Author's WARNING: This chapter contains a graphic battle sequence with descriptive violence. If you are underage or morally opposed to such descriptions, please do not read this chapter.

Chapter Five: Sliver

Revan was consumed by the darkness. It surrounded him like a thick blanket, at first comforting, then restricting. He couldn't see, couldn't think. At first Revan lashed out, fighting back at the obsidian cloak that strangled him but to no avail. Revan felt the panic begin to well up in his heart, hopelessness clouded his mind, fear grasped him by the throat. And just as Revan opted to break down and cry out, the black was split open by a sliver of red. A portal began to form in the darkness, bleeding crimson like a wound. Revan's fear and panic abated and he began to move towards the wound in the pitch.

Stepping through, Revan was momentarily flash blinded by the red. When his vision cleared he was in a room. He couldn't make out the details of the walls or of anything in the room, but he suddenly felt his was not alone. Turning back to where he had entered the room, Revan found that the passage that had allowed him access had disappeared. Instead he saw two men not that much older than himself. One had a strange marking on his forehead but both wore Jedi robes and both held a strange pyramid shaped device in their cupped hands between themselves. The two men were staring intently at the device and neither seemed to notice that Revan was even there.

As Revan moved closer to the two men he got a better look at the device they held. Suddenly he realized what he was looking at. Kreia had once told him about holocrons. These devices had been used for millennia by both Jedi and Sith to record teachings and some were even used for preserving the most powerful or arcane Force techniques. For the most part they were only reserved for Jedi Knights or Masters, and Revan had even heard that in the Jedi Archives in the Temple on Coruscant were kept Sith holocrons that could only be accessed by Jedi Masters, and even then most never looked at them. Kreia had claimed to have seen them when she was in charge of the Archives, but never said whether or not she had actually viewed what was recorded on them.

The two men seemed to be utterly entranced by the holocron, but as Revan came even closer they both looked up at him. There was almost a lustful look in their eyes, a look of desire. It was a look of ravenous hunger, a hunger for information for knowledge; a look Revan had had himself many times in his life. Revan understood then that all the knowledge they sought was in that holocron clutched in their hands. The first man, the one with the strange marking on his forehead began to speak to Revan.

"It is your turn next brother."

"Your destiny is arriving," the other man said.

"We are coming," the first man said.

"The Republic needs you…," the other man began.

Then the first man reached down to his belt. From it hung what looked like a lightsaber hilt, but it was far longer and more ornate than he had ever seen. The man took it from his belt and held it out vertically. Depressing an unseen activation plate, the lightsaber hummed to life, a blue blade shooting out first from one side, then from the other. Revan had heard about double-bladed lightsabers but had never seen one. They were frowned upon by the Masters as being too violent, too vicious. Their purpose was obvious. They were designed to get the most cutting surface per swing, and unlike their single blade counterparts, there was no mistaking this weapon as a tool that could be used for peaceful acts. This was a weapon engendered by the killing arts.

"…But you are not ready. Not yet!" The first man finished, and with a fluid motion he swung his duel-bladed lightsaber around and stabbed it through Revan's heart. Revan's mind exploded with pain. He tried to cry out but his voice failed him. White hot anguish consumed him and he became one with it.

And then, just a quickly as the blade had entered his heart, the pain was gone and Revan was whole again, himself again. Revan looked down at his chest but there was nothing there but his robes. But these weren't his robes. Revan was suddenly wearing black robes like he had never seen before, and there also seemed to be something odd about the way he was seeing things. Then Revan realized he was wearing some type of mask. He touched it with his black gloved hands and it felt smooth and covered his entire face.

Looking around then Revan saw that he was on a hillside over looking a plain. On this plain he saw soldiers in armor stretching out before him infinitely into the horizon. Across from them he saw a pathetic band of Republic citizens. Their weapons were antiquated and they had no armor. The mass of soldiers began to march on the Republic citizens, but before they could cross the plain completely, the Republic citizens began cowering and kneeing in supplication. They were giving up, and Revan could see in them nothing but weakness. Anger welled up in Revan's chest. He found himself hating the Republic citizens for their weakness. Why didn't they fight? Why didn't they stand up for themselves? Even if they died at the hands of the advancing soldiers, at least they would die fighting. The rage overtook Revan and he found himself Force-jumping down onto the battlefield. Suddenly his lightsabers were in his hands and ignited and he found that he could connect them in the middle to form his own double-bladed lightsaber.

Revan, his vision clouded by the red, began to cut down the armored soldiers. Their armor parted for his blades like butter being cut by a plasma-welder. He kept killing and they kept coming. The bodies began piling up around him, as his blades continued to spin and cut, rending arms and legs from torsos, heads from necks. And then, when it seemed as if the throng of soldiers would never end, Revan was done. Bodies in pieces laid scattered about him and his cloak was drenched in the blood of thousands, it dripped from his mask and hit the ground tapping out a steady rhythm.

Revan turned to the Republic citizens. They were still cowering, but one by one they began bowing to Revan, singing his praises and looking upon him as one looks upon the image of a god. Revan saw in them nothing but growing weakness. They had faced no challenge and were weaker for it. Their lives had been handed to them and all they could do with them was genuflect like religious sheep prostrating themselves before their deity.

Anger retook Revan's mind. Their weakness disgusted him in ways he could not have imagined. Then Revan was upon them, his blade cutting into yielding flesh. In a heartbeat they were dead, all of them, cut down like the soldiers though offering no fight at all. Then Revan was alone, standing in a sea of blood and bodies. And then Revan heard laughing.

Spinning around to face the source of the laughter, Revan saw another man covered in armor. This armor he recognized from a mission he had been on once with Kreia when he had still been a Padawan. He recognized the T-shaped visor in the helmet, this was a Mandalorian. The Mandalorian he had seen on his mission with Kreia had been nothing more than a mercenary, but he knew from his history lessons that they had once joined with some Dark Jedi against the Republic in the Great Sith War, but that they had been left without any resources for war by the Republic, shamed and scattered.

The Mandalorian before Revan now seemed neither shamed nor scattered, and appeared to be much more than a merc. The Mandalorian sat down in a throne and it was then that Revan noticed someone else in the shadows behind the Mandalorian. The figure itself was nothing more than a shadow, but Revan could see a dark smile on its face. The figure placed a black hand on the Mandalorian's shoulder and the Mandalorian began laughing again and in one hand he picked up the holocron the two men had held. Anger welled up in Revan once more, but before he could do anything the Mandalorian raised his blaster and fired. The bolt seemed to move faster than even Revan's Force-enhanced perceptions. Unable to move fast enough to deflect the bolt with his lightsaber, the bolt struck Revan in the heart and the pain returned to Revan's mind. Revan shouted.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Revan sat bolt upright in his bed. Sweat poured down his face and his body was shaking uncontrollably. All Revan could hear was the sound of his ragged breathing and the racing of his heart. Then he heard something else. His sleeping quarters' door chime activated, and Revan realized it had been going for a while.

Revan composed himself and pulled on his tunic and pants. Walking over to the door he depressed the door activation panel and the door slid open to reveal Kreia.

"Master?" Revan said in confusion, still trying to catch his breath.

"You seem distressed my young friend," Kreia looked at Revan with sightless eyes, but her features betrayed a concern that most never received from the older woman.

"It…it's nothing Master. Just a dream…nothing more," Revan said avoiding her gaze.

"Sometimes a…dream…can be a herald of the Force, especially for those of us so sensitive to it," Kreia said, her features once again concealing her feelings.

"I haven't been prone to visions before Master; I don't see why the Force would deem to send me one now."

"Many things of the Force are at best…perplexing," Kreia said stepping into the sleeping quarters.

"And at the worst?" Revan asked trying to break the tension he still felt in his chest with a little humor.

"Downright confusing," Kreia returned once more looking at her former Padawan. "Though I did not come here to analyze your 'dreams'."

"Why did you come Master?" Revan asked suddenly realizing that it was still early in the morning and Revan had not expected a visit from his former Master today.

"Master Zhar and Master Dorak have informed the Masters here at the Enclave that we are needed on Coruscant. I have come to let you know I will not be available for our next lightsaber match."

"Needed on Coruscant? What for?"

"It was not made completely clear my young friend, but from what I do understand, there has been an attack by the Mandalorians."

"What kind of an attack by the Mandalorians would warrant all the Jedi Masters on Dantooine to have to go to Coruscant?" Revan asked.

"Not just the Masters on Dantooine, my former apprentice," Kreia said running her fingers along a small statue the Revan kept on the desk in his quarters. The statue was the only thing Revan had from his home planet. He realized that some of his Masters hadn't approved. After all, Jedi were not supposed to have any ties to their former lives outside the Order, but Revan had never understood that rule, and he felt he never would. Kreia turned to look at Revan once more before continuing. "All the available Masters in the Order have been called back to Coruscant. I feel, my young friend, that this matter is quite dire."

Revan thought about this for a moment. The recent feeling of pain in his heart from the dream blaster bolt flared up for a moment. Something about this whole thing touched Revan with fear, but pushed it down into the depths of himself from whence it came.

"Well, I guess we can always reschedule our match for when you come back," Revan said changing the subject.

"I'm afraid our regular interaction will no longer be a luxury we can rely on. You are a Jedi Knight now Revan, not a Padawan. You have no real home anymore I'm afraid. Soon the High Council will assign you a mission and you will find that it may be many years before you get a chance to come back here to Dantooine. A Jedi's life is always in motion, in more ways than one." Kreia began walking back to the door of the sleeping quarters. She turned back to Revan and once more gazed into his eyes with blind eyes. "I have…truly valued our time together my dear friend. You were one of my greatest students, and I would like to say…one of my dearest friends."

Kreia graced Revan with one of her rare full smiles. Revan had only ever seen it once before in his life. He had been a youngling of six, years before Kreia had even taken him as her Padawan. He had been running through the Training Enclave chasing a younger female who was at that time chasing young Malak. Malak had accidentally knocked over a rather large tower of blocks the girl had been constructing while Revan and Malak had been play lightsaber dueling with some sticks they had found and their battle had gotten a little out of control.

Revan had tripped over his feet during the chase and landed on the hard duracrete ground, skinning his knees and tearing his pants. He had sat there for a moment just staring at his bloody knees, and in the meantime Malak and the girl had gotten further away. Kreia had observed the whole thing and came over to the young Revan.

"Are you hurt?" she had asked kneeing down to Revan's level. Revan looked at her and then back at his knees. He hadn't even started crying.

"I guess so, but I don't know what to do," Revan had said. He had sounded slightly confused, as if he should be reacting a certain way, but wasn't sure how. It was then that Kreia had graced him with her smile. It had lasted only a short moment, but it was quite clear to Revan.

"You are quite strong my young friend, but I think we should get you to a healer to tend to those knees," she had said taking Revan by the hand and lifting him to his feet.

"But what about Malak? That girl is chasing him," Revan said trying to see where his friend had gone to.

"Do not worry about young Malak and Bastila, that matter will sort itself out on its own. Come now my young friend," Kreia had said taking Revan by the hand to the infirmary.

Revan would learn later that the girl Bastila had fallen herself, skinning her knees as well. Unlike Revan, Bastila had cried until Malak, realizing that he was no longer being chased had turned and gone back to the young girl. Malak had comforted Bastila and taken her to the infirmary as well. Revan had spent the entire time the two were there glaring at young Bastila, and Bastila had matched him glare for glare.

The smile on the face of the Kreia in the here and now had faded as quickly as back then. Revan wasn't quite sure what to say. So many thoughts and emotions swarmed him like stingerflies.

"Thank you Master Kreia. I…just hope that I will be able to justify your training," Revan settled on. "Of all my masters I will actually miss being your Padawan, though I won't miss some of your more…perplexing training sessions."

It was Revan's turn to smile. His smile faded quickly too as something stirred in his chest. After a pause Revan looked again at Kreia.

"Master, I think I should join you."

"I am no longer your Master Revan, nor have I been for a while now nor has the Council summoned you to Coruscant. For what reason would you join me?"

"I just…I just feel that is were I must go. And besides, as you said I am a Jedi Knight now, and as the Council has not sent me on my first mission, there is no reason that I shouldn't be able to go to Coruscant."

Kreia lowered her hooded head and thought about this for a moment and then turned to leave Revan's quarters.

"If you are to join me, you must gather your things quickly. My transport will be leaving in one hour." And with that Kreia left Revan in his quarters.

Author's Note: Sorry this one took so long. I'm afraid I'm suffering from an extreme case of writer's block. I'm going to put this story on a slight hiatus until I can get back into the flow of things. I apologize to anyone who actually reads this :-)