Kreia, in her own words / Episode 2
There is no death there is the Force, and with that clause securely written in my contract, I feel that it is time to tell you what really happened. I will tell you the story of my life. For in such diminutive things come the death of worlds and the echoes of things yet to come—for those who have small human-shaped ears to listen with.
For the others I have no little to say, and no advice.
I remember when I was a small Padawan, Master Vandar sat me on his knee and told me the secrets of the Jedi. His lap was too small and I slid to the floor, but the lessons he imparted have remained with me ever since.
"When you are lost in a galaxy full of stars," said he, "remember that no matter where you go, there you are."
Shortly after this I embarked on my quest for Knighthood. It was a challenge, counting every grain of sand in the deserts of Tatooine. I feared at times that the sun would blind me. And so it was that I learned to rely on my other senses, feeling each grain of sand and every ray of sun through the Force. The infinite songs of the universe made me dizzy, and I was captured by sand-people and spent several years as a servant to them, always remembering to keep counting when my chores were done.
I think five years passed that way before I finally realized the true meaning of my task. Before the twin suns of Tatooine rose on the horizon I escaped from my captors and made my way back to Anchorhead. Sadly, my ship had been repossessed years before--but I have long had a talent for travel with no visible means of transportation—and so I made my way back to Dantooine, the safe and hidden training academy of the Jedi.
"Well, Padawan Kreia Traya? Have you completed your task?" Master Vandar had not aged a day, but of course his race ages more slowly than ours, although like most aliens they are also more ugly and wrinkled and short. His long green ears twitched, and his eyes opened wide and unnaturally as little moons in the sky.
"Yes, Master Vandar," I answered. "There are many grains of sand in the deserts of Tatooine. And before this strange journey ends I will tell you how many. For know that you are very important to me, and at the end of all things, I want your respect."
The wizened old Jedi chuckled. "You are learning, Padawan," he said. "I think you should become our librarian and watch over this collection of Sith holocrons we managed to save from the ravages of Ossus. But be careful, for such knowledge can lead to the dark side, much like the rays of the twin suns of Tatooine can lead to skin cancer and premature aging."
"Having suffered one, I do not fear the other," I declared boldly.
"I fear your pride will lead you down a dark path," Vrook Lamar intoned from the corner where he had been skulking. That being said, he walked out of the room.
We both ignored him. Vrook was always doing things like that.
XXX
Many years passed and I was given Padawans of my own. Much to my sadness, all of them fell to the dark side. Where they walk now is not important. Sometimes I was plagued by guilt and doubts, though a Jedi knows not of these things. In my moments of uncertainty I wondered if having the red and black meditation room built and activating the holocrons to all sing ancient Sith marching songs in shrill undying unison whilst my Padawans meditated inside was not as restful as I had hoped it would be.
But a fall is a quiet thing, surely, and the holocrons were anything but quiet.
The other Masters looked at me oddly, and whispered and left the room when I entered it, but I thought not much of these things. As a Jedi, your path is your own, after all; and I did what I chose. As long as it didn't involve love, force-choking, or some strange combination of the two, no one paid me any mind. In fact, at times, I almost resented the way they never noticed me. Of course being a Jedi I did not, but, I thought about it.
My last Padawan was a woman named Darth Revan. I felt sorry for the poor child, having to suffer a name like that, but Darth is a name like any other and perhaps, among the stars where she had been born, it did not have the same unfortunate connotation.
Only too soon, like the others, she grew up, went off to fight Mandalorians, and fell to the dark side. It was then that Darth Revan called me to her side and I came, for I loved her very, very much.
"Please stop fawning all over me," she begged. She was troubled, my Padawan. This I could see. Her shadow, a hulking Jedi named Darth Malak hovered by her side like a faithful kath.
"Before the end of all things," I began, trying to keep my voice even, and not sound like a nagging mother. "Before the end of all things you will understand why I did what I did and how small actions can affect the very fabric of the universe, like a butterflies wings. Jedi have very big wings."
"Right yeah," Darth Revan said. She rolled her eyes at me in a gesture of respect. "Listen, there's this horrible threat beyond the known reaches of space. Being born there, I recognized it instantly. But only I know about it and therefore I must unite the galaxy for the battle that will come, a greater battle than any the universe has ever known."
"Only you can choose your path," I responded, warming to my task. "And although I fear that all of my lessons have been in vain and you are too blind to see I am sure that at the end of all things you will make the right choice."
"I really think we should speak to the Council about this," muttered her shadow.
"You have no idea what I'm talking about, Mal," she snapped back. "Only I know about this threat. It is my burden and mine alone."
"Surely it's nothing a good carpet-bombing wouldn't fix!" he shot back. "Have we learned nothing in the Mandalorian wars?"
We were sitting in a large room in an abandoned Sith academy Revan had discovered on Malachor V. With the storm beasts cleared out, its echoing corridors and circular black runes made me feel strangely at home. Revan and the Jedi that followed her did excellent restoration work. It's a shame the place went to hell and exploded later, I really miss it.
"What lessons can I teach one who is too blind to see?" I wondered idly aloud. "If you wish to unite the galaxy, Padawan Darth Revan, you will need artifacts of ancient power capable of manufacturing a strong military armada, and loyal men and women to fly them. You will also need many Force Adepts, for everyone knows that one Jedi is worth a thousand common foot soldiers."
"And droids," Darth Malak said, with an odd gleam in his eye. "Shiny ones. Lots of them."
"No droids!" I said, perhaps more harshly than I'd intended. "No droids and no aliens."
Sometimes still at night, even as an old woman I still have nightmares about Master Vandar's ears.
"I'm not really sure that the term 'alien' has that much significance in a galaxy teeming with a thousand different sentient species," Revan mused, her mind already straying from the task at hand.
"Artifacts of ancient power," I reminded her sharply.
Arrogant girl that she was, she dismissed my counsel. "I've got that covered. And the ship thing too...," she pondered. "But I feel like something is missing..."
"The Jedi will surely never take us back," Darth Malak worried, somewhat apropos of nothing. "For they are weak and indecisive."
"Right or wrong does not matter," I advised sagely. "It is making the choice that is important."
"You just said you trusted me to make the right choice though?" Revan frowned. "Sometimes I wonder about you, Master Kreia Traya."
"Then you are learning," I chuckled and admired the Sith mosaics set into the wall.
The ancient Sith were fine masons. If you have the time, you should take the 'Ancient Sith Monuments' tour. It's really priceless.
"The Jedi will resist my plans," she deliberated, and I could see the brilliant military strategist that she had become, raised in the secret Dantooine enclave surrounded by farmlands far from the ravages of war, coming to the surface. "They will resist me, or they will join me. But those that resist..." her voice trailed off thoughtful.
"Bombs," Malak said. I think he was just trying to help. "We'll drop lots of bombs on them and attack their ships. And maybe we could build an army of droids too?"
"You're just like Ulic Qel-Droma sometimes, Mal!" Revan said irritably. "Always with the invading and the bombings and the let's-sack-Coruscant!"
"I never said we should attack Coruscant!" he argued, frowning. "I was thinking we could inspire fear by taking out some non-strategic targets first."
"Assassins," Revan said, her mind made up. "We'll wage a secret war. Those that we cannot convert to the dark side we'll kill in secret. Assassins. In black costumes. With goggles."
"What about the Star Forge ships, Rev?" Malak asked, angrily. "It can operate at 200 capacity and has dark power you can't even imagine."
"Okay," my Padawan relented, her eyes softening, "we can wage two wars at once. One against the Republic and its military might, and a second against the few thousand Jedi that wander around the galaxy doing their thing. But mark-my-words, the second war is the important one!"
"The assassins could use vibroblades," she continued thoughtfully. "Much quieter than 'sabers. Cheaper too."
"You are the Master," the huge man agreed, somewhat sulky. "Are you going to hire the Genoharadan to help with the assassinations?"
"The what?" Revan said, absently, running a hand along his thigh. It was almost as if they'd forgotten I was still there.
"Never mind." Malak sighed. "I guess they weren't important."
I wondered to myself what the Star Forge was. Sometimes I wonder it still. True, about five years ago HoloNet had a holiday special called the "Heroes of the Star Forge" that featured a woman who looked surprisingly like Darth Revan, but she was surrounded by a cast of miscreants and that horrible Bastila Shan, and the reception here on Malachor V has never been the same since the gravity shadow bombing...well, whatever it was, like all heroes everywhere, they have since faded from galactic memory. As do all things, given time.
Where Revan walks now, I cannot say. Would I have followed her, if she asked me? I did love her very much. Perhaps that love is why she never asked. It was nice of her to leave me the Ebon Hawk, I suppose in her own way, she did it because she cared for me too.
I'm sure the restraining order that Commander Grenn quietly handed to me on Telos was just her idea of a joke. My Padawan always had a strange sense of humor.