Revan's dark brown eyes took in the chaos of the mass of soldiers and sailors boarding the Endar Spire with interest. Unlike most of the warships he'd seen departing Coruscant, their crew contingents made up of mostly green troops and fresh recruits, the Endar Spire's crew compliment seemed to be made up of mostly older, more experienced men, mostly in their mid twenties to early thirties. He smiled grimly. In peacetime these men would still be considered young, just entering the prime of their lives. Now, in the midst of war, any soldier who lived to see thirty was a senior citizen.
Shading the early morning sun from his eyes with the back of his hand, he threw his pack over his shoulder. As his hand brushed over his belt, he instinctively reached down to the loop where his lightsaber should be. Instead of a cool, metallic cylinder, he felt the rough handle of a heavy combat blaster. He'd known it before, but it had just hung lazily in the back of his head, not fully conscious of it.
I'm not a Jedi anymore.
He wondered if he would ever bear that title again. Dark Jedi or Jedi, he realized his lightsaber had meant so much more to him than being simply a weapon. It had been an ever-present fixture in his life since he built his first when he was only nine. Having it, knowing it was there… it was a safety net. When he wielded it in battle, it became an extension of his arm, a physical manifestation of the power of the Force that flowed through him thicker than blood.
Revan closed his eyes. The Force still coursed through him, a living thing he formed a symbiotic relationship with. Whatever the Jedi had done to his mind, they could never take it away from him. It was in many ways more a part of him than his arm, or any other part of his body. But if this elaborate hoax were to work, if the Jedi Council were truly to be fooled into thinking their mind wipe successful, he would have to cut himself off from it, live without it.
Looking up, he spotted a small group of young men and women boarding the ship, dressed not in Republic uniforms but simple brown robes. The razor sharp eyes that had made him such a deadly pilot in the Mandalorian Wars spotted her, leading the small Jedi procession. Illuminated in the early morning sun, Bastila looked like a dream, the halo of light outlining her slender figure making her appear as a cherub. He wondered if she'd noticed him. Just then, a gust of wind blew over the platform, sweeping her light brown bangs across her face. As she brought her hand up to brush her hair back, she turned her head and he felt her gaze fall over him. She had a serious, mature expression on her face, the passionless stoicism of a true Jedi. But her deep, azure eyes held a childlike innocence, revealing a glimpse of the shy little girl who'd melted his heart years ago. He was struck by an overwhelming urge to protect her, to watch over her just as he had so long ago. There was a haunting sadness in those eyes, just as he remembered on the bridge of his ship before Malak's betrayal and he was struck by guilt, knowing he had placed it there.
His cause had seemed so just when he'd first set off to war, tearing his Jedi robes and throwing them at the feet of the Jedi Council to stride off on his crusade against the Mandalorians. They had to be stopped or the Republic would fall and countless multitudes would suffer. Any doubts of the righteousness of his cause were obliterated whenever he witnessed the aftermath of a Mandalorian assault. They were ruthless, falling from the sky riding their Basilisk War Droids, strafing civilian and military targets alike.
"If the Republic won't come out to fight, we will smoke them out of their miserable holes, one city at a time!"
The words of Mandalore, the warrior leader of the Clans still rang in his ears. The bodies of the dead had piled up in the streets. Some were soldiers. Most were not. Men, women, children, all were fair game to the ruthless Mandalorians. What he did, it had to be done. He had thought himself so selfless and noble at the time, casting off everything he'd ever known as a Jedi, his entire former life left behind to fight.
And then he'd met them and realized the fight against the Mandalorians was never the true war. They'd taken him and made him their slave, used him as a proxy. Seemingly obedient to their will, he'd turned on the Republic, falling on the Jedi like a demon, destroying the Order that had literally raised him almost from birth. But he'd fought back in subtle ways, setting the stage for the day he would throw off their yoke and turn his full fury on them. The light side of the Force may have been the path to true serenity and understanding, but it was only through the darker side that he would have the power to fight. Win or lose, he would have given the galaxy a chance to survive. By focusing on converting Jedi rather than murdering them, he had ensured himself an army to beat back his master if he won. If he lost and the Republic prevailed, the conflict would have strengthened the Jedi and opened their eyes to true power, the power needed to defend the galaxy. But Malak had destroyed it all. All of Revan's planning, his manipulations had been swept away by his former apprentice's mad lust for power and destruction.
Whatever his feelings towards the Jedi and the feeble Republic they served, Revan knew this war had to be fought. Malak had to be stopped. Even if it meant turning his back on everything he'd ever believed in, and seizing the power of the darkness once more as his weapon. But as he looked into her eyes, he was tormented by self-doubt.
But what is it you fight for if in the process you lose that which you cherish most?
"Going out for a breath of fresh air, Revan?"
Revan turned his hand in surprise to see a tall, lanky figure catch up to him in the hall. Malak's cool, gray eyes looked mischievous as he threw an arm over his best friend's shoulder. Cupping the small, wrapped box in his hand behind his back, he shrugged.
"Perhaps. Or maybe I'm getting a drink, or looking for some sustenance. Why does it concern you?"
Malak chuckled softly, not wanting to make too much noise. Curfew at the Jedi Academy would fall in a few minutes and he wasn't sure if being caught out of their rooms might have consequences. Malak was almost a Knight now, a Padawan in name only so there probably wasn't much any of the Jedi Masters could do, but the thought of Master Vrook suddenly appearing from nowhere as he always did didn't exactly appeal to him.
"Because you're lying to my face and I can tell. What's that package you've got behind your back?"
Before Revan could react, Malak had grabbed the package from his hand, a tiny box with a bow on it, a jewelry box. Malak opened it and let out an impressed whistle. Within was a beautiful crystal pendant, carved from a sparkling gem that reflected the soft light through a slightly yellow prism.
"If I'm not mistaken, this is a lightsaber crystal. The focusing crystal of a Sentinel, judging from the color. But it's been cut, useless in a lightsaber now. Not exactly the best use of a crystal if you ask me, although I do appreciate the craftsmanship. What's it for Revan? Unless you've decided to further explore your more feminine side… hmmm, judging from the packaging, I highly doubt it's for you. This wouldn't be a present for a certain blue-eyed apprentice, would it?" Malak winked, eliciting a sigh from his friend.
"Very well, you've caught me. Yes, it's a present for Bastila. It's her birthday in a few days, after all, her fourteenth."
"I'd forgotten. Where'd you get the credits for that anyways? It couldn't have been cheap and if I know you as well as I think I do, you haven't a single credit to your name after Rele's ascension party last week."
Revan laughed. Rele was another Jedi, two years older than Revan but one year younger than Malak. Revan hadn't known much about her, other than she was finishing her trials and about to become a Knight. Twenty-three was slightly young to take the trials, but from what he'd heard, Rele was a Jedi with great potential. Becoming a Knight was an achievement reached by very few but it was something each Padawan usually celebrated privately. Overly grandiose expressions were frowned upon by the Jedi Order. So it had been quite a surprise when Malak had announced he was throwing a party for her. Or rather, it had been a surprise for everyone but Revan. Having known Malak as long as he had, it hadn't taken much for Revan to read Malak's intentions with the frequent side glances he had been shooting Rele.
Romance was forbidden among Jedi, but it had never kept many of the younger Jedi from harmless flirting. The Jedi Masters didn't approve of course, but all any of them could do was shake their heads disapprovingly and dispense a lecture once in a while. Master Vrook had tried more active measures in the past to prevent such activities but there really wasn't anything he could do to fight overactive hormones. Revan, with his princely air, handsome good looks and deep brown eyes elicited dreamy stares from female Jedi often but he had made the decision not to partake in the games.
Malak's attitude was the complete opposite. He was notorious for his boldness towards the fairer sex, charming them with flowers and poems and the like. It wasn't that Malak was some sort of hopeless romantic. Flirting for him was just another game, another challenge to see if his affections would be returned with a nervous giggle or a peck on the cheek. Malak had had his eyes on Rele for months. With her big brown eyes and petite, athletic frame, Revan had to admit she wasn't bad to look at. But she had been more than Malak's equal, playing hard-to-get with him, toying with him constantly. In an act of desperation, Malak had thrown the party for her, hoping to finally win her over. It had been quite amusing to see his overconfident friend shot down, right in front of all his peers. The good-natured Malak hadn't held a grudge, but he had been thoroughly embarrassed, something Revan had warned him was coming his way for some time.
"Well if you know me as well as you believe you do, you should remember I always have something for Bastila on her birthday. Speaking of which, why don't you join me? I'm sure she'd be pleased to see you."
Malak smiled but shook his head.
"Don't be so sure. I don't think she's as fond of me as you think. I think she finds me intimidating or something of the sort. It's difficult being in the presence of one as handsome as myself."
Revan laughed as Malak glared at him.
"I'm glad you find that amusing. I know I'm much better looking than you!"
"Of course, Malak, of course. I'm sure the bald look goes over well with the ladies."
Malak swung at him but missed as Revan gave him a wink.
"She's also incredibly shy, in case you haven't noticed. You're the only one she ever opens up to. Besides, we've got a big day ahead of us tomorrow, and I have to prepare that briefing for Admiral Karath when he arrives. You should think about that as well. When the Jedi Council decides to stop dragging its feet, we'll be ready to join the fight against the Mandalorians, even if the rest of the Order isn't."
Revan nodded. The Jedi Council on Coruscant had been deliberating for months on whether or not to commit the Jedi to battle alongside the Republic. The Mandalore Wars had been raging for almost three years now and the Republic was losing badly. It was hard to get reports from the front on the holonet but it was pretty clear the fierce Mandalorians held the upper hand. As much as Revan wanted to join battle, he was a Jedi and thus subject to the Jedi Council's authority. Unlike Malak though, he was already a Knight, albeit a very young Knight, and he would likely be sent into battle amongst the first wave, something which he enjoyed heckling his friend with quite often. Jedi could wear many colors, developing their skills to fit roles according to their place in the Order. There were Jedi diplomats, Jedi who specialized in healing, Jedi who dedicated themselves as scholars, even Jedi who became great star pilots and used the Force to explore the depths of space. Malak was a warrior, plain and simple. His approach to obstacles was simple. If there was something between him and an objective, he went through it. Tall and powerfully built, he was a fantastic duelist with a lightsaber, more than an equal for even many of the Jedi Masters. He would become a great Guardian someday, possibly even the greatest. Besides Revan of course.
It sounded arrogant, but Revan knew he was the best. As a Jedi, he had potential unseen in generations. His connection to the Force was stronger than any the Order had seen in decades. Combined with his intelligence, it allowed him to learn and advance at a phenomenal rate, attaining full status as a Knight when he was only seventeen, just five years after becoming a Padawan. Malak was fierce with a lightsaber, but Revan knew he was better. No one could beat him. He couldn't explain it. Everything came naturally to him. He hadn't been defeated in the dueling chambers since he was an apprentice. Yet even though he'd naturally been chosen for the role of a Guardian for his martial prowess, he hadn't neglected his ability to use the Force. Naturally charismatic, Revan had already been sent to mediate disputes on several worlds and never failed a mission. There were whispers he was even better as a Consular, using the Force and diplomacy to avert conflict, than a Guardian, leaping into battle lightsaber ablaze. With such gifts, the Jedi Masters warned him often of the dangers of overconfidence and arrogance but as with everything else in life, Revan acted as Revan willed. The responsibilities of holding such power at such a young age weren't lost on him, but they certainly didn't intimidate him.
"Yes, of course my friend. I'll see you tomorrow then?"
Malak nodded clapping him on the shoulder and walked off, his long strides taking him swiftly down the corridor and out of sight. Finding Bastila's dormitory, Revan noticed her lights were off and wondered if she was already asleep. Slowly pushing open the door, he could just barely make out her body in the darkness, sitting cross-legged on her bed. Revan frowned slightly. She wasn't experienced enough to be meditating like this alone. Revan softly whispered her name.
"Bastila?"
Her breathing was ragged and her eyes were closed. A strange look of bliss was on her face. His eyes following the soft curves of her body, he almost thought his heart would stop as he reached through the Force bond he had with her and read her mind. With a little concentration, he was able to see the vision she held in her head.
"What are you doing?" he asked instinctively, already knowing the answer to his question.
Individuals strong in the Force could actually manipulate their dreams, projecting their thoughts and desires into their subconscious, like shooting a holovid. Bastila had always been gifted in the mental aspects of manipulating the Force and Revan had often been amazed at how vivid her dreams could be. But what he saw in her troubled him. He saw himself in her dreams, which didn't surprise him. She dreamt of him often, which seemed to comfort her. But she had never dreamt of him like… this. In her vision, his ethereal form was locked in a passionate embrace with hers, their lips pressed tightly together as her tongue touched his.
She's fantasizing about me. Force help me, I knew I shouldn't have let her watch so many romance holovids.
On some level, he'd always known she'd had a crush on him, probably since she'd hit puberty. But it had never actually registered until now. Bastila shot up in bed, pulling her covers over herself like he was a ghost. Her face flushed a deep red.
"I…" she stammered.
"How long have you been… doing this?" Revan stuttered back.
Oh Bastila… I never realized you felt that way about me…
Her voice was uncertain as she answered, very soft and afraid.
"Since I was twelve, Revan."
Bastila, my Bastila… I never imagined…
Revan gave his best brotherly smile, the awkwardness of the situation causing his own cheeks to warm up.
"Well… it has to stop okay? Don't do it anymore."
"But I don't understand… when I think of you, it just feels right."
Her beautiful blue eyes looked so innocent and pure as she said this and Revan didn't know what to say. He sighed.
"Did you sneak out to watch a holovid again? One of those love stories you adore so much?"
Bastila looked so childlike in the moonlight, still displaying a little baby fat around her cheeks. Revan wanted nothing more than to wrap her in his arms and cradle her.
"One of the other girls took me. I asked Master Vrook about it and he said boys and girls who stupidly fall in love experience such feelings about each other. Then he scolded me and sent me to my room. Are you mad at me, Revan? Please don't be angry!"
The pleading look in her eyes melted his heart. But he silently cursed Vrook for his ineptly foolish explanation.
"I'm not mad at you, baby girl. But we have to talk, okay?"
She nodded, taking a seat beside him on her bed, her legs dangling over the side. As Revan put an arm around her, he was struck by how much she had developed. Bastila had always been his 'little sister', the one he loved more than anything else in the universe. But where he had once towered over her, able to scoop her up in one arm, she had grown several inches, almost to his shoulder. In the pale moonlight, she seemed to grow up right before his eyes.
Although still tiny, she was no longer the rail-thin waif he remembered. He flushed as his eyes traced the curve of her body, over her developing breasts and her round bottom. She was developing into a lovely young woman… Revan tore his eyes away and scolded himself for having such thoughts about her.
"Bastila, we're Jedi. We've been gifted with the power to use the Force. But there are sacrifices we have to make. You're becoming a very beautiful young lady and boys will start noticing you. You're going to start feeling things towards boys that will confuse you. As a Jedi though, these feelings are something we have to give up. You have to learn to fight temptations, even if they feel right. Master Vrook was just looking out for you but he's wrong when he says falling in love is stupid. Love is a beautiful thing. It's just that…"
Revan sighed. He felt like he was trying to give her a father-daughter talk and that was the last thing he wanted. Bastila had been very close to her father before leaving for the Jedi and Revan had always tried to respect that, doing nothing that would seem like he was supplanting him.
"Jedi aren't allowed to fall in love. It's one of the sacrifices we make."
Hearing the words coming out of his own mouth, Revan didn't know whether to laugh or cry. The Jedi philosophy of denial of one's emotions had always been a contentious issue for him, one he'd had many an argument with the Jedi Masters about. Love was something he wasn't willing to give up and yet here he was telling Bastila to do exactly that.
"But Revan, I don't feel anything for any of the boys my age. I love you. I know you're always there for me and you would never hurt me. Do… Do you love me, Revan?"
Revan felt himself becoming misty eyed as he looked down at her, brushing her light brown hair from her face. He put both arms around her and pulled her to him, planting a tender kiss on the top of her head.
"Of course, sweetheart. But not in that way. It's… it's not allowed."
She looked so beautiful in his embrace, staring up at him with deep azure eyes that pierced him to his very soul. Before he could react, she reached her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. Eyes widening in surprise, he found himself returning the kiss, his tongue exploring the inside of her mouth.
Where did she ever learn to kiss like that…wait… what am I doing? This is forbidden it's… I have to stop this…
She pulled away before he could move and just smiled shyly.
"I'm sorry, Revan. I just wanted to know what it was like… I'm sorry, it won't happen again. But do you ever wonder… what if we weren't Jedi? Could you ever fall in love with me?"
Not for the first time that night, Revan found himself lacking for words. Unsure of what to say, he awkwardly patted her on the arm.
"It's not our place to speculate about how things could be. As much as we may wish things to be different, we live in this universe, we must focus on what is, not what if."
The smile slowly faded from her face.
"I… I understand."
Seeing her shoulders slumping, Revan gave her a friendly hug, bringing his lips close to her ear.
"It's your birthday in a few days. I got you something," he whispered. Pulling the little box from behind his back, he flipped it open, holding it out to her. Her eyes seemed to light up brighter than the pendant when she saw it.
"Revan… I… I don't know what to say!"
He grinned like a fool.
"Just say you like it."
"I love it. But… how did you ever afford this? I can't take this, it must have cost you a fortune."
Revan laughed softly as he shook his head.
"Actually, it didn't cost me anything. At least it didn't cost me anything in credits, if that's what you mean. Time-wise and uh… effort-wise it was a little more expensive than I thought it would be."
"You made it!" she asked in surprise.
"It took me forever to find something that could cut solid crystal, and even longer to learn how to carve. The Council would expel me if they knew how many lightsaber crystals I destroyed before perfecting the one in your hand," he chuckled, gesturing to the iridescent crystal she cradled in her palm. Bastila frowned slightly.
"Lightsaber crystals? This is a lightsaber crystal? Where… how did you get lightsaber crystals?"
Revan smiled, thinking of the nasty looking gash running down his forearm.
Note to self, touch up on Form III defensive stance to prevent similar incidents in the future.
"Don't worry, I didn't steal them from Master Dorak. There are caves here on Dantooine where they form naturally. Unfortunately, these caves are also home to more than a few kinrath cave spiders. I knew this gift would cost me much in time, but I never figured it would also cost me in blood."
He chuckled. Bastila looked at him in disbelief. Smiling, Revan took the pendant from her hand.
"Turn around," he whispered. As she did, he gently clasped the silver chain attached to the pendant around her slender neck.
"It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Whatever did I do to deserve such a gift?"
Revan took her hands in his and kissed them lightly. His eyes began to glisten again.
"Nothing, it's your birthday. Just remember this: You're always going to be my baby girl, no matter if you're four, fourteen, or twenty-four. Happy birthday, Bastila."
Revan shook his head angrily at the memory. That was the last time he saw her before the Mandalorian Wars. Two weeks later, an angry, defiant Revan had stormed into the High Council chambers in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant and tore his Jedi robes from his back, casting them at the feet of the Jedi Masters, daring them to stop him from defying them and joining the war.
Brokenhearted at his self-imposed exile, Bastila had never been the same. Driven by a need to become what he could not, to fulfill his destiny as the Order's greatest Jedi, she'd given herself completely over to her teachers. Even far away, on the frontlines of the Mandalorian Wars, as far from the Academy at Dantooine as he could be without leaving the galaxy, Revan had heard legends of her exploits, rivaling his previously unheard of progress as a Jedi. He only saw her once more before he seized the mantle of Dark Lord. It was like a part of her had died.
And I killed her. I killed my love, the one I swore would never come to harm while I lived.