Come What May

He walked through the empty halls alone, the low whispers of the wind filling the background, as his footsteps echoed throughout the empty chamber. Nothing but broken and eroded columns lay within the once pristine and noble chambers of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant.

Hardly anything lived within the home of the Jedi anymore.

It struck a chord in his heart, as he brought a gloved hand towards his chest, touching the fabric of his armour. The beat of his heart added to the symphony of natural and perturbing sounds that filled the ruins of the Temple.

The setting sun's light shed through the empty corridors, bathing the broken paths and highlighting the once silvery, marble walls and floors with slits of crimson. At one time, it may have been a beautiful and wondrous sight to behold, but now it only chilled the man's bones.

His black cloak covered most of his frame, and the hood did well to hide his face, revealing the tip of his nose. He continued to walk towards a hallway, his shadow casting itself long against the backdrop of the room. Only a faint whirring sound came from the movements within his voluminous cloak.

He walked through several more empty, yet eroded hallways, passing through the upper levels of the Temple, making his way towards the one place he felt a small tug of life from.

It was faint, but somehow, it seemed ready to collapse into itself—almost as if it once carried a great burden.

His gloved hand—his right hand—moved up towards his chest, as he felt the small diamond shaped wooden pendant that swayed gently under his armour and shirt. "Bastila," he whispered, hearing it faintly echo across the hallway where he now walked. It had been a gift from his beloved during their time on the wookiee homeworld of Kashyyyk. It had been carved out of a fallen wroshyr tree branch. On the pendant was a wookiee symbol for strength and honour.

He continued to walk towards the chamber in front of him, seeing a closed battered door. Just behind it, the small tug of life was withering away. His hand dropped, slightly stroking the worn and older blaster of a friend he had been forced to leave as well. "Carth," he whispered, once more. The blaster had been a gift—something the older man had given up as a present. It contained the Onasi family crescent. I consider you to be a member of the family, Revan, the man had once said.

His left arm whirred faintly, as he flexed his hand, feeling the mechanical instruments work its wonders. Undoubtedly the Mandalorian, Canderous Ordo, would be impressed with the souvenir.

He paused in front of the door, as he took a moment to reflect on those dark events that had blossomed into stopping the Sith from saturating the Galaxy. In all of his being, Revan was composed of things that reminded him of his companions. He wore a gauntlet from the wookiee Zaalbar; the ability to infiltrate facilities from the abilities of his former assassin droid, HK-47; he carried the skills of slicing through computer terminals and security protocols from both the Twi'lek, Mission Vao and the utility droid, T3-M4.

The faint breeze shook the Jedi's cloak, throwing back the hood and revealing his light skin, long unruly hair and his neatly trimmed goatee, which he grew as a reminder of the wizened Jolee Bindo's lessons.

If it hadn't been for his companions, he would have truly been lost to the Force—and consumed by the power of the Dark Side.

His life was all that he kept from Juhani. It pained him slightly in his heart that the Cathar had given up her life, sacrificing herself to save Revan from falling to the fate she did. He remembered the events clearly in his mind, almost as if they were but the day before.

She had rushed to face Malak on the Starforge, deflecting his lightsaber before the Sith could bring it down and kill Revan. The Sith Lord had used his powers of the Force to send Revan flying back, and was eager to take the kill.

Juhani had bought the Jedi precious moments by giving up her life.

She had fought intensely with the Sith Lord, knowing that she could never defeat him, however, she somehow endured long enough for Revan to rise and unleash his full power as a true Guardian of Peace and Justice. She had been impaled right through the lungs, watching helplessly as Revan faced Dark Lord of the Sith in a final showdown.

It was because of Juhani that Revan still lived as a Jedi Knight.

It was because of Revan that Juhani didn't give herself to the Dark Side and ultimately fulfilled her destiny, becoming the final guiding Light in Revan's redemption.

He sighed and pushed open the doors, hearing the whine and groans in protest as they opened wide. His eyes went wide with horror at what lay before him.

The bodies of everyone he had known—even the Jedi—lay strewn across the circular chambers of the Jedi Council.

The bodies of Carth, Dante, Mission, Forn, Zaalbar, Jolee, Juhani—even Malak—and many more, lay in a perfect pattern, as their heads surrounded the five figures within the circle of corpses.

Two older women—one clearly his Bastila—holding each other, with a little girl in between them.

The child appeared to have the black hair of Revan, but the soft features of Bastila.

Before he could mutter the child's name, he realized the trio had been petrified into that position, becoming nothing more than mere statues of indefinable horror.

Revan clenched his fists, as he walked towards the trio of girls, his heart's beat banging against his eardrums. A lump formed in his throat, as his mouth went dry. He saw the other woman and saw her for who she really was.

Her dark hair, her oceanic blue eyes had told him all.

She was he

"I know you," he whispered, as he gazed towards her, casting a finger across her cheek. "Rena, the one from my dreams." His eyes shifted upward, noticing the final two figures.

One was a woman clad in black; her short white hair did nothing to hide the regal posture of the former Jedi Master Atris. She was the one who was holding on to life.

"What have I done?" She whispered, her chest heaving as she gulped in deep breath after deep breath. Her hands were stained with blood and she had fallen to her knees.

"You have done what was needed of you," voiced another figure—a man. His long black hair covered his eyes, but the dark red glints within them promised much more bloodshed to come. "Your time has come." He was clad all in black, wearing armoured shin pads over his boots, and armour that covered his left-most part of his chest and shoulders. His left arm was clad in a black metallic gauntlet that also covered his hand. The figure's right arm was covered in the black tunic underneath the armour, with a black glove covering his right hand.

Revan eyed them curiously, as the wave and shimmering of his surroundings continued unabated.

The dark clad figure stood behind Atris, as he brought both of his hands on her shoulders, then bringing his right hand up to caress the fallen woman's face.

She tilted her head affectionately towards the hand, as it wiped away the tears that formed across her face. "I can't go back now," she sobbed.

"Shh," the figure said, clearly unaware of Revan's presence. "It will all be over soon. Would you like it all to be over?"

She nodded her head almost as if she were a young child. "Yes, I want it all to be over."

The red glint in the figure's eyes twinkled, as he smiled, revealing a set of perfect sharp, ivory teeth. "Good." His dark, palpable voice seemed unable to ignore. The melodic rhythms in his voice filled the hollow room, causing Atris to hark to him as a Saint.

Atris moaned and tried to scream as both hands began to cover her face, crushing her. She began to scream and flail, as blood began to stream down her cheeks, soiling her black gown. "I want to live!" She screamed, as the maniacal cackling of the dark figure continued.

Revan looked on in horror and disgust as he moved towards them, watching as blue swirls raced across the figures arms, moving towards his chest.

In a flash, it was over.

Atris' crumpled and lifeless form fell to the ground, as the figure brought both of his hands high over his heads.

"It is done!" He pronounced, squealing in delight, as he circled the Chambers. "Atris, I release you from your tormented life. You have served me and I shall never forget it." As he opened his mouth once more to speak, he paused, feeling the gentle tingling of hairs rising at the back of his neck. Whirling around, he saw a shimmering of Light. "No," he hissed.

Revan's eyes narrowed as he realized that the figure now saw him. He began to walk towards the obvious Sith Lord, staring intently into the dark figure's eyes. "I won't let this happen," he said fiercely.

"You fool," the tall figure hissed, suddenly appearing somehow mangled and marred. "It already has begun. You won't stop me, traitor!"

"We'll see about that," Revan replied evenly.

"You think the Force will prevail in you? The one who walks in the Force shall never awaken—your line will be broken! Once more the Sith shall rule! I shall rule!"

"No, the Jedi shall defeat you."

The dark figure chuckled, as he ran a gloved hand through his black hair, revealing pure red irises and pupils, leaving no trace amount of colour in his eyes whatsoever. "It's already begun—Atris has seen to the dissolution of your vaunted Order. She was a tool, just like you were once. You'll fail—it's all been set in motion by the Lords." The figure revealed a crimson blade, slashing and snarling at the same time.

Revan watched the blade come whirling towards him, seeking to find itself within the Knight's chest.


"Bastila!" Revan rose from his cot, panting heavily, bringing a hand to run across his matted hair. The visions through the Force had been nothing new to him—he had endured it for a long time. It was a small price to pay for the atrocities he had committed. His mind had been focused on Bastila, as he felt the weakening of their bond. That was another price he had to pay, but he paid it willingly, knowing that he now fought for her and the future of their child.

His daughter. It took him moments to realize the child was his, but he found his thoughts turned to one of the final visions that caused him to leave. He thought his child was a boy, who'd eventually command a legion of soldiers clad in white with blue stripes across their armour. The young man bore some familiar resemblance to Revan, but the Jedi couldn't be sure who the young man was.

He shook his head and rose, realizing he was wearing nothing more than his dark breeches and a light undershirt. He looked around and realized he was in his quarters on board his cruiser. He moved towards his desk, while his pendant dangled across his chest.

Holding a finger on a switch on the silver table before him, a voice replied.

"Yes, sir?"

He slowed his breathing, blinking multiple times. "Inform our old friends that their time has come. Their resurgence is needed now, more than ever."

"Yes, sir," the voice replied crisply.

Revan ran his hand through his hair again, the light whirring of his cybernetic arm joining the hum of the cruiser he was aboard. "Tell them to make their way to Coruscant—I fear the enemy has made their move and we're in no position to launch a counterstrike."

He removed his hand from the switch, closing the channel and allowed his mind to turn to the recent chain of events that had occurred. His motley fleet had walked into an ambush near Bespin on a refuel mission. Somehow the Sith had gained the drop on the fleet and that only led him to suspect one thing: subterfuge.

There was a traitor in their midst and not even he nor Theresa or the other Jedi they had collected had been able to determine who was the traitor.

Either way, the ragtag fleet had suffered heavy losses. Deep space seemed to be their only refuge for now, until they made their way towards Hoth—an exceptionally remote star system surround by asteroids. It provided an excellent outpost during his previous war efforts.

He could only hope this crusade would succeed. It was bad enough his scouts reported the massing of several Sith battle groups—all of the vessels being a courtesy present from the former Darth Revan and the Starforge—at the edge of known space. If they were already launching their invasion, undeterred by what Revan's forces were doing, then it appeared the Galaxy would suffer for countless millennia under the despotic rule of the Sith.

Revan ran his hand through his matted hair again, as his sweat stained body tingled with the cool air that ran in the ship's ventilation system. Someone's playing us for fools. I can only hope Theresa finds out whom the person is, otherwise we're all dead. He looked around and sighed before he checked his chronometer on his wrist. "2 more hours until my shift," he muttered. What do I do? He turned around and faced the large transparisteel glass that protected him from the harsh environment of space, while it revealed to him the glory and splendour of what he was fighting for.

"Guess I could always go out for a run," he muttered. He threw on his boots and paused as another image of a face that bore a similarity to his own crossed his mind.

She had long hair, cut short to her shoulders with skin fairer than his own, yet her eyes betrayed her lineage. Somehow she was linked to the former Dark Lord, and more to the point, he found it curious that she seemed to be in some form of trouble that involved everyone he had known. It hadn't been the first time he had seen her, and her name came back to him almost as if it were his own.

It was a name he found himself coming to know every passing night. It was someone who he had found himself growing to know. "Rena…"


Author's Note: Well, now you have it: Revan and his campaigning against the Sith. This was a chapter that kind of sprouted up when I was contemplating the KOTOR Battle of Coruscant. Up next, we see Atris tie up some lose ends and we witness the full blown battle where the Republic Dissidents/Sith Remnant vs. the Republic. Plus we'll see how Bastila and Dustil work out as Master and Apprentice, as well as a surprise guest.