Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Star Wars. I'm just using the universe George Lucas created to have some fun myself. The main characters are my own, unless otherwise noted. Many of the characters I don't own were borrowed from 'KTOR'.
Rating: We'll stick with R for later violence, continuous language, and sexual and/or drug content. Reader discretion is advised.
A/N: Got the idea for this after playing some of the current 'SW' games, including 'Knights of the Old Republic'.
A/N+1: Takes at the end of 'KTOR', during the assault on the Star Forge.
*****
Staring out into space, he could feel almost insignificant. Sometimes, he felt so small, staring out into the infinite darkness that was is daily companion. For his entire life, he had spent no more than a few days within the atmosphere of any planet at a stretch, but that was how he preferred it. Captain of his own ship; and able to travel wherever he pleased... in his heart, he knew this was as close as he would ever get to feeling like a god.
Sighing, a gloved hand absentmindedly brushed the long strands of his hair back, the brown-and-blonde locks staying out of his face almost reluctantly. He checked each status panel before him with a familiar ease, everything just as it should be, as usual. Although her name was Devil's Luck, this ship ran on anything but, thanks in part to her owner and pilot, Lars Arwell.
Devil's Luck had been idling outside of normal trade lanes for almost a standard day now, awaiting word from the only passenger's contact. Lars hadn't been overly pleased with the assignment, but somehow found himself taking it. There were a lot of credits being paid for a simple task such as this, but he still felt a bit wary about it. Especially considering the passenger, Ayra Lavent, a Jedi.
"Any word yet, Lars?" the soft query from behind him would have caused him to jump, if it had been any other person. The shorter, stocky man who stood by the doorway was someone who he knew all his life, after all.
JJ McKoogs wore his typical mechanic's overalls, which were surprisingly clean for once. It might have something to do with the fact that they had a Jedi as a passenger, or, more likely, because he had finally replaced his old overalls prior to taking this mission.
"Not yet," Lars replied, his own voice soft. "I'm hoping we'll get whatever the hell we're looking for soon. The Sith have been particularly active in this sector for some reason."
JJ nodded, then walked over and slapped Lars on the shoulder. It was habit between them, wrought from long years traveling between the stars. It was a simple enough gesture, signaling that one watch was over, and another had begun.
*****
The Star Forge Command Center
"Somehow I always knew it would end like this, Revan," Malak hissed between his bloodied teeth, staring up at the man whom he had once followed and later tried to kill. "My life... slipping... into darkness..."
The man once known as Revan smiled coldly as he looked down upon his one time apprentice. The slight hum of his lightsaber was the only sound other than Malak's last labored breaths.
"Then let me hurry this along, Malak," Revan stated as he brought the lightsaber back, the red glow giving his face a demonic pallor that was completely unneeded. The alien cast of his skin and eyes, 'a gift' of the dark side, did a well enough job of that. "I've a universe to rule."
A sharp cut. The sizzle of cauterized flesh. The fall of one Sith Lord.
And the rebirth of another.
*****
The Bridge of Devil's Luck
JJ's jaw had been ajar for quiet some time now, his shock evident, and perhaps slightly amusing. But the news he had just heard, and the ramifications of it, shot through his mind like a blaster bolt. The desperate plea of the message was the worst. The small, green-skinned Jedi Master didn't ask to be saved, didn't plea for rescue. He asked to send warning.
Revan was reborn.
Acting almost on instinct, JJ punched in the coordinates to the nearest safe spaceport he knew of. His mind had barely begun to wrap itself around the news as the ship shot into hyperspace, leaving the hour-old plea to trail through the emptiness of space until the signal lost strength and faded.
When Lars and Jedi Ayra came running to the bridge, he played the message back for them. He knew in his heart this was what the Jedi had been waiting for. Why else would she want a ship so skilled at sudden escapes, but to wait for the worst news, and bring back warnings of this... tide of darkness.
It turns out he was right.
*****
On the planet below the Star Forge
Carth Onasi stared at the sky, watching with a morbid fascination as the Sith fleet tore through the Republic. The bright flashes of orange flame always heralded the death of another ship, carrying men and women he had fought alongside to the darkness of death. He had been betrayed, again.
He should have followed his instincts, the ones that screamed the man, Jonas, was not to be trusted. But instead he followed, aiding him were he could. He even stayed with him after learning who he really was. Carth believed that Jonas could change, that he could atone for the evil acts he had perpetrated as Darth Revan. Hell, it had almost worked. But something had happened in the temple on this planet, something that turned the man who had been his friend into the Dark Lord of the Sith.
Sighing, Carth lowered his gaze to the small shelter that he shared with Mission and Zaalbar. They were the only survivors of their original party, as far as they knew. Jonas and Bastila were as good as dead, having gone over to the dark side, while Jolee never returned from the temple. Canderous and the droids had gone with Revan to the Star Forge, where he was most likely attempting to reclaim his title as Sith Lord.
He knew the three of them had little chance of being rescued, or even surviving very long. But from somewhere within his heart, Carth found the strength to carry on. He would pay Revan back for his betrayal.
Even if it cost Carth his life.
*****
The Jedi Temple, Coruscant
Since the onset of the Sith War, few had made the walk through the archway to enter this sacred place. Very few new apprentices were brought here by their families. After all, who would want a young child to die in this war, or worse, turn into some kind of monster? Many parents seemed to have more faith in raising their force-sensitive child without training than the uncertain future that awaited them as Jedi.
And yet... one man walked through the archway this day, his coming soon to be followed by horrible news of the deepest despair. Although none knew it yet, his arrival would soon be overshadowed by the re-emergence of Darth Revan.
Shane Osric glanced around the enormous hallway, his hazel eyes searching with practiced ease. What he sought was anyone's guess right now, even to the two Jedi who moved to greet him, and in truth protect the masters within from any harm. The small probes each sent to the man's mind were turned away with surprising ease, leaving the two Jedi to puzzle the man before them without benefit of their greatest ally, the Force.
"Greetings, Sir," the first Jedi, a human woman with dark hair and piercing green eyes, said as she stood just out of arms reach. "Welcome to the Temple of the Jedi. How can we be of assistance?"
The man locked gazes with each Jedi in turn, taking his own measure of them. His loose fitting clothing and short cropped hair seemed familiar to both of them, but at the same time, strangely unusual. The cloth pack he carried over his shoulder looked to be quiet heavy, but he bore it on one shoulder almost casually. He carried no obvious weapons, but almost anything could be hidden in the folds of his clothing, or the sack he carried. And yet... outwardly, he betrayed no signs of aggression, or anger. Just a strange sense of purpose that seemed to roll off him in barely noticeable waves.
"I seek," he began slowly, lowering his bag to the ground slowly, "an audience with the Jedi Council." The second Jedi, a short and thin human male, raised an eyebrow as his initial response. The woman smiled softly and motioned with her hand for him to continue. "I am here to begin my training."
*****
Revan's Chambers
Bastila entered the chamber slowly, unsure of what her new Master summoned her for. It had been barely eight hours since his battle with Malak; since he reclaimed his title and domination over the Sith. A powerful man, to say the least.
"I am here, my Lord," she said, dropping to one knee and lowering her head.
She distinctly heard him rise from his chair and approach her, his boots striking the floor in perfect rhythm. Her heart hammered as the tips of his boots appeared in her vision. She could feel him standing there, watching her.
Judging her.
"Rise, Bastila," he murmured.
Slowly she did as she was commanded, hesitantly meeting his gaze. The ravages of the Dark Side were light on him, as she knew they always had been. Only his slightly pale skin and the strange multi-coloration of his eyes betrayed the evil within his heart. And perhaps it was a benefit of their bond that she, too, escaped the worst physical effects of wielding the dark side of the Force.
"Do you know why I summoned you, Bastila?" he asked, his voice still low.
"No, my lord," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
Smiling softly, he cupped her check with his hand as he stepped closer to her, bringing her body flush against his. Her heart's rapid beating seemed deafening in her own head as she struggled to remain standing.
"Do you fear me?" he asked, his hands now trailing down her body to rest lightly against the swell of her hips.
"No, Revan," she answered honestly, her own hands resting against his chest as she looked up at him. The strength of his body, his height, the set of his shoulders. They all made him seem more powerful, more deadly than those he ruled with an iron fist, yet paled in comparison to the strength he held in the Force. "Never you."
"Then do not be my apprentice," he whispered against her ear. "Be my Queen." Her body rested fully against his now as her lips sought his. The kiss was everything they were to each other, everything that defied the teachings of the Jedi and the Sith. It was the passion that the Jedi did not trust, and feared. It was the pledge of loyalty and devotion that the Sith despised. When they finally broke the kiss, both gasping for air, he knew her answer.
"Together, we shall rule, my sweet Bastila. You shall command the fleet and destroy all who stand against us. I shall defend you against all enemies that seek to harm you for your strength, and command those conquered as I always have, with respect born of fear. We will be unstoppable."
"To halves of a whole, Revan," she said as she pushed the robes she wore from her shoulders.
"As we were meant to be."
*****
Five hours later, at the Jedi Temple
"You ssseeek to train as a Jedi," the first Master, a member of a snake-like species from the Outer Rim, stated. "But you are too old to beginsss the trainingsss."
"Jedi Training begins as a youth," A Twi'lek Master elaborated, "And develops as one ages. We have allowed few exceptions to this rule, and it has always come back to haunt us in some manner."
"I know your reservations about this," Shane replied, standing with his hands clasped behind his back. "But I also know why you will accept me, even if you do not at this moment, Masters."
Chuckling softly, an older human Master looked Shane over again, using both his instincts and the Force to guide him. "Explain to us then, Mr. Osric. State your case now, before the Council makes it's decision and moves onto more important matters."
Shane nodded slightly, looking at each Master in turn. "I am Shane Osric, an orphan twice over. I was raised on many different planets, among many different families. I am strong in the Force, as you are all very well aware of by now. Can you truly afford to turn me away, considering the position you find yourselves, and the Republic, in now?"
"And what position would that be?" The Twi'lek asked, sounding very near amused.
"A friend of my, Lars Arwell, sent me a message yesterday," Shane explained. "You all know him as the owner and pilot of the Devil's Luck... hired by this same council four weeks ago."
"Heard from himsss you have?" the reptilian Master questioned. Despite his alien countenance and accent, it was hard to mistake the concern in his voice.
"Yes, and you will have Jedi Lavent's report tomorrow afternoon. As you know, Bastila was captured by Malak about two weeks ago... and was turned to the Dark side." Ignoring the slight murmur from the Jedi Council, Shane pressed on. "Malak is now dead, as is the bulk of the fleet you sent to the Star Forge. Using her battle Meditation, Bastila wiped almost a third of your strength out."
"And the news only gets worse," the human Master stated, feeling the dark premonition in the Force.
"Revan has been reborn."
*****
Three days later, on Coruscant
The Devil's Luck landed at the private hanger of the Jedi Temple, cleared for their use as few non-Jedi before had. Lars set the ship down with practiced ease, his fingers manipulating the controls with a mastery few could match. It had been a long time since he had been glad to land on anything other than a space station.
"We're here," he said unnecessarily to the other two people on the bridge. Jedi Ayra nodded once before heading to the cabin she had used for the trip. JJ merely sat in the chair across from Lars as the pilot began shutting down systems.
"What are we doing now?" JJ asked quietly. He had been very quiet on the return trip, insisting only that they send a message to Shane, a good friend of theirs.
"I don't know," Lars answered honestly. "Things are going to get ugly real quick, and I just don't know what to do now."
"We could help," JJ suggested. When Lars simply raised an eyebrow, JJ sighed. "I'm sure Shane's up to some harebrained scheme by now. We'll see what he's up to." Shane's dislike of the Jedi was one thing he and Lars had in common.
"This time," Lars muttered, "No damned Jedi. I mean it."
*****
Sitting cross-legged in front of two Jedi Masters, Shane slipped into the old calm that he had learned so long ago. He knew the Jedi wanted to see how practiced he was in the ways of the Force, and he would show them. Perhaps then they would believe him.
Exhaling slowly, he reached out with his mind, levitating the datapad the Jedi had wanted him to read. He started to, and had ever intention of doing so, until he realized it only contained simplistic instructions on wielding the Force. Things like simple meditation were well within the scope of his abilities, and he had told them so. A brief argument ensued, until two Jedi Masters, the ones standing in front of him, agreed to let him demonstrate his abilities.
"Good, Padawan," the Jedi on the right commented. "Now, pick up as many objects from the desk as you can, and orbit them around you. The smaller objects in far, slow circles while the larger ones in closer, faster orbits."
Without acknowledging the task, Shane began lifting objects. A glass of water, some of his personal effects, the chair, and finally the desk itself. Setting the objects in an orbit wasn't too difficult, and Shane soon had them flying about, each in a perfect circle around him.
"Impressive," the Jedi to his left said. "You have learned much on your own, Padawan. Return the items just as they were." Shane complied immediately, setting everything down as commanded. "I guess we'll move on to the obstacle course then."
"And, Padawan," the first Jedi said as he fell into step with his fellow Master, "You'll have to explain to us how you became so proficient with the Force, lacking any guidance."
"Well, Master," Shane began, "It really wasn't without guidance. My father failed in his own Jedi training years ago. It was determined that he was only sensitive to the Force, and lacked any actual ability to use it. The training he did receive was enough to start me down the path."
"I thought you said you were an orphan?" the second Jedi pointed out.
"The man I consider my father," Shane clarified. "He loved me as a son."
"Enough of this for now, Padawan. Prepare yourself for the obstacle course."
*****
Revan's Chambers
The Lord of the Sith was kneeling in the center of the room, his back straight and eyes closed. His bare chest barely moved with his breath, giving him the appearance of a perfectly crafted statue. In all appearances, he was defenseless.
Klavek smiled darkly as he padded closer to Revan, his footfalls absolutely silent as he moved closer to his quarry. The Lord of the Sith is weak, Klavek thought, he treats the woman as his equal, and has abandoned many of the teachings of the Sith. It is his time to fall.
"Die, Revan," he hissed as his lightsaber snapped to life, it's shimmering crimson blade leaping for the unprotected flesh of Revan's neck. Just as victory seemed guaranteed, there was a second snap-hiss of a lightsaber, which was poised to defend Revan.
"You've failed, Klavek," Revan said calmly, rising to his feet with a casual air. "You know the penalty for such a failure."
Klavek sneered at Bastila, who's double-bladed lightsaber had perfectly intercepted his own single blade. The woman met his gaze with a surprising calm, especially considering the rage that he felt in her. By the Sith, she was strong.
"Yes, she is," Revan replied to his unspoken thought. "Much more powerful than you are, but you still have your uses."
"I'll kill you both!"
"I think not, worm." The snap-hiss of Revan's own lightsaber sent chills down Klavek's spine. He had hoped that he wouldn't have to actually face the Dark Lord in combat, but he had stepped too far over the edge, and he was now staring into the oblivion. "Step back, Bastila. I'll handle this."
The woman had the nerve to smile as she forced his blade up and quickly spun out of his reach. He would have cut her down if Revan wasn't standing behind him. Spinning quickly, Klavek faced his opponent , holding his lightsaber low and at the ready.
"Make this quick, worm," Revan sneered. "I've better things to do than prolong your torment."
"I should be the Master here!" Klavek yelled as he leapt at Revan, his anger building with every quick slash of his lightsaber. As his anger grew, so did his connection to the darker side of the Force. Each stroke was designed to kill, but somehow Revan always managed to block the attacks squarely.
Klavek spun, bringing his blade around in a powerful upward stroke, intending to force Revan's blade up and away, but the Sith Lord danced back and out of the way of the strike. Chuckling softly, Revan's perfect defense turned into a staggering offense.
The crimson blade almost sang as it cut through the air, battering Klavek's defenses. Each block sent shudders up his arms, and every near-miss singed his clothing. Klavek knew then that he was doomed.
Revan suddenly spun, using the same move that Klavek had failed mere moments ago. But where the Revan had been able to dodge cleanly, Klavek's blade was simply too slow, his hasty step backwards too late. His lightsaber was driven high above his head, his hand barely maintaining it's hold on the only chance he had to live.
The subtle shift of Revan's hand on the hilt of his lightsaber was the only warning Klavek received. Suddenly, the upward stroke was reversed as Revan took one step forward. There was nothing to impede the deadly stroke but flesh, which is nothing to the power of a lightsaber. Cut from his left shoulder straight through to his groin, Klavek fell into two pieces, his mind going into massive shock the second after the pain hit him, and half a moment before darkness claimed him.
"I'll get someone to clean that up," Bastila said, her voice light with amusement.
"Please do," Revan replied with a slight grin. "I'm pretty sure the meat will start to reek soon."
*****
Chambers of the Jedi Council, Three Weeks Later
"It's been three weeks," the Twi'lek Master said slowly, turning and facing each of his peers in turn, "And still Revan has done nothing. No new attacks on our planets, no push to finish us while we are weak."
"Consssolidating his power he issss," the reptilian Master said. "A great many challengerssss he hasss for hissss throne."
"I agree," a short, thin Master spoke suddenly. "Perhaps this is what we really need right now. A chance to recover from our... recent defeats."
"How long until he strikes?" a tall, heavily muscled woman asked. "And when he does, I doubt we can count on the Sith's habit of infighting. Something's changed about Revan, from all accounts. Perhaps we did not fail as surely as we had thought."
"But with Bastila's Battle Meditation, the Sith Fleet is unstoppable," the Twi'lek pointed out. "To face their main fleet in battle would end us."
"So carefully we mussst tread. Trusssst in the Force we mussst."
*****
"Shane!"
Calling his name caused the tall man to turn around. To JJ, his face seemed drawn and slightly weary. And yet, the look of determination in his eyes was nothing new. Shane was one of the more centered and driven men JJ had ever met.
"Sorry about not meeting with you sooner," Shane said calmly, foregoing a greeting. "I've been very busy these last few weeks."
"I guess so," JJ replied with a smirk. "But I've got to ask, why the sudden change?"
"What change would that be?" The deadpan tone of his answer was something of a running joke between the two.
"Joining the Order?" JJ clarified. "I thought you didn't like, or trust, Jedi."
Chuckling softly, Shane continued walking as the shorter man fell into stride. "It kinda goes hand in hand with why I've avoided them for so long."
"And some of your mysteriousness is dissipating," JJ smirked slightly as looked up at the taller man. "You've been some closet Jedi for years? Or a failed apprentice?"
"I've had the ability all my life, JJ. I just realized recently that I've a duty to the Republic, and myself. I've gotta stand up and fight for what's right."
"I guess you're going to make me tell Lars."
"Most likely," Shane smirked as he stopped walking. "Just break it to him easily. And I'll try and catch you later, I've got another test I'm heading to right now."
"Stay safe, Shane," JJ gripped his hand in a firm handshake. "And let us know what we're going to run into later."
"I promise," Shane said with a distant look in his eye. "And be careful yourself. The Jedi Temple isn't the safe place it used to be."
JJ watched his friend walk of, his confusion written clearly on his face.
*****
"Padawan Osric," the Jedi Knight Kevin greeted his 'apprentice' warmly. Kevin was one of the few Jedi in the Temple that took his training seriously.
"Greetings, Jedi Knight," Shane responded with a slight bow. "Am I to assume that you will be administering my next test?" Shaking his head, the older man lead Shane into a open arena. Odd rocks and perches littered the sandy floor, while the sun shone warmly from the open roof. "Alright then, I'm confused."
"I'm only here to see if you've constructed your lightsaber properly," Kevin explained. "After I've confirmed that, you'll face another Padawan in a duel."
"Another Padawan?" Shane questioned. "I'm not sure that's--"
"Don't think too highly of yourself, Shane," Kevin warned. "First off, pride can lead to the Dark Side just as hate can. And secondly, although you may be very strong in the Force, you're fighting skills are sorely lacking."
"Yes, Jedi."
"Can the false humility, Shane," Kevin chuckled as he turned and faced Shane. "Draw your lightsaber, please."
Shane complied, unclipping the hilt from his belt. It was constructed of metal, as was normal, but the grip was more diligently formed, with a slight curve that fit perfectly into his hand. At Kevin's nod, he casually flipped the switch, turning on the lightsaber. The usual snap-hiss of the saber was somehow muted, and the hum was of a lower pitch than most Kevin had heard. Unusual, but not unheard of. It was the steel gray color of the blade that caught Kevin's eye.
"Interesting choice of crystals, Padawan," Kevin commented. Bringing his own green saber to a guard position, he grinned slightly at Shane. "Nice and slow now, cross slash." Shane complied, and the two lightsabers crackled as the blades touched. Neither blade gave, and Kevin nodded slightly after a moment. Both men turned of their lightsabers.
"You're ready for your test," Kevin said as he leapt straight back, flipping backwards to land on a high ledge. "Good luck, Shane."
Ayra stepped from behind a rock, getting a good look at her opponent. A tall, wiry man with dark hair and hazel eyes greeted her. With a small smile, she brought her own green blade before her, watching for him to make the first move.
Letting the Force flow through him, Shane knew she was there just before she stepped into view. A petite, beautiful woman with the most startling blue eyes he had ever seen. Her lightsaber was already on as she assumed a defensive stance, waiting for him.
With a slight nod of greeting, he activated his own saber and leapt at her, bringing his blade down powerfully. She blocked it evenly, and launched her own attack, forcing him back. Granted, she had a shorter reach than he did, but she moved around with a great deal of skill.
"Damn," Shane muttered under his breath as he was forced slowly back. Rather than continue what would lead to him losing the sparring match, he leapt back, much like Kevin had. Landing lightly on a tall rock, he watched his opponent move. Her fluid grace and inner calm was to be expected, but the short leaps she took, leapfrogging up to face him, was unusual.
What is she up to? Shane pondered as he attacked again, this time cautious of getting too close to her. His quick chops and slashes kept her mostly at his arm's length, but she managed to get close to him a few times. When one of her attacks caused him to slip from the rock, Shane tucked into a neat roll just as he hit the sand, allowing him to put some distance from the rock and gain his feet quickly.
He brought his lightsaber up just in time to intercept her leaping attack. Pushing in close, she began forcing his lightsaber down. Surprised by her strength and skill, Shane did the only thing he could think of, pushing her with the Force.
Or trying to, anyways.
When she didn't budge, he understood why she had been chosen to duel him. His advanced abilities in the Force wouldn't help him here. Perhaps his years living on his own would...
He lashed out suddenly with his right foot, catching her left knee squarely. She fell to one knee, surprise written clearly on her face. When her lightsaber went flying from her hand, she tried to roll to it. Shane's lightsaber cut off her escape, however.
"You cheated," she muttered under her breath, barely maintaining her calm. Shane's lightsaber deactivated as Kevin leapt down from his perch.
"Padawans, what did you learn today?"
"He cheats," Ayra said, pouting slightly. Shane chucked slightly, shrugging his shoulders as he clipped his saber to his belt. Seeing Ayra hadn't retrieved her own lightsaber, he lifted it, causing it to hover just in front of her. She took it with a slight nod and clipped it to her own belt.
"Strength in the Force isn't always enough," Shane said suddenly.
"Very good, Shane," Kevin said as he paced slightly. "And Ayra, what did you really learn."
"Expect the unexpected," she replied. "I supposed a Sith wouldn't fight fair, so why should we?"
"But you must guard against the Dark Side at all times," Kevin added. "It is fine to be victorious, but not at the cost of yourself. Both of you will be training together from now on," he informed them. "Perhaps you can learn more from each other than from your poor instructors." Both Padawans nodded as Kevin turned and headed out of the arena.