Revan sat alone on a bench in a courtyard on Manaan. She was hunched over, her elbows resting on her knees. Her dull eyes stared bleakly at the racing helmet clasped in her hands. She watched the raindrops splatter on the reflexive surface, obscuring her broken reflection. The longer she looked, the more she was able to see the heinous creature that stared back at her.

Tearing her eyes from the helmet, she looked out at the endless ocean before her and leaned back. The pouring rain ran down her cheeks, mingling with the tears that leaked from her eyes. Loose strands of hair clung to her pale skin, framing her gaunt face. She may be physically alive, but anyone who looked in her eyes would see nothing more than a shade.

This Jedi and former Sith Lord was a broken woman. She had been ripped in two at the revelation of her previous identity. Everything she once took as the truth shattered into deceitful lies. Now she could not recall a memory without examining it for what it truly was. . .did it belong to Revan, or to the fictional Lethe? Was it there to teach her a lesson and mold her to the Jedi Council's ways? Or was it the echo of an atrocity from Revan's past? She couldn't trust anything anymore, not even who she used to be.

Revan coughed, shivering slightly in the freezing rain. She had lost track of how long she had been sitting there, endlessly staring. She had needed to escape from the crew and everyone watching her. She couldn't take Mission's trust, or Zalbaar's loyalty. She couldn't handle Jolee's concern or HK's joy at his dark master's return. And she certainly couldn't handle Carth's hatred. So she left the Hawk and took the swoop with her.

The racing mechanics were waiting for her, she knew. No one raced during weather like this–it just was not a good idea. It wasn't that it was dangerous or could cause accidents, it was the fact that such high winds and unpredictable visibility brought in slower times: it wasn't practical. But Revan didn't care. She was good at racing, she could forget everything when she felt the swoop beneath her–she could escape from herself.

She methodically checked the leathers she wore, ready to get out on the track. Water streamed off her figure when she finally stood from the bench. Briefly, she remembered the false memory of Ameles and her death while swoop racing. Without the ghost of this fabricated friend hanging over her, she didn't fear the track any longer.

With one deep breath, she pulled on her helmet. She turned and walked to where her swoop was waiting at the starting line. It felt like a lifetime ago that she had promised Carth that she would never get on a swoop again, right after her disaster on Tatooine. But he had also promised her that he would never condemn her for telling him the truth. It would seem that promises were only made to be broken.

Resolutely, she climbed onto the bike and checked the gauges. She could feel it vibrating beneath her, waiting to jump forward at her command. She readjusted her grip on the slick controls, settling herself confidently in the seat. This was something she could do. This was something that she had control over. In that moment, she didn't care about any of the consequences–she just wanted to get away.

The lights above her flashed green and she gunned the engine, leaving the safety of the small hanger and entering the track on the open ocean. Immediately the bike became buffeted by large winds, forcing her to work to adjust her course every moment. Her muscles tensed as she struggled to adhere to the track and stay seated. Spray constantly kicked up and drenched her, chilling her further and obscuring her vision.

The bike whined in protest when she shot over a booster pad. It hadn't been properly maintenanced in weeks and the various neglected parts strained to perform. The swoop shuddered as it fought with both the winds and the desires of the pilot. Revan gritted her teeth and hunched lower over the controls, trying to make herself more aerodynamic.

A sudden gale almost caused her to clip an obstacle and she cursed as she fought to correct her course. She had missed the last booster pad because of that sudden change and she was already paying for the lack of speed. The swoop's engine made an odd puttering noise as it became doused in a wave of spray. Steam hissed from the heated metal and streamed into her face, clouding her view.

It was during that moment of distraction that the Force became alive around her. A pulse of anger and insanity rushed over her senses, originating from somewhere far below her and the ocean's surface. Revan's concentration broke as she listened to the dark currents speaking to her through the Force. Then another gale swept over her bike and she collided with an obstacle before she could react.

Revan flew from the blazing swoop and crashed into the water. All the air rushed from her lungs as her ribs cracked under the impact. Dazed by the crash, she found herself unable to move or breathe–she was at the mercy of the ocean. Her ribs protested any movement and she had no air to sustain herself. She slowly opened her eyes to see the surface of the ocean above her, gradually getting farther away. Her body began to numb as the chill of the ocean waters set in.

Idly, Revan wondered if this was how she was to die, drowned by her own foolish actions. She didn't think the galaxy would mourn her–hell, she wouldn't mourn herself. No longer fighting, Revan could only close her eyes and let the depths take her.

Death wasn't supposed to hurt–at least, she didn't think so. Surely if she were dead, she would not feel so wretched. Her entire body was sore and it was excruciatingly painful to breath. She felt like a rancor had sat on her head with the way it was throbbing. Her body protested her small movements and she whimpered.

"You're not dead, but I'm sure you wish you were." Revan cracked open her eyes and turned her head to the side. Jolee sat in a chair next to her bed, his disapproving gaze on her. "The Selkath were nice enough to drag you out of the ocean for no charge. That was one of the most foolish things I have ever seen you do."

Revan snorted. "That must really be saying something coming from you."

Jolee was hardly amused. He shook his head. "Lass, sometimes it amazes me how dense you can be; your skull is thicker than a wraid plate. What were you thinking, deciding to swoop race?"

She sighed. "I needed to get away for a while."

"'A while' almost turned into an eternity because of that stunt. You do realize you were dead for several minutes? When they finally pulled your sorry hide from the ocean, you weren't breathing and they had to pump the water from your lungs."

Revan winced–at least that partly explained why it was so painful to breathe. She tried to sit up, but stopped when her ribs screamed at her. "You didn't heal me, did you?"

Jolee shook his head. "I thought you needed the reminder."

Revan glared at him. "Thanks. Nice to know that my healer has a streak of sadism in him."

"It's not sadism, it's teaching you a lesson."

"Really? And what is the pain supposed to teach me other than not to take deep breaths?"

"Your ribs may be broken, but they will heal and get better, if you let them. Everything eventually works itself out in the end."

Revan stared at him. "You cannot possibly be comparing some cracked ribs to me being the Dark Lord of the Sith. They are nothing alike."

"I think it is. Your broken ribs will heal in time as long as you don't aggravate the wound. And even though your identity is a bigger problem, if you work at it, that will begin to heal too."

"You're really senile you know that?" Revan leaned back against the pillows, carefully crossing her arms over her chest. "You're trivializing this whole thing. I've destroyed worlds and you think that this will just work itself out? I can't repair all the damage I've done. I can't heal the fracking galaxy with a giant kolto patch."

"Maybe not the entire galaxy. But you can at least heal yourself." She began to shake her head, but Jolee forged on. "The way I see it is, you're not Revan anymore. You may be in the same body, but you are different people with much different dispositions. Coming to terms with that is the first step."

Revan felt her throat close up. "I don't think that's possible," she whispered. "My mind is so destroyed, I don't even know what to call myself. My memories are jumbles of fictional events with real-life interludes. I can't sit quietly without phantom screams ringing in my ears. I've inadvertently betrayed everyone, including the one man I swore I would never hurt. The fact is, I'm a monster. I can't trust myself anymore and I sure as hell don't trust the Jedi Council, who lied to me. I'm a mess Jolee, for more reasons than one. Acceptance might be a bit beyond me."

The old Jedi reached forward and laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "At some point in their lives, every person falls. It just so happens that your fall was a bit more spectacular than most and had some lovely veins and glowing eyes to accompany it. You're a mess now, but you won't stay that way for long. With a little help, you'll put yourself back together. I'm not saying it will be easy, but you won't be alone. Just as everyone falls, everyone learns to pick themselves back up again."

"Not everyone manages to crawl out of despair Jolee, some just accept their fate and let it take them."

"Maybe, but you're too strong-willed to let that happen. The day you surrender to anyone or anything is the day Vrook and I agree on something. It's all about taking enough time."

"We'll just have to see then, won't we?"

Jolee rolled his eyes. "You're too stubborn for your own good, I hope you know that. Now, you need to rest and think about the wisdom I have given you. Because if you don't think about it, I'll just keep repeating it until it sticks. The rest of us are taking care of reconnaissance, so don't worry your thick head about it."

Revan nodded minutely. Jolee got up and moved to the door. "Thanks Jolee," she said quietly. The Jedi flashed a smile at her before he left her room. She sighed and pushed herself up to a sitting position. She would think about his words after she took care of her ribs. She had barely begun to work on knitting the bones back together when a voice broke her concentration.

"So, you're awake."

The Jedi opened her eyes to see Carth standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. She closed her eyes again, futilely hoping that he would go away; she wasn't quite ready to face him yet. "Apparently. At least, that's what my broken ribs are telling me."

She could hear him moving to the side of the bed. After a pause, he spoke again. "You broke your promise."

Revan cracked open one eye to look up at him. "Excuse me?"

His hard eyes stared back at her. "You promised me that you would never get on a swoop again."

Revan opened both eyes to meet his gaze evenly. "And you promised that you would never condemn me."

Carth shook his head angrily. "That's different. I would never condemn Lethe. Revan is a different story."

"You want to play it that way? Well in that case, Lethe promised she would never get on another swoop. Revan though, never made that promise. Don't try and argue semantics with me Carth, I'm going to win every time."

He paused and she determinedly turned her face away, hoping he would leave. She couldn't stand that the man she had fallen in love with hated her. She shifted uncomfortably under his stare and winced as her ribs moved.

"Why did you do it?"

Revan gritted her teeth and glanced back at Carth, his face impassive. As much as she wanted to set things to right between them, she also just wanted to heal herself so she could pass out into oblivion again. "Look, I'm really not up for fighting with you now Carth. And I know how you feel. . .you probably want to be anywhere but here. So why do you even care?"

His expression didn't change as he answered her evenly. "I didn't come here to fight with you. I just want to know why you would take such risks and possibly throw your life away."

"Why wouldn't I? What would you do if you suddenly found out your entire life was a lie and that you were in fact, the scourge of the galaxy? Wouldn't you want to escape somehow? Get away from the pain and the guilt? I just used swoop racing to do it, one poison of many."

Carth nodded. After a moment, he sat down on the edge of her bed facing her. She watched him warily, wondering what he was doing and why he wasn't lashing out at her.

"After Telos, I existed in a black void. I was less than a man–I was a destroyed shell. In every mission I went on, I didn't care if I lived as long as I managed to take some of the enemy with me. I would still be like that if you hadn't come along and made me realize some things." He paused and Revan desperately fought against the hope coming over her–she couldn't handle it if he forsook her again. "When we got to the swoop bay, we saw the Selkath dragging your lifeless body out of the water. All I could think was that you had died because you had fallen into that black void I once was in and saw no reason to get out. And I didn't want things to end like that."

Revan kept her face blank, but she was having a distinct problem breathing–and it wasn't because of her broken ribs. "So?"

The pilot ran a hand through his hair. "So I want you to know that I'm going to try and work through everything. I just need a little time to come to terms with all of this."

She forced herself to breathe, despite the sharp stabs of pain. "But why Carth? I thought you hated me. Why are you even going to bother trying?"

"Because we can all use a second chance now and then. Because you stuck with me when I sure as hell didn't deserve it. And Jolee has been giving me some heavy lectures lately. . .they all have." He smiled sheepishly. "They've all accepted it–I'm just a little more stubborn than that."

Revan let a small smile come across her lips. "Just a bit."

"Besides, I know from experience that you need help to heal. Once I figure myself out, I'll be there making sure you get out and stay out of that damned black pit. I just need time."

She didn't trust her voice not to crack if she tried to speak, so she settled for nodding, hoping that he could see the gratefulness in her eyes. Apparently, he did. Hesitating at first, he reached a hand out and brushed his fingers across her cheek, like he used to every time she was injured. After a moment, he withdrew and rose from the bed. "Get some rest and heal your ribs. At the moment it looks like we're going to have to raid a Sith Base for something, so you need to be in top shape. We'll come and check on you later." He smiled again and lingered for only a moment before he was gone, leaving her alone.

Revan hardly knew what to do. Between Jolee and Carth and the turmoil in her own mind, she didn't have the faintest idea where to start. When her ribs twinged in pain, she figured that the best place to start would be to heal the physical. Later, with help, she would work on the mental and emotional.

She sank into a healing trance and tried to organize her thoughts. She still had friends and–Force help her–maybe even love. It was too bad that it took a swoop accident for her to see all that. Never again, she thought. Never again.

All my thanks go to Trillian4210... she broke me out of my writer's block and then betaed this piece for me--I owe you one! As it is, this is the last installment of the series and I hope you liked it. I think I responded to all my reviewers, but thank you all again... I appreciate every comment! So please review and I'll get started on my next story...