Recommended song: Fade by Staind
CAUTION: This chapter is definitely more explicit than all the others. I apologize if you think it's overboard, but I didn't make it incredibly profane. Just more so than usual. You'll see.
Sorry about the wait again. School's really been killer lately, as I've had to put some serious effort into maintaning my math average...I hate math.
And about the profantiy again, just wanted to say that I'm trying to make this like normal people, dealing with VERY strong emotions. Sorry if you hate cussing, but I find that people do it more if they're stressed or angry or whatever.
He stared vacantly at the wall of his bedroom, just as he had been doing for the past three hours. He was sitting on the floor, his back against the wall, legs drawn up, with his forearms resting against his elevated knees. His breathing was nearly imperceptible, and movement was all but nonexistent. Cold was the floor he was sitting against, but he didn't notice, nor did he care. Reality, he was forced to face; the truth, thrust like a rapier into his gut.
He was Darth Revan.
The man who was responsible for this war. For millions of lives.
This truth, this reality was what he lived with now. And yet he was still denied a proper life. With no memories of his past, how could he have a life? No – he was a shell of a once great man, a great man who had fallen trying to save the galaxy. A man who had been seduced by a power that was superior to him.
A power he foolishly thought he could control.
Revan saw it even now, in his actions, in his thoughts. His confidence in his own strength was his greatest weakness. He saw this, and it humiliated him. Right now, he had no pride, no drive, and no will to live. He was stripped bare, robbed of everything that he once called his. His namesake – a lie. His trade –a falsehood. His past – a fable. His very mind – shattered. And he was left to pick up the pieces.
He blinked, the first sign of life exhibited by his body in the past few hours. Closing his eyes, he lowered his chin to his chest, suddenly ashamed to even hold his head up. An immense weight slowly pressed itself down upon him making it difficult to breathe, and he clutched a hand at his chest, pulling at the fabric of his shirt in a vain effort to ease the force that was crushing him. After a few minutes, the pressure began to recede and he could once again breathe with relative ease. Revan found that he was impossibly tense, every muscle taught and on edge. Letting out a weighty breath, he slumped fully against the wall behind him. Leaning forward, he rested his face in his hands and rubbed it tiredly.
He shifted, listlessly picking his body up off of the floor. Revan trudged heavily to the refresher without bothering to turn on the lights. His room was bathed in night, and his eyes had long since adjusted to their obscure surroundings. Casting a disapproving glance into the mirror, he absently noted the stubble that was beginning to cast a dark shadow on his features.
He wished to die at that moment, but he could not bring himself to commit such a cowardly act as suicide. Though his own personal pain was more than he could bear, he had no desire to inflict any more suffering on anyone else close to him. Suddenly, Revan got the feeling that he was a stranger in his own body. He felt separated from himself in a way that he couldn't describe. There was a gaping void in his inner being, and he felt the echo that it produced like a physical blow.
"He who makes a beast out of himself, gets rid of the pain of being a man"
Revan raised his eyes once more to the mirror as the words flashed across his mind and peered at himself closely. Was he a beast? Some people thought so. If he was, it certainly wasn't ridding him of his pain. Was he a man? He wasn't so sure anymore. There was only so much a man could take before breaking, and Revan feared what would happen when he reached that point. As it was, his mind was shaky at best, and he didn't want to test the limits of his psyche. Revan abruptly realized that there was something off about his appearance, something he was not used to seeing in his reflection. He scrutinized every inch of his face, leaning closer to the mirror in an effort to make the defect easier to recognize, but failing to pinpoint the cause of his new unease.
Turning from the mirror, he made to walk out of the refresher, but stopped short of ever taking a single step. Slowly, he pivoted back to the glass that held his reflection and brought a hesitant hand up to trace the scar on his right eye.
It was his eyes. They were different.
Revan could barely make it out in the darkness, but it was there nonetheless. It wasn't the color that had changed, but rather, the gaze the emanated from behind those mesmerizingly green orbs. It was older, more burdened, a cold and heavy stare, dark, condemning - as hollow as the soul within. Unable to bear looking at his reflection any longer, Revan stepped out of the refresher and closed the door forcefully. He leaned back against the wall, and closed his weary eyes as his flesh touched metal, feeling the icy tendrils of cold seep through the cloth of his shirt and curl around his skin to chill him.
And at that moment, he felt absolutely alone.
Revan slid to the floor, everything in him crying out for something to hold on to, something to give him the will to go on. Bastila immediately came to mind, and he despaired even more. She was currently in the charge of Darth Malak and –
Revan felt a surge of anger flood through him. Darth... a title that should have, for all intents and purposes, still been his. He ground his teeth, his jaw clenching tightly. He had been defeated, no, betrayed, by a weaker enemy – a lesser man even – and Revan hated to lose to an inferior. To make it worse, that inferior had taken the one thing that he cared about most. Standing up quickly, Revan's face hardened, as did his resolve.
Malak was going to pay for what he had done. Revan would make sure of it. Malak was going to suffer for every ounce of pain he had inflicted or yet to inflict on Bastila and he was going to remember just who it was he had screwed over.
Revan took a deep, cleansing breath and felt his head clearing a little. Calming himself, he looked at his options realistically. He had to complete his mission; he could figure the rest of his problems out later. Ignoring the pain, however, was not quite as simple as deciding to deal with it at another time. It persisted unmercifully, and Revan found that he still felt empty inside, despite his new desire to continue with his responsibilities.
"You alright in there kid?"
Revan turned his head to look at the door. It was Jolee. A bitter smile flitted across his features for the briefest of moments, a short-lived relief from the dark grimace that had become his mask.
"I know you're in there. You can ignore me if you want, but we're all worried about you, you know."
"Carth could care less," Revan responded bluntly, stating the truth in a factual tone. He heard Jolee sigh.
"Look at it from his point of view. This is hard for him too. It is for all of us," the older man said.
"It shouldn't be for you. You knew the whole time, didn't you?"
It was silent for a few seconds, and Revan knew he was right.
"Yeah, I knew. I'm not sure what it was about you, but I knew." Jolee sighed again, and walked slowly away from the room.
Revan looked within himself as Jolee's footsteps retreated down the hallway, searching for the dark persona that he knew resided within him somewhere. Suddenly, a wave of agony ripped through him, causing him to stagger and place his hand against the wall for support.
"What the hell?" he cursed softly, noticing that the pain seemed oddly muted. Horror welled within him as he realized that it was coming through his bond, meaning that what Bastila was feeling was much worse. A sensation that he was going to be sick replaced the fear inside of him, and he cradled his stomach, sinking to his knees. But it wasn't his stomach that was hurting – the ache seemed to be just below it. His eyes went impossibly wide as he realized where Bastila was feeling this pain.
"Son of a bitch! I'm going to fucking kill you!" Revan screamed, failing to suppress a cry when the pounding in his gut increased. He knew that if he closed himself off from Bastila that the pain would stop, and he refused to do it. Whatever she was suffering, he was going to suffer it as well. It was his fault that Malak had captured her, and he was not going to abandon her now.
"Kid, what the hell's going on in there?" Jolee yelled, banging on the door.
Revan groaned again, forcing the words out of his mouth. "Malak's doing something to Bastila...and I can feel it too."
"Open the door," the older man commanded. Revan sent a push of Force at the panel, and heard the door open with a "whoosh."
"Crap," Jolee muttered. "You're going to have to close the bond or something."
"No," he growled stubbornly. "It should be me anyway."
"Revan –" The young man's eyes flashed with an ineffable emotion at being called this, "The best thing for you to do right now is to find that last Star Map. Finding that will find Malak. And Bastila."
Revan knew that Jolee was right, but he didn't want to accept the fact that there was nothing he could do for Bastila. Resignedly, he nodded his head in assent.
"I know. We need to go to Korriban."
"We're already there," Canderous interrupted, having appeared at the doorway when he heard the commotion, jerking his head in the direction of the cockpit. Revan got up slowly, the pain still near-debilitating, walked to the pilot's area, glanced outside and saw the barren desert of the Sith planet, the harsh glare of Horuset, Korriban's only sun, serving to give everything a reddish hue.
"Jolee, pick who you think should come with me. I'm going to get my armor."
Revan returned to his room and opened the closet that held all of his possessions, inspecting them closely. He had found even more equipment on the Leviathan, and his decisions for armored protection were now virtually limitless. Still, Revan preferred freedom of movement to invulnerability, and for that reason, chose the Light Battle Armor that Gadon Thek had given him after the events of the underground swoop racing. Donning the tan and red suit, Revan felt a deep respect for Gadon and what the Hidden Beck leader had done for him when he really had no reason to. He wondered if Gadon would've shown him the same courtesy had he known that he was dealing with the former Dark Lord of the Sith. For some reason, Revan had the strong conviction that he wouldn't have cared much.
Lacing up his boots and buckling his belt around his waist, the young man grabbed the lightsaber that he had personally constructed and ignited it, looking at its violet color thoughtfully. It seemed to vacillate between a deeper purple and its normal hue, and Revan gave an amazed "humph" at this new phenomenon before switching the blade off and clipping it to the ring on his belt. Carefully inspecting the rest of the lightsabers that he had collected throughout their journey, he decided on one that, if he remembered correctly, he had found on the corpse of a Dark Jedi Master on the Leviathan. It was superbly crafted and perfectly balanced, and the crystals in the hilt of the lightsaber enhanced the blade in a way that fit the weapon better than any other combination Revan had tried. The only thing he had left to do was change the blade's hue. It, too, was purple, and he did not want to have two blades of the same color.
Grabbing for a blue crystal, Revan faltered. Blue was not a color that the Sith used often, and he was about to be among a planet full of them. He picked up a red crystal instead, realizing that it would be the least conspicuous color; he didn't wish to make this trip any more agonizing than it was already going to be. Once at the workbench in the garage, Revan worked quickly and skillfully, easily dismantling the lightsaber and switching out the color crystals. Almost as an afterthought, he disassembled his own lightsaber and inspected the power crystals within them. He currently had an Upari crystal with a Damind crystal; frowning, he removed the Damind gem and replaced it with an Opila crystal, remembering the Opila gave him a better chance for landing a crippling hit. Reassembling both of his weapons, he ignited them and twirled the blades to get a feel for their handle. Satisfied, he switched them off and clipped both of them to his belt, moving to the main hold in search for Jolee.
Revan found Jolee there, along with Carth – the one person who he had managed to avoid thus far.
"What's going on?" Revan asked diplomatically, opting to ask that rather than what he was thinking, which was "What's he doing here, because I know he doesn't want to be around me."
"He's coming with us," Jolee said matter-of-factly.
Revan shifted his gaze to Carth, watching the older Republic soldier for a few moments. "That's fine," he said, and he meant it. Revan bore no ill will toward Carth, though the soldier had never willingly given him his trust. Interestingly enough, the former Dark Lord felt the anger that had earlier simmered beneath the surface, mostly directed at his traitorous ex-apprentice, dissipating somewhat to be replaced by a weary resignation. It was as if he had accepted his fate and the consequences that it held.
"You look...different," Jolee commented.
Revan met the wiser Jedi's eyes. "I don't feel so angry anymore – at Malak, I mean. I...it's my fault he went down the path that he did. I can't hate him for that."
"You're a better man than most to realize that," Jolee said, somewhat surprised at Revan's confession. "I didn't expect you to see that and admit it so easily."
Revan gave a grateful but sardonic smile. "Thanks. It's good to know that I'm watched that closely." His demeanor changed, darkened, and he exhaled heavily. "But I won't sit by with the passive 'serenity' of a Jedi while he destroys the galaxy and hurts the people I care about because of his warped view of my goals."
"What goals?" Jolee asked in confusion.
"The goals I had for the Republic when I became Darth Revan. I only remember bits and pieces of them, but they sure as hell aren't what Malak is doing right now."
Carth glanced at Jolee, seeing that he was interested in this new discovery as well. "And just what did you plan for the Republic?"
Revan rubbed his forehead. "I – I'm not sure. I left all of the militarily fortified planets intact for some reason. It wasn't galactic domination that I sought after, I know that. I think...I think I was trying to make a stronger Republic." He shook his head in frustration and shrugged his shoulders in a helpless manner. "I'm sorry. I don't remember."
"Revan, you're going to be surrounded by the Dark side here on Korriban," Jolee warned.
"I know," he said, interrupting. "I'm not going to let it get to me this time. I promise."
"I believe you mean that, but we will stop you if we think you're going too far."
He looked upon his comrades with a newfound level of respect. They were simply looking out for his best interests.
"You know, I really could've used friends like you during the Mandalorian Wars. Maybe then, none of this would have happened. I might not have become the biggest screw-up of the galaxy."
A loud voice crackling over the ship's intercom interrupted and informed them that they were now securely landed, and he exited the main hold and smacked the button to lower the Ebon Hawk's exit ramp. Immediately, he was met with the obligatory docking fee and a brief description of Dreshdae's accommodations. The only thing that piqued his interest was the Sith Academy that was mentioned, and the solitary cantina, "The Drunk Side." Paying the fee, Revan and his two companions entered into the main complex of Dreshdae. He noticed that Carth seemed jumpy and on edge.
"What's the matter?"
"Damn Sith," Carth muttered. "They're everywhere. I hate this."
"Relax. As long as you don't piss them off, you'll be fine."
Carth grumbled sullenly, apparently resuming his formerly gloomy attitude. Revan's countenance darkened as he looked ahead of them. A Sith man was yelling something at a group of three people, all of whom looked terrified. As he drew closer, he could make out that the man's name was Shaardan and that the three people were Sith 'hopefuls', or whatever that meant. Shaardan turned as Revan and his friends got closer, and a sadistic grin spread across his tanned face.
"Ah, you there! You look like a decisive fellow. Tell, me, what should I do to these miserable wretches?"
Revan blinked calmly, sizing up Shaardan. "That depends on what you're trying to accomplish."
"Hmm...should I fry them with lightning? That's always an impressive display. Or how about suspending them indefinitely? Or maybe I could make them lose control of their bodily functions! What do you think?" Shaardan spoke.
"What do I think?" Revan paused, pretending to think. "I think you should let them go and realize that you're a pathetic excuse for a human being."
Shaardan became furious. "Oh, a smartass eh? We'll see how long you last here!" He stormed off, leaving the three terrified hopefuls behind.
"Are you three alright?" Revan asked.
"Now we'll never get into the Academy," one of them moaned, ignoring Revan's question. The former Sith Lord shook his head in disgust and walked on, not willing to deal with three sentients whose brains were obviously elsewhere. Jolee, Carth and himself entered a large, pentagonal room that held an information kiosk in the middle, but was otherwise of little use to them. They attempted to simply pass on through, but it seemed that even walking without being accosted was a feat to behold. Revan was stopped, this time by an attractive, young, blonde female student.
"Look here boys," she said, addressing the cronies that lagged behind her. "Seems we've got some more fresh meat. Tell you what, if you entertain us, we'll let you pass without any, ah, difficulties."
"Yeah, tell us a joke. Makes us laugh!" one of the men behind her crooned.
"Get out of my way. I doubt you'd be so insolent if you knew you were dealing with the Dark Lord of the Sith," Revan growled threateningly.
The woman let out a bark of laughter. "Dark Lord of the Sith...ha-ha...that's a good one! Do you really think we'd believe that? Lord Malak is Dark Lord, and no one can challenge his power."
Revan continued his act, snorting contemptuously. "I am his master, Darth Revan. The whelp betrayed me, and I intend to repay the favor."
This sent the whole group into paroxysms of laughter, and the female struggled to speak.
"You are a funny one...I...I think we'll let...you pass. What do you say boys?"
"Yeah, let him go. That was pretty good."
"I expect to see you at the Academy," she said. "Come on, let's go."
Revan watched with a detached curiosity as the female and her group retreated down the hall and exited outside into the harsh desert.
"Are you nuts?" Carth hissed in his right ear. "Just announce that you're Darth Revan why don't you!"
Revan glared at him. "Please. You saw how they reacted. They don't believe a word that I'm saying, and for good reason. They all think that I'm dead. I know what I'm doing, so just shut up and stop being distracting."
Carth was riled, but soon realized from the gentler look in Revan's eyes that he was not being fully serious. The look said that he needed to keep up appearances, and Carth understood completely. Revan's voice had risen at the last sentence, and the display had served to earn him some small measure of respect, no matter how miniscule, in the eyes of the Sith. They respected cruelty and raw power, and Revan needed to exude that with confidence. Finally making it out of the room, the trio resumed their trek of the settlement and soon found themselves heading toward "The Drunk Side" cantina. A small Rodian was standing just outside of the cantina, by the sign, and he motioned for them to come over when he saw Revan.
"You're the newest owner of the Ebon Hawk, right?"
Revan nodded.
"If you do me a favor, I can pay you well."
The 'Jedi' stared at the Rodian. "Depends on the favor. Tell me what it is, and I'll think about it."
"Fair enough," the Rodian replied. "My name's Lurze. Davik promised a shipment of spice back when he owned the ship. As you can imagine, with his demise, it never reached me. I'd like to get it, if you don't mind. It's in a secret compartment, and I know the code. It's R-2683. Bring the spice here, and I'll pay you 1000 credits."
"1500 and you've got a deal," Revan countered.
The Rodian shrugged. "Sure, why not. It's good of you to help me out on this, so what are 500 more credits? Just make sure you bring back the right spice. I'll know if it's a fake."
"Don't worry, I'm not going to cheat you out of some drugs that I didn't even know I had, much less some drugs that I'm never going to have any need for. I'll check into it next time I go back to my ship."
"I'll be here," the Rodian said, ending the conversation and entering the cantina. Revan followed, and gave a cursory glance around the room. No one of immense importance stood out, so he settled on the next best thing: a Sith hopeful.
"Excuse me Miss, but I was wondering something."
A young woman turned, surprised that Revan was speaking to her, and stammered, "Um...s-sure. I don't know if I'll be much help though."
Revan gave a patient smile. "I'm sure you will. I just wanted to know who I needed to speak with to get into the Academy."
The woman's face lit up. "Oh! Yuthura Ban. She's the one who decides if you're good enough to even enter the Academy doors. She frequents here, but I haven't seen her around today. Sorry."
Revan made sure that his most charming smile was on his face as he responded. "Thank you very much, Miss."
"Wait," the woman blurted, her face turning a deep crimson as Revan's alluring green eyes came to rest on her again. "I was...I was just wondering if you were a Jedi."
He furrowed his brows at her question, but answered nonetheless. "I was once, yes. Why?"
"Well..." she cast a cautious glance around her and leaned closer, lowering her voice, "I just don't feel as if I belong here. I don't know if I have what it takes to make it into the Academy." Her eyes widened as she realized what she had just confessed. "Oh, please don't tell Yuthura I said that if you see her!"
Revan smiled gently, placing a comforting hand on the woman's shoulder. "I had no intention of mentioning it. But about what you said; if you're not cut out to be a Sith, why not try the Jedi? I think it would be a good place for you."
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "If it's such a good place, then why did you leave it?"
He thought for a moment, wondering how to answer that. "I didn't say I had left the Order," he said slowly. "And I misspoke earlier when I said I was once a Jedi. I still am, technically, I just don't consider myself to be one any longer. I am not here to defect to the Sith. I am simply here to learn, and I'm searching for something - an artifact I need to find. The Sith are not what brought me here, so please don't misjudge my presence as another fallen Jedi."
A light had been growing in her eyes as he had spoken, and it shone as a fire behind the glassy brown orbs, sending a small flicker of hope to Revan that maybe he could redeem himself for the deeds of his dark past.
"Thank you, sir. I hope that what you say is true."
"You know that the Enclave on Dantooine is gone, right?" Jolee asked once the woman had left.
Revan nodded. "I know. But if she's looking for the Jedi, she'll find them. As for me, though the Sith are in no short supply, the single one I need to find seems to be missing."
Revan wandered back out of the cantina, deciding that since he had nothing more pressing to do, he would retrieve the spice that Lurze the Rodian had requested. He asked that Jolee and Carth stay behind to see if they could find this Yuthura person while he completed his task. Re-entering the docking bay and his ship, he went into the cargo hold, knowing that it would be the only location for a hidden spice compartment. Spotting a very well-blended panel behind a stack of plasteel cylinders, Revan made his way over to it and found that it indeed was the space he was looking for. After a brief inspection, he found the panel to enter to code, and felt a small amount of triumph as the panel slid away to reveal a package of spice waiting to be retrieved. He stuck a single hand in and grabbed the package, shoving into one of the large pockets in the outer cloth of his armor.
Back at the docking bay, Revan was approached by a cordial-looking Twi'lek. For some odd reason, he wasn't suspicious of this man in the least, and he contributed some of that to the fact that no deception was coming from the man through the Force.
"Excuse me, but I believe you are Revan, are you not?"
"I am," he replied honestly, surprised that the Twi'lek knew his real identity. "What can I help you with?"
"I am simply a messenger. Mika Dorin wishes to extend an invitation to view his stock. You must talk to him in the cantina, but he will only show you what he has for sale if you ask to see his premium wares."
"Why are you telling me this? Why would he want to sell to me?" Revan asked, perplexed as to why a merchant would actively wish to sell to the former Sith Lord.
The Twi'lek smiled. "Mika is one of the few who believes that your motives were more noble than the Republic has lead people to think. Besides, he had heard of your more recent exploits, and he has a hunch that you respect quality goods. He has also heard that you pay well. Go see him. I promise you won't be disappointed."
The Twi'lek disappeared from whence he had come, leaving a somewhat bewildered Revan behind. Deciding that he might as well talk to this Mika character since he had to be in the cantina anyway, Revan resumed his former course, and soon caught sight of Lurze again.
"Lurze!" he greeted. "I have your spice."
Lurze eyed the bag carefully and gave a nod of approval. "It seems you do, my friend. Here are the credits I promised you." He handed Revan the 1500 credits. "There is one more favor I would ask of you before we part ways."
Lurze brought out a medium-sized bag and held it up.
"There is a box in here that needs to be delivered to Motta the Hutt on Tatooine. He will pay 2000 credits for it, not a penny less. Will you deliver this for me? I'll have my boys put it on your ship for you."
"Motta the Hutt? I'm sure I'll get around to Tatooine eventually, so I guess I can deliver your box," Revan replied.
"One word of caution: Don't look inside the box," Lurze warned gravely. When the Rodian turned away, Revan knew their conversation was over. Shaking his head, he entered the cantina and immediately noticed a purple-skinned, female Twi'lek with Sith tattoos adorning her face. He approached her with an authoritative air and asked her point blank, "Are you Yuthura Ban?"
She wasn't impressed by his show, and she eyed him warily. "Yes. And just who are you?"
"I'm looking to get into the Academy," he answered. "I was told to talk to you."
"So you want to become a Sith?" Yuthura asked skeptically.
"Why else would I be here? Korriban isn't much for tourism, or the people," Revan shot back.
Yuthura grinned. "I see. Judging from your lightsabers, I would venture a guess that you're another one of the Order's failed Jedi drones."
"Failed?" Revan gave a short laugh. "I didn't fail anything. I was the best Jedi in my class. Made knight without even breaking a sweat. No, I quit because the Jedi were too passive for me. I wanted more action."
"Well then, you've come to the right place. We Sith believe in controlling the Force, letting our emotions run freely, not restricting them like the Jedi preach. Emotions make us more powerful. The Jedi fear this."
"I've always had strong emotions that were difficult for me to master to the Jedi's liking."
"If you are serious about this, then I will need to take you to the headmaster of the Academy. But tell me, do you truly want to become a Sith?" Yuthura asked with a finality in her voice. Revan knew he had to be convincing.
His gaze hardened, and he looked directly into the dark eyes of the Twi'lek in front of him. "Yes. I wish to learn the ways of the Sith."
Yuthura searched his face for a long while. Finally, she made her verdict. "Come then. I will take you to Master Uthar."
Jolee and Carth had wordlessly slipped in step behind him as he followed Yuthura outside of the settlement and into the harsh desert outside. They walked down a ramp, crossed a relatively small distance, and quickly found themselves outside the doors of the Academy. The guard, upon seeing Yuthura, stepped aside and let them pass, keeping his weapon at the ready as the four of them continued on. Revan's thoughts suddenly turned to Bastila as he heard the stone doors scrape shut behind him, and he felt frustration welling within him. He felt like this was a waste of his time, playing Sith, while he could be looking for the Star Map. His logic kicked this train of thought away, pointing out the fact that he was looking for the Star Map, as it was likely to be somewhere the Sith knew about.
He was brought out of his reverie as they entered a large circular room in which many young people like himself were standing around a single man. Revan assumed this man must've been the Master Uthar that Yuthura had been referring to. He found that he was right, as the Twi'lek woman addressed the man as such.
"Master Uthar, I have brought you a pupil in which I see great potential," she said, giving a small, reverential bow.
Uthar's yellow-grey eyes turned upon Revan, meeting his green ones. A mutual declaration of respect passed between the two men, and Uthar spoke, his voice emanating in deep, soothing tones that one would attribute to a father figure.
"Ah, yes. The students you bring me all have such raw energy bursting to be let out, but this one...this one is controlled. I sense very little untamed power in him. Interesting."
Revan once again slipped into his own mind as Uthar's voice seemed to lull him into yet another trance while he said a small something about each student in the ring around him. When Uthar was done speaking, a guard approached Revan and jabbed his gun at the two men behind him, Jolee and Carth.
"Who're they?" he asked roughly.
"Them?" Revan said, glancing behind him. "Ignore them. They're just slaves."
Carth hid an indignant snort in a cough, and he felt Jolee's glare on the back of his neck. The guard, however, noticed none of this.
"Oh. Right then. Your quarters are down there, by the way."
Revan was led to his personal bunk by another guard, then left alone. With a look of apology, he turned to his friends.
"Slaves, huh?" Jolee said with mock indignancy.
"Sorry, but it was the fastest thing I could come up with. Just go with it if it means they don't care you're with me," Revan replied.
"You seem calmer than before," Jolee observed.
"Do you watch everyone else this incessantly too?" Revan exclaimed. "I do feel calmer than earlier. I think I just needed time to clear my head a bit. And there was something about that girl in the cantina, something in her eyes that gave me hope. Made me feel like I could do something to make up for all of the terrible things I did when I was Darth Revan."
"Good. You're going to need that hope and that calm here. I can already feel the Dark Side oozing out of every damn crack in this place."
"Really?" Revan asked, reaching out to the Force. "Hmm...you're right. It's not as strong as I would've expected though."
"It's because they're not true Sith," Jolee said.
Revan felt a flash of white-hot pain sear across his brain, and he sank to the floor. Jumbled images were exploding across his vision; red-skinned humanoids...dark robes...a massive temple...grey-skinned warriors...chanting...dark alchemy...a horrifically disfigured face – then nothing. It had stopped, and Revan was able to see the faces of his friends, looking deeply concerned and a little uneasy.
"Mind explaining what that was about?" Carth asked as he helped Revan up.
"I-I have no idea," Revan answered shakily. "Memories, I think. There's something important about "True Sith." I just got random images though."
"It'll be like that until your mind learns how to sort all of your memories out," Jolee said. "Hopefully, that will be soon."
"Yeah. I've had enough of these "pass out on the floor and die" sessions for my liking. How long did that take?"
"Maybe a minute," Carth offered. Jolee nodded in agreement.
"Right. That was a wasted minute. We need to get moving and find that Star Map. C'mon," Revan led the way, going down the long hallway that extended away from his room.
"You there, wait. I wish to speak with you."
Revan halted as he heard Yuthura's voice at his right. He found it odd that her bunk was apparently only one down from his.
"Yes?"
"I didn't catch your name in the cantina," she said.
"Oh, I'm sorry. That was rude of me not to introduce myself. I'm Vincent," Revan replied, extending one of his large hands. Yuthura grasped it and shook it, one eyebrow rising at the firmness in his grip.
"All business already?"
"I have pressing matters that need my attention. I apologize if I seem somewhat distracted," Revan said tactfully.
Yuthura shrugged, ignoring whatever his "pressing matters" were. It didn't concern her in the least. "I believe you have the most promise out of the potentials, and I intend to make sure that you are still alive for the final test," she stated. "In order to get there, however, you must gain prestige with Master Uthar."
"Lovely," he muttered. "And just how would I go about getting this prestige?"
"You can start by learning the Sith Code. If you would like, I will teach it to you."
"Alright then. What does it say?" Revan asked, trying to assess her motives. He could sense that Yuthura liked him for more than just his 'potential.'
"Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall free me," the Twi'lek recited.
Revan mused over the code for a moment, finding that it came back to him as soon as she began to say it.
"Do you need help understanding any of that?" Yuthura asked, breaking into his thoughts.
"Hmm? No, I think I've got it. Is there anything else I should know before I try and get this 'prestige' that I need?"
"No, but there is something that you need to know about your final test. It will take place in the tomb of Naga Sadow, and you will have to fight Master Uthar." Here her voice gained a conspiratorial tone. "I am planning to poison Uthar so he will be weaker during your test. When you kill him, I will become the new leader of this Academy, and I promise to show you favor for helping me with this."
Inside, Revan was only somewhat shocked. He was once a Sith, and the memories of his old ways were coming back to him easily as he was immersed deeper and deeper into the greed and deception of the people here. Outside, he showed indifference, if not some amusement.
"I don't believe you, but I have nothing to lose. Knock yourself out."
"You should go now and try and gain some prestige. Let Uthar know when you think you've mastered the Code. If you need help with anything, I'll try and answer as best I can," Yuthura said dismissively, but Revan had the distinct feeling that she truly mean to help him. He wondered about this, as she was a Sith, and not inclined in the least to show anyone favor.
As soon as he walked away, a plan began to form itself in Revan's mind. What was to stop him from telling Uthar about Yuthura's plan? But more importantly, when he did tell him, and he would, how would Uthar react? Revan decided to play it safe and check to see how Uthar responded to him when he approached him with knowledge of the Sith Code. Which he was about to do now.
Entering the large circular room once more, Revan spotted Uthar's kneeling form in the middle of the floor. Approaching confidently but respectfully, he addressed the man before him.
"Master Uthar," he said in a firm but quiet tone.
Uthar's yellow-grey eyes opened unhurriedly and gazed up at Revan for a few seconds before becoming level with his as the Sith Master rose to his feet.
"Ah yes, Yuthura's latest pupil. What is it you need?"
Revan was once again struck by the smooth, soothing voice that Uthar possessed. It was so calm, so serene that he found it hard to associate this man with the evil of the Sith.
"I know the Code."
"Do you now? Very well, recite after me: Peace is a lie, there is only..."
"Passion."
"Through passion I gain..."
"Strength."
"Through strength I gain..."
"Power."
"Through power I gain..."
"Victory."
"Through victory..."
"My chains are broken."
Uthar did not speak, so Revan finished the line.
"The Force shall free me."
"Very good. But there is a difference between simply knowing the Code, and understanding it. I will now question you on part of the Code. True or false: Victory by any means is acceptable."
"False," Revan answered immediately.
Uthar raised an eyebrow. "Impressive. One more. True or false: There is nothing worse than love."
Revan felt a familiar tightness in his chest as he thought of Bastila once more, and the hollow ache inside of him seemed to throb even worse with the pain that was still residing deep in his lower gut.
"Are you alright? You look quite pale," Uthar said, though he showed little emotion.
"I'm fine. For the answer to your question..." Revan thought about what the Sith believed, and how they viewed the Force before continuing. "I say false."
"Very good. But am not yet impressed with you enough to declare you the winner. Come back when you have accomplished more."
Uthar resumed his kneeling position without further warning, and Revan knew better than to bother him. The combination of the feeling of nausea, the guilt of letting Malak take Bastila, and the emptiness that he felt without her were all beginning to show on Revan's face. His skin had paled some from the effort to ignore the pain and sickness, and his eyes were darkened, partially from the anger he felt towards Malak for hurting Bastila, and partially because of his guilt.
"Maybe you should rest a little," Carth suggested.
Revan shook his head violently as they walked in the direction of Yuthura. "No time," he grunted. Instead of taking the hallway that contained the second in command and his bunk, Revan turned one hallway before.
"Where are we going?"
"Dunno. I just feel like I need to go this way," Revan replied, truly at a loss for his intentions. The Force seemed to be pulling him though, and he wasn't going to argue. They passed various people along the way, none of whom paid any attention to them, and they likewise, but Revan knew that they had not yet reached the place they were supposed to be. Finally, at the end of the hallway, a young man, just above medium height, with brown hair and light brown eyes came into view. Revan heard Carth give a strangled cry and rush forward.
"Dustil? Is that really you?"
The young man looked perplexed. "Father? What are you doing here?"
"Dustil, I thought you were dead!" Carth exclaimed, overjoyed to see his only son still alive.
"Well, you were wrong," Dustil spat coldly. "You stopped looking for me. And mother. If you would've cared, you could've found us."
Carth drew back as if slapped. "No...No! I looked for you for years! I followed all of the reports, but you never turned up. I swear!"
"Why are you here, Father?" Dustil asked jadedly.
"We're looking for a Star Map," Revan interjected. "And I'm trying to save someone close to me from the Sith."
"How did you get caught up in this?" Carth moaned, half to himself.
"I came with a friend. She was going to join the Sith, and I had nowhere else to go. I've learned from them, Father. I don't need you anymore, not like I thought I did. You were never there, and it only served to make me stronger."
"No – Dustil, I was in the war! I was going to come back to get you and your mother, you know that."
"Don't lie to my face," Dustil threatened, his hand straying for his lightsaber. Revan extended his right hand and froze the young man in place. Stepping up to him to emphasize the size difference between them, he growled in a low voice, "I would advise against that. Your father won't hurt you, but I will."
The boy smirked insolently. "You can't beat me. I'm the best lightsaber duelist in my class."
"And I'm the former Dark Lord of the Sith," Revan answered deadpan. "You shouldn't be here. You're not a Sith. Look at yourself - you're just an angry adolescent who resents his father for not being there when he needed him the most. The Sith are evil," he said, releasing Dustil from his hold on him, "while you are not."
"Prove it," he challenged.
"Fine," Revan replied coolly. "C'mon, we need to keep moving."
Revan did this for two reasons: First, the boy's impudence was a source of extreme annoyance, and second, Carth needed a distraction. He could tell that the sight of his son as a Sith was more than the older man could bear. After all, his son had become what the Republic soldier had fought against his whole life. Revan didn't look back as he spoke.
"Don't worry Carth. I'll convince your son to get out of here. I promise."
"This is your fault," he snarled.
Revan felt yet another stab of guilt at Carth's words. "I know," he replied softly. "That's why I'm going to fix it."
He stopped suddenly and leaned against the rough stone wall, wracking his brain for a way to convince Dustil to leave this place. His aggravation mounted when nothing presented itself. Resigning himself to the fact that he would just have to continue with the mission and hope a solution became apparent, Revan decided to talk to Uthar one more time. This time, the Sith Master stood before Revan spoke, having sensed his presence before the 'Jedi' entered the room.
"You seem agitated. Is there something you wish to tell me?"
For the umpteenth time, Uthar gave Revan the impression of a calm father, instructing his children in the ways that they should go. Forcing the odd affection, he was beginning to feel for this man aside, Revan collected his thoughts.
"Yes, Master Uthar. I think that it should be brought to your attention that your second in command, Yuthura, is planning to poison you before the final test."
Uthar appeared unfazed, and his heavily tattooed face stared calmly at the floor for a while. "Thank you for bringing this before me. You are wise to do so, and I award you more prestige because of it." He reached into his pocket and retrieved a small data pad, typed something on it, and handed it to Revan. "Take this to Adrenas. He will know what to do with it."
"Right. Where is Adrenas?"
"To your left," Uthar stated.
"Thank you, Master," Revan replied, striding off as quickly as his body would allow. Thankfully, the excruciating pain that had marked the past few hours had subsided, and was now only a deep and pervading ache. He asked a guard which one Adrenas was upon entering the smaller circular room, and was pointed to him.
"Adrenas?" he asked.
The man turned. "Yes?"
"Master Uthar said I was to give this to you. I believe it's quite important."
And with that, Revan left. He didn't care what the data pad said because it didn't matter. His immediate goal was to tell Yuthura of his duplicity, and play off of her next. He didn't make it very far down the hallway, however, as a fire ripped through his muscles and he staggered against the cool, rough stone wall. Both Jolee and Carth were at his side at an instant, supporting him and forcing him to keep going.
"C'mon kid. You really need to shut this bond off," Jolee insisted.
Revan shook his head weakly. "I said no, and I mean it. This..." he grunted, "is my pain too."
"You're being an idiot!" Carth hissed.
"If love makes you do stupid things, then I'm a victim," he said with a feeble smile. It turned to a frown quickly and a dark cloud passed over his features. "She's weakening. I can feel it."
Please stay strong, he thought. Don't make my mistake.
"The faster we find this Star Map, the faster we help her," Carth reminded him.
"Trust me, I know. I need to get back to Yuthura and talk to her. I can walk on my own guys."
They let go of him reluctantly and were surprised to see that he was walking perfectly fine now. Revan motioned for them to stay back some as he approached Yuthura.
"Yes?" she asked.
"I told Uthar about your little coup," he said nonchalantly. "I don't think he appreciated it much."
Her eyes narrowed. "Playing both sides of the fence, huh? You're a bit reckless. I admire that," she purred. She pulled out a small, spider-like device. "Well, now that the stakes are higher, I need to get to Uthar first. This is a mild poison that's effects are delayed. Take this to Uthar's room and place it under his bed. Don't worry; it's odorless and virtually undetectable. Here's a pass card to get in."
Revan took the machine and made sure that his fingertips brushed ever so lightly against the sensitive skin on the inside of her wrist. There was a slight hitch in her breathing, and he knew that his touch had had the desired effect.
"Oh, I had a question as well. What other things can I do to get prestige? As you can tell, I don't know my way around here."
That was a lie. Revan vaguely remembered the layout of Korriban's Valley of the Dark Lords, and really didn't need her guidance, but he was trying to feign mutual interest here, so he figured the conversation was worth it either way.
"There are some students who have gone missing recently in the Shyrack caves. Lashowe, a student here, is working on something as well. You might talk to her about it." Yuthura paused. "The tombs haven't been explored by any students. That is to say, none of them have come back alive. If you were to accomplish that, Uthar would be considerably impressed, as would I."
Revan noticed the personal interjection and sent a roguish smile in her direction. "I'll get right on that."
He turned, walked down the hallway, took a right, then a left turn to find himself where he knew he would end up: Master Uthar's room. Inserting the pass card into the slot, his eyes roved over the room before entering.
"What's up with you and the Twi'lek?" Carth asked, unsuccessfully trying to keep the laughter out of his voice.
"It's called flirting," Revan answered while taking out the device and activating it, watching as it scurried underneath the bed.
"Fidelity's a virtue, ya know."
"Please. You really think I'm that fickle? I'm only playing her so she'll help me out. But there's something about her that's different...like she doesn't belong here somehow." Revan shrugged. "Jealousy won't get you anywhere."
"I am not jealous," Carth replied with mock offense. "I just don't want Bastila to hear about this later and kick your ass."
Revan laughed sadly at the memory of Bastila's fiery temper. "She would too," he murmured, noticing a footlocker at the edge of Uthar's bed. Unlatching it deftly with his foot, he bent down and retrieved a mask and a data pad. Ignoring the mask for the time being, he read the data pad and stood with a relieved look on his face.
"Here's your son's proof. Listen: 'Dustil Onasi shows much promise, but that female friend of his, Selene, is slowing him down. I have disposed of her and made it look like an accident: a nasty run in with the Tuk'ata.' What do you think of that?"
Carth snatched the data pad from Revan's hands and scanned it quickly. "We should take this back to him," he said with urgency in his voice.
"Let's go then," Revan replied, hoping that his compliance would be a salve for Carth's wounded trust. He couldn't deny that he felt a small amount of annoyance at the soldier's stubbornness, but nothing more. He knew that Carth was trying, and that's all he honestly wanted from the man. This time, the Republic pilot led the way, and Revan and Jolee followed. Revan pulled the older man back just before they reached Dustil and whispered into his ear, "Take it easy on him. He's stubborn like you, and he won't take this well."
Carth nodded, and stepped in front of his son. "I have your proof, son."
"So soon?" Dustil looked genuinely surprised. "Lemme see that," he said, grabbing at it in much the same way his father had. The young teenager's face changed from shock, to rage, then disbelief. He dropped the data pad lifelessly and stared at Revan with an open mouth.
"They...they killed her? I...she was the only reason I came. It's my fault. I shouldn't have been so lax around her. They thought it was her...and it was me...I was lazy..."
Revan's hand shot out faster than Carth and Jolee could see and slapped Dustil resoundingly across the face. "It is not your fault," he ordered. "Now do you see why you shouldn't be here?"
Dustil rubbed his sore cheek and looked up at his father with a mixture of stubborn defiance and, at the same time, shame. "I'm going to go back to Telos, Father. When you're finished with whatever it is you're doing here, come look for me. Maybe...maybe we can talk."
"I'd like that," Carth said quietly as he watched his son leave the Sith Academy forever. "My God, he's a man now," he muttered, shaking his head.
"Not quite," Revan stated. "But he's getting there. He can take responsibility at least. That's always a good sign."
Carth made a noncommittal noise and took a deep breath. "Hey, uh, Revan?"
Revan, who had begun to walk again, stopped short at the sound of his name and cursed softly. "My name is not Revan," he hissed. "It's Vincent."
Carth looked nonplussed for a second before he realized that it was impossible to call Revan his true name around all of these Sith. "Right. Sorry. I just wanted to say thanks for your help. My son is all I have left, but you didn't have to do that for me."
"No," Revan said, "I did. It's obvious that I have to re-earn your trust, and I'm not going to waste any time doing that. Even if you never trust me, I won't just leave you on your own."
Revan's voice was calm and gentle, not accusatory in the least, and he began to walk away again as soon as he had finished speaking. He was simply wandering now, searching the entire complex just to know where he was and what room contained what. The trio happened to chance across a room that looked disturbingly similar to a torture chamber, and Revan couldn't help but enter, as there was another student inside – one of the students that was competing against him, in fact.
The student's head whipped around at the sound of their footsteps and a disgusted look passed over his face before it resumed the indifferent gaze it held before.
"You wanna try a crack at this Mandalorian? He knows the location of a weapons cache, but he won't tell me where."
"What do I have to do for you?" Revan inquired, knowing full well that he wouldn't get off easily.
The student shook his head. "Nothing. I'm done wasting my time on him. He's not gonna break, but you're welcome to try."
The student exited the room without further notice, leaving Revan and his companions behind. The Mandalorian was in bad shape, but a defiant blaze burned behind his eyes as he met Revan's.
"You'll never get that weapons cache!" he spat hatefully.
Revan raised an eyebrow. "Who said I wanted it?"
The prisoner looked taken aback, but still suspicious. "Then why are you in here?"
"Can I get you out?" he asked, ignoring the man's question.
"I don't believe you!"
Revan closed his eyes, struggling to keep his temper under control. The combined weight of his identity, losing Bastila, and her physical pain was wearing his patience very thin.
"Look, if I had wanted to kill you or find out whatever the hell it is you know, I could've found a very painful way to do it already. Now, is there a way to get you out of here or not?"
"Well... I guess...if they think I'm dead, then they'd probably dump me," the Mandalorian confessed.
Revan stepped up to the console that the previous student had been occupying and studied it closely. It seemed to him that he needed to induce a catatonic state in the Mandalorian prisoner for him to seem even remotely deceased.
"How much should I dose you?" he asked.
"Two high doses should be enough, I think."
Revan punched the buttons and watched as the computer applied the doses. "Working?"
The Mandalorian nodded weakly, the drugs already taking a heavy effect. "Thanks. I owe you one. The cache is in a secret compartment in my ship. Crew quarters, third bu..."
He passed out before finishing his sentence, but the former Dark Lord had a good idea of what he had been meaning to say: Crew quarters, third bunk. The Force signature of the student who had been in before them suddenly spiked and Revan whirled to see him standing in the doorway with a malicious grin on his face.
"Well you were a help weren't you? I'll just tell Master Uthar where that weapons cache is, and he'll award me more prestige. And I'll let him know that the Mandalorian isn't dead."
Revan's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I won't let you do that," he growled.
The student, who wasn't a small man by any means, stepped up to Revan and glared directly back at him. "Oh? Is that so?"
Revan regretted challenging this man, knowing that the outcome of their inevitable fight would not be good. "Yeah. It is."
The student's arm shot out suddenly, the small blade he was wielding catching the side of Revan's throat as the 'Jedi' feinted to the right, thrusting his left fist out and grabbing the student's wrist. Twirling, he brought his right shoulder underneath the man's outstretched arm, and simultaneously pulled his enemy's wrist down while he shoved his shoulder up against the man's elbow. He heard a loud crack ring out like a shot, and the student dropped the dagger that he had been clutching, yanking his arm back and cradling his now broken elbow.
"You wanna try that again?" Revan said darkly, picking up the small blade. The student shook his head vigorously in a vehement 'No.' "Get out."
The man obeyed, scurrying away whimpering. Revan sighed and pocketed the weapon that he was holding. "Stupid people are a danger to themselves," he stated. "I hope that Mandalorian makes it out alright."
"You did a good thing for him," Jolee said sincerely while Revan wiped the blood off of his neck, gazing at the red substance almost as if he had never seen it before.
"Do you know if I was like this before I fell?"
Jolee's mouth hung open for a time, caught off guard by Revan's blunt question.
"From what I know, you were just as compassionate and good hearted as you are now. Why kid?"
"I don't remember that yet," Revan said, shrugging. "I don't remember people. Just things and places."
"The Jedi Council might have put an even stronger block on the memories of your relationships on purpose. And I'm pretty sure they put as strong of a restraint on your memory of yourself as they could."
"Yeah...but I do remember one person. She's an old woman, but I think she was a Jedi. She had a green lightsaber, I remember that vividly...and her robes were brown. Her hair was brown but graying, and I don't get the feeling she was exceptionally kind."
Jolee formed a mental picture of this woman that Revan described, but couldn't place a finger on who it was.
"And you can't remember her face?"
Revan shook his head. "No. Just that she looked worn...like she had been through a lot. It frustrates me because I feel like I had a special bond with her. Like she was a mentor or something."
"Your Master maybe?"
"Maybe..." he trailed. "Just forget it," he finished, waving a hand to dismiss the whole thing.
Jolee knew of Revan's Master, Kreia, and he wondered if that was who he was remembering. Mentally shrugging, he took Revan's advice and forgot about it. Meanwhile, the young 'Jedi' was mulling over this new development in his mind. When Jolee had said 'Master', something had clicked in his memory and the picture had become a little bit clearer. He still didn't know who this old woman was though, and that bothered him to no end. Revan cursed under his breath as his wrists and ankles began to burn and ache with more of an aggravating feeling than true pain. He flinched suddenly and brought a hand up to his right eye, pressing on it and feeling a splitting headache spreading through his skull.
"Bastila?"
He nodded, too tired to speak as yet another ache surged through his body, letting him know that she was being electrocuted again. Strangely enough, he was becoming accustomed to this, and he found that he retained all of his motor functions perfectly, though every ounce of his muscles was screaming for him to stop moving and rest from the distance he had been walking for the past minute. Pausing as a pair of huge doors slid open in front of him, his brain came up a few particularly choice curses in all of the various languages he knew as his eyes caught sight of a darkly clad figure and two men flanking him in the grey uniforms of the Sith.
They had made it outside to the small canyon leading to the Valley of the Dark Lords, and were staring at three men about 500 yards away. Thankful that suppressing his Force aura was as second nature to him as breathing, Revan leaned heavily against the outside rock, successfully shielding himself from view. It didn't matter much, as the three men were currently preoccupied with something in the opposite direction.
"Why'd we stop?" Carth asked.
Jolee pointed. "Them. Kid, you can't fight like this. You're being an idiot to keep this bond open."
"I know, you've told me already. I'm fine. Look." Revan pushed away from the wall and stood sturdily on his own two feet. "Hit me."
"What?" Jolee exclaimed.
"Do it. Hit me."
"No!"
"Why not? Don't think I can block you?"
"Fine!"
Jolee lashed out with a solid punch to Revan's gut, only to have it caught, stopped, and his arm twisted uncomfortably – but not painfully – behind him.
"See? I'll be alright. We're going to have to fight them sooner or later, and standing here arguing about it is wasting my time. Let's go, or turn back."
"No," Jolee said, stepping out into the sun, "let's go."
The trio set out in the narrow canyon, their only exit blocked by the three Sith who still hadn't acknowledged their presence. Revan frowned; either these Dark Jedi were arrogant or just plain stupid. He opted for the former. With eyes set forward, gaze bitter, dark and heavy, Revan never broke stride as he unclipped both of his lightsabers and ignited them in one fluid movement, twirling them once for one last test of comfort and balance. Dropping about half of his mental barriers, Revan let his power begin to flow from him and through the Force, causing the Dark Jedi to finally turn.
The leader, the one on the middle, wore black robes over black armor, and held a double-bladed blood red lightsaber. His bald head shone brightly with sweat in the hot sun, and his yellow-grey eyes, so typical of the tyros of the Dark side, stared at Revan with as much malice as the reformed Dark Lord held toward him.
"Ah, Revan. So we finally meet," he spoke, his voice deep and commanding.
Revan's equally authoritative male voice responded. "For the second time, I believe. You were on the Endar Spire. You killed Trask."
The Dark Jedi laughed. "I have failed to properly introduce myself then. I am Darth Bandon, Lord Malak's apprentice. He has taught me everything he knows, and has entrusted me with the task of disposing of you."
"Malak must really want to get rid of you then, because I promise you that you won't leave here alive," Revan replied, his voice firm and unwavering. "If you think you can defeat me, you are very sadly mistaken."
Darth Bandon's face formed a malicious smirk. "You are just as Lord Malak said: weaker in the light. Tell me, why did you redeem yourself?"
It was Revan's turn to smirk. "I haven't," he stated. "And I can assure you that I no more weaker now than I was then. If you consider me weak."
"Well, that will depend on how you fight."
"Let's find out then."
Revan expertly twirled his lightsabers, feeling his muscles easily slipping into Form X, Jar'kai. He watched impassively as Darth Bandon and his two companions activated their red lightsabers and prepared to fight. Feeling a slight nudge from Jolee through the Force, Revan knew it was time to leave. Gathering the Force around himself, he launched his body into the air and succeeded in flipping backwards the twenty meter distance that separated him from his friends just before a plasma grenade engulfed the three Sith in a ball of molten hot energy. One of the lesser Dark Jedi went down immediately, his feeble attempt to get up ended by a precise blaster shot to the head, courtesy of Carth's sniper attachment. Both Darth Bandon and the other Dark Jedi had survived, erecting Force barriers around themselves before the blast.
"I must admit," Bandon called as he walked slowly up to where Revan was, "that was a brilliantly executed tactic."
"I was the reason we won wars," Revan said deadpan, "not the leader you have now."
"Lord Malak is much stronger than you. I'm surprised you lasted as long as you did," Bandon spat.
"Stronger?" Revan laughed, the sound causing chills to run down the spines of everyone present. "Tell me he's stronger than this!" he roared, fully letting his barriers down and lunging at Bandon at the same time. The apprentice staggered backwards, both from the physical and metaphysical blows he had received almost concurrently. Revan was a blur of violet and crimson, twirling and slashing, blocking and attacking, never letting his opponent rest or become comfortable in one position for too long. He brought both of his lightsabers down in overhead strikes, and Darth Bandon thrust his lightsaber out like the bar of a T, parallel to the ground, to block with both of his blades. Revan shoved forward, brining the two enemies' faces within inches of each other.
Panting heavily, Bandon grinned again. "Lord Malak enjoyed ravaging your bitch," he purred. "As did I."
Revan's eyes widened as his pupils dilated, a fresh wave of adrenaline-fueled anger coursing through him. Growling, he shoved Bandon away and flipped backwards, kicking at the same time and catching the apprentice under the chin. His head snapped back as he stumbled away from Revan's attack, keeping his double-bladed weapon in front of him. Bandon's grin expanded as he realized that he had hit a nerve.
"She was incredible...when I didn't have to beat her down, that is. I envy the nights you two must've had."
"I never touched her," Revan said, his voice low and deadly. Out of his peripheral vision, he saw Jolee fell the other Sith that had survived the blast. Bandon tried to use Force lightning on Revan while he was distracted, but the former Dark Lord simply stopped it with his two lightsabers, letting them absorb the energy.
"That's a quite a shame. Bastila has a wonderful body."
ZAP!
"That you've violated, you sick fuck!" Revan shouted, striking out at Darth Bandon again with powerful, heavy blows.
"Argh...oof!"
He had shoved his foot into the bald man's groin, sending him to his knees for a few seconds, but Bandon had rolled out of the way of Revan's next sweep. It didn't matter; Revan wasn't trying anyway. Unfortunately for him, Bandon had taken this as Revan being weaker than he really was, and he continued to taunt mercilessly, not realizing that he was bringing himself closer to his death with each word he spoke.
"Her skin is silky smooth," he stated arrogantly, enjoying the look of barely suppressed rage on Revan's face. "And she has these perfect breasts..." Bandon blocked one of Revan's attacks, "I just want to go back to the Star Forge and scre –"
He stopped and looked down in disbelief to see a violet blade of energy thrust through his abdomen. Darth Bandon blinked as his brain tried to comprehend where he had gone wrong. Revan's red lightsaber had been coming at his right side, but he had blocked that one. The violet blade...it had started out on a path to cut across him, but had changed and dropped out of his field of vision, avoiding the other half of his double-bladed lightsaber, easily piercing his armor and flesh. The last thing that Darth Bandon saw was Revan's face, the pain behind his eyes, and the regret etched on his features before the hum of a lightsaber and then nothing.
Jolee could sense the pain coming from inside of Revan through the Force, and it nearly caused him to take a step back. The guilt and the torment that the young man held inside was immense, and Jolee feared for the well-being of his friend. Revan had yet to remember anything he had done, and he had done many horrible things; Jolee didn't know if the man could take that without breaking. But as suddenly as Revan's pain had increased, it receded again to some place deep within him that Jolee could not touch with the Force.
"Revan," he said, able to call him by his real name since no one else was around. The look he received from his companion prevented him from speaking, though he wished to say something, anything, that was comforting.
"You know me Jolee," Revan said quietly. "I'll deal with this on my own."
The older Jedi didn't bother to argue, knowing that Revan was right. If anyone could take a burden like this, it would be him – and he would come out stronger because of it. Carth just shook his head when Jolee glanced his way, expressing the helplessness that they both felt in one gesture. Their friend was determined to do this on his own, and there was nothing they could say to change that.
Revan felt awed as he passed under the massive pillars that slanted over to make an entrance to the Valley of the Dark Lords. A myriad of students at various dig sites milled around, talking with one another, working, or taking a small respite from the brutally hot sun. Revan took a brief moment to look around him at the massive statues that dotted the barren landscape, all seeming to depict humanoid forms in bowing positions. Four tombs, two on each side of him, were visible, and various plasteel cylinders and metal boxes sat in front of them. None of the students seemed to want anything to do with them, however. Remembering that Yuthura had told him that the tomb of Naga Sadow was not accessible right now, Revan made a note to avoid it. Walking to his right, the first tomb he came upon was the tomb of Ajunta Pall. He opened the doors and waited as they slid apart, stepping inside once they were done moving.
When the doors slid shut behind them, Revan was immediately immersed in darkness, his eyes not accustomed to the dim lighting. Using the Force until his sight cleared, he managed to avoid the debris and mines that littered the floor. Two Tuk'ata attacked the group, but between two Jedi and a skilled Republic soldier, they posed an almost pathetic threat. Running a hand through his hair, which still managed to stick straight up like it was gelled, even without his help; Revan found that it was covered in dust. Pausing, he looked around and realized that a steady blanket of dust was falling from every crack and rock in the ceiling, coating him, his friends, and everything else in the tomb in a grey snow. Ignoring this small nuisance, Revan noticed a bridge in front of him, spanning a rather large gap, blocked by an obelisk. To the right of the bride, on a another long pillar of solid ground, four attack droids slept, deceptively calm. His brain began to calculate the situation, and he approached the obelisk cautiously. Opening the small compartment it held he found nothing; drawing his lightsaber, Revan tapped it against the obelisk and wasn't surprised when it didn't slice through the stone. Deactivating his blade and replacing it on his belt, he studied the problem.
"Hmm...there's nothing in the obelisk...but maybe..." he muttered to himself. Taking out a grenade, Revan armed it and placed it in the compartment, jogging back to where his friends were – an already safe distance. With a thundering explosion made all the louder by the echoing, cavernous walls, the four attack droids sprung to life and powered up their shields.
"Well crap," he grunted. Scanning the room once more, Revan spotted a lever at the other end of the bridge. "Hey, c'mon!"
Sprinting across the narrow stone passage, the trio skidded to a halt and took cover behind a large chunk of stone that had fallen from the ceiling. Revan smacked the lever as they ran by, and a succession of four explosions informed him that the lever had indeed controlled the droids. Helping Carth and Jolee up, Revan led the way into another hallway of the tomb that branched right and ended with a door.
Revan felt odd when he caught sight of this door, an invisible hand pulling at him to enter the room beyond. His curiosity bested him, and he opened the door, feeling an immense sadness strike him as he did so. Confused but not about to turn back, Revan stepped over the threshold and walked up to the sarcophagus that housed Ajunta Pall's remains. The outer shell of the sarcophagus slid down and away as he approached, leaving the real coffin for all to view. Revan pulled the two doors open slowly, seeing first a decayed, skeletal body, and then three swords. Perplexed, he retrieved all three of them, handing one to Jolee and one to Carth, keeping the third one in his own hands. The trio felt a chill sweep through the room, and they all turned toward the only exit to the room – the door they had just come through – to find a ghostly apparition standing before them.
"Too long...too long in the cold and the dark. I am disturbed again? A human..." the spirit said mournfully.
"Tread carefully. This a spirit full of the Force, and I sense much sorrow and regret in him. Watch your words," Jolee whispered in his left ear.
"Do...I know you? It seems as if we have met before..." the spirit trailed.
"Ah...I don't believe we've ever met," Revan replied.
"Oh really?" the blue apparition said sadly. "You are strong in the Force; it is bright within you. You remind me of someone I knew long ago."
"Who, or what, are you?" Revan asked rather bluntly.
"I...had a name once. Ajunta Pall. That was my name. I was one of many, many who defied and left, betrayed and fell."
"What do you mean betrayed?"
"We were the first to break free, to deny the teachings of our Jedi Masters. We hid from them...surely you can see what we did? They did not destroy us...we destroyed ourselves."
"You are an ancient Sith Lord, are you not?"
Ajunta looked up with surprise, his eyes, had they not been a shimmering blue like the rest of him, would have been yellow-grey and full of shock. "Has it been so long that I am to be called 'ancient'? Oh...tell me, did the Sith die out?" he inquired.
"The dark side will always thrive. You must know that."
"Yes," he responded darkly. "After all this time and yet we still have not learned our lesson. Our secrets we took to our graves...and I cannot...cannot remember."
"Was it a Star Map?" Revan asked, refusing to let fickle hope rise within him.
"A map...maybe. I do not know. I cannot be of more help on this. The only thing I have left...my sword. I poured all of my pride into that sword. It is buried with me. But...after all of this time...I do not remember which the right blade is."
"Pardon?" Revan was lost.
"Oh, I am sorry. I want you to take my sword away from here."
"What do you want me to do with it?"
"If you are wise," Ajunta warned, "you will not keep it. But as I said, I do not remember which sword is mine."
"If I pick the wrong sword?" Revan asked hesitantly.
"Then you will...die. It must be this way."
"Right. It's always that way," Revan murmured. "The statue?"
Ajunta nodded. "I wish you well."
Revan turned, walking to the statue of Ajunta Pall and inspecting it. One hand was extended, the one he would place the sword in, and he paid particular attention to that, but it yielded nothing. The sword that he was currently holding was a vibroblade that had an energy buffer around the blade and was cool to the touch. He switched it with the one that Jolee was holding: a silver blade that shined brightly as he grasped it, its hilt becoming almost painfully hot. A fiery eye was emblazoned on the side. Shaking his head, Revan took the double-bladed sword that Carth was holding and noticed that it was notched. As soon as he touched it, he felt dark energy pulsing through it, alive within it, and he knew it was the blade of Ajunta Pall. Stepping up on the statue, he placed the sword in the outstretched hand and heard it "clink" into place.
"Ah yes...that is my blade," Ajunta said from across the room. "Please, take it away from here."
"I will do as you ask," Revan said, "but I wish to know something. Why are you so sad? I would've expected you to be angry and vengeful."
Ajunta's mask-covered face still managed to show lament. "I am...regretful for all of the things I have done. They torment me...and I cannot escape this hell."
"Surely you can atone for your sins," Revan stated uncertainly. "I mean...I am," he said quietly.
"You?" Ajunta asked. "What have you done? I sense no darkness in you."
Revan blinked and gave the spirit an odd look. "That can't be possible. I was Dark Lord of the Sith less than a year ago. I was nearly killed, but a woman saved my life. I was brainwashed by the Jedi Order, and sent on a mission to retrieve Star Maps to find the location of something called the Star Forge. I'm still on that mission, and I only recently found out that I was Revan, my true identity. And you say you sense no darkness in me?"
Ajunta shook his head slowly. "None, young one. And I know darkness. There is a taint within you – a shadow – but your heart is pure, as is your soul."
Revan opened his mouth and closed it several times, unable to think of a response.
"It that so surprising to you?"
"I...well I just assumed that I had...I mean, I was Darth Revan," he emphasized.
"Do you know of your past? There is much confusion within you...the Force swirls tempestuously around you like a storm," Ajunta observed.
Revan shook his head. "No, I don't remember anything that I've done. Nothing of great importance, at least. Other than finding a few Star Maps, and visions of myself punishing my apprentice...and an old woman, nothing."
"That is not all you have seen, I believe. I have been around long enough to hear the lies of men. You do not hide much from me, Revan," Ajunta said gently.
Revan was surprised and slightly scared at the spirit's ability to see right through him. But why did he need to know about his visions?
"With all due respect spirit, why are my memories relevant?"
"Because I feel that you are instrumental in this time period. Only those with a blinding affinity to the Force tend to change or make history. There are exceptions to that rule, but very few. And you may call me Ajunta, young one."
"Alright then. The most recent vision I had was very short, and didn't make much sense to me at all. I saw a red-skinned people, humanoid but alien, an incredible temple on what looked like a beach world, grey-skinned aliens in front of the temple chanting, black robes – I don't know whose, some sort of dark magic, and then a face..." Revan shuddered and stopped.
"A face?" Ajunta pressed.
"It...I think it was something near human. Its nose was cut off though, almost like a snout...and its teeth were razor sharp like animals. It had scars everywhere...part of the skin over its head was pulled back from the skull – I have no idea how – and the last thing I remember was feeling like I was freezing cold when I looked at that face."
"This was a race of people, you think?"
"I don't know. It's possible."
"These 'red-skinned humanoids' you speak of, did they have long tentacle-like beards?"
Revan took a breath, thinking. "I think I saw two different kinds of species. One of them did have beards, yes. The others...they were huge beast like things."
Ajunta looked at Revan gravely from behind his mask. "The first race you speak of is the Sith. True Sith, as they were before interbreeding with the fallen Jedi."
"True Sith?" Revan interrupted. "That's what triggered the memory," he muttered. "Please...I'm sorry. Continue."
"The second race though...I am not quite sure. It was the work of one of my successors, no doubt, but how long after me, I do not know."
"You said earlier that you wanted me to take your sword from the tomb. Why?" Revan asked, changing subjects.
"I wish to become one with the Force, but I cannot do so while my sword still rests in my tomb. The darkness traps me like an animal," Ajunta explained sorrowfully.
"You can come back to the light, Ajunta. No one is condemned to that kind of darkness forever."
"I...do you think...? Surely, it is possible. It has to be..." Ajunta rambled to himself. Turning back to Revan, he gave the young man a relieved smile. "I thank you for what you have done for me. Please, take my sword and go. I feel we will speak again...though when, I am not certain."
Revan retrieved Ajunta Pall's blade from the statue and turned back to bid farewell to the spirit, only to find him already gone. Walking gradually out of the dusty, dimly lit burial room, Revan heard Ajunta's voice one last time.
"I wish you luck on your quest, Revan. Your love for her is strong, yet she does not know it. She will need you soon. Be strong."
Revan's head snapped around to stare behind him, but all he saw were Jolee and Carth's faces, both looking at him with an expression that suggested they thought he had finally lost it.
"You didn't hear that?" he asked slowly.
"Great – now he's schizophrenic!" Carth exclaimed.
"I am not!" Revan snapped. "Did you hear it or not?"
"We didn't hear anything," Jolee said with an apologetic shrug.
The former Sith Lord turned without a word, lost in his own thoughts as he navigated the corridors to the tomb's exit. He almost didn't notice the man standing just inside the entrance, seemingly waiting for something.
"So you've finally managed to retrieve Ajunta Pall's blade. That is sure to gain considerable prestige in Master Uthar's eyes," the man, whom Revan recognized as Shaardan, said. "And that is why I'll be taking it from you."
"Like hell you will," Revan said resolutely.
"Now, now, there is no need for violence. Just hand over the sword."
"No," Revan insisted roughly. "Go raid your own tomb. I didn't come here just to do your dirty work for you."
"Give me the sword," Shaardan growled menacingly.
"You're not getting that blade. Sorry."
Revan tried to walk past Shaardan, but was stopped by the snap-hiss of the Sith student igniting a lightsaber and thrusting it in his path. Closing his eyes for a moment, Revan tried desperately to keep himself calm.
"You don't want to do that," he warned quietly.
"I won't have to if you'll just hand over the sword."
"I already said no, and I don't persuade easily."
Shaardan's face twisted with anger and he slashed at Revan who sidestepped the swipe and grabbing Shaardan's wrist, twisted it back around to point at its owner, pushing forward and impaling the student on his own blade. Shaardan gurgled unintelligibly as he slumped to the floor; Revan watched him die with an air of detached sadness.
Revan couldn't take it anymore – he had to rest. The trip back to the Academy seemed to take ages, and he carefully avoided Uthar, not willing to tell the Sith Master about Ajunta's blade. Placing all of his new weapons in the footlocker at the edge of his bunk, Revan wearily stripped of his armor. Carth and Jolee had their own beds in the same section as his, and they retired as well. The memory of Darth Bandon's look of disbelief as he stared down at Revan's violet lightsaber jutting out of his stomach flooded his mind as he stared up at the stone ceiling. Ajunta's last statement to him echoed in his brain as he slipped off into unconsciousness, and he prayed that he would be in time to save Bastila.
