Chapter Twenty Nine-Meridian Sector
"Something up?"
Revan ignored the question as she lowered herself into the co pilot's chair, wrapping her robe tightly about her legs. The chill of deep space pervaded the small cockpit, despite the thickness of the ships hull and the heating that flowed within the rooms and corridors. She stared out of the large oblong window, gazing almost hypnotically at the spiralling cerulean vortex that encircled them, a sign that they were travelling through deep hyperspace.
She closed her eyes to the sight, and let her mind empty of conscious thought. The steady rumble of the ships engines slipped away to nothingness while the swirl of thoughts of the minds of the others grew in intensity. The Zabrak was always a hard one to read, his thoughts were distant, out of focus almost, but his unwavering loyalty to the Exile compensated. Take two from the ten, add six, take one, add three to the deck, plus four…Atton's litany ran in a steady stream beneath the Mandalorians cursing, Ke nu jurkad sha Mando'ade, di'kutla ad'ika!
Revan listened for a while, then pushed the rapid thoughts from her head. She slowly allowed the rumble of the ship to ease back into her consciousness, with it came the slight nausea that she had felt over the few weeks. She ran a hand over the slight bump of her stomach, and pulled her robes tighter around her, thankful for the loose material that hid her secret.
"Say, you alright Revan?"
She glanced at the brown haired man sat across from her. Atton. She was still unsure of him. He masked his thoughts carefully, and despite being a Jedi, he still had that cocky self-assured air of a pilot about him, and his conversation ranged from consideration, to abrupt anger and petulance. "I'm fine, Atton," she replied succinctly as she turned her head away from him and faced the window.
The sound of heavy feet shuffling behind her, and the smack of metal on metal announced the large Mandalorians presence. Zuka waited patiently, feeling somewhat out of his depth on a ship semi filled with non-Mando'ade. He eyed Atton critically; his orders had been to ensure that Revan and her message were delivered to the Republic safely. After a month on board, he felt a slight degree of apathy and cabin fever course through him. He missed the companionship and order of his fellow warriors. The need to fight something, anything grew impatiently inside him. Yet he still waited on Revan patiently, in spite of his inner turmoil.
"Revan," he queried, staring at the back of the blonde Jedi's head.
"Oh what now? You still here?" Atton grimaced at the blue clad Mandalorian stood near the console screen of the galaxy map. "Haven't you got anything better to do than hang around?" he turned to Revan, "Must your Kath hound follow you like a love sick pup?"
"Di'kut!" Zuka replied scathingly.
"Huh, what did he just say?" Atton glanced at Revan, and saw the slow smile toy at her lips.
"He called you a dick head, Atton. I do wonder if the analogy fits." She swivelled in her seat, grinning as she saw the frown tug lines across his brow.
Atton glared at the impassive Mandalorian, "Oh he did, did he?"
"Tion'gar duraani Ni, burc'ya?" Zuka shifted on the balls of his feet, his hand clenching into a fist.
Atton shook his head, his eyes fixed narrowly on the warrior, "What was that?" his hand crept to the saber at his side.
Revan stood to her feet, and waved a hand loosely in the air, "Whoa boys, easy." She suppressed the laugh that she felt internally. She walked across to the Mandalorian, and laid her hand on his arm, "In future, speak Basic, not Mando'a," she chastised him, "and you shouldn't bait Atton, this has been a long journey for all of us." She turned and pointed towards the pilot, "And you, don't act so damned innocent Atton."
A boyish smile creased his face, wrinkling fine lines around the edges of his deep brown eyes, "Innocent?" he laughed, "that's one word you could never associate with me."
Her hazel eyes flashed knowingly, "That is very true Atton, especially after recent and not so recent events." She tugged her robe closer around her body, "Zuka…I have just the thing you need to take out some of your frustration…"
"Huh Revan; is there a Mandalorian that you wouldn't bang?" Atton replied tetchily.
Revan half turned, anger flashing across her features. She felt a hand tentative on her shoulder and a low voice in her ear, "Ignore the Di'kut Revan, don't give him the pleasure of a response."
She squared her shoulders, and strode out of the cockpit. If that was a few years ago Atton, I wouldn't hold back, you would be dead before the last syllable passed your lips.
Zuka paused in the aisle, "Tion'ad hukaat'kama Atton?" Who's watching your back Atton? He grinned inside his blue helm at the pilot's discomfort, and followed Revan out of the cockpit.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bao-dur blamed himself. He held the hydro spanner loosely in his hand, and frowned. The General, my General and I have left her again, despite my promise to her. Bao-dur sighed quietly, he should have disobeyed her order to return to Republic space; he understood that she had done so because she trusted him to get the message to the Admiral, but the further they travelled from her, the less certain he was that her decision was right. But the General has always been correct in her choices, I must not doubt her.
Bao-dur turned from the scaffolding that lined the one wall of the garage, and walked slowly across to the workbench, the T3-M4 droid following behind. He slammed the spanner down against the bench, and breathed through his teeth. I should have disobeyed her. Bad things seem to happen to her when I'm not around. With effort, he pushed the thoughts away to the back of his mind, the Jedi Mical is with her-she will be safe with him and the Mandalorians, and at least she is spared from Atton's influence…
"Dwooot breeee doo deeet?"
He glanced down at the astromech utility droid, "What's that?" he said irritably as T3 broke his train of thought.
"Broooo deeeep bree dooot," the droids flat circular head swivelled up and down, the round blue sensor flashing.
Bao-dur frowned, "See? That's not normal droid behaviour. When did you last have a memory wipe?"
"Brreeeep doooot broooo deet!"
"Whoa T3, there's no need for that!" Bao-dur exclaimed indignantly, "Let me take a look at you…"
The droid backed away from him in alarm.
"Maybe you have some wires come loose. Look, I won't hurt you."
"Dweert dooo brooop?" T3 enquired warily.
"This won't take long," he knelt on the floor and unscrewed the front panel on the droids chassis. Several wires were blackened and some of the small circuits were charred. "What happened to you….it looks like you took some blaster fire here," he probed the wires with a screwdriver, "and here." Who has been tampering with the droid?
Bao-dur stood, and opened a drawer on the workbench, selecting a few spare wires and circuits. He knelt and faced the droid, his fingers deftly replacing the burnt out wiring. He screwed the panel back in place, and patted T3 absently as he got to his feet, "How does that feel now?"
"Brreeeeep broooooop deet," T3 responded happily.
The Zabrak glanced at the droid, "So you have regained some neural functionality? That is good."
Bao-dur stared across the garage, and smiled as an idea struck him. He turned from the droid and headed towards the cargo hold.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"It's simple Zuka. We will spar with each other, much the same as what you practise in the battle circle."
Zuka grumbled deep in his helm, "With you, Revan?"
Revan laughed as she undid the belt around her waist, "No lightsaber, no Force, just hands and feet…for now. That is if you are up to the challenge, Mandalorian?"
"I have no problem with that, as long as you keep to your side of the deal." He watched as Revan took off her brown outer robe, and faced him, her poise ready for hand-to-hand combat. "This will be too easy, Revan," he gloated.
She smiled at him, and tugged her blonde hair from her face, fastening it in a band that she wrapped around the back of her head. "Ready, Zuka? First one to hit the ground is out."
Zuka grinned in his helmet, and waited for her to make the first move.
Revan circled him warily, her hands curled into loose fists. She glanced sideways and watched as the Mandalorian followed her gaze, then she whacked him across the side of his head. She backed away from him grinning.
Zuka shook his head, his ears still ringing, and he snaked an arm out, punching her shoulder hard. He followed with a smack to her upper arm, then a blow to her legs with a booted foot.
She stumbled slightly, then twisting around quickly; she kicked at his chest with her foot, watching as he tottered. She gave him a backhand to the side of his head, and placing her hands on his shoulders, she pushed him hard from her.
Zuka growled, and lashed out with a fist, the blow connecting solidly with her cheek. He spun around, and kicked at her, landing a blow on her thigh, shoving her several steps backwards. She leapt at him, both feet landing on his chest; the momentum toppled him to the ground, where he landed heavily. Revan stood above him, smiling as she extended her hand to him.
"Flaming hell Revan," he grunted as he accepted her hand, and allowed her to tug him to his feet. "Best of three?"
She gazed at him thoughtfully, her hand rubbing at her cheek, "Okay, best of three. But I am already one ahead of you Mando."
Zuka raised his arms defensively, his hands bunched tightly. Damned Jetii. He watched as she came at him, her face a mask of tight concentration. She thrust at him, and he deflected the blow with his arm. She circled him, her eyes glittering as she pondered her next move. Zuka came at her, his fists landing blows across her chest and shoulders.
Revan winced, and ignored the flow of Force power that streamed through her, No Force powers…she intoned in her mind, as she felt the familiar tug. She snaked out a leg and tripped him; he recovered quickly, and with a quick movement, he landed his right fist against her, while he struck out with his left leg. He laughed as she stumbled, and he pushed against her chest.
Revan fell to the floor with a hard bump, landing on her backside. She stared up at him and raised her hand. He lowered his gloved hand to hers, and was surprised when she leant back and pulled him abruptly. Overbalanced, he toppled to the ground beside her. Revan got to her feet quickly, and grinned down at him, "Two to me, one to you Mandalorian."
Zuka chuckled as he raised his fists, "It isn't over yet, Revan."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Atton leaned back in the pilot's chair, his boots resting on the top of the console, the soles pressing lightly against the window. His eyes were closed, although he was not asleep. He was counting cards. "Minus six, plus four, plus five," the recitation ran on in a never-ending circle, while deep down past the looped surface thoughts, he considered recent events.
He was finally free of her, and her influence. The dark ghost from his past had finally lain to rest. He had never known her name in life; it was in death that she had revealed who she was. Atton wondered if it had been real at all-it all seemed like some bad dream, one that he had been slow to awaken from.
A sigh escaped his parted lips, and the frown lines eased from his brow. Peace. For the first time he understood what that really meant, and from such a simple word that he had never comprehended, or known before. Aliana was at rest as was his former persona, Jaq.
Now he was just Atton Rand, Jedi Sentinel, pilot and scoundrel. He smiled- he liked the sound of that. In fact, he liked it a lot.
Atton opened his eyes, and ran a hand through his dark hair, staring at the spiralling vortex that peeked from between his brown boots. He slid his legs down, and got to his feet, grimacing as he felt the stiffness in his shoulders and lower back that eight hours in the chair had brought. A spell in the 'fresher was what was needed.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bao-dur struggled with the awkward, heavy crate as he made his way from the cargo hold to the garage. After an hours searching, and rummaging around in the various containers in the hold, he had finally found what he had been searching for. The surprise was that it was all still there. He had wondered if his box of toys would be discarded as junk.
T3 rolled next to him, full of curious beeps and whistles.
Bao-dur dropped the crate next to the workbench, and rubbed the life back into his numb fingers with his metal hand. "I should have thought of this sooner," he said to the small droid absently as he opened the crate. His eyes gleamed as they pored over the contents in the box.
"Beep doot dree?"
He raised his eyes, and glanced at the droid, "All in good time, just be patient," he replied softly.
T3 regarded him curiously, his flat head swivelling as he watched the Zabrak pull a small circular object from out of the crate. "Dweeeet dooooo?"
Bao-dur rose to his feet, and placed the sensor ball on the workbench. "She will need this," he smiled fondly; "She asked me once, a long time ago if I would make her one. I guess that I should have done so then-but there was no time, life was rushing us by, bringing us, her to the darkness that threatened. I don't want her to walk alone in the dark again. Maybe with this," he held the sensor ball up in one hand, "she will always have some light, and a reminder that I am not far behind."
He lowered the ball to the table, and picked up a small fine bladed screwdriver. Several screws fell to the tabletop, and he prised the sensor ball into halves glancing at the wiring and components.
T3 settled himself solemnly next to the workbench, and watched the Zabrak as he worked.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The unrelenting heat of the sun bore down on the parched baked earth, bleaching the sand blasted skeletons that lay strewn across the ground. White skulls grinned manically, sockets large and gaping, bones picked clean of flesh. A faint breeze whirled coarse grains of red sand into the air, where they fell minutely against the columns that rose out of the scorched terrain like fingers reaching for salvation. Geometric designs embellished the stonework, their lines etched deeply, casting small shadows as the sun lit them from behind.
Revan opened her eyes, and squinted at the sudden bright light. She sat up slowly; sweat beading her brow as she took in her surroundings. Korriban. Rising to her feet, she became aware of the brown robed man sat on a fallen pillar. The heel of one boot rested on a long crack that ran horizontally through the stone, his arms folded against his knee. He watched her intently, as his other boot scraped idly against the rough masonry.
"Why have you come again Malak?"
Malak stared at her, a small smile on his pale thin lips, "This is just another vision Revan." He slid off the column, and walked towards her, his boots crunching loudly on the dry earth. He extended a long pale hand to her, "Come, there is something that you should see."
She glanced at him, and placed her hand in his warily. "What is it that you want to show me? You have already shown the future to me…what might have been. But I have stopped that…"
Malak shook his head, "No, it is the present and near future that I wish to show you." He gripped her hand, and led her across the rough terrain, past the ancient desecrated tombs of the old Sith Lords. He stopped, and placed a hand on her shoulder, turning her slightly so that she faced away from him.
Revan stared at the large shape of the Ebon Hawk. The sun glinted sharply off the battered hull, spirals of grey smoke rose lazily into a sky of purest sapphire.
"The ones that travel with you on this ship; they all carry their own part in the near future. Do not dismiss them so lightly." Malak glanced past her. "Watch, Revan…"
The figure of a woman stepped through the low rubble, stumbling as her foot tripped her. Dark hair cascaded around her shoulders as she fell to her knees. Behind her, five black figures rippled into existence, crimson blades pointing towards her. The Exile gained her footing, and lit the saber in her hand, twisting round as she struck at the nearest Sith. She backed away from them, unaware that five more Sith emerged. She arced her saber, the blade flashing yellow, as she gave futile battle to the numbers that amassed around her. A red blade flashed and she fell, the Sith closing in on her.
A black robed form walked towards the throng, "I want her, dead or alive, it does not matter to me anymore. She will not escape me again."
Revan stared at Malak in alarm, "What is this?"
"Korriban rebuilt. The age of a new Sith empire, and the Exiles demise. Things could have been different for her if they had been allowed," he murmured.
She turned and grasped his arm, "But we will fight them, now, and we will win. This will not happen."
Malak looked at her evenly, "It is already happening Revan. The Exile, she denied her life, and never stopped hunting and fighting the Sith, even though her companions died…"
"Her companions…dead?"
"The Zabrak Bao-dur. He had sworn himself to her, to aid her. But he died in the battle to come, and was not there to protect her in the future. But watch again Revan." He pointed to the prone form of the Exile.
Walking beside the Sith Lord, a black clad man strode, his face hidden behind a full visor and red goggles. He knelt before the Exile, the silver dagger in his hand stroking the paleness of her cheek. He looked up at the Lord, and chuckled, "She is not dead…yet. I have time to learn more from her."
The Sith patted him on the head, "You have done well. What with the others dead, betrayed by your own hand, we face little threat now. All we need are the few Jedi that she located…"
The assassin laughed, "They are but apprentices and younglings. I will find them and kill them, my Lord."
Malak gripped Revan's hand, pulling her away from the scene, "There is something else that I want you to see."
Revan tore her eyes from the fallen Exile, and walked uncertainly with him. The harshness of Korriban fell away, giving to the gloomy interior of a battle cruiser.
She turned her face towards the robed man next to her. Malak nodded at her, "Again they follow you…"
Revan walked across the bridge, to the large hulk of man encased in black and silver armour.
Mandalore paced the bridge restlessly, ignorant of the fact that Revan stood near to him. She raised her hand and reached out to touch his shoulder, snapping her hand back as she realised that he would not sense her. A wry smile touched her lips as she regarded the silent warrior.
The turbo lift door opened with a hiss, and she watched as Jennra stepped out. The Jedi walked across to the Mandalore, and lightly touched his arm.
"I have spoken with Ni'veus."
"And?" Mandalore barked out at her.
Revan smiled at the abruptness of the deep familiar voice.
"I trust in what he says. He has promised aid, and he has warned of the others. I believe that while they are a threat, we can overcome them. Revan will have warned the Republic by now, and gathered a fleet of warships under the Admiralty. Ni'veus will stand with us, Mandalore, I am sure of that," Jennra replied quickly.
The Mandalorian stood impassively, "Then let us hope that the Republic is quick to respond. My men are ready for this fight, Exile."
Jennra nodded, "Good. Then let us meet with Ni'veus. We have much to discuss."
Revan stared up at Malak, "Who is this Ni'veus that they have aligned with?"
"He is a Jedi, of sorts. Much more I will not tell you Revan." He ran a long hand across his head, "They are still some distance away, as are the two Sith cruisers that they pursue."
"Then we will succeed," Revan said determinedly, "Two ships are nothing, Malak."
"No, Revan. Do not underestimate them," Malak replied, his eyes chill with warning. "While you count two ships, remember that they are part of a trinity, and the threat is more subtle. You must preserve what you can, what you hold dear to you, and what is dear to others. If you do not…" he shook his head knowingly, "then you will fail."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Zuka stood silently outside the door of the women's dormitory. The sound of low voices, and moaning reached his ears. He slid open the door warily, and strode across the room to where Revan lay asleep on her bunk. He leant over her, watching as her eyes rolled beneath tight closed lids. Her lips parted, as she muttered a name, Malak. The Mandalorian frowned at her from behind his visor.
He observed her as she slept. She slung an arm from beneath the navy sheets and he stepped back, not wanting to awaken her. Zuka turned from her, and quietly prowled the room, his eyes scanning the bedroom for hidden dangers. Content that she slept safe, and that the room was secure, he walked back across to the doorway, sliding the door shut as he resumed his silent watch over her.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Atton grinned as the hot water washed the stiffness out from his shoulders. He soaped his chest, whistling a tuneless song that he had heard once in a disparaging cantina in Nar Shaddaa's red light district. Water sprayed his dark hair flat to his head, and he brushed it out of his eyes as his face was pummelled with moisture.
Mira.
He opened his eyes, cursing as soap stung him, and he reached out blindly for the towel, his fingers grasping it. He wiped at his eyes, and stared at the towel as the former bounty hunters name resounded in his mind.
Mira. Frack it.
He had been so consumed with the Exile recently, that he had forgotten and neglected the flame haired temptress. They had a history together, had been lovers before he had lost his mind. He cursed the Exile silently.
Atton stepped out of the 'fresher and angrily towelled himself dry. He pulled on his trousers, fastening the belt that held his saber tight around his hips. If only I hadn't chased after her, Mira would be with me now…he pulled his shirt on, and tugged the worn boots onto his feet.
He grimaced as he stepped out of the small room, clutching the damp towel in his hand, damn the Exile Jennra.
Atton padded across to the main hold, and slumped in one of the chairs. He towelled his hair dry, then combed his fingers through the unruly mess. If I find her, I will put things right, he decided, the Exile can go lead her life… I want nothing more to do with her. He dropped the towel on the seat next to him, and got to his feet, striding down the small corridor to the cockpit.
Settling himself in the pilot's seat, he stared at the computer console in front of him. His eyes widened as he took in their current position, and he reached across to the comlink, "Revan, I think you might want to see this." He logged out, and keyed into the console, dropping the ship from hyperspace. Atton stared out of the window, as space regained its normal inky blackness, streaked with the silver of star fields.
"What is it, Atton?" Revan breathed sleepily behind him.
He glanced over his shoulder at her, "We have entered the Meridian Sector. I have the coordinates for Telos. We arrive in approximately thirty six hours."
Revan's fingers tightened against the back of Atton's chair as he leaned forward. She both longed and feared this moment. Now it happens, she thought, I only hope we are not too late.