was the coordinates to where the assembled clans were located or an order with instruction to attack." When her still-masked husband huffed indignantly, she merely shrugged. "I liked Vann the mercenary, but I don't trust Revan the Republic commander."

"Canderous, he thinks he's going off to die. He didn't come right out and say it, but I know what 'I can't make any promises like that' means." Carth looked stricken. "Vann doesn't think he's coming home, and if I had known just a little sooner…"

"Which is why I told Canderous to give you the message as soon as I viewed it." Reaching out a comforting hand, Veela patted the captain's forearm. "You deserved to know what your husband was planning."

"Oh, he's not my… We're not married." A bright blush spread across Carth's cheeks. "Stars, I can't even begin to imagine Vann agreeing to marry me."

Meetra actually choked a little at the thought.

But Veela shook her head. "You may not be married by your Republic's standards but by our traditions, Vann is your husband. You defend your home and your family together in the name of your leaders, and he has adopted your son and is tutoring the boy in the traditions of his people."

"That's just Force training…"

"How does it differ from how we train the young ones here? Do they not hone their skills with their elders? Do they not spar and discuss what they've learned?"

"Well, I mean…"

"Actually," Meetra interrupted, "It's not that different at all. A little less meditation on your part, but the general concept is the same." That thought struck her in unexpected ways. It was so easy to view the Mandalorians as monsters rather than people with families and teachers.

"Then Vann is your husband, and you deserved to know that he planned to die in battle. You should have been given the choice to bid him farewell or to be by his side in his quest." Veela crossed her arms over her chest, nodding sternly at her husband.

Mand'alor snorted at the idea, the sound modulated by his mask. "But I was under orders not to give that holo to Carth until at least a standard month had passed, and I was not about to defy them. You've met Vann and you've seen what he can do. That's not a man who I want to anger any time soon."

"You also broke his husband's heart."

"I'm, uh, probably intruding at this point." Meetra winced uncomfortably as she stood from the table. "I only stayed because I wanted to know more about what Revan was doing before he disappeared. The rest of this is none of my business and I should, er, I should go." Heading for the door amidst the others' objections, she ducked her head sheepishly and waved them off, only pausing to call out, "Carth, stay as long as you want. You know how to comm me if you need a ride somewhere else!"

The rush of humid air that greeted Meetra the moment she stepped outside almost convinced her to go back in. But the sheer awkwardness of the situation made her keep walking forward, even as she caught a few final threads of conversation.

"Carth, you know him. Can you honestly tell me that anyone in the whole Force-damn galaxy could have convinced him to stay once his mind was made up?"

Chuckling softly to herself, Meetra had to agree with Mand'alor on that point. Revan was one of the stubbornest people she'd ever met and convincing him to back down from a threat was nearly impossible, even for her and Alek. Brushing a few sweaty strands of hair from her forehead, she stretched her arms and began to stroll through the camp. They'd been given permission to explore provided they didn't harm anyone or get in the way. While the weather was less than enjoyable, it was still pleasant to be on Dxun without dodging blaster bolts and beskad.

A series of shouts and cheers drew Meetra's attention, and she followed the sound out of pure curiosity. Making her way past a warehouse and a dormitory, she discovered that the source of the noise was a small ring of dirt dug into the ground, around which several Mandalorians were gathered. Within the circle two figures appearing to be sparing with dual-bladed vibroswords, though the session looked unusually intense. One individual was wearing traditional Mandalorian armor, the metal painted yellow, while the other was…

"Atton?!" Meetra's jaw dropped in shock and she hurried towards the group, shoving two Mandalorians out of the way before a third grabbed her shoulder.

"Your friend volunteered to enter the Battle Circle and he's abiding by the rules. You need to do the same and let him fight without interfering. Don't worry, the blades are dulled and nobody ever dies in there."

Frowning at the individual who she recognized as Kelborn, Meetra demanded, "And how is an armored Mandalorian against an unarmored spacer honorable by your standards?"

"You seem to forget that Revan, a man in Jedi robes, beat Mandalore the Ultimate. And this isn't about who can inflict the most bruises. There's a point system. The first to four hits wins, and your friend is already up two to one."

Arching a brow Meetra nodded, stepping back as she turned to watch the match. It actually did sound fair, though the rules were the last thing on her mind when she took a moment to study the scene and realized how good Atton looked. He had stripped off his jacket and shirt, which were laying in the grass beside the ring, and was down to a tank top that revealed the surprising strength of his arms. While he wasn't as broad as Carth, his muscles were lean and toned, flexing smoothly beneath his skin with every movement he made. While the Mandalorian attacked with raw power, Atton flowed with natural grace. Twirling the blade between his hands, he dove low and sliced past his opponent's guard, striking the Mandalorian hard in the side before drawing back and twisting out of range in one elegant motion.

"Three to one!" Kelborn shouted.

Another pivot and Atton blocked an incoming slash, easily deflecting it with the bottom blade before leaping into the air and driving the top blade downward, chopping into the head and chest of the Mandalorian's armor. The individual grunted and stumbled back, one foot slipping in the dirt as they struggle to remain upright.

"Four to one, the challenger wins!" With an approving nod, Kelborn turned to Meetra. "Your friend has some real talent. Though I suppose you Jedi train just as hard as we do. But it's good to see that you're willing to spar with honor."

"He's not a Jedi…" Meetra stuttered, even as she mentally admitted that she'd rarely seen that type of grace outside of the Order.

Wiping his forehead on the back of his hand, Atton trotted up with a smirk. "You look surprised."

"All you told me back on Peragus was that you could shoot and fly a ship!"

"It's not like I had time to give you my entire resume."

"Where did you even learn to fight like that?"

"Oh, here and there. You'd been amazed how many Echani mercenaries hang out in sleazy cantinas. A lot of them will teach you a move or two if you buy them enough drinks."

"That wasn't Echani martial arts."

"No, I was using a blade so it was technically Echani dueling, but I can see how you'd get the two confused." Atton leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of Meetra's ear as he whispered, "It's alright to say that you're impressed."

A fierce blush colored Meetra's cheeks as she admitted, "I was actually very impressed." Reaching down, she retrieved the discarded shirt and shoved it at his chest. "Now stop playing around and get dressed!"

Tossing his shirt back to the ground, Atton stretched playfully, rolling his shoulders. "It's hot here! And besides, I kind of like it when you stare at me. Is it safe to say that you like what you see?"

"It is." Meetra couldn't hide her smile. "And I wouldn't mind staring just a little longer. But I speak from experience when I say that the insects here are going to eat you alive if you don't cover up."

She never saw a person get dressed that quickly. Laughing a little as Atton batted away some type of biting fly that was already attacking his neck, Meetra turned her attention to locating Visas. Her first instinct was to ask around the camp, but a voice in the back of her mind tutted disapprovingly at the idea.

'She is connected to the Force. You know how to find such an individual without needing to question those around you. Reach out. Feel.'

It still felt strange for Meetra to extend her awareness after living so many years blind to the Force, but the sensation was still wonderful. Her mind sped through the encampment like a breeze, swiftly moving past all of the Force-blind Mandalorians until she felt a brighter spark shining near the entrance. Jerking her head towards Atton as an indication to follow, she gradually made her way there, pausing a few times to admire the resourcefulness of whoever constructed the buildings.

Visas was standing near the main gate, speaking with a Mandalorian in blue armor who seemed to be questioning her intently.

"Hey there," Meetra called. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes. I have not made a nuisance of myself nor have I broken any of the rules we were given upon arrival."

Shaking her head, Meetra carefully placed herself between Visas and the Mandalorian. "I wasn't asking about that."

"I'm not bothering this one if that's what you're worried about." The Mandalorian held up his hands peaceably. "Davrel mentioned that she could somehow see through our stealth fields, and I was curious if she'd be willing to test some prototypes. See if there was anything that could get past those eyes of hers."

Visas must have sensed her companion's continued suspicion because she quickly bowed her head and explained, "He has not harmed me. If anything, this felt more akin to a game I used to play as a child. It was… Refreshing."

"Oh. Well, I'm glad that everyone found something to occupy their time while we're here." Forcing a smile, Meeta felt a pang of guilt for immediately assuming the worst of the Mandalorians. "If you want to keep helping, er…"

"Zuka," the Mandalorian offered.

"I believe we are done here if you wish to return to the ship and resume your business. I have done what I can to assist…" Visas trailed off, her head jerking upward like a kath hound who had caught a scent. The corners of her mouth tugged into a faint frown as she breathed, "Do you sense that?"

'Yes, do you?'

It took an extra second for the chill to pass through Meetra's body, stealing the breath from her lungs and forcing her to take a step back to steady herself. She placed a hand over her chest as she inhaled harshly. The sensation was similar to what she had experienced in the presence of Sion back on Peragus, but that had felt more like a bolt of electricity straight down her spine and into her gut. This was like being immersed in dark energy until she was drowning.

"Hey, are you okay?" Atton looked worried.

Meetra swallowed hard. "I'm fine, but there's something incoming. Sith, I think. A whole group of them."

Dropping the tools that he was holding, Zuka touched the commlink integrated into his armor. "Are you sure about that?"

"If they're not Sith, they're still dangerous."

As though to confirm Meetra's statement, the shriek of blaster erupted from deeper within the camp. It was joined by a cacophony of shouted orders combined with the cold clang of vibroblades striking heavy armor. Already calling for backup, Zuka rushed towards the source of the commotion and waved for the others to follow.

"If you're going to stay in this camp, you're going to help defend it!" he warned. "So fight ferociously and if you die, take as many of the bastards as you can with you!"

Racing towards the weapons and ammunition depot, Meetra called, "If these are Sith, blasters might not do much good. If you have a few extra blades at least two of us can use them. As for Visas…"

The Miraluka had already drawn an item from the billowing sleeve of her dress. At first, it appeared to be a simple metal rod but with a flick of her wrist, it extended into a slender quarterstaff. "I will not be a burden during this fight."

"Well, that's new." Atton took a moment to gawk at the blind woman, though he shook it off as Meetra dashed into the storage building, shouting for Kex the quartermaster to give her something with a blade.

It was a few long seconds before she returned, a vibrosword in one hand and a dual-bladed weapon in the other. Tossing the latter to Atton she called out, "Alright, time to impress me again!"

It didn't take long to identify the source of the attack, the black-robed figures a stark contrast to the green foliage and the Mandalorians in their painted armor. Within the Force they were even more obvious, each of them exuding waves of cold, dark energy. Without waiting for further instructions Meetra charged at the nearest Sith, swinging the vibroblade at their shoulder while silently hoping that they weren't armed with a lightsaber that she somehow failed to notice. But her attack was met with a similar blade, slimmer and longer than the one she was wielding yet handled with less finesse.

Parrying two strikes in quick succession, Meetra kicked out and knocked her opponent back with a hard heel to the gut. Leaping to the side, she delivered a slash to their back, warm blood spraying across her knuckles as she carved into flesh. It was a strange sensation, something that never happened when wielding a lightsaber. Driving the pommel of her sword into the back of the Sith's neck she knocked them to the ground before stabbing the point into their spine. The weight of the weapon was different than what she was used to, but the motions were mostly the same and it was easy to fall into the rhythm of a melee fight.

Whirling around, Meetra spotted her allies admirably holding their own. Atton was grinning wildly as he danced around his less skilled opponent, using his longer weapon to trip them before slashing the blade through their stomach. More surprising was Visas, who wielded her staff with remarkable precision. She never overtly attacked, preferring to deflect all of her adversary's blows back on them, using their own momentum to her advantage in near perfect use of Djem So. Turning back to her own fight Meetra targeted another Sith, lunging at them with a shout as she used the Force to turn a simple jump into a powerful, soaring chop.

The Sith stumbled backward as the blade came down hard on their arm, blood flowing from the wound as they dropped their own weapon. However, the movement brought them closer to the heart of the battle, and one of their black-clad allies immediately flanked them and sized Meetra up. Hatred poured out of the second individual, a cold strength that infused their body.

"Meetra, at your six! Dodge and roll!"

Trained to not question her allies in battle, she immediately fell into a defensive position before diving off to the side, tucking her head neatly as she tumbled across the ground. A moment later she popped back onto her feet just as a blast shook the area, the grenade taking out both of the Sith she had just been facing. Glancing over her shoulder, Meetra spotted Mand'alor stalking across the battlefield, a huge repeating blaster held in one hand and a grenade clutched in the other. Veela was at his side, her helmet back in place, while Carth covered his back with both pistols.

"Where the hells did these kriffing bastards come from?" the Mandalorian leader demanded.

"No clue, sir!" Kelborn called as he fired several rounds into another Sith, some of the bolts deflected with the Force, but a few finding their mark. "They appeared in the middle of the outpost using some type of camouflage. But none of them seem to be wearing stealth field generators."

"They used the Force!" Her brow furrowing in concern, Meetra reached out her awareness until it spread not just through the outpost but into the jungle beyond. Her entire body tensed when she felt another crashing wave of dark energy moving directly towards the encampment. "And there's more coming!"

A Mandalorian in yellow armor shouted as they were struck by a powerful Force push that sent them directly into the vibroblade of a waiting Sith. Another warrior, this one wearing blue, grunted and then fell silent as they were rammed into the side of a building hard enough to dent the durasteel. Drawing a slow breath, Meetra watched as the dark Force users began to summon their powers to turn the tides of the battle.

'They are not the only ones who can do so. You may not be able to guide everyone on the battlefield, but you can strengthen your allies.'

Nodding to Kreia despite the fact that the older woman was kilometers away, Meetra swept her gaze across the encampment, noting her companion's locations as she extended her consciousness. Their individual presences glowed within the Force and she wrapped each one in a thread of her own power, linking their minds to her own so that their bodies could flow in unison. The sensation was much like what happened on Telos but on a larger scale, encompassing not just Atton, Carth, and Visas, but any Mandalorian whom she knew well enough to locate within the chaos. For an instant she could feel them all, their heartbeats practically syncing with her own as she enabled them to achieve accuracy and reaction times that would be otherwise impossible.

Carth and Veela shifted their positions just enough to cover not just Mand'alor's blind spots but also each other's, and all three fired in such perfect unison that there was never a pause in coverage when someone shifted targets or reloaded their ammunition. At the same time, Atton and Visas began to flow around each other. Both of them were able to benefit from the longer reach of their weapons as they struck just over each other's shoulders or behind the other's back, all without ever touching. Feeling her own mind slip into the same synchronicity Meetra threw herself back into battle, easily diving just beneath her allies' blaster bolts before coming up behind a surprised Sith who wasn't expecting her to move quite so fast. She struck with two clean slashes that carved into their abdomen, knocking them to the ground with a wet gurgle.

There were other Mandalorians, like Kex and Kelborn, whose shots found an almost perfect rhythm, each one instinctively covering for the other so that there was never a lull in their shooting or an opening for the enemy to exploit. The combined effect of everyone under Meetra's influence was staggering, most of their shots and slashes finding vital organs with little effort. The Sith were dropping faster now, but the frigid current moving through the Force only intensified as a new wave of dark figures swarmed in.

"This is good, but we need more!" Mand'alor called, just as the air began to crackle and taste like ozone.

Carth winced in recognition. "Oh no."

The lightning was weak but it was still enough to knock a trio of Mandalorians to the ground. Two of them didn't get up. Frowning in frustration, Meetra used the Force to throw the Sith who had produced the electricity into the nearest tree. They crashed into several branches before sliding limply down the trunk. But that didn't stop more lightning from sizzling through the air as another dark-robed figure attacked two more Mandalorians, halting them in place as they twitched and yelled uncontrollably.

Despite her efforts, Meetra could tell they were losing this battle. The disappointment and frustration roiled coldly in her gut, feeding the void that gaped within her very soul. She knew this feeling, or at least some variation of it, having experienced it dozens of times during the war.

And just like then, she fueled herself with the emotion. Exhaling sharply, she called upon the festering emptiness, abandoning herself to the anger that she felt at seeing these Sith overrun the encampment. Drawing a deep breath, she threw her head back and screamed.

The sound pierced the air, traveling across the outpost in a wail that carried all of the rage that Meetra could force out of her body. She noticed a few Mandalorians ducking down and covering their helmets at the sound, but they were collateral damage. The Sith were her true target and they all seemed to be affected by the noise. Many of them yelped as they fell to their knees, their fingers clawing at their hoods and balaclavas as they tried to block the wail that shredded their minds. Tightening her mental connection to her allies Meetra rushed forward, driving her blade into the back of the nearest collapsed Sith.

The hum of a lightsaber sent her heart into her throat and she nearly screamed again, this time in resentment at the fact that these Sith somehow kept gaining the upper hand. But as she looked around for the source of the noise she noticed a pair of familiar blue blades that she had sparred with dozens of times before. The man who wielded them was leaping through the air with ease, his brown robes flowing around him as he cut down two enemies with a sweep of his main lightsaber and then a stab from his shoto blade.

"Kavar!" Meetra cried happily, delight glowing within her when she recognized the Master. She had expected to feel conflicted when she saw him for the first time since her expulsion from the Order, but the last-minute rescue certainly helped to endear him.

The Guardian looked up for an instant before returning to the battle, augmenting his already formidable skills with speed and strength from the Force. He was little more than a blur as he moved between the Sith, cutting them down before they noticed that he had changed positions. At this point, several Mandalorians had lowered their blasters and were watching their strange savior, all while radiating unrestrained suspicion.

Unwilling to be rescued like some holodrama damsel, Meetra looped around the encampment so that she could flank Kavar, drawing the others towards her through their mental link. They moved as a single unit, those with blasters providing suppressive fire as those wielding melee weapons struck down anyone who threatened to sneak up on the Jedi Master or exploit his blind spots. While he probably noticed the assistance, he didn't acknowledge it until Meetra's allies were all surrounding him in a wide defensive ring, a well-aimed shot from Mand'alor taking down a Sith who was attempting to backstab the Jedi.

The roar of the battle was beginning to die down, a triumphant cheer already spreading through the Mandalorian encampment. When the sound reached her ears, Meetra grinned and released the threads that were linking her to the others. The power receded just as Kevar turned to them, one brow arched in surprise.

"Thank you for the assistance. I didn't expect…" The rest of the Master's words died on his tongue as he looked past Visas and the numerous armored Mandalorians, finally noticing Meetra who was nearly lost among the larger figures.

"Master Kevar, I thought you were on Onderon."

"Meetra Surik! I… I apologize. I didn't realize it was you." A disturbed grimace flitted over his face, though his expression settled into one of neutrality. "I'm not used to your… To how you feel within the Force.

Wincing at the implication, she glanced away even as Kreia's voice murmured, 'Do not be ashamed, he merely senses your potential. He recognizes what you are capable of now that your eyes are finally open.'

"It's alright, Master." Meetra lifted her head and offered him a gentle half-shrug. "Despite the situation, it's good to see you again. Excellent timing, as always." Stepping forward, she gestured to the rest of her companions. "These are my… They're my allies. They've been helping me."

Carth rolled his eyes at that description. "Are we helping you, or are you just collecting us?"

"I'm more curious as to why a Jedi assisted us. Especially a famed Guardian. Hells, for a time we thought that we'd be facing you and not Revan." Stepping forward, Mand'alor forced himself into the Master's space. While his armor was understated, especially compared to the intricate and intimidating design of Mandalore the Ultimate's garb, it still emphasized his superior height and strength.

"Master Kavar, this is Mandalore the Preserver and Veela, his… most trusted warrior. The man who stands like a soldier is Carth, and the woman who puts my own Djem So to shame is Visas. And… Huh?" Meetra's brow furrowed in confusion when she noticed that Atton wasn't with the others. It took her another moment to realize that she had subconsciously slipped back into the role of a Consular making carefully worded introductions between potentially hostile parties.

Nodding towards the edges of the camp, Veela replied, "If you're looking for the dark-haired kid, I saw him go to perform a sweep around the perimeter once you dropped… whatever it was that you were doing. He seemed twitchy when the plasma swords came out."

"Whatever you did was impressive," Mand'alor grunted approvingly. "Was that Battle Meditation?"

Kavar's brow arched in obvious surprise that someone outside of the Order knew the term. "Technically it's a form of the power, though it's not quite the same as what someone like Bastila Shan is capable of." He said the name pointedly and was rewarded with a faintly knowing nod from the Mandalorian leader.

"I was actually more impressed by the scream," Carth noted with a chuckle.

The Jedi's expression darkened. "Knowing the company that you keep, this doesn't surprise me."

"Master Kavar," Meetra interrupted before the conversation could become more antagonistic. "You never did explain why you came to our rescue."

"I'll be honest with both you and to the new Mandalore, I came to Onderon because I sensed something dark here on Dxun. I originally believed it was the Mandalorians, plotting to return to their campaign of sacking worlds and slaughtering innocents."

Looming beside the Jedi, Mand'alor stated, "Then let me settle this for you. I'm here to gather my lost people and to help them preserve our traditions and ways of life."

Kavar remained unimpressed. "Like sacking and slaughtering?"

Flanking her husband, Veela sneered, "Don't try our patience, Jedi."

"I've been in this camp almost the whole day and I haven't felt anything threatening. At least until those Sith arrived." It was so easy for Meetra to play the part of the Consular, brokering peace even when she barely remembered what serenity felt like.

"As much as I'm less than pleased to see a new Mandalore gathering his people, I must admit that this encampment is not the source of the dark presence I was sensing. My research back on Iziz revealed that there's a Sith tomb on this moon, and it seems that it's attracting individuals like the ones we just battled."

Mand'alor hummed thoughtfully. "Is that what those old ruins are? We always knew there was some type of tomb here, but we were never sure who or what was buried there. It was all built and destroyed long before we settled on Dxun."

"Yes, I believe it's the tomb of Freedon Nadd."

"One of the few Sith Lords not buried on Korriban."

Turning to Meetra, Kavar narrowed his eyes. "Indeed. I'm surprised you know that."

She didn't flinch as she responded, "Revan taught me."

"So, there's a Sith tomb that's attracting more Sith? Great." Carth sighed heavily. "Are these still escaped followers of Malak?"

"A few perhaps, but a lot of them seem young and inexperienced. It appears that a new group of Sith leaders is recruiting fresh disciples of the dark side. I was actually on my way to investigate the situation when I sensed the attack on this outpost."

"Even a Master Jedi shouldn't investigate a Sith tomb alone," Meetra protested, trying to keep her features placid even as a spark of hope flared within her. Revan believed that a Sith is the cause of the Jedi disappearances. Could this be connected? "Allow us to help you."

"That's not necessary."

"Then let us investigate for you. The Sith are going to notice the presence of a Jedi almost immediately and they'll attack before you can learn anything useful. But someone like Carth or Veela is less likely to attract attention. The rest of my crew is also better suited for this. Visas is able to see things that would go unnoticed by you or me, and I have a talented mechanic along with a woman who probably has more life experience than the rest of us combined."

"Meetra…" Kavar's tone softened, some of his old affection swirling around him. "It's not that I don't trust you. This is simply a task that should be performed by a Jedi and as much as it pains me to say this, you're no longer part of the Order."

She jerked her chin up defiantly, her voice never wavering. "No, this is a task that a Jedi wants to perform, but that would be better carried out by someone else. There's a difference between what is good for the individual and what is good for the many. And the Jedi are tasked with serving the needs of the galaxy before their own desires."

"Spoken like a true Consular." Amusement colored Kavar's voice, and he smiled as he finally nodded in agreement. "Alright, I won't let my arrogance get in the way. But if I let you and your crew go in, you have to report anything that you uncover. You can't steal artifacts for yourself or withhold critical information. If you do and the Council finds out, I can't protect you."

"I'm a murder, Master Kavar. Not a thief."

The words sliced through the Jedi better than any lightsaber. "Fine. Gather your crew and meet me at the tomb tomorrow morning. I can provide a distraction so that you can sneak in without much trouble. Bring your mechanic, because I'm sure there will be traps."

"We'll see you then, Master." Meetra bowed deeply, mostly out of habit, before gesturing for the others to follow her so that they could formulate a plan. As she walked a murmur of approval sung through her mind.

'Clever, very clever. You used his Jedi principles against him to achieve your own goals, and now you'll be able to investigate the tomb. Keep your eyes open, child, for this journey might illuminate Revan's path.'

---

"I have to admit, General, this is a bit more than I was expecting." Bao-Dur was pressed against a wall, looking unusually lonely without his remote which he had left on the ship so that he could move more stealthily.

"Honestly? This is a bit more than any of us were expecting." Meetra frowned as she peeked around a corner and spotted multiple Sith troopers and dark Force users guarding the entrance to the tomb. The group had already snuck past several lookouts along the winding path leading up to the structure, the task made surprisingly easy thanks to the Zabrak's clever sabotage of the Sith's security sensor array.

But the reprogrammed sensors, which were still sending out false alarms that activated a series of turrets which were keeping the entire camp in disarray, weren't going to get them past these final guards. A quick visual sweep counted four visible troopers flanked by two more individuals in black robes and balaclavas, but Meetra could sense at least one more individual lingering in the shadows. Worse, the walkway they were guarding was also lined with a series of mines that forced anyone approaching to remain on a narrow and very visible path. Cursing softly under her breath, she wished yet again that Atton had agreed to come on this expedition. But he'd firmly insisted on staying with the ship to avoid Kavar.

"Sorry for disappearing back there, but I've had some bad experiences with Jedi," he had admitted as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "And as much as I'd love to explore some undoubtedly horrifying ruins with you, I'd kind of like to avoid running into your friend again."

"You mean Master Kavar? Don't worry about him, he would never…"

Atton's expression darkened. "Don't finish that sentence. You should know better than anyone else that a Jedi is capable of anything."

Shutting her mouth so hard that her teeth clicked, Meetra tried to bite back her injured feelings. "Alright, fine. I get it."

"No! I didn't mean it like that… Aw kriff! Look, I had some bad run-ins with the Jedi during the war, okay?" Noting the suspicious glance that he was receiving, Atton hurriedly added, "Don't worry, I was on your side. It's just that some of the Revanchists… they really started to scare me."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Maybe someday, but not right now. Besides, don't you have a creepy tomb to go loot?"

In the end, Meetra had chuckled softly before walking away, only pausing to give Atton a soft pat on his arm as she left the Ebon Hawk's main hold. What she had really wanted to do was to wrap her arms around his shoulders and draw him close, maybe while pressing a soft kiss to his cheek and then his lips before whispering that she was sorry that everything had gone so wrong for him. She could have explained that during the war, surrounded by blood and death, it was so easy to lose your grasp on the light. That the only way to prevent yourself from feeling all of the pain around you was to feel nothing at all, to harden yourself to suffering until the destruction of a city, or a continent, or a planet became an acceptable loss.

She had said none of those things, but she did let Atton stay on the ship along with Carth, who wanted to use the comm unit to contact some allies for more information about the potential Sith threat. With Mand'alor opting to remain at his outpost to oversee repairs, the group heading into the tomb was a bit smaller than expected. At least there was still a small scouting party of Mandalorians joining them, led by Veela.

"Now might be a good time for the Jedi to create a distraction," the Mandalorian hissed quietly into her comm.

"Master Kavar?"

"Hmm, I guess I'm up," the Jedi whispered in response, the hum of his lightsabers audible through the small speaker. "I admit, I never imagined that I'd be helping a group of Mandalorians sneak into a Sith tomb. The Force does have a sense of humor…"

A moment later, two of the Sith troopers let out a yell as the glowing blade of a blue shoto 'saber came whirling through the air. One of them ducked in time, but the second took a hit right to the chest that burned straight through their armor. Kavar appeared as the weapon twirled back to him, catching the hilt before flipping forward and kicking another trooper to the ground. The remaining troopers opened fire just as the pair of dark Force users turned towards him, both drawing vibroblades as they advanced. The Jedi slowly backed up as his adversaries raced closer, drawing the guards away from the tomb entrance.

"Now's our chance!" Meetra announced, already rushing around the corner. "Bao-Dur, any advice about those mines?"

"Yes, don't step on them!"

The group sprinted past two of the troopers before they were noticed, and it took even longer before the blaster bolts started to fly. Glancing over her shoulder, Meetra noted that Kreia and Visas were close behind, while the Mandalorians were already providing cover from the rear with their own repeating rifles. Ducking into an alcove, she waved the others forward. While the rest of her crew soon joined her, Veela's team continued to march straight ahead.

"Keep moving," the Mandalorian ordered as she pulled a grenade from her belt. "We'll hold these kath hounds back!"

"You'll meet us inside?"

"No, but we'll guard the entrance." Veela's voice was barely audible over an explosive boom. "The inside of a Sith tomb is your business."

Kreia dug a sharp finger into Meetra's shoulder, prodding the other woman forward. "It's better this way. Go, take advantage of their foolish superstition and pride."

The rest of the brief sprint was a cacophony of sound, Kavar's lightsabers still humming comfortingly somewhere in the distance while the Mandalorians continued to blast away anyone who didn't chase the Jedi. It seemed like the crew was going to make it into the tomb unimpeded, at least until Visas gasped and pulled to a halt.

"Be cautious, there's someone behind that pillar."

But Meetra was too far ahead of the Miraluka to hear the advice and her own awareness only sent her a tingle of warning just as a black-robed figure slipped out from the shadows. A dual-bladed vibroblade glinted dangerously in their hands and they twirled it with far more precision than the previous Sith had shown. Meetra immediately skidded backward, slinging her rifle off of her back and lining up a shot in one fluid motion. But before her finger could tap the trigger the dark Force user froze in place, their limbs tensing and twitching. They took one clumsy step forward before collapsing to the ground, revealing Bao-Dur standing behind them with his mechanical arm raised.

"I told you General, this thing can give a nasty shock if you're not careful."

"Thanks for the save." Still clutching her rifle, Meetra nodded to Visas. "Anyone else we should be aware of?"

"Yes. I see at least two figures guarding this tomb just beyond the entryway."

"Good to know." Raising her rifle, Meetra crouched down as she slunk towards the towering stone doorway. The others followed in her wake, Bao-Dur close behind and Kreia covering the rear of their little group.

They were rushed by two dark Force users the moment they stepped foot in the tomb, though their assailants clearly weren't expecting four combatants who actually knew how to fight. Visas and Kreia took out one trooper, the older woman freezing the black-robed figures in place as the Miraluka used her to staff to knock them unconscious. Meetra and Bao-Dur incapacitated the other just as quickly, rifle fire providing enough cover for the Zabrak to slam his prosthetic into the hooded face.

The rest of the assailants that appeared from the various alcoves built into the long entrance corridor were dealt with in a similar fashion, Meetra and Kreia providing support from a distance as Bao-Dur and Visas rushed into melee range to finish off anyone who wasn't rendered unconscious by the Force or overwhelmed by the rounds of blaster fire. It was a remarkably effective strategy, though Meetra only realized that she was binding their minds together when they reached the end of the hall and her power receded.

"Oh, I didn't mean to…"

"Don't apologize," Kreia scolded. "Your talents are coming more naturally to you as your connection to the Force returns."

The sound of multiple footsteps echoed from far up ahead, though the individuals were swiftly drawing closer. Meetra shifted to press her back against the nearest wall. "I think they know we're here. Visas, the path splits a few meters up. Can you see if either way clear?"

"The left pathway is clear, though I also see a strange energy in the adjoining room."

"Right now, I'd rather face some strange energy than any more of those troopers, General." Bao-Dur was panting hard and he wiped his brow with his organic hand.

"Then let's head to the left."

All four of them turned and slipped down the indicated hallway, Meetra and Kreia at the head of the group while the others trailed behind by about a meter. Their close proximity was fortunate, as less than a second after they entered the ancient room a rough grinding sound filled the air as the heavy stone door began to swiftly shut behind them.

"No! Bao-Dur, can you stop that?"

"Not this quickly!" The Zabrak's eyes scanned the room. "But there's a pretty big computer I might be able to…"

The rest of his words were silenced by the door slamming closed.

"Damn! I hope we're not stuck in here."

"Hmm." Kreia seemed unworried as she strolled towards the ancient console in the center of the room, the dark metal surface radiating waves of cold power that quietly offered a wealth of hidden secrets. "The Sith move through this tomb without hindrance. How? Surely they are no wiser or more talented than a war hero feared by the Mandalorians."

"That doesn't mean that I'm…" Unsure how to handle the compliment, Meetra pushed it aside with a sigh. "Hey Bao-Dur, can you take a look at that computer? Maybe it controls the door."

"Of course. I just need a moment, General. I apologize, but this place is giving me a bit of a headache."

"I thought it was only me." Visas slumped slightly. "My sight is odd here. I feel as though I'm blind within this room, but only because the energy that flows here overwhelms my senses. The longer I look, the more my thoughts pain me."

"Is it only your heads that hurt? Does anything else feel wrong?" Sniffing the air, Meetra frowned. "I hope there's no poison in here, I know that I'm less sensitive to that sort of thing."

"Honestly General? I also feel unusually cold. I admit that I'm from a warm planet, so a lot of places feel pretty chilly." A shiver passed through Bao-Dur. "But I've never felt cold like this before."

Visas nodded. "It's the same creeping coldness that I felt back on Telos."

"Leave them be, you can diagnose them later." Kreia was already typing commands into the computer. "Right now there is much more important information to be gleaned from this place."

"But there might be something really wrong." Searching her immediate vicinity, Meetra toed over a few rotting baskets and pieces of broken pottery as she looked the source of her companions' discomfort. "What's even stranger is that I'm not feeling anything unusual."

"Aren't you?"

"Well, the Force is much stronger here than anything else I've felt on this moon, and I've spent a lot more time on Dxun than any non-Mandalorian should. It's not really surprising, but this tomb is extremely strong with the dark side. So, I suppose it does feel unusually cold in here… Wait. Bao-Dur and Visas, can you come over here and touch this console? Tell me what you feel."

The Zabrak shuddered the instant his flesh palm pressed against the ancient metal. "Oh, that's not very pleasant General. I've only met a few machines that I didn't like and this definitely makes the list."

"I feel the same sensation that swept over Kataar before it was destroyed." Visas's head was bowed, her tone somber.

"Oh! It's not a headache, you're feeling the way that the Force flows through this Sith artifact."

"Yes," Kreia waved the revelation aside. "The dark side energy must be strong enough that even those blind to the Force sense its presence."

"But we already know that Visas isn't Force-blind. Bao-Dur though…" Meetra turned to the Zabrak. "Has anything like this ever happened to you before?"

"Oh, once or twice." When he received a surprised gasp, he laughed it off. "Don't look at me like that, General, it's not like this came up during our battlefield conversations. There have been a few times in my life that I've experienced strange sensations before something dangerous happened, usually a tingle on the back of my neck. And sometimes tools float into my hand from across the workbench, though I always assumed that was some sort of magnetic property. Either way, it's nothing impressive, especially compared to what a real Jedi like you can do."

Meetra gasped. "…You're Force-sensitive! You should have told me before."

"I couldn't! Especially considering that I had no idea that's what I was experiencing until this very moment."

"You both could have been trained as Jedi if the Order found you sooner." Shaking her head, Meetra clenched one fist as frustration welled up within her. Even if she brought her companions to Kavar, the Council would never approve their training. Despite their obvious strength, the Jedi would automatically declare that they were too old to be taught as the tragedy and loss they'd experienced made them too susceptible to falling. Yet, with the Order in peril, this policy felt like a mistake. But perhaps there was an alternate solution. "Hells, both of you can still be trained! I'll do it myself. Kriff whatever the Council says, they don't have to know. We'll talk more about this once we're back on the ship, alright? For now, let's see what's on this computer so that we can get out of this room."

While both Bao-Dur and Visas appeared relieved to change the subject, a warm tingle of appreciation bloomed brightly around both of them, the emotion even more obvious amid the darkness filling the tomb. It sent a burst of happiness through Meetra, helping her to focus as she began to sort through the various files stored on the computer. Luckily, none of them were encrypted and it was easy to discover that the data was actually quite recent. It seemed that all of the ancient recordings had been lost to time, the system repurposed to hold newer records of the Sith's discoveries within the tomb. Retrieving her datapad, she connected it to the system and began downloading the information.

Kreia tutted. "Are you truly going to hand that information over to the Jedi?"

"I told Kavar I would, and I intend to keep my word. Despite our differences, he's an old friend." Meetra grinned mischievously. "Of course, that doesn't mean I'm not keeping a copy for myself. He said not to steal any artifacts, and all of the data I'm collecting is new information."

The Force bond shimmered with approval. "Clever."

By the time Meetra had collected all of the important information from the Sith's computer, Bao-Dur had recovered enough to rewire the door panel. "It should open once I tap these wires together. Just let me know when you're ready to leave."

"I'm ready," she replied, now grasping her rifle. "But we should keep exploring. I sense something else deeper inside of the tomb."

There was a gauntlet of troopers guarding the corridors leading further from the entrance, some of them with trained beasts captured from the nearby jungle. This made reaching the inner burial chamber a challenge. Bao-Dur was still clutching a bite wound on his thigh as the group fought the last of the guards, Visas's staff a blur as it whipped through the air in tandem with the hail of blaster bolts that Meetra laid down as cover. However, it was Kreia who defeated the final trooper with a wave of her arm, sending the individual flying two meters through the air before they collided with a stone pillar. The sharp crack of bone was only punctuated by a single moan as they slumped to the ground.

Rushing to administer a stimpack to Bao-Dur's injury, Meetra almost didn't notice when Visas paused, her eyeless gaze focused on the room just ahead. "I see three beings within, all consumed by darkness."

"They must be what I sensed earlier."

"Oh yes, there is power in that room," Kreia agreed. "Though no more than what you possess. But perhaps there are still lessons to be learned from those who dwell within."

"Information… about Revan? Do you think these Sith have answers?"

"Perhaps. Or perhaps what they know will only lead to more questions. You must confront these Sith to discover your own truth."

"Right." Despite nodding in understanding, Meetra wasn't sure she understood the older woman's riddle. Still, if entering the burial chamber could provide her with information about Revan's quest or the decline of the Jedi, it was a chance that she had to take.

"Depending on who's waiting for us, that rifle might not be too useful, General." Gesturing to the blade sheathed at her hip, Bao-Dur added, "Your sword has a cortosis plating."

"Oh." It still felt wrong for Meetra to swing the blaster onto her back and draw the vibrosword, the balance too front-heavy and the metal cold against her skin. Yet, it was still more elegant than the rifle she'd been using.

The four of them slunk cautiously forward, all acknowledging that they'd lost the element of surprise even though none of them admitted it out loud. So, it wasn't particularly shocking when they slipped into the cavernous room and saw three hooded figures watching and waiting, curiosity warring with anger in their yellow eyes. The chamber itself had already been cleared out, the artifacts and other valuables were taken away aside from some shards of pottery and a handful of stray beads that littered the floor. Freedon Nadd's sarcophagus remained, though it now served as the central hub of whatever research the Sith were performing.

"A Jedi," one of the Sith remarked, her eyes narrowing.

A second figure shook his head. "No. Perhaps once, but no longer. Darkness fills her now."

"I know who I am." Meetra straightened her shoulders as she strode forward, the sword grasped lightly in her right hand. "I think the better question is, who are you? I'm used to finding Mandalorians on this moon, not Sith."

The one figure who hadn't spoken chuckled lightly, her voice younger than the others. "Separately we are nothing of importance, but together we serve something greater. Much like the darkness within this tomb, our power can be harnessed for so much more." She stepped forward, her hooded head tilting to the side. "And you? Do you savor the power that you find here, or do you still cling to the teachings of your dying Order?"

Meetra's eyes grew wide. "…Dying Order? You do know something about whatever's attacking the Jedi!"

"Perhaps." The hooded man nodded solemnly. "But it is our masters who know the whole truth."

Scoffing at the notion, Kreia hissed, "These fools are nothing more than minions, spouting the words they have been told without fully understanding the meaning of what they say."

"Yet, I sense there is still truth to be discovered here," Visas whispered as she crept closer to Meetra.

"Tell me what you know and be honest about it, and I'll let you go. It's the best offer you're going to receive because even if I don't defeat you, either the Mandalorians or the Republic will. Now, what do you know about the attacks on the Jedi? And while you're at it, what do you know about Revan?"

"Revan." The youngest of the hooded figures spat the name like a curse. "The man who lured others into darkness, but refused to take the final leap himself? The man who sold out his most loyal ally for the chance to once again become a hero in the eyes of a Republic who appreciated him more dead than alive? You're one of them, aren't you? One of the Revanchists."

"I was." Meetra lifted her sword, anger surging around her as she listened to the accusations leveled against one of her closest friends. "And I'd think very carefully about your next words"

But the Sith weren't intimidated by this response and all three began to reach for the metallic hilts clipped at their hips. Bao-Dur raised his prosthetic arm nervously. "General, something tells me they didn't like that answer."

Meetra barely heard the Zabrak's advice. "Revan shared his research with any of his followers who were willing to learn, but his goal was never to lead them astray! He was always honest about the power of the dark side and the dangers that it held. Even in his darkest moments his friends and allies were more important to him than glory or fame. Yes, he valued the Republic, but never to the point of betraying others in its name!"

"He betrayed Lord Malak." The youngest Sith's eyes narrow, her voice laced with venom.

Snorting at the suggestion, Meetra glared at the dark-robed figure. "Alek betrayed himself when he seized control of the Republic and abandoned all of his ideals."

"Traitor!" the Sith screamed, her voice filled with rage. "Lying kath hound!"

The two other dark robed figures seethed with impatience at their companion's outburst, the older woman turning to her and asking, "Shall we kill them, Lashowe?"

It was an unnecessary question because the youngest Sith was already drawing her lightsaber and igniting the red blade as she charged at Meetra, her technique graceless but fueled by her hatred. A sharp chop drove the former Jedi back, though she easily blocked it with a swing of her vibroblade. The second slice was also knocked aside with relative ease, though none of this seemed to discourage Lashowe. Her yellow eyes burned with fury as she dove forward, swinging her 'saber with reckless abandon.

Ducking to the ground, Meetra rolled neatly out of her assailant's path as she paused to look around the room. The other Sith had also activated their lightsabers and were attacking her crew indiscriminately, the man hacking viciously at Visas's staff while the other woman tried to carve through the energy field that held Bao-Dur's arm in place. Both of her allies appeared frightened, an emotion that only fed into the dark currents of energy flowing through the tomb. Only Kreia seemed unperturbed as she moved around the perimeter of the room, keeping all three Sith in her sights as she summoned her own power.

Closing her eyes, Meetra sent out her awareness as she attempted to tie all of their minds together. However, her focus was disrupted by the heat and sizzle of a lightsaber swinging dangerously close to her face. Only years of battle-honed reflexes enabled her to raise the vibroblade and block Lashowe's hit before it struck her cheek, but it was still a close call. Reeling back, she carefully steadied herself and focused on deflecting the next three slashes with practiced precision as she looked for an opening to go on the offensive. There would have been plenty of opportunities if she was wielding a 'saber, but the inferior deflection and heavier weight of the sword made things much harder.

Just as Meetra spotted a weak point in Lashowe's guard, she felt a cry of pain echo through the room. Turning towards the distress she saw Visas collapse to the ground, her now-severed staff sliding from one hand as the Miraluka clutched a deep wound burned into her right hip. The Sith she'd been dueling sneered triumphantly and raised his lightsaber for the killing blow.

The scream that Meetra had produced in the Mandalorian outpost had been one of frustration and outrage. But this time, the sound that erupted was formed from pure terror, her protectiveness over Visas exploding outward in a shriek that cut through the air. All three Sith recoiled at the noise, stumbling backward as they tried to shake off the effects now tearing through their minds. Meetra seized the opportunity, ducking out of Lashowe's range and sprinting over to the Miraluka who was still sprawled across the stone floor. Carefully shielding the other woman with her own body, she tried to drag the prone figure away from her attacker. Unfortunately, the Sith recovered in time to notice and lashed out. This time his red blade caught the top of Meetra's left shoulder, causing her to howl in agony.

Fresh fear blossomed through the Force as both Visas and Bao-Dur realized that their friend was injured, though it was nothing compared to the bone-chilling dread that gripped Meetra's heart. She hadn't experienced the raw agony of a lightsaber wound in years, and she suddenly felt more vulnerable than she could ever remember.

'Use it,' Kreia's voice murmured through her head. 'True weakness is to deny your fear in battle, while true strength is to embrace what you feel and turn it to your advantage.'

Her heart still pounding with fright Meetra lunged forward, diving just beneath the Sith's arms before he struck at her again. Swinging the vibroblade in a wide arc around her body, she sank the edge deep into the man's side, using the Force to drive it further between his ribs and into his organs. He sputtered, gasping for breath and swaying on his feet as Meetra held out her hand and summoned his lightsaber into her own palm. With a snarl she lunged forward with a fierce slash, severing the Sith's head before whipping around and blocking an incoming chop from Lashowe.

"Bao-Dur, keep Visas safe!" Meetra called, parrying two of the youngest Sith's attacks in quick succession before leaping up and kicking the other woman hard in the stomach. "I'll take care of the rest."

As the Zebrak tried to disengage from the Sith woman he was barely holding off with shocks from his prosthetic arm, she only doubled the fury of her attacks. But before she could land a hard stab to his chest, she found herself momentarily trapped in place by a burst of Force power from Kreia. That was all it took for Bao-Dur to disengaged and dart towards Visas, grasping the Miraluka beneath her arms. As he dragged her off to the side he murmured, "I think we'd better let those two handle things from here."

Seeing her friends relatively safe sent a bright surge of relief through Meetra, and she let the sensation wash over her as she knocked back Lashowe with a series of smooth slashes that neatly deflected any attacks aimed at her. Moderation, she reminded herself. Niman is about moderation. Yet, she was still able to press the offensive, mostly due to her opponent's increasing fatigue. The remaining Sith must have noticed this as well, as the older dark-robed woman managed to break free from Kreia's grasp and take a diving swing at Meetra's back.

"General, watch out!" The shout flowed through the chamber just as a jolt of warning shot down Meetra's spine. She spun around with her free hand extended, the Force flowing through her fingertips to freeze the older Sith in mid-leap. A furious expression spread across the black-clad woman's face.

With one arm still holding an adversary at bay, Meetra lunged forward and parried a strike from Lashowe, catching the other woman by surprise. Leaning back on one heel she swung her empty hand around, throwing the immobilized Sith through the air. The older woman let out a yell of shock, her arms flailing helplessly as she was hurled towards the ground, striking her younger compatriot on her way down. Both Sith landed in a tangled heap, though they immediately scrambled to regain their footing. But before they could attack again, an invisible pressure encircled both of their throats, lifting them each off the ground until they were suspended in midair.

"Someone, take their lightsabers," Meetra ordered as she held the Sith aloft with the Force, her own confiscated blade now pointed at them. "I gave you the chance to leave here unscathed. Instead, you chose to attack me."

Kreia huffed as she easily snatched the weapons from both Sith's grasps. "Yes, you did warn them. Now leave them here. They clearly know nothing of value and the type of master they serve will not tolerate failure."

"Then killing them would be a mercy."

"General." Bao-Dur's expression was worried as he looked up at the women now struggling against the power gripping their throats. "You said back on Telos that there's a difference between the best choice, the morally upstanding choice, and the path of least resistance. It sounds to me like killing them would be the easy way out for everyone."

"You're right." Releasing her hold, Meetra let the Sith drop to the floor. As they coughed and sputtered she informed them, "I'm going to turn you over to an old friend. Last I heard, the Jedi don't execute their prisoners. They just lock them away for a long, long time."

"You're turning us over to the Jedi?" Lashawe spat on the floor in disgust.

"Yes. Ironically, that might be the crueler fate for you." Thoughts of Revan sparing Malak's life flitted through Meetra's mind, and she struggled to ignore the accompanying emotions. "Though, I can always put in a good word if you finally tell me what you know."

"Nihilus. Our master's name is Lord Nihilus."

Staring confusedly at the older Sith, Meetra arched a brow. "Not Sion?"

The Sith shook her head. "We've served Lord Sion as well, but we answer to Lord Nihilus. Everything that I know about him is stored in that datapad sitting on top of the sarcophagus."

Meetra quickly retrieved the pad and glanced over the information. It wasn't much. "This is everything?"

Watching the Sith nod, Kreia smiled secretively. "It's a name, which is more than we knew when we entered this tomb. And names hold their own type of power."

"I think there are a few items here that might also be of interest to you, General." Sorting through a mess of mechanical equipment laying on a table, Bao-Dur squinted as he held up a few smaller pieces.

"Alright." Meetra was already helping Visas to her feet, returning the Miraluka's shaky smile as she supported the other woman's weight. "Take whatever you think will help. I'll comm Veela to help us with the prisoners."

Cleaning out the rest of the tomb was comparatively easy, especially once the Mandalorians arrived and dragged the remaining Sith out with sharp prods from their blaster rifles. Though the armored figures seemed uncomfortable walking through Freedon Nadd's final resting place, they didn't comment on the morbid setting. They also didn't linger once their job was done. Meetra and her allies followed several meters behind the scouting party as they marched towards the exit, assisting Visas as she limped along.

"What exactly did you take?" Meetra softly asked Bao-Dur, hoping that he didn't violate their terms with Kavar.

"Oh, nothing special," the Zabrak replied with a grin. "Just some lightsaber parts. Probably enough to make more than one. I got some practice repairing them during the war and I thought I could help you construct a new one. It might help pass the time during hyperspace travel."

"Ah. That wasn't necessary, but… Thank you. I'm not sure I'm ready to make a new one, but you're right. It could be a fun project for both of us."

It was only after they'd arrived back at the Mandalorian camp that Meetra realized she'd clipped the Sith's lightsaber to her own belt out of habit.

---

"So, there's more of them? Dammit, that's what Bastila was afraid of." Carth gritted his teeth as he paced around the Hawk's main hold.

Meetra blinked back her surprise. "Bastila? You talked to… Bastila Shan?"

"More commonly known as Vann's Padawan… usually to his chagrin."

"That's… surprising. Well, what else did she say?"

"She's worried about a Sith power vacuum now that Malak is imprisoned. A lot of his loyal followers escaped in the chaos that came after the battle on the Star Forge and it's possible that some of them are leading this new Sith emergence."

"But what if it's not his followers?" Frowning at the thought, Meetra muttered, "Kavar thought that a lot of these Sith seemed young and inexperienced."

"That was another possibility that she thought of, and I'm honestly not sure which one sounds worse. Either way, she was wondering if we could meet her on Dantooine and…"

"Dantooine?"

Noticing Meetra's shocked expression, Carth studied her worriedly."Um, is there a problem with that?"

"I was raised on Dantooine. But I haven't been back since…"

"Since Malak bombed the place into rubble about three years ago?" Atton cocked a brow.

Carth glared, causing the younger man to shrink back in apology. "Did… you even know what Malak did to Dantooine? I, I'm sorry. I should probably have sat you down and explained…"

"Since the war." Swallowing hard, Meetra blurted out, "I haven't been home since the war."

"You don't have to come with me to see Bastila." Carth tried to offer a comforting smile, but it looked incredibly strained. "But I don't think I can talk her out of meeting us on Dantooine, at least not for another couple of weeks. She's been trying to broker some type of peace between the remaining Jedi and the other locals, and she finally thinks she's making some progress."

"She was always stubborn. I think I understand why Revan might like her." Managing a shrug, Meetra stood from her seat "And anyway, I should come too. As much as I hate to admit it, Vrook is there and according to Atris's files, he might know more about the disappearing Jedi. Feel free to set a course whenever you're ready, I'll let Mand'alor know where we're headed in case he needs to contact us."

The Mandalorian leader had declined an offer to travel with the Hawk's crew while they investigated the new Sith threat and Revan's disappearance. "I'm still gathering my people here on Dxun. You have your responsibilities and I have mine," he'd explained. "But if you can do me a small favor, I'd owe you one later."

Meetra had been admittedly curious when she inquired further.

"If you see my daughter during your travels, tell her that I'm gathering the clans. She left home soon after the war and I haven't seen her since. I don't think she liked watching our people scatter. Honestly, I don't blame her."

When asked for more information, Mand'alor's response had been vague. Apparently, his daughter was adopted, a long and proud tradition for the Mandalorians. She was a war orphan that Clan Ordo had taken in and raised as one of their own. Beyond that the description was simple; a young woman in her early twenties with red hair, green eyes, and a fiery personality. She was probably using an alias, so her name was something that her father kept to himself. It wasn't much to go on, but Meetra had promised to look anyway.

"Thank you." Mand'alor's tone had grown somber. "And if you ever need something done right, feel free to contact me. I'll give you my encrypted channel."

Despite everything that had transpired during the war, Meetra had been entirely sincere when she wished him luck in restoring his people's place in the galaxy. While she wasn't sure how he'd become the Mandalorian's new leader, she was glad it was him. Mand'alor was tough but fair, and he actually seemed determined to live up to his title as a preserver rather than another warmonger out to conqueror the galaxy.

Back on the Hawk, Carth chuckled dryly. "I can comm Canderous and make an announcement to the rest of the crew regarding our next destination. I've been in charge of this ship before, so I think I can handle it for a few hours while you sit down and… prepare. Dantooine is probably going to look a lot different than you remember."

Fighting back the dread that was gripping her throat, Meetra nodded. "Alright, thank you. Hey uh, Atton? Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"For you? I can spare at least two minutes."

Meetra carefully lead the pair out of the main hold and into one of the secondary cargo compartments, pointedly avoiding the dormitory where Kreia was currently meditating. Once they were alone she threw her arms around Atton's chest, drawing him close. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Though he looked mildly perplexed, he still grinned. "But hey, feel free to keep apologizing."

"For whatever happened to you during the war and for whatever mistakes the Jedi made." Reaching up, Meetra placed her hands on her companion's shoulder. "And for the choices that I made."

Atton shook his head. "Nothing that happened to me was your fault. Revan and Malak's maybe, but not yours." Upon receiving a doubtful look he elaborated, "Everything went wrong for me way before Malachor. I wasn't even near the final battle."

"I was part of a lot more battles than just Malachor."

"You're not one of the Jedi who kriffed me up." Winking, Atton ran the pad of his thumb down Meetra's nose. "I'm positive that I would have remembered you."

"I'm still sorry. It's just… The Force is strange. It can open you up to all different sensations and emotions, and most of the time it's beautiful. It's like a sun without the glare or a shining current that ties the galaxy together. But that same beauty also carries pain and in the midst of war, a Force user has to shut themself off from that sensation or else it overwhelms them. But shutting out suffering is equally dangerous. In some ways, apathy is a bigger threat than fear or anger."

Leaning closer Atton whispered, "You don't have to explain this to me… Mostly because I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I just want you to know that the Revanchists who fell… It was an accident. They all started out with good intentions but got lost along the way. Revan and Alek are good people who were forced to make impossible decisions. War isn't easy and they were so young… We all were."

"Thank you."

It was Meeta's turn to look befuddled. "For telling you the truth?"

"For caring." Atton pressed a gentle kiss against her forehead, the gesture surprisingly chaste considering all of the suggestive comments that he'd made in the past weeks. "For wanting me to understand."

Still clinging to the taller figure's shoulders, Meetra nodded weakly as she stared into his eyes. "Of course I care."

Atton's expression darkened. "You might not if you knew the truth about me."

"Then tell me. I can't promise how I'll react, but I swear that I'll listen."

"Maybe another time." Cupping Meetra's cheeks in his palms, Atton drew her close enough that their noses touched, their breath mingling as he spoke. "For now, I want you to keep caring about me."

It was impulsive for her to lean in and kiss him, looping her arms around his neck as he chuckled in surprise and then pressed closer, nipping her gently before parting his lips and teasing her with his tongue. But it also felt right. Her past was going to catch up to her once they landed on Dantooine but for now, all she cared about was the present.

---

Author's Notes

Thank you for reading. Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated!

You can find me on Twitter (ergo_maria) and Tumblr (ergomaria).

1. There's no official list of the battles that Carth was part of, but since he served with the Revanchists and was considered a decorated war hero it seems reasonable that he was at Dxun.

2. I know that I'm exaggerating Visas's Force Sight ability but I really like the idea that it sees beyond normal sight, especially since it's so limiting in other ways. (colors, textures, etc.)

3. I'm using the name "Mand'alor" as that's the Mando'a spelling of the word. This represents the name being pronounced with a Mandalorian accent.

4. Veela dies in the Revan novel, but she's obviously alive here. I prefer to portray her and Canderous as a happy and functional Mandalorian couple rather than a pair of contentious warriors. Granted, I took a few liberties concerning Mandalorian culture.

5. Lashawe is a canon character at the Korriban Sith academy in KOTOR and she briefly appears in No Light without Shadow as a Sith student.

6. Canderous does not canonically have children to the best of my knowledge. However, his daughter is a plot point in this story.