It's been a day since they left the planet Malak refers to as Lehon, and the atmosphere on the ship is still unbearably tense. Carth sulks, Mission greases her blasters, and HK regularly enquires about whether or not she has changed her mind about his offer of evisceration of 'Meatbag Prime', who, in turn, carefully avoids the three of them and lurks in the starboard dorm in holey pyjamas. Canderous refrains from any comment on the subject. Juhani keeps her composure but has withdrawn completely, and Revan wonders if her friend is beginning to doubt her as well or if the memories of her own fall are simply too much to bear. Jolee takes it on the chin and even checks on Malak from time to time, but Revan notices his air of wistfulness, the way he sighs to himself when he thinks no one can hear.
It's her fault. All of it. It's her fault Jolee's sad, it's her fault Mission's scared, it's fault Carth won't talk to her and it's her fault Malak fell and the galaxy burns. And the worst part of it? There's no way to make it right. She couldn't kill Malak on the Star Forge, and Force knows she can't ask them to forgive him. She can't ask them to forgive her either, because given the same choice, there's a good chance she would do it again. There's no trick, no quick fix. And that's the thing about war, isn't it? There's no happy ending.
So she just sits there in the main hold, staring at an old datapad, unable to focus on anything she reads.
"Your eyes are gonna dry out if you keep staring at that thing without blinking."
It's Jolee. She offers him a rueful smile.
"I didn't see you there."
He sits down next to her, and she's thankful for the company.
"Oh, I know you didn't. You've been thinking too much, kid."
"And you haven't?"
Jolee sighs.
"Alright, you got me. But that doesn't mean you should do the same, does it?"
"Why not? It's my fault it all happened in the first place."
"Is it? I was under the impression the dark side was far older than you. Or even me, for that matter. Who would have thought?"
Revan snorts.
"I guess. But it's my fault this time."
"Maybe. Maybe not. There's no point in assigning blame, kid. The past can give you clues to understand the present, but you can't go back and change it. What matters is what you do now and what you'll do next."
"And what would you do?" she asks.
"I think we've established it's not my place to give advice on those matters."
Revan's eyes widen.
"That might be the first time I hear you say that."
"Yes, well… if you'd been paying attention to my stories, I wouldn't need to say it. I've made mistakes myself, and I have no lessons to give you on this account."
"So you think I'm making a mistake, then?"
"No, I don't think you are but I wish… I wish I were as good as forgetting as I claim to be."
"Oh. Want to trade?"
Jolee simply shakes his head, and there is a short silence after that.
"Is this… is this about your wife?"
"Ah… and there I thought I was being cryptic. Maybe you did pay attention after all."
"I don't see what that has to do with our current situation."
Or maybe she doesn't want to see.
"Oh, give me a break, kid. I spared her. You spared him. And I keep telling myself…I just hope the stories diverge from now on."
"Wait, are you implying…"
"I'm not implying anything you didn't say yourself, and before you get on your high horse, no, I'm not going to lecture you about it. It's your job to figure it out."
Revan nods.
"But it affects you."
"Of course. When you share years with someone, it doesn't just disappear into thin air. The bond thins out over time, but never completely. And that means that sometimes, you're reminded of them, usually at the wrong place and time, no matter how hard you try not to."
Right. Now, this is oddly specific.
"Give it time, Jyn. I'll be alright. And you should try to be too."
He sets a hand on her shoulder.
"Now," he says, "I'm going to see if Canderous needs help with dinner, so get that stomach ready."
He leaves her alone with her thoughts, and he's right, she thinks too much – except when she doesn't think at all. She knows her brain is a mess, she's known it for weeks now, but the turmoil doesn't quiet.
There is something peculiar about having Malak aboard the ship, a mix of confusion and familiarity. It shouldn't feel familiar. It shouldn't feel safe. She should keep an eye on him, make sure it's not a ruse, but it doesn't feel like a ruse, it… it feels real. Revan focuses her awareness on the dorm. For all she knows, he's not even shielding. There is sorrow, loss, hope, envy – towards whom, she does not know – and a faint spark of joy quickly obscured by guilt... but no hate. And perhaps that's enough for now. Perhaps that's all she can ask for. So she quiets her mind and lets her legs carry her to the dorm. She'll see where this gets her.
She finds him lying on his bunk, staring at the ceiling.
"Canderous made dinner, do you… I mean I don't suppose you would, um…"
Revan stops. She shouldn't be asking this.
Malak props himself up on his elbows.
"Eat?" he offers.
She bites her lips and looks down. It's such a stupid question after what she's seen, but it's just as absurd to assume he doesn't.
"Yes. Eat."
"I should but… I suspect no one else will be able to if I join you."
As much as she hates to admit it, it might be a safe assumption.
"And if I remember correctly…" he continues, "let's just say Mandalorian food requires a certain amount of mastication."
Revan scrunches her nose. It does.
"Well, there's always Jolee's soup, if you want."
Malak raises an eyebrow, but his tone betrays his amusement.
"Does it smell like the ointment?"
Revan snorts.
"Nah. I'll save you a bowl."
Malak looks her up and down. A few seconds go by before he speaks.
"You don't have to do this, you know."
Revan shrugs. She knows that. In fact, she shouldn't even want to be anywhere near him, but, perhaps irrationally, she finds that she doesn't mind his presence all that much. Besides, she didn't risk her life dragging an unconscious Sith Lord through a crumbling space station for him to die of starvation right after.
"You know I'm still going to, right?"
"Oh, I have no doubt," he sighs. "But I'd understand if you didn't." He looks down at his feet. "Some grudges are hard to swallow."
The thing is, she should hold a grudge. Or as the Jedi would remind her, she shouldn't, but it would be natural to do so. Taris. Dantooine. Bastila. Her. She has countless reasons to resent him. And she does, to an extent, but… it should be far more than that. She doesn't know what to make of it, and she doesn't know how to talk about it, so she settles for a stale joke instead.
"Not as hard as Canderous' roba ribs, I'm sure."
Malak's cheeks rise just a little, and it's hard to read his expression with nearly half his face missing, but she believes it might be a smile.
"Alright. I'll sneak out when you're done."
For a second she tries to imagine what that would look like, Darth Malak 'sneaking out' of any room, but her brain can't seem to conjure up the image. She nods and turns around to leave, but his voice stops her in her tracks.
"Revan?"
She looks over her shoulder.
"Thank you."
It is barely daybreak when they finally land on Coruscant, and Malak has slipped back into his now somewhat patched-up armour, not because of the morning chill but because you can't very well face the Jedi council in your pyjamas. The sun is still rising behind the soaring towers, casting its reddish light through the glass panes of the cockpit, and already, Revan feels the clamour building up on the platform, the rustle of the masses gathering around for a show. There's no backing down, now. There never was.
A whisper runs among the crowd as they step out of the Ebon Hawk, and Revan narrows her eyes against the bright flashes of the cameras. It takes more than a row of armed guards to keep the Coruscant Herald away. It's a long, oppressive walk to the end of the platform, where Vandar and Vrook are waiting next to an airspeeder. They shake hands and board the speeder.
Neither Revan nor Malak dare meet the Masters' eyes as they glide smoothly above the streets.
It takes her a while to look up, and when she does, Vandar smiles at her.
"Even as a child you would cast me that look when you'd done something wrong. But rest assured, Jyn, you have nothing to be ashamed of today."
Vrook's eyes narrow at Vandar.
"They're not wayward children anymore, Master Vandar. They're dangerous."
"They are." There is a sadness in Vandar's tone. "But all our hopes rest on them."
Vrook scoffs, and Revan cannot help but wonder: what hopes? Is there another scheme, another lie involved? She probes for answers, but the masters' minds are sealed tight.
They spend the rest of the ride in silence.
The audience goes about as well as she could have expected. The air is cold and static as they stand in the Council Chamber, waiting for the Masters to speak. There are only six of them, four of which she's never met. It's the woman in white who speaks first.
"Finally," her voice is sharp, almost icy. "It is fitting that you would face us again – though such a sudden turn remains beyond my understanding. Do you have any idea what the horrors you've wrought have cost us? How many lives could have been saved had you only listened?"
"You must forgive Atris," the other woman says. "She has lost… connections during the war. We Jedi are supposed to forego attachments… but that is more easily said than achieved. And I cannot imagine what you've been through yourself."
"Save me your false pity, Master Vash. I don't deserve it and you don't feel it."
"I felt it for Revan. Why not for you?"
"Because Revan is different! She doesn't know what she's done! I do. And some of it, I'd do again, because we both know, Master, that you wouldn't lift a finger if a basilisk war droid landed in your courtyard!"
The words hit her like a punch to the gut. She doesn't know what she's done.
"Are you saying you have no regrets?" Vash continues.
"No. I regret falling to the dark side. I regret Taris. I regret Telos and Dantooine. But I don't regret going to war."
Vrook scoffs.
"And there it is. Arrogance. Defiance. Even as you seek redemption, you mock our teachings. And yet had you heeded our warnings, perhaps your fall could have been prevented."
"You don't understand, do you? There are worse threats out there, in the Unknown Regions, worse than the Mandalorians, worse even than Revan and I. I didn't come here for forgiveness. A small step towards redemption, perhaps, but forgiveness? We both know I'm past that. No, I'm here because…" He casts Revan a brief glance. "Well I'm not entirely sure why. But there is one thing the Republic must know."
"Go on."
"The Star Forge was but a tool. At least, that's what Revan wanted. A fleet to crush the enemy. But the real threat lies elsewhere." Malak takes a deep breath. "I believe there is something out there, something of the Dark Side, something that sent the Mandalorians to us… and drew us to it."
Malak pauses again.
"I don't believe there will be peace until it has been subdued."
Vrook frowns.
"And you know this because…"
Malak casts her a grave look, and Revan knows she's not going to like what comes next.
"When we came back from the Unknown Regions, entire chunks of our memories were missing. Days, maybe weeks. They still haven't come back fully. I remember a city in the jungle. A dark temple, and rain. I remember an old man, casting lightning at us. And that is all."
The masters look at each other in silence.
"This is… unsettling news. If such forces are indeed conspiring against us, then more dark times might be ahead. We will contact the Chancellor and investigate the matter as soon as you depart."
"Depart?"
Vandar nods gravely.
"The war is not over. Remnants of your Empire still harass Republic troops in the Outer Rim. Several capital ships have been ambushed no later than this morning, and with the losses suffered over the Star Forge, I fear we have little time before the Republic is overwhelmed. Whoever assumed command of Sith forces acted swiftly, and ruthlessly. We need you to put an end to this."
"And just claim back the throne?"
With that, Malak reaches for the holotable.
"May I?"
Vandar nods, and Malak rattles off the headlines.
" 'Peace Talks with the Empire?', 'War Crime Trial In Sight?', 'Major Victory in the Unknown Regions', 'Mystery Knight Sways Dark Lord', a picture of the handshake… need I go on? Half of Coruscant saw me walk here without restraints. If I haven't been deposed yet, it's a matter of hours at best."
Vrook stands up from his seat.
"It doesn't matter how you stop the Sith remnants from attacking us, as long as you do. Perhaps it is foolish of us to trust you two with this but… you know their ways better than any of us. If we are to take out their new leader, that makes you the best option we have."
"Assassination, then?"
Vandar looks down. Vash swallows. Vrook nods.
"If need be."
