Epilogue
Revan sat by the window of his cabin, watching the stars drift by. There were fewer of them now, here at the very edge of the galaxy; soon the ship would be outside the boundaries of known space, pursuing an elusive foe into uncharted territory. Who knew how long it would be before they came back? If they would ever come back?
As Malak had predicted, most of the Jedi and soldiers serving under Revan had readily agreed to come with him. After his triumph at Malachor V, their loyalty to him was absolute – they would follow him to the ends of the galaxy and beyond. Those who had declined to come would return to the core worlds, taking the Mandalorian prisoners with them; it would also be their task to explain where Revan and Malak had gone, and why.
To his shame, Revan had lacked the courage to tell Admiral Dodonna himself. He knew she would try to persuade him to return, and he couldn't bear to face her shock and reproach when he told her that it was impossible. He regretted the pain he would cause to her, and to his friends among the Jedi – but he no longer belonged in the Order. He was better off without them, and they were probably better off without him...
Forgive me, Master. Forgive me, Bastila.
A cold, sick feeling of dread engulfed him – the same sensation he had felt on the night before that final battle. If only he'd heeded the warnings, if only he could turn back... but now it was too late. He lowered his head into his hands, tears stinging his eyes. He was surrounded by friends and well-wishers; yet never, in the whole of his life, had he felt so alone...
Outside, in the vast, bleak emptiness of space, the last few tiny points of light flickered and faded into darkness.
Revan sat by the window of his cabin, watching the stars drift by. There were fewer of them now, here at the very edge of the galaxy; soon the ship would be outside the boundaries of known space, pursuing an elusive foe into uncharted territory. Who knew how long it would be before they came back? If they would ever come back?
As Malak had predicted, most of the Jedi and soldiers serving under Revan had readily agreed to come with him. After his triumph at Malachor V, their loyalty to him was absolute – they would follow him to the ends of the galaxy and beyond. Those who had declined to come would return to the core worlds, taking the Mandalorian prisoners with them; it would also be their task to explain where Revan and Malak had gone, and why.
To his shame, Revan had lacked the courage to tell Admiral Dodonna himself. He knew she would try to persuade him to return, and he couldn't bear to face her shock and reproach when he told her that it was impossible. He regretted the pain he would cause to her, and to his friends among the Jedi – but he no longer belonged in the Order. He was better off without them, and they were probably better off without him...
Forgive me, Master. Forgive me, Bastila.
A cold, sick feeling of dread engulfed him – the same sensation he had felt on the night before that final battle. If only he'd heeded the warnings, if only he could turn back... but now it was too late. He lowered his head into his hands, tears stinging his eyes. He was surrounded by friends and well-wishers; yet never, in the whole of his life, had he felt so alone...
Outside, in the vast, bleak emptiness of space, the last few tiny points of light flickered and faded into darkness.