Heart's Eye View – Chapter 1
To Catch a Sith Lord
Disclaimer: George Lucas and Bioware own everything. I'm merely having some fun in their playground. Besides which, I'm just a poor, unemployed history major so suing me will get you nothing but the rights to my student loan payments.
I will never forget that morning. I had just woken up and gotten out of the 'fresher. I had just finished tying my dark brown hair into the intricate bun with two short tails I had favored since I was a girl. My mother had been the one to show me how to braid it in this fashion. Despite that, I liked it, and kept it, as one of the few sentimental reminders of my life before joining the order. I wore my tan and brown leather dueling jumpsuit as opposed to a standard Jedi's robe favored by most. I knew I was looked at unfavorably by some for it, but it was Master Vrook permitted it. I never really understood why, considering how conservative he was.
My master came to my quarters earlier than usual. He just walked in unannounced, as was his habit. It was his way of testing our adaptability. He was an older man, balding, with a heavily worn face that told a lifetime of struggle. He had fought in the Exar Kun War and partaken in numerous struggles during his tenure as a master. I could tell he was in a particularly dark mood. "Bastila, I need you to come with me. The council has requested your presence." With that terse phrase, he turned and left as abruptly as he had entered. I followed him quickly, knowing that was what he expected of me.
The Jedi Council of the Dantooine Enclave should not be mistaken for the High Council on Coruscant. Every enclave and academy has a ruling council. However, the Dantooine Enclave's council was made of up two members who also had seats on the High Council of Coruscant, though they chose to reside elsewhere. One was my master, Vrook Lamar, who I have already made mention of. The other was Master Vandar, a diminutive fellow with pale green skin and ears almost as long as he was tall, with a far more amiable personality than most masters I had encountered over the years. His species was unknown to me; apparently it was a secret of the Order, though none knew why. All knew he was considered to be the wisest of the masters and most deferred to his judgment.
The other two council members were Master Zhar, a Twi'lek from Ryloth and our foremost instructor. It was his responsibility to train the young apprentices and he handled the Tests not only for Padawan but Knight as well. Lastly, was Master Dorak, the historian of the enclave. A dark-skinned native of Malastare, he was an enthusiastic student of ancient lore. He had little to do with full-time training, but all the students sat at his knee at some point in their career.
I entered the wide, circular halls of the council chamber just mere moments behind my master. On the front of the chamber was a ring of over a dozen chairs. I never really understood why as the council never seemed to number more than 4 at any given time, but no one had been brave enough to ask. I looked down at my boots as I stood before them. "Masters, to what do I owe this honor?"
Vandar took a step forward to bring himself into eye contact, looking up at me. "How many times must we tell you it is permissible to look up when you enter this chamber, padawan? We cannot have you looking to the floor when you are with us. You will always be running into things."
Slowly, I raised my head, though I could not help but keep my eyes downcast. Master Vrook had always stressed showing respect to the council, especially now that Revan's folly was plain to all. "Yes master, forgive me."
The small figure let out an almost inaudible sigh. "Bastila, we have a task for you."
"I will serve however I can." I could not help but feel some trepidation as I spoke. Most of my recent missions had involved being sent to the front line of some battle where I was needed to desperately stave off a Sith victory. I did not fear for myself. I knew my skills would not fail me. However, one misstep and the Republic would lose its one advantage: me.
Zhar took over the briefing. "We have learned that Revan and Malak will be near Ord Mandell, transferring troops and supplies between their two fleets. We feel this is a perfect opportunity."
My mind reeled at the suggestion. Did they think we could end the war with a lightning attack? I was not aware the Republic had a force capable of taking on both Revan and Malak's forces simultaneously.
Vrook shook his head as if reading my thoughts. "No, padawan. We cannot win this war though military might. Instead, we must take this opportunity to strike at the head of the beast that threatens us."
"We intend to send you leading a covert team of Jedi and Republic SpecOps troops to storm Revan's flagship, the Titan," Zhar continued. "Once there, it is our hope you can capture Revan and bring him here for interrogation."
"Interrogation, masters? I know we do not believe in assassination, but would this not be an ideal opportunity to kill him?" I was confused, this plan held great risk. Capturing a Jedi is infinitely harder than killing one and that was no easy task in and of itself either.
Master Vander looked back up at me. "Surely you have noticed Revan possesses a fleet much larger and more advanced than any in the galaxy, and yet he did not have these ships with him when he vanished. It is this seemingly endless supply of ships, droids, and fighters that is the true enemy in this war. We need to know how Revan has amassed such a force, and the only one who knows all those secrets is undoubtedly him. We need him alive so we may try and bring him back to the Light. With his conversion, we will undoubtedly learn much about his missing years." His ears pulled back and flattened somewhat against the sides of his head. It was clear he had his reservations about this course of action.
"Yes, master. Even the defections from the Republic and conscripts from conquered worlds cannot possibly account for his military might. His tactical genius is bad enough, but with unlimited resources at his command, many feel it is only a matter of time before he overthrows the Republic."
Vrook's stern voice called my attention next. "Then you understand our need for such desperate action. It is much to ask of one so inexperienced, but you are the only one who has even a chance of making this mission successful."
I couldn't quite suppress the swell of pride at his statement. It may not sound like it, but from him, that is quite a compliment. "I will not let you down, masters. Tell me what I am to do."
A few days later, I found myself aboard a stolen Sith troop transport. Aboard were two other Jedi, the human Talen Crais and a Miraluka named Pah'uu Zehn. We were being supported by an entire elite commando team from the Republic led by one Lieutenant Dev, an Alderaanian by birth, and yet somehow he wound up in command of a deadly team of elite soldiers; unusual for someone from a world renowned for its pacifistic beliefs.
Our ship came smoothly out of hyperspace near the re-supply point. The silvery hulls of the Titan and the Leviathan shone in the distance. The strange curved indentation, almost like that of a maw, was like nothing seen before. Crais piloted the cargo ship towards our destination. His long brown hair was pulled back into a tight braid that ran halfway down his back. He transmitted the docking codes to the auto-targeting Point Defense Cannons that protected the ship from heavy fighter attack. A simple acknowledgement was sent and we were aboard.
Once docked, the commandos triggered a small "accident" with the engines that gave us cover to leave the ship and make our way to the nearby turbolift while the bay crews struggled to contain the fire and coolant spilling out across their deck. We arrived on the bridge level, and had to fight our way through a heavy contingent of droids and guards to reach the bridge itself. We lost most of our troopers in the assault, but we made it to the bridge blast door. Zehn and I covered Lt. Dev as he planted a shaped charge on the locking mechanism and gained us access to the bridge.
Waiting for us were three Dark Jedi, clad in the grey and black jumpsuits, complete with rather ridiculous facemasks. Crais, Zehn, and I leapt upon them, sabers in hand. It was first battle with a Dark Jedi, but I knew it would not be my last. A certainty filled me, that no matter what, we would win the day. I could not enter a full Battle Meditation trance but I tried to channel a little of my confidence into my comrades. In a matter of moments, we prevailed as our enemies fell at our feet. Lt. Dev threw a couple of grenades into the crew pits, removing any other possible reinforcement. We were alone, just us and our quarry.
It was the first time I ever actually saw him, that day. We had never met, though I Malak did come to Dantooine once to try and persuade some of us to join their cause. Naturally, I heeded the wisdom of the Council. For the entire skirmish, he had just stood with his back to us, looking out the viewport at the stars, Malak's Leviathan just a few hundred meters off our starboard. He slowly turned around and raised his hand. Before me, Lieutenant Dev collapsed to the deck, gasping for air as unseen hands choked the life from him.
Darth Revan, the fallen Knight, garbed in his battle armor, face hidden behind that Sith mask drew his crimson blade and moved into a dueling stance, holding it just above his head, as he waited for my team and I to approach, mocking us. As I looked across the walkway to the Sith Lord, I took an aggressive stance myself and challenged him. "You cannot win, Revan," I boldly proclaimed, flanked by my fellow Jedi. I had never met them before that mission, and that brief time was all that I would have with them.
In the next instant, a barrage of cannon fire slammed into the bridge. I recognized it as coming from Malak's Leviathan. The pupil was betraying the teacher, as the Sith traditions had long mandated. Malak must have thought he could rid himself of his master and some Jedi in one fell swoop. For an ambitious Sith, the choice would have been an easy one.
Somehow I survived, unscathed. The rest of the crew was not so lucky. Zehn had been impaled by a bridge support beam. Crais was burned alive as one of the blasts passed close by him. It must have missed me by barely a meter. I glanced forward. The viewport had been annihilated. Some kind of emergency force field had snapped into place, preventing us from being sucked into the vacuum of space. Another one of the miracles these strange alien vessels were capable of. Where DID Revan get them?
I glanced down and saw the crumpled form of the Dark Lord, lying on the deck. I crawled my way over to him. Darkness ever turns upon itself, I thought. Evil such as this can only end in death.
That's when I felt it: that last flicker of the Force still burning in his body. I couldn't believe it. Somehow, he had survived the brunt of the attack. I looked over him and could see a blood stain matting down the hood of his cloak. A head injury… I must know how bad it is. I pulled his mask off and the breath caught in my throat.
Even now, I'm not certain what I expected him to look like. Many of those who follow the Dark Side sport deformities of some kind, as the darkness eats away at their bodies like a cancer. Yet as I looked down as the most feared Dark Lord of the Sith since Exar Kun, I saw a face, clear of hatred, of anger, of evil. He was a not unattractive human male, with long dark hair that stopped just above his shoulders. His eyes were half-closed, but I could see they were a bluish-grey. His face was smooth and calm, despite the trail of blood. Unconscious, defenseless, with all his walls and shields gone, stripped bare of whatever events had driven him down this path, his face was serene… almost innocent. He was nothing like I would have expected.
Forcing my attention back to the situation at hand, I examined him. His eyes were shut. His long brown hair was pulled back and the left side of his head was stained with blood. A piece of transparisteel from the viewport had driven its way into his skull. I could not fathom the extent of the damage done to his brain. His injury was great; it was very likely he was permanently brain damaged and all I had come for was lost. The ship was beginning to fall apart around me. I could move faster if I left him behind. Surely the Council would not fault me for this. He was obviously dying.
But as I looked into that face, and once again felt the last flicker of life within him, something moved me. There WAS a chance he could live, however small, in whatever condition. I could save him… I took his head in my hands and let the Force reach out. I could feel the Darkness that had claimed him, that had led him to conquer dozens of worlds and kill millions of people. At first, I recoiled in horror. How could I possibly allow a monster such as this to continue? He deserved death for all he has done! But I felt it again, that last hint of life, pulsing steadily. It was at the heart of the dark miasma that was the mind of Darth Revan; a faint spark of Light that the darkness could not smother.
I reached out, through the darkness, to take that spark and wrapped it in my own Force. I breathed life into it, the way you breathe air into a drowning man. I could feel the spark grow, slowly. Soon it became faint but steady. The darkness around it seemed to thin. I couldn't help but think of it as an analogy for the power of the Light to banish the Dark Side. I felt incredibly proud of myself at that moment, I had saved Darth Revan. Thanks to me, our first real break in the war had come at last. I gathered his limp form and carried him back to our ship.
Little did I know the price I would pay for my actions that day.
The return to Dantooine was arduous. Our little accident meant that the ship had limited capabilities. Additionally, as a cargo freighter, its medical facilities were rather inadequate to the task of maintaining Revan. Escaping was easy. With Malak's betrayal, the Titan was crippled and incapable of mounting an assault. I kept the bulk of the ravaged warship in the Leviathan's targeting sensors as cover while the navicomputer loaded the present jump coordinates for Dantooine. I was fortunate that Malak had been arrogant enough to assume his initial assault killed us all. If he had ordered the interdictor fields on his ship activated, things would have gone much more poorly.
Revan himself proved the major hurdle. It was a 30 hour trip back to the enclave and their was no life support equipment capable of maintaining him. I laid him out on one of the bunks and rested on the floor beside him. I took his hand and let myself drift into a meditative trance. I called upon what healing abilities I had to funnel as much of the Force as I could through me and into him. The spark I had felt earlier was still there, but it was still weak. I reached into his mind reluctantly at first, and found a jumbled mass of half-formed images. His mind was in chaos, possibly permanently damaged. Not knowing what to do, I just held on to him and let the Force flow through us both.
When I arrived back at the enclave, I was greeted by a team of healers, waiting at the base of the ramp. They spirited the fallen Sith away to the medical chamber on the lower levels of the Enclave. I was taken immediately to the Council chambers. As I stood there, blood and ash still caked upon my face, I told the masters what had transpired. Master Vrook, in a rare display, looked upon me with pride. "You have done well, Bastila. It is a pity he could not be taken intact, but the fact that you managed this despite everything is a testament to your dedication." At the time, that was the happiest moment of my life, not that I showed it. Master Vrook would not have approved of that at all, and I did not want to ruin that moment with an inappropriate display.
A week later, Master Vandar informed me that though the fragment of transparisteel was safely removed, but there were complications. "His mind is badly damaged, padawan. Your ministrations kept him from dying, but what is left is shattered fragments."
"Is there nothing we can do, master?" I was apprehensive. Too many good people had died for this to come to naught. Surely the Force would not allow this man to perish after all I had done to save him.
The elder Jedi bowed his head in contemplation. "There is something. It is a slim chance, but it is all we have. But it will not be easy, and we will require your assistance."
A brief mental deep breath was required before I could dare speak. "Me? What can I do that you and the others cannot?"
Master Vandar began to circle the edges of my room. "When you saved his life, Bastila, you formed a connection with him, closer than any of us could manage in such a short time. You have made inroads into his psyche that we will need to attempt to heal his mind. With you as a conduit, we hope to heal his mind, or failing that, at least grant him rudimentary abilities to care for himself."
A connection, with the Dark Lord of the Sith? That certainly did not sound endearing, but if this was what was needed to end the war it was the least I could do. "Of course, master. Whatever I can do to aid, I shall."
"Excellent. Come to the medical bay tomorrow and we shall begin." As he left, I felt the tiniest rumbiings in the Force. I knew what was about to happen would change my life. I felt that I would finally be proven to the council, and that I would be allowed to take the Trials after such a success. My life was heading exactly where I wanted it.
The procedure was long and difficult. The Masters had me join with Revan in the same sustaining trance I had used to bring him here, but this time, they were joined with me. I was merely an observer, but I could feel their power flowing through me and it was almost intoxicating. Not only that, I could feel the spark that was Revan reach out to this power.
What happened next was shocking to say the least. As their power reached that faint light it suddenly flared to life. It became a beacon, shining in the darkness. No, that wasn't right. Because the darkness wasn't abated, it too grew in depth. I had never seen someone so powerful in the Force before. The light touched me and I felt some of those memories pass through me. I saw Revan talking to his master, and elderly woman named Kreia. I saw him leading men into battle on Dxun. I saw him arguing bitterly with Malak over something I couldn't quite hear. It all rushed by me, his life, his thoughts, his power. It was overwhelming.
The touch of Master Zhar's mind reached out to me and helped me calm myself. I could… almost feel what they were thinking. It wasn't words, it wasn't images, but something in between. His mind was too badly damaged. Repairing the fractured mirror that was his memory would take months if not years. It was silently agreed to merely try and implant a basic personality so that he could live out his days in a convalescence facility on Coruscant, capable of feeding and cleaning himself if not much else.
I could not help but feel sorry for him. Even though Revan had caused all this death and destruction around us, I pitied him. To live out ones life as little more than a child mentally, all that potential, all that power wasted. He could have been the greatest of us.
I opened myself to the others as they began to try and slowly heal Revan's psyche. Yet as they worked, I sensed their growing confusion. I struggled to make sense of what was transpiring, when it became clear. His mind was healing, yet the fragments were not. We all watched in silent wonder as a new tapestry wove itself on the frame of his soul. The new image that appeared was not one of Revan, Jedi Knight or even Darth Revan, but of another person entirely!
Slowly, the masters severed their connection to me. Soon I too left my trance and looked up in amazement. "Masters, how is this possible?"
The four of them looked back and forth. Zhar and Dorak had a looks of amazement. Vander appeared thoughtful, while Vrook's brow creased in worry. "We do not know, padawan. What has happened here is unexpected and troubling. Go and rest. We will let you know of what we find." And with that, my master dismissed me.
I returned to my quarters, but I did not sleep for some time. I sat and tried to meditate on what had occurred, but I could not. Something had happened the masters had not foreseen, and it both troubled and excited me. I was witness to something amazing, even for a Jedi. My excitement was misplaced, however.
I heard nothing for the next several days, and all my gentle inquiries were rebuffed. Finally, Master Vrook summoned me before the Council. He was straight and to the point. "It would seem, Bastila, that Revan is no more. After waking up, we spoke to him, and he insists that he is Veran Shadowfyre, a scout for the Republic Exploratory Corps."
It took all my control to keep from looking too shocked. "How is this possible? Did such a man exist?"
"We do not know, which troubles us. This should not have been possible." My master sounded highly displeased.
Dorak answered my second question. "Yes. We found a dossier for one Lieutenant Veran Shadowfyre, of Derallia. He was recalled to active duty in the Republic navy as a pilot and advance scout and died when his picket ship inadvertently stumbled across Malak's outer perimeter during the engagement not far from Dagobah last month."
"Does he actually remember any of this?"
"Fortunately, no. All he recalls is the ship being hit and falling unconscious. We have persuaded him that he survived, but suffered head trauma and spent the last month in a coma from which he has just come out of."
I tilted my head in puzzlement. "But what about his appearance. Surely he will realize he does not look the same."
"We shared that concern as well, but when presented with a mirror, he seemed to find nothing amiss." Master Vander noted. "This is become stranger and stranger all the time, and yet we have no reason to believe he is not sincere. We have searched their background thoroughly. They never served together, or even met as far as we can tell. Revan and this man seem to have no connection whatsoever, other than the fact that their names seem to be an anagram of each others."
"That is good to know, masters. What will be done with him now? I'm certain he will not want to stay with us long, given his recovery. Can we risk him leaving the enclave? We should find some way to keep him under surveillance."
My master finally spoke. "Indeed, young padawan. We have had Republic records altered to reflect his current status. The bureaucrats have been convinced it was merely a clerical error, and he will be returned to active duty. From there, we will have him assigned to missions where you may keep an eye on him."
My blood turned to ice. "Me? Master, if I may be so bold, why would you assign this to me? Surely one of the other masters would be better suited to such a task."
Vandar stepped forward. "We have selected you because we have sensed that a bond has formed between you and Revan. Our attempt to heal his mind strengthened the connection your life-saving action formed, and now we feel the two of you are linked, much as master and apprentice sometimes are."
I had heard of such things, but never experienced it personally. Master Vrook was very careful to stay distant and detached as a mentor. "Can this connection not be severed?"
"With time and distance, we believe it would eventually fade, though nothing is certain. I understand your reluctance in this, Bastila, but we require your cooperation, since this does, however, present us with the chance we have been searching for."
"A chance for what, Master? If his memory is gone, then what use is he to us?"
"The mind is not always as clear-cut as medical science would have us believe. There is a chance that much of his knowledge is still buried within his subconscious mind, as flashes and vague half-memories. Given that you are now attuned to each other, there is a chance you can pull some much needed clues from him."
"Your new mission is this, Bastila: Assume command of the Republic ship, the Endar Spire, and rendezvous with the Republic 7th Fleet. We will assign Veran aboard as an advisor to your party. Hopefully, as the fleet pursues the Sith, things will become clearer. If not, then we have lost nothing more than some effort. Understood?"
"Yes, Master. I am honored to serve the Council thus. I shall make ready to leave at once."
Master Vrook nodded to me. "Watch him carefully, Bastila. Even without his memory, he is still Force Sensitive. If he should show any sign of returning to his old self, report it immediately. Do whatever is necessary to keep the Dark Lord from rising again."
"Understood, Master." As I left, I began to look forward to the assignment. Not only was I being given command of a ship, but I was given the task of unlocking the mind of the one of the most powerful Jedi who had ever lived. With successful completion of this assignment, I would surely be given my Knighthood!
I was such an ambitious, arrogant fool…