KotOR Roots

Chapter 3

Author's Notes: Hi all, this is a really quick update, solely because of the amount of feedback I've received. OK on to the clearing up: This story takes place before the events of KotOR 1; during Revan and Bastila's childhood. Jolee Bindo did crash onto Kashyyk, but it doesn't specify exactly when. ;) SilverSentinal21, If you find out when he did, just send me another email. OK, so Kreia has not already fallen, however she was borderline before the Mandalorian wars (In my story) the old witch figured out a plan to rule them when she saw the opportunity. The entire story takes place at the Enclave on Dantooine, while Revan is making his visits during his time being taught by Kreia. And the whole "noir" thing was a result of fatigue. I'll try to slip one in every once in a while ;p Devoted99. Hope that's all cleared up… any questions, just email it to me, or submit it in the reviews.

"Hello, Bastila. Are you alright?" Revan was finally released from the embrace and had a chance to sit down; while she was explaining how she was fine. He slid a chair out from the sole table in his dim room. The walls were made out of solid Kashyykian Oak, preventing them from breaking when hit by the solid punching bag in the corner. It was falling apart. The room was impeccably clean, all of his tools in rows, according to their size. Various parts were scattered on the work desk, piled in, around and on datapads, containing various teachings of the Jedi. One stuck out like a sore thumb, by itself on his bed. Revan quickly tucked it away under his pillow. On the table, were two cups and Revan raised and poured Dantooinian wine.

Revan winked at Bastila as he poured, "I won't tell if you don't." She giggled and picked up her glass, taking a single sip, and trying to mask the fire in her mouth. Though she would never admit it, she had never drunk alcohol, aside from being discouraged, especially to the padawans; it slowed reflexes, messed with inhibitors and cluttered up hand-eye coordination. Bastila tried to remember all the rest of what it did, but forgot all that. She could try it now, she was safe here; with him.

Revan picked up his glass and downed it with one gulp. He smiled and poured himself some more.

"So, how is your training going?" Bastila poured into Katas, styles and force techniques she was learning. He simply sat there, actually interested in what she was talking about. There was no one here at the enclave she could talk to. But here, she felt as though could tell him anything. She finished her story, and he nodded.

"That's very impressive. Do you enjoy working with Master Vrook?"

"Enough about me, and training. How is your life going?" Bastila looked at him, she was adjusting to the wine… either that or she was drunk. She tried to pry it out of him with a look.

"OK." Revan never divulged what was going on with his life, his training or even his feelings. 'OK' was his response to everything tough. She remembered when the Council had decided to send him off with Kreia.

'The training will be extremely difficult, there'll be rigorous training schedule, and workouts. You will be put under tremendous stress, and in life-threatening situations, I hope you understand that." Vrook had said.

"OK."

"You are absolutely sure?"

"Yep."

Bastila was determined to get this out of him. So far, nothing; he was a rock.

"That's what you always say." She chuckled to herself. The smirk left her face, and she looked him in the eye, seriously. "I never thanked you, for saving me. I was just finished my Battle Meditation training that's why I couldn't fight. I'm- I'm sorry." She blushed and looked down, wondering silently to herself why she was rambling on. She could see the words in her head, but they came out all wrong. Calm down, think!

"There's no need to apologize." Revan reached over and lifted her head with his hand. She trembled. "I'm sorry I arrived late," he grinned widely, mocking her in a friendly way. He raised his hand quickly, silencing the laughter. He stood upright for a second. "Someone is coming." Bastila drained her glass, the last thing she needed now was Vrook finding out about her abandoning her training diet. The glasses and bottle drifted slowly up to the ceiling. No expression crossed Revan's face as he effortlessly manipulated them, keeping them all perfectly still, not spilling a drop. Bastila laughed as the door opened as Malak entered.

"Revan!" his eyes scanned the room catching Bastila's eye. "And, Bastila." He emphasized his lack of enthusiasm as he finished his sentence. His disdain of the Council's "poster girl" as he called her, but not to her face, and definitely not anywhere near Revan, had sparked when she had defeated him in sparring. While he was no match to Revan, he could still defeat Bastila, if he just had a second chance… and Revan was gone with Kreia. Strangely enough, Revan did everything in his power to keep her away from battle, whether it be sparring, hunting, or contest fighting. Also, he never allowed anyone to tell her what he had done; Malak found that particularly strange. He stopped talking when Revan rose. "Malak," he walked over and shook his hand, firmly. He glanced at Bastila, prompting her to get up.

While no one else knew, he was already aware that Malak didn't like Bastila; that was the main reason for seeking refuge. He felt anger towards Malak. Who couldn't lov- like her? He caught himself, no, no he definitely didn't; but she was so perfect, everything about her was so, so-. Revan was cut short from his thoughts was Master Vandar almost walked into his shins. Bastila walked into Revan, her hand placed on his back, wondering why he had stopped so suddenly, a chill ran up her spine.

Revan bowed deeply to Master Vandar. While he was well liked by the entire council, he felt a special affinity with Vandar. He thought it was because they were both Consulars, but he didn't know for sure.

"Ah, Revan, returned, you have. Much, we have to talk about." Vandar turned quickly with his cane by his side. Revan slowly released his grip from Bastila's forearm, dragging it slowly all the way to her fingertips. Bastila's back arched and Malak glowered in the corner of the room.

Anger and envy rolled off Malak. It will end some day, I will be the strongest.

Vandar walked forward, making it clear, Revan was the only one to come with him.

Bastila sighed, disappointed that their first meeting had ended such, but turned quickly staring right at Malak. "I think you should leave now." Malak rose off the seat he was currently occupying. He snickered as he left the room. He turned as he reached the threshold.

"I'll see you in the tournament… it isn't team now. You'll be all by yourself this time." He laughed near manically as he left.

How the hell did someone so… so… manipulative get into the order! So, so evil! She was stunned that she said that. The, the code; There is no emotion, there is peace. She breathed deeply, as she looked around for something to clean up. Nothing. She got up and opened the door, looked back with something catching her eye. A glistening datapad sat under his pillow. She walked over and picked it up. I shouldn't, well then maybe just a quick look. She turned on the datapad and started reading its contents.

Dear Bastila…

"And next up into the circle, our very own Jennyl & Ayala-Securai, who will be facing Bastila Shan, & yes, Revan." A muffled hush rushed through the crowd as the last team was announced.

Normally, teamed duels were strictly prohibited, but the Couracant council had had an overwhelming amount of entries for their Padawan training. Bastila Shan had originally been left out of the tournament, for she was in solitary training already; however, the fact that Vrook had suggested she be transferred to a more knowledgeable Master, Master Adoy, coupled with the return of Revan, had resulted in her entry. The Masters knew that they would be victorious; however by lowering their force power, it would teach them not to be completely reliant on the Force. The plan was that Master Vrook and Vandar would use their power to suppress, not drain both Revan and Bastila's force powers. That way, self-dependence and discipline would be learnt. They didn't see what was coming.

Jennyl walked into the ring, bowing to her opposition, she knew, even though she wasn't supposed to think so, that she was going to lose. She decided she was going to go out like a real Jedi… with a bang.

Ready? First to three solid strikes win! No force powers, only force guidance, understand? All four padawans nodded. Go!

Revan stood beside Bastila, analyzing both opponents. Ayala took offensive stance, while Jennyl took an unknown stance. Revan was confounded, wondering whether it was dominantly offensive, or defensive. Revan instinctively, against instruction, stepped in front of Bastila. They were not going to harm her. Bastila went to shove past him, but was put back by the commanding glare she was met with. While alone, he was lenient, but in battle, the field was his.

"Put in action, the plan must be." The short Master looked up at his much taller counterpart. They both took meditative stance; this was going to be interesting.

Revan reminded himself of what he had been confronted with earlier: "you are only harming her when you protect her while she is sparring. Out there is where you may do so, but in the dojo, the girl must fight by herself, independently." His Master had said so, so he reluctantly stepped to the side, allowing Bastila to move cautiously up. She may fight, but she will not be hurt, Revan thought to himself, I won't allow it. And on that note, the battle began.

Jennyl came down hard on Revan, determined to prove herself against a prodigy. Using an original style, she followed a pattern she had developed in her head. It was unshakable, a solid strategy.

Revan grinned under his combat mask, easily deflecting the blow to the ground and poking Jennyl in the ribs with his stick. Not hard enough, but enough to let her know, he won.

Jennyl felt anger as she turned and slashed for Revan's knee. Revan went to jump, yet felt a weight pulling him down. Shocked, he pulled his legs up as high as he could, however the effort was in vain as the staff connected with his ankle, spinning him in the air and causing him to come down on his stomach. 'What is going on?' Revan slid his foot around, and yanked Jennyl's out from under her, causing her to land on her back. He flipped up, using this time to assess whether or not he should help his ally.

Bastila was on the defense, Ayala was using two single blades, rather than a sword, allowing her to attack faster, harder. Bastila used the right point of her staff, swinging it back and forth, knocking away both swords. She saw an opening, ducked and struck right into the foe's chest. Yes! Revan would be proud she thought to herself.

Why was that her first thought?

"Point, one scored by Bastila Shan!" The crowed cheered, screaming encouraging phrases to both sides. Ayala got up, twirled her blades and got ready for the next round. Jennyl was up off the floor and was pissed. This was aggravating! How did Revan have the nerve not to strike, instead to just place it there! Was he taunting me? Treating me like a child? Perhaps a combination of both! Well that's It, she seethed, the next round; he'll see what he has coming.

Bastila shot a beaming grin to Revan, unaware that he had let her win. She blushed suddenly, as he walked over and congratulated her. "Great work, we're winning, let's keep it up." Bastila's fatigue faded completely away at his words; warmth ran through her. 'He said great work!' she though to herself.

Beep. The buzzer went and the fight started. Immediately Revan addressed Jennyl, throwing a hard shot to the right. Jennyl blocked and countered, but he was already there and hit the blade up over her head. He stabbed right for the stomach, intentionally going a little lethargically. She rolled to the right. Swung and grazed Revan's cloak.

I- I didn't see that coming, Revan thought to himself. He canceled that thought going again to jump and strike the top of Jennyl's skull. The blade met, and the weight drove him into the ground. His knees screamed under the pressure, however he rolled backwards. He had just risen; fell backwards, as the sharp edge brushed up against his nose. His back hit the ground, forcing the air out of his lungs. He landed a solid kick into Jen's stomach throwing her back, sliding into the corner, her head connecting, as she tried to recover. The crowd oooed.

Bastila was not fairing any better, attempting only one attack, which had failed miserably, she felt as though something was holding her back. Ayala was just attacking to fast, she had no time to analyze, or use the force, she could only react instinctively and according to her training. She ducked, going for the chest again, but Ayala knocked it down with her right saber and stomped it into the dirt. She drove the free blade towards Bastila's head. This, was going to hurt.

"Arg," Revan grunted to himself as he used mustered up all his resolve and blocked the blade from its current target. He stepped in front of fallen Bastila and was rapidly driving her back. A earsplitting cry pealed our from his chest. Suddenly, his attacks were calculating, fast, and extraordinarily forceful.

Vandar rose from meditating, "Futile, our attempts to stop him are."

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He drove Ayala back forcing her to the 'noir' soil and was about to finish her, when Jennyl swung for his ribs. He leaned back and countered leaping meters into the air.

"Ahh!" he screamed deafeningly as the weight was lifted. Desperation was now his fuel. He came down on Jennyl shattering her blade, and kicking her aside. Ayala was rising, but Revan stopped that, smacking aside her blades. The sound crunch of wood hitting the walls, Ayala was unarmed.

The blade cut through the air, coming straight for the blue Twi'lek's face. She closed her eyes as tight as she could, horrified. A rush of air hit her face instead. The blade wavered slightly above her nose. She slowly opened her eyes, staring into the brown wood.

Silence.

Coughing coming for Jennyl broke the quiet, as she keeled onto her side, gasping for air.

Nothing was heard as Revan towered over his two defeated opponents. Rage left him, as guilt filled in the spot. He turned; Bastila was getting up, staring at him. Thank the force, she was unharmed. His eyes scanned the crowd, as everyone stared at him. He looked for his master, who was nowhere to be found. Master Vandar and Vrook pushed through the crowd, again breaking the calm. Vandar closed his eyes, dropping his head, as Vrook looked right at Revan, stunned to find out that the young pupil had actually been more powerful than he, them, combined.

Revan's blade dropped to the ground, with a soft pat.

Revan outstretched a hand, lifting Ayala, still terrified, off the ground effortlessly. He walked over to Jennyl picking her up too. She stood on her two feet, and felt the force, returning everything back to normal. Bastila walked towards Revan, grabbing him close.

Tears ran down her face into his cloak,

"Th- Thank you, Revan."

Revan wrapped his hands around her and looked at the audience, who was still glaring back. Ayala and Jennyl bowed, leaving the ring quickly, ushered off by another Twi'lek nurse. The crowed quietly muttered amongst themselves as Bastila was lifted off the ground and both her and Revan left the ring.

"Control, that one must learn." Vandar stated to Vrook. Both sat alone, in private chambers.

"Vandar, he broke our mediation, I doubt that I could have done that myself, especially during a fight. He broke free!"

"Hm…" the small green Jedi mumbled to himself. "Perhaps, not how, but when is the key."

"What do you mean?"

"It occurred just as young Bastila was being assaulted. Protection then was the key."

The two masters sat silent.

"Protection? That is true, however, the fury he felt, that leads to the dark side. We must not let this develop, this, connection. Such strength and blindness are surely signs of falling."

"Harnessing it, not destroying it is key, Vrook. Council with the young ones, we must." The Jedi rose, and left their confinement.

"Are you alright?" Revan spoke softly.

"Yes,"

"I must leave now, and meditate."

"Yes."

And with that the cloaked figure left, rustling, suddenly stopped as Bastila fell back onto her pillow, trying to piece together what happened.

… Bastila fell back onto her pillow trying to figure out what happened, the message on the datapad had confirmed her wishes. He does, he does love me. She rose now, searching for him, to confront him with the message, that started with her name.

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Just to clear it up, it's not scary, Bastila is fifteen and Revan is 17.

Also, this story in its entirety is dedicated to a very special friend of mine, Jean. My thoughts are with you, and I know you can beat it again.