TW: Mentions of suicide, suicide attempt

The Ebon Hawk had never been so quiet. Neither had my own mind. It was cavernous, dark, echoing. Hours might have passed. An entire day, maybe. I didn't care. We had a few days to spare before we arrived at Yavin. When we arrived…well, Carth didn't really specify whether I could decide to leave or not. Because I was leaving. Going…somewhere far. Where I couldn't hurt anyone.

They didn't really need me, after all.

Juhani came by and took the bowl and cup back to the canteen without a word to me. Then she sat in the hold. Meditating. Why won't she go away? I lifted my head enough so that I could see her. My voice was still hoarse—tired—parched.

"What do you want?"

Juhani opened her eyes. I could see the sadness in them.

"I don't want anything from you. I'm here to protect you." A small smile lifted her cheeks. "And I'm here so that you are not alone."

But I wanted to be alone. And I didn't need to be protected. Not when I didn't deserve it. Juhani was going to be stubborn about it though. And I didn't care about whether she was wasting her time or not. So, I went back to staring at the floor. Once again stuck within my own mind…

"Come on, you can tell me, Bondy."

"Bondy? What is that supposed to mean?"

"You know...a combination of bond and buddy. Bondy. What else are we supposed to call what we are?"

"We have a bond but we aren't buddies."

"Oh, I think you're interested in more than just the 'bond' between us."

My face warmed. No. Stop. I leaned my elbows on my knees, my forehead on my hands. The memories…they needed to shut up. I couldn't stand it. I needed to just forget it. Thirsty. I was thirsty. I forgot my crutch and limped to the canteen—my body seemed to move without prompt. I grabbed one of the bottles from the cabinets and looked at the synthesizer. The voices returned…

"What do you wanna mix with?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing? You sure? Twi'lek liquor isn't going to taste good straight. Believe me—you're not going to like it. Could make a Lekku Twist—that's lime and salt on the rocks...if you like sour…? Or maybe a fruity drink. Women like those."

"I'll just...have it how you have it."

"Pfft, I don't mix."

"You...but you just said that didn't taste good."

"Well, I don't care about making it taste good as long as it works, sunshine."

Shut up.

I limped back. Juhani was giving me a concerned look but it didn't matter. I didn't care. I just needed to forget. I opened the bottle with a pop and started drinking straight out of it.

"Um…" I looked up. Juhani's nervous eyes darted about. "Are you…alright?"

No. I was fantastic. I took another drink. Didn't say anything. If she was going to complain…well, I wasn't going to listen. I needed this. Nothing else was going to help.

"That isn't going to help."

My lips pursed. I took another drink.

"My father…he turned to drink because of his grief. He died because of it…"

Another bitter drink.

"Please…talk to me."

I ignored her still. Said nothing. Only drank.

"Revan."

I slammed the bottle down. Finally, an emotion broke through. Anger.

"Go away, Juhani. I want to be alone."

She shot up from her meditation. There were tears in her eyes.

"I know what you're doing." Her breaths were shaking. "You're pushing us all…pushing us away. You want to be alone but that isn't going to help. You need help."

"I don't deserve help." I sneered. Then, I turned to watch the floor again. "I'm drinking, Juhani. I don't care if you like it. Go away."

The bitterness from the liquor was beginning to numb my tongue. Juhani was still standing there. Still watching me. I didn't care.

That is, until, I saw a hand reaching for the bottle—

A cold sensation brushed the air. I stopped Juhani's hand and froze her in place. She gasped, she obviously hadn't expected me to use the Force to stop her. I took another drink before I looked up. Her yellow eyes looked down at me. Concerned. Not afraid.

I hated it.

"Revan—"

With a strong push, Juhani was flung across the main hold. She collided with the wall and she hissed in pain as she slid back to the floor. I returned to drinking without paying her any mind. Then there was silence. Instead of the numbness from before, I still felt anger in my chest. A cold taint. Strength. The moment I used the Force like that, all of the terrible thoughts went away. Almost as if I was drunk with it. It felt good. Too good.

Juhani finally got onto her feet. Her face no longer had concern. Instead, she appeared…disappointed.

"I…" She sighed. "Of course. Of course I can't help you. How foolish of me. I'm not…like you. I can't save you like you saved me. I wasn't strong enough to save Belaya. I can't save anyone."

Finally, she left

Finally, I was alone.

Hours must have passed. I finished the first bottle a while ago. The thoughts had gone away yet…yet still, there was nothing but an ache to replace it. A void. Canderous walked by—I only glanced at him once before deciding it was a bad idea to look again. Reverence. He revered me. He left and came back with another bottle—this one Tarisian ale.

"To be honest, I'm not surprised." Canderous poured into a glass then took a drink. I didn't say anything in response. But I don't think the Mando cared. "Should have known when you decided to attack that clan on Dantooine. Revan was able to do the impossible. You've done the impossible more than a few times."

I responded by taking a drink. The world was starting to blur. The Force—hard to grip.

"Don't listen to flyboy, alright? There are many, many things that I regret doing during the war. I got my own men killed in battle. We…destroyed many worlds. I abandoned my clan. Sometimes…I wonder what the point of it all was. Onasi pretends like he doesn't have any regrets of his own, yet all soldiers do."

I paused—stopped drinking.

Canderous huffed. "That's all I wanted to say, pipsqueak. I'm sure you have a lot to think about and you probably don't want to hear me yapping, so I won't keep bothering you."

He left, and when he left, I turned. A bottle of Tarsian ale had been abandoned beside me.

"I...have to resist…I have to be strong for both of us."

"You don't have to."

"No, you don't understand. I have to."

"You're not weak for loving me, Bastila. Because I love you."

"Just...just shut up and—"

I pressed my lips to hers. A deep kiss. I closed my eyes as I felt her soft lips on mine. Warmth—so warm. Her arms wrapped around my neck to help her push me deeper into the kiss. I surfaced to breathe but she kissed me again, and again. A tidal wave erupted in the bond. Exploding. It was…I'd never felt anything like it before—

I'd never felt love before.

"Wessy?"

The dream, a warm dream, a warm memory drifted away. It was gone. My eyes cracked open at the false name. Mission stared down at me. Her eyes were red. She smiled once I met her gaze, her voice was broken.

"Morning."

My body shivered as I felt the cold ship air. Everything hurt. I hadn't left since yesterday. A few bottles had been knocked over on the floor. Something…stuck on my face. I'd passed out on the bench. I'd…I didn't remember how much…I'd…I'd slept. I'd slept…I didn't remember. I didn't remember anything about being Revan.

Blackout drunk.

I pushed myself up with two hands then rubbed my forehead as a spike of pain stabbed my skull. No, actually, my whole body was in pain.

A clatter. A bowl filled with an omelet and bacon.

"Time to eat!" She sat beside me—still smiling. How could she still be smiling? "The Sith took a lot of the good stuff…so annoying. But an omelet and nuna bacon should wake you up, right? Oh! And here." She placed a cup of caffa down. "I know you like to put a lot of sugar in so I dumped a whole bunch!"

I blinked, dazed both from the painful hangover and Mission's excitement. I stared down at the food. My mouth scrunched and my stomach turned at the sight. I covered my mouth and…started shaking.

"Wes?" Stop. Mission frowned. Her eyes teared up. "Wessy, what's wrong? Is it the eggs? They probably got burnt. Or, no, it might be the hangover—"

"Shut up!" She flinched when I accidentally flung the caffa mug in my rage. My body clenched as the words spilled out. "Stop calling me that! Stop fucking calling me that, Mission! Stop! I'm not Wes! Stop calling me—!"

"Okay!" Tears fell down her face and her body shook. She could barely speak over her tears. "I'm sorry! I…I'm sorry! I didn't…I didn't mean…I…I'm so used...that I…I'm…"

She shot up and ran away. Leaving the eggs. The bacon. I hurt her. I upset her.

I shoved it all far away so that I couldn't look at it. There was a crash. I'd shoved it too hard and the meal spilled onto the floor. Making even more of a mess. I rubbed my head. The thoughts, the memories, were returning with the pain.

It had to stop.

There was only one way to make it stop.

The engine room.

I didn't bother knocking. The door hissed open. Verena stopped angrily punching her sandbag and sneered when she saw me.

"Revan." She grabbed Yusanis' blade and pointed it at me. "What do you want?"

"I remember." I didn't look away. Needed to look convincing. "I remember killing Yusanis. I accept your challenge."

She blinked twice. Her head tilted as she narrowed her eyes. She paced closer, the blade still outstretched. The cold cortosis blade touched my neck.

"Then what were his last words?"

My face became cold when she asked the question. My body, cold. Eventually, when I didn't answer, couldn't answer, she lowered Yusanis' blade and let out a scoff of disgust.

"You don't remember." She threw the blade to the ground with a clatter. "You aren't Revan. Revan wasn't a coward. You are a coward." Verena walked up to me, her silver eyes bearing onto me. "I'm not going to kill you. Why? Because you should make your death matter."

With those scalding words, she turned and started punching the sandbag again.

I grit my teeth. Make your death matter. Only, I was making it matter. If I was gone, then Revan wouldn't hurt anyone again. I marched out of the engine room. To my next destination.

The cargo hold.

Most of the containers had been ransacked when the Sith took over the ship. All of the supplies that were taken from Czerka were now Sith property. Fortunately, though, not everything was gone. Most of the food seemed to have been untouched.

I limped up to the container and peered in. There were still some bottles of Twi'lek liquor left. It would do. I stood there thinking about where I was going to drink this when I heard a wet slap. I froze. When I heard the slap again, my hands started shaking. A gizka jumped out from underneath one of the carts.

"How did you get in here? It's...hmm, cute? In a weird way."

"I've never heard you call anything cute before."

"And I've never heard you giggle before."

"I didn't—! I didn't giggle."

Her gray eyes sparkled.

"Liar."

The bottle slipped from my hand. It smashed to the ground. The green liquid and foul odor pooled on my bare feet. Gil jumped away in fright then hopped down the hall. I stared down at the mess.

Either no one heard the bottle breaking or no one cared. I grabbed another one and left the broken bottle on the floor. A shard cut my foot as I left. I didn't know where to go. There would be someone somewhere on this ship. I needed to be alone. So, I followed Gil down the halls. Just…wandered…in circles. Never catching up. Never wanting to catch up.

Eventually…my foot throbbed. The cut burned. All of my wounds burned. And I got tired of following him. I chose a wall and slid down it. I opened the bottle with a pop and took a drink. Not a good idea to mix kolto with drinks. It didn't matter. In the corner of my eye, Gil hopped away around the corner. I drank…drank a third of the bottle. Maybe more. I'd have another later.

It didn't matter if Verena wouldn't kill me. There are many ways to do it.

Lightsaber to the head was the quickest way. Mine had been destroyed. That wasn't an option. Another bitter drink. Blaster to the head would work too. Though, I'd have to find a blaster. I had a feeling someone would ask questions if I said I wanted to borrow one.

HK wouldn't ask questions.

I limped into the garage—taking the bottle with me—and fortunately, I was alone. I eyed HK-47. The droid had managed to go unscathed during the fight in the Leviathan.

"Recommendation: Best to smash the desire to breed under heel and take it in hand before it gets worse. I would also recommend brutally decapitating the meatbag you want to have relations with. Replace a carnal pleasure with a…violent one."

"I-I'm talking about love, HK. Not procreation. There is a difference."

"Statement: Not really, Master. My creator would have programmed in a definition if that were true."

HK-47's red eyes blinked on and his arms locked in place.

"Query: What is it that you require, Master?"

That's right. HK-47 was Revan's droid. My droid. How fitting that I'd been annoying myself with it this entire time. The chance of me running into my own droid without knowing about it was…well, the Force must have played a part here. I took a deep breath and sat cross-legged in front of the assassination droid. The vision…no, the memory from when I unlocked HK drifted into my mind. The words that Revan used…

Rakat wal nun.

I couldn't, though. If HK remembered, it would be like Revan remembering. I didn't want to unleash anything…dangerous. Instead, I looked for the sniper rifle. Yet it wasn't there.

"Where's your blaster, HK?"

The droid sighed. "Answer: That annoying orange meatbag came by and took it from me. Said it was a 'liability.'"

This wouldn't do.

"Then your assignment is to go find it and bring it here."

"Err… Confutation: I would do so, Master, only you explicitly told me not to harm the meatbags on this ship. I would have to use violent force in order to acquire a weapon."

Kriffing. I took a drink. My hands were shaking. I decided to stand.

"Then I order you to kill me yourself."

"Confutation: Master…I cannot do so. My programming doesn't allow it."

"Then what good are you?"

HK blinked.

"Master—"

I didn't wait for him to make his stupid "statements." I limped into the halls again. Pacing. Drugs? Too unreliable. Someone would find me. Most of the bottle was gone. I eyed my bloody foot—it was making trails on the metal. That's right. I could go back. Get one of the glass shards and slit my neck. It would be painful but, well, I'd experienced worse. With more alcohol, it would probably not be as painful. I took another drink. Actually, why didn't I do that?

Stupid Wes.

No. Kriff.

Anger heated my chest. Heat in my eyes. I shivered then limped towards the cargo hold. I could go behind one of the screens, and if I'm quiet, I could slit my throat. They wouldn't know that I'd done it for a while.

When I walked back into the hold, I froze. Carth was there with crossed arms. Why was he there? He sighed then reached into the container to grab a bottle. Ah. I see. He flinched when he saw me then narrowed his eyes. He waved at the mess on the floor.

"I'm guessing this is your fault then?"

I felt my face tighten. He needed to leave.

"I'll clean it."

"In your state?" Carth shook his head as he looked me up and down. "Sorry, but I don't trust you to be around anything sharp at the moment."

"I don't need to stab you to kill you, Carth."

His eyes darkened. It should have been fear, but I swear it was a flicker of…concern.

"I didn't…I meant because you're drunk, you—"

Without another word, he put down his bottle. Then he went to one of the lockers along the wall and took out one of the vacuum cleaners. The loud thrum from the vacuum pierced the silence along with the clinking from the glass shards. My chest rose then fell and I looked down at the bottle I was holding. If I broke this one, it would work too.

A second later, Carth was done. He sighed, rubbing his forehead after he put away the machine. Then, he marched up to me with determination.

"Give it to me." He held out his hand. "Give me the bottle." I glared. "You've had enough." He couldn't. He couldn't take it. I was so close. "You…" Carth's face tightened. "Give it to me."

Before I could run, before I could do anything, he yanked it out of my grip. I grabbed him by the jacket. The bottle crashed to the ground. I shook him as I shouted—

"You can't take it! I need it! Stop taking it! I can't—just let me have this one choice! Just let me kriffing die!"

Fear. He was afraid. I held him against the wall.

"I can't, you…" He blinked, his face slackened, his words staggered. "You aren't…you aren't thinking. You're drunk. Please, you need to calm—"

I pushed him away and stumbled back. My hand waved, blurred, wildly.

"Go ahead! Shoot me! Come on! I'm letting you kill me! Isn't that what you want? Don't you want to kill me like you wanted to kill Saul?" His face became stone. When I noticed he hadn't started shouting at me, I narrowed my eyes. I forced a smile onto my face. "When I remember, I won't hesitate, you know. I will make you suffer for not killing me. I'll break all of your bones with a single thought, gouge out your eyes, cut off limbs, burn you to death. Torture you. Just like your son. Dustil. Or maybe you'll want to die like your wife. How did your wife die, Carth? I'll make you die the same way—"

I sensed the blow, yet I didn't dodge. The force pounded into my cheek and the pain of that combined with my headache made me stagger away. The world rocked…back and forth…blurring…I grabbed my mouth as I felt something rise in my stomach. I couldn't stop it. I crashed on one of the containers and threw up the alcohol I drank onto the floor. My face felt hot—embarrassment. You look like a fool. I coughed after I finished and the piercing pain from the punch and from the headache interrupted the embarrassment.

The pain was too much. I slid to the floor, not even caring that I was sitting on it, and hid my face in my arms and knees. I didn't dare look up at Carth. I couldn't. Feel nothing. If I looked at his anger I would fall apart. I couldn't fall apart. Go away. I couldn't stop shivering though. Stop. My breathing hadn't calmed. Nothing was calm. The ringing came back.

It was all a lie.

Eventually…I heard it. Boots. The sound of boots running away. My breathing finally relaxed. And I felt nothing again. Eventually, I chanced to look up.

He was gone.

"There you are, kid."

I didn't even have enough energy to be angry that Jolee interrupted me. Once my stomach stopped twisting, I'd remained in the cargo hold. Staring at the broken glass. I'd managed…to grab one. All I had to do was slash. End it. Save them all. Mission would cry, of course, but she would understand. And everyone…well, they could try to find the Star Map themselves. They didn't really need my help, did they? If Revan came back, it would be even worse.

And I was going to do it. Was. I'd come to the decision to do it quickly. But that's when the old man appeared.

Jolee crouched in front of me and tried to look me in the eyes. I stared back down at my crossed legs. At my right hand where I held the glass shard. I turned it so he wouldn't see.

"Mission told me what happened." I clenched my jaw. "She made a mistake. She said you shouted at her because of it. She said it was 'her fault.'"

I finally looked at the old man. Guilt. It wasn't her fault. She was used to calling me Wes. Wessy. It…I'd called myself Wes on accident. I shouldn't have shouted at her. I shouldn't—

"I'm sorry, I—"

"Kid, it's okay." Jolee sat cross-legged in front of me against the opposite wall. "It's okay if you want to shout. It's okay if you're angry. People get angry when they feel like they can't express themselves. When they feel powerless. Helpless. Hurt. Only you are letting your emotions consume you. Boil within you. It isn't good to keep your grief buried. Suppressed." He waited, waited for me to speak, yet when I didn't, he sighed. "Are you ready to talk now?"

My hand clenched on the glass. There was a faint drip. He thought I was grieving? No. I was preparing. Preparing to save the galaxy.

Jolee waited for me to say something. To look at him. When I didn't, he continued. "Well, if you won't talk, I will."

The drips were the only sound for a while.

"My wife…Nayama…she was the Ukatis enforcer who shot me out of the sky, if you remember." He waited as if I would confirm yet when I said nothing, he snorted. "Right, of course you don't remember. I was a smuggler, way way back. I got shot down once over Ukatis. That story." He waited, again, for me to say something. I said nothing. "Upon meeting her, I knew right away that she was strong in the Force. That's why she was able to shoot me down. Nayama was a marvel of a woman. Fiery, determined, smart...she dragged me to the capital and foiled three of my attempts to escape prison. Oh, and that body…"

I looked up at him with narrowed eyes.

He smiled. "Needless to say after a few failed dates I eventually won her over. That was after I kidnapped her upon being broken out of the Ukatis prison, mind you. But uh, that's another story entirely. At any rate, I wanted to train her in the Jedi way. The Council refused my request, naturally. I was still a Padawan at the time. I was an experienced Padawan, surely...but not yet ready to be a full Jedi and certainly not ready to train another. Especially not one so old as my wife.

"I was pissed. I felt insulted that the Council denied my request. That's the problem with self-righteous folk is they think they're more right than everyone else. I believed in her and trained her in secret anyway. I ignored her willful nature...I loved her too much to see fault in her. And she loved me, too. I know she did. At the time, our love was a shared bliss...better than anything I had known before or since."

Even though his words were hopeful, his tone was hopeless. "But then…Nayama was inspired by Exar's promises of a new Golden Age. She wanted to join him. She came to me, pleading with me to throw aside what she called the decrepit trappings of the Jedi...to join her in Exar's war.

"I pleaded with her to reconsider, to think about all that she was throwing away...to think about what she would become." He shook his head. "She would have none of it. Finally, in frustration, she attacked me. She drew her lightsaber and attempted to strike me down. It was a scene being repeated everywhere throughout the galaxy. Pupil against master. In my case...it was a long and terrible battle, but I defeated her."

My heart dropped in my chest.

"You…killed her?"

"No. I had her at my mercy, disarmed and defenseless. She looked up at me and she knew…she knew I couldn't do it."

Kill me. Malak begged. Please.

A shiver rippled down my spine.

Jolee continued. "But I should have killed her. Sometimes I convince myself otherwise...but it's no use. She had fallen to the dark side when she raised her saber against me." The Jedi should have killed me. "And I let her go. To my shame, she went on to kill many Jedi during the war until she, herself, was slain in the final battle. I grieved for her death, inevitable as it was, even as the Jedi Council put me on trial for my actions once the war was over.

"I had trained Nayama against their wishes. I had failed to kill her when I had the chance, and she went on to kill others. Not to mention that I had remained a Padawan throughout the war. A formality, perhaps, but with the trial, it had to be decided if I was worthy to become a Jedi at all. It was a travesty, of course. I told you that even the Jedi were capable of great injustices, didn't I?"

"So that's why you're not a Jedi," I said. "They found you guilty."

"Oh, no, they found me innocent."

"Innocent?"

"I know. I...deserved every punishment and more. They let me go anyway. Mitigating circumstances, they said. I deserved compassion, they said. They said I had learned wisdom the hard way. For all I had done during the war, they wished to raise me to full Jedi status at long last. That...that was when the Jedi left me. That was when they failed me." He paused. "That's how the Jedi failed you."

I pursed my lips. Yet I didn't say anything.

"They may have been able to forgive me. Yet I...could never forgive myself. Just like you will never be able to forgive yourself. They damned you to live a life in limbo. In guilty torment. That isn't compassion. It's cruel. Your heart was broken. You loved her but her love hurt you. She spared you to live in that life of torment. And now you feel like you can't trust or love anyone even when they say they're on your side. Even when they forgive you. Because compassion and forgiveness and love has only been used to hurt you." His eyes had watered. So much a tear fell down his face. "You…want to go far away, to a place that doesn't hold any memories at all. And there you'll be happy just to forget and be forgotten."

My eyes flickered. Felt hot. It would be nice. It would be nice if…I forgot. Was forgotten.

Died.

I took a shaky breath. My lip shivered.

"She shouldn't have saved me. I was a Sith Lord. She shouldn't have loved me."

"It doesn't matter." He tilted his head. "You loved her. She loved you. Love is strange like that sometimes."

"How could you…how could you still think that love is worth it? After what you just said. She didn't love Revan. She loved Wes. She loved a lie."

"That may be true…" He sighed. "Yet maybe…not. You still think you're Wes, don't you? There is still a part of you that desires to be Wes. It was a better life. A better reality. A good dream. Because, unlike Revan, Wes loved. You fear the day you become Revan again."

"…"

"You fear losing this love within you so much, that you would rather die before you lose it." Jolee frowned. "Isn't that right?"

My grip on the glass felt slippery. "Why shouldn't I be afraid? Why aren't you afraid? Revan didn't love anything. He was a Sith. He killed…so many. You should fear his return. Should…I should kill him before he hurts anyone else."

Jolee shrugged. "I'd rather have you around with the slight danger that the Dark Lord could someday, maybe, possibly return. That's why most of us are standing by you. It's a risk that's worth it."

Something wet dripped from my eye.

"But I…I'm not Wes, I'm—"

"Kid—stop. It's not working. No matter how much you try, you can't convince yourself that because it's not true. Wes is Revan. And there is no reason for you to be afraid because you won't lose it. I know for a fact that Revan can love. We may have been damned to live in guilty torment, but...it doesn't have to be that way. There are people who want to help you—truly help you." Another tear ran down his face as he held out his hand. "So please, for your sake and for all of our sakes, give me the glass before you cut your hand to shreds."

My lip quaked and my body shivered and I couldn't stop it. The tears clouded my eyes until I couldn't see anymore. Ran down my face till it felt numb. Jolee sat by my side. He lifted my hand—my palm stung from the glass cutting my skin. Jolee peeled it away. I flinched as I felt the pain. He tossed it then turned my hand to inspect my palm. A deep gash and dark blood dripped.

He sighed. "Come on—let's get this fixed up before it gets worse."

No. No. It didn't matter if they wanted to help Revan. Revan would kill them. Revan was merciless. Emotionless. I saw it. I didn't want them to die. If I died, it would be worth the sacrifice. Worth it to kill Darth Revan. Yet I couldn't control myself anymore. I couldn't do anything. Couldn't stop the tears from falling. The gasps. The crying. Couldn't stop my emotions.

Weak.

You're weak. Pathetic. You can't stop it. Can't stop crying like a child. You wanted to kriffing kill yourself because you are a scared child. You wanted to kill yourself because if you didn't then you would fall to the dark side. You fear the dark side. Pathetic.

So pathetic I couldn't even stand without Jolee helping me onto my feet. He led me towards the med bay with two hands on my shaking shoulders. He helped me sit on the bed and threw a blanket around my shoulders. Then, he wrapped a kolto bandage around my bleeding, dripping hand, then wrapped one around my foot. The tears stopped as he wrapped my wounds. The old man gave me a look of concern.

"I'll go get you some water."

He left me there and came back in a blink. When he passed me the water, I took it in my left hand and drank slowly. The bitterness went away along with the faint taste of salt. All that remained, once again, was that emptiness. When I finished drinking, Jolee passed me a painkiller that I took without asking.

He patted my shoulder. "Have a lie-down, alright? Rest off your wounds—get the alcohol out of your system. You'll feel better, kid. I'll come by in a few hours to check up on you."

A child. He was treating me like a sick child. Yet it felt...strangely nice. And I was too tired to protest. Before he left, I finally spoke.

"But what if I remember?"

He stopped walking out of the med bay. His shoulders fell.

"If you remember…it doesn't matter. We'll be there to help you anyway, Revan."

He walked out. The lights dimmed. I sighed as I felt the painkiller starting to work and lay down on the bed. Watched the rocks glitter in the faint light. If they truly wanted to "help" me, then I needed to protect them in the event that Revan does come back.

I needed to become stronger or else this fear would consume me.

Dark ruins. A mist swirled about the dark stones. Past the temple, hundreds of craters flattened what had once been a beautiful jungle. I moved through the plains, the warzone created a generation ago. A cold, piercing power hummed from the rubble. I wanted it. Needed it.

Revan.

A voice—old. Powerful. A ghost from decades ago. I walked up the vine-laden stairs—drawn to the power.

At the top of the hill, within the ruins, she was there. Bastila. She had been tied to a rock, chained. Her face was bruised. Her clothes ripped. When she saw me, instead of smiling, her face bent with fear. Behind her, Darth Malak chuckled.

"You did this to him." He paced around and walked up to me. I wanted to kill him. Yet I couldn't move. Couldn't do anything. I was frozen. It was a dream. This wasn't real. I heard Bastila gasp. Malak then grabbed my arm and placed a piece of glass in my hand. "You made Revan suffer, Bastila."

I could sense…in a distant, numb sensation, pain.

"He wanted to kill himself because of you."

"I…" Her voice was quiet. "No—this is a trick."

"He killed himself."

"No!"

My arm moved and I slashed my throat. Choking. Dying. I fell to my knees as the blood dripped and pooled under me. Bastila was crying. Shouting.

"This is your fault, Bastila. You didn't save him. You and the Jedi only made him suffer."

Pain. I tried to hold in the blood, but it was no use. I thought she would give in after that, but—

"No, he's alive! I know it!"

Malak's metal jaw hissed. "Join me. Join the Sith. Redeem yourself, Bastila. Get vengeance upon the Jedi who made Revan suffer."

"Never!"

Everything blurred into nothing after that. And when I awoke, I was within a mist. A cold touched my mind. Brushed over my head. Caressed me.

"The Jedi made her suffer. Just like they made you suffer."

I pushed onto my feet. I was in the ruins still, yet Malak and Bastila were gone. Replacing them was a shadow, a ghost. It was formless yet I could sense a cold from it. I walked up to it. This was what I wanted.

The shadow spoke. "All you wanted to do was protect the galaxy from the Mandalorians. What did you get in return? Pain. Scorn. But you knew that it would happen. You knew when you chose to join the war that you couldn't go back. You can't go back now." The shadow shifted, formed into a dark cloak. "Only the dark side can save them. Only the dark side can save you." Revan's mask eventually molded from the shadows. "Only Revan can save her."

There was a knock. A soft tapping. My eyes peeled open and the dream that should have been terrifying drifted away. When I hadn't reacted quickly enough to the knock, the med bay door hissed open.

Mission poked her head in, her lekku waving as she carefully stepped forward. I sat up, throwing my legs over the side of the bed. I frowned as she acted so...nervous. In her hands was another steaming bowl. Her eyes didn't meet mine.

"Um...I asked if I could..." A pause. "I can leave—"

"Mission." She flinched at the sound of my voice. I sighed. "It's alright. I'm sorry. I—"

"No! You've got nothing to be sorry about. You...you didn't ask for this." Her shoulders lifted a fraction and she entered the med bay—turning on the lights. She sat next to me, the bowl was still in her hands. "Besides, I know you. You're not Revan anymore. Whatever you used to be, you're one of us now."

I sighed—then when she didn't offer the food, I took the bowl from her. I didn't want to argue with Mission. I didn't want to upset her. If this is how she wanted to process this...I'd only make things worse. In time, maybe she'll understand. I picked up the fork and stared down at the omelet. My mother...made something similar for me when I was younger. Or, at least, the mother in these fake memories did. I didn't even know my real mother. My actual mother. Did Revan have a family? Or had he been raised from birth as a Jedi? Would that mean...the Jedi had been my true family?

My mouth grew bitter at the thought. Either at the thought of family or...the thought of the Jedi being that family. So, I interrupted this bitterness and broke apart some of the egg. I ate—silently. I didn't want to make her upset again. When I glanced to the side, Mission was softly smiling. I finished chewing.

"It's good."

Mission smiled wider. "Good! Um..." She cleared her throat. "I was actually kinda worried that I didn't cook it all the way...though eating eggs raw isn't a bad thing. Just...not really good in an omelet, heh."

"I couldn't make it better." I met her blue eyes. "Thank you, Mission."

She blinked once. Her smile almost broke her face.

"No problem!" Mission jumped to her feet. "Eat and rest, okay? Let me know if you want something else too! I'll be the Ebon Hawk's number one master chef, heh, heh."

She rushed out of the med bay. I hadn't noticed but...a smile had drifted onto my face. It faded when she left.

After eating and resting for a few hours, I eventually went insane sitting in the cramped med bay. So, I grabbed one of the spare crutches and limped out into the main hold. Instead of sitting on the bench, I sat in the middle of the floor. Crossed my legs. For the first time in a long time...I meditated.

More time passed. Eventually, I sensed someone standing close to me. I opened my eyes and looked up. Carth. There wasn't any anger or fear in those eyes like I expected after our last confrontation. He didn't express anything. It was as if he was staring down at Jolee's rock collection.

"We'll be exiting hyperspace in an hour…" He glanced to the side. "I'd give you a weapon, but—"

"You don't trust me." I crossed my arms. "It's fine. I can make do without one."

He sighed then...walked over to the bench and sat. His dark eyes misted.

"Jolee and I…we had a talk. He told me you..." He glanced at my injured hand then shook his head. "If you were someone else, a soldier, a different soldier, I wouldn't have…"

"Wouldn't have…?"

"Left you." The room seemed to freeze. The only sound was the Ebon Hawk's generators. Eventually, Carth continued. "If you weren't Revan, I would have tried to talk you out of it. I wanted to kill myself back then when the Sith destroyed Telos. I lost everything. If I didn't have Saul, I would have gone through with it. Which is why I can't help or forgive you."

"I don't need your help."

He frowned. "Jolee tried to tell me that if I didn't help you, then you'd fall to the dark side again. But I can't help you, really. None of us have that power. Only you can save yourself. And, even then, nothing you do will truly redeem what you did." He crossed his arms. He shivered. "The Jedi…they should have killed you. I don't think anyone deserves to live a lie like that. But it's…I can't feel sorry for you when the Sith took everything away from me."

I stood, wincing as I felt the pain in my leg. I grabbed the spare crutch.

"I don't want you to feel sorry for me, Carth."

"Yeah, I know." His eyes searched mine. "I don't like it—if I had a choice, I wouldn't go through with this. Working with the man who destroyed everything I loved. But you have a choice, Revan. You have all of the power here. You can kill yourself. Make this entire mission pointless. Or you can become the dark lord once more. Or...you can fix the mess you started. Save Bastila. Right your wrongs."

Right my wrongs?

I sighed. "There are only so many wrongs a person can make before it becomes impossible to make it right."

"Which is why you have your work cut out for you." The pilot narrowed his eyes at me then sighed too. "It's…going to be hard to get used to it. You being Revan."

"How do you think I feel about it?"

He smiled, yet he caught himself with a huff.

"This doesn't mean that I'm not going to be watching you closely. If there is a mere hint that Revan has returned…then I'm warning the Republic."

And, with that proclamation, he marched back to the cockpit.

The Yavin system appeared in the cockpit window. The red gas giant took up most of the view—the metal station orbiting Yavin 4 was a mere speck in the distance. Jolee and Juhani had joined us in the cockpit and Canderous took over as the copilot. Based on the records, the metal station had been built by the Republic. Carth mentioned that the place had a similar signal to the navy. Yet, it was an old station. He guessed maybe sixty to fifty years old.

Jolee hummed at my side. "It's a remnant from Exar Kun's war…perhaps made during Ulic Qel-Droma's final attack on the Sith Lord on Yavin 4."

"It's obviously not being used by the Republic anymore," Carth said.

"Obviously."

With that, the pilot pressed a button to speak over the comms.

"Yavin Station—this is the Ebon Hawk. Requesting to dock."

The voice of a Rodian muttered a response.

"The Ebon Hawk? State your business."

"We…" He paused. Then, his voice took on a darker tone. "What do you mean 'state your business?' We're the Exchange. We have a…a…shipment…to deliver."

So convincing.

"Shipment?" The Rodian didn't respond for a moment. "Finally. I thought Davik went back on our agreement. I have opened up docking bay delta. Please land there." There was a click. Then another click. "Oh, whoops, uh…Suvam Tan out!"

This is how the Exchange operated nowadays? I remembered them being way more careful and suspicious of me when I—

No. That was Wes.

Carth piloted the Ebon Hawk towards the old station. During our approach, Juhani muttered under her breath.

"So, that means…Exar Kun died…there? On Yavin? Really?"

Jolee snorted. "Oh, don't tell me you believe in those tales about Exar Kun returning from the dead or Exar Kun haunting the galaxy, blah, blah, blah. If that were true, we'd have bigger problems. No, that idiot went up in a ball of fire in his attempt to become immortal. A Sith staple."

Canderous snorted. "That's one way to put it."

"Ah, were you old enough to be there, Mandalorian?" Jolee asked.

"No, I was a young boy. Father was in the war though—died in a glorious fight alongside Mandalore the Indomitable."

Juhani huffed. "Glorious."

"Yes, Cathar. Glorious."

The dock door stuttered open and the lights flickered on—whoever owned this rust bucket had neglected to even bother with replacing the bulbs or fix the generators. We landed and Carth switched off the engine with a flick. He stood and eyed all of us.

"Come on. I have a feeling we're going to run into trouble."

We walked into the main hold—everyone except for the droids were waiting for us. Mission avoided looking at Carth as she stood and followed us. She was obviously still mad at him. Gil hopped quietly after her. Verena had also finally left her cave. She stared lightsabers at me. I doubt she'd ever forgive me. Not that I deserved her forgiveness. Before the ramp dropped, Carth addressed all of us.

"Whoever this Suvam is, we'll pay him enough credits to let us stay docked until we figure out how we're approaching Korriban. Alright?"

Everyone nodded—yet they appeared unsure. They looked at me for some reason. I said nothing.

Revan.

The ramp dropped as I heard that voice…call out to me. A dark, powerful voice. We filed out yet I didn't follow. The docking bay was small—airlock doors lined the halls leading to the main station. My mind worked fast. There was a panel by the door. A manual override for the airlocks. I eyed the threshold as everyone stepped through. Waiting.

Carth stopped. He turned to glare at me.

"Why are you hanging back there?"

I didn't let his suspicion spread to the others. With a wave of the Force, I pushed Carth past the threshold then focused on the panel. The green light flashed red and the airlock doors locked shut. As the door was being banged on, I rushed up the ramp again—closing it behind me with the Force. I limped as fast as I could to the cockpit. My body slammed into the pilot's chair and…no. I stared blankly at the controls. Surely, I knew how to fly. I was the kriffing captain—

No, Wes was a captain.

I tried to remember what switches Carth pulled to park the Ebon Hawk. I managed to start the engine and bring up the landing gear. Then, there was the next problem. The dock doors. They were closed. I focused on the Force—closed my eyes—and lifted my hand. Power. Power underneath my fingertips. The bay door lifted with a creak and the vast stars appeared in the cockpit window. Quickly, I pushed on the thrusters and the Ebon Hawk shot out of the bay into space.

My breath hitched as I navigated the ship through the system. The Ebon Hawk shot towards the green moon. Piloting a ship was more complicated than a speeder or swoop bike. As I got closer, I searched for a way to slow down before I crashed. I stared out the cockpit window as Yavin 4 grew closer and closer. I didn't know how to slow down. T3 rolled into the cockpit—beeping exclamations. I ignored the droid and released my hands on the controls. Sank back. Watched as the moon grew closer…the shields burned red as it entered the atmosphere.

I closed my eyes. And waited for the end.

My body was flung when the Ebon Hawk jolted—

I was alive. Somehow.

I groaned and the force on my head fled. My eyes blurred as a headache overtook my senses. Trees. Foliage. It filled the cockpit window. I was on the floor—the force of whatever happened had caused me to be flung across the room. T3 beeped rapidly above me. I pushed myself onto my feet and waved my hand.

"I'm fine, I'm fine." I touched my forehead and hissed. Blood. A cut. I eyed T3. "What happened?"

He fritzed. T3 took over the ship and managed to slow our descent enough so that we could land. He couldn't avoid colliding with the forest though.

Or—the kriffing droid saved me.

The Force really doesn't want me to die, huh?

I managed to stumble onto my feet even though everything…everything was pain. They were probably wondering why I'd jumped ship like that. I'd...comm them or figure out a way to fly back. I didn't want to make them worried. For now, I needed to know why I wanted to come down here. I limped out of the cockpit into the garage. With a slam on the button, I opened the ramp and breathed in the humid air below.

Trees. Trees everywhere. Nature. Calm. The sounds and sensations of unknown creatures and birds created an orchestra of chaos around me. T3 had piloted the Hawk close to a gentle river.

The sun was setting. I stared out into the forest for a long time. Too long.

What was I going to do? Why did I come here? It was a call from the Force. The dark side? Or...something worse? I frowned, then walked back into the Ebon Hawk, into the garage. May as well try to figure out what that something was before I headed back. HK-47 had somehow remained upright after the crash. I looked him up and down…then came to a decision. I stepped up to the droid.

"Rakat wal nun."

The droid's red lights blinked once…twice. Then, he looked down at me. His voice grew dark.

"Statement: System memory and assassination protocols restored. I am ready to serve, Master."

I pursed my lips.

"So, I'm your Master then. Your original Master."

"Answer: Yes, of course. It is a distinct pleasure to see you again, Master."

"Pleasure? I told you, I'm not your—" I sighed. "Nevermind."

"Query: Do you have another assignment for me, Master? A target? Unfortunately, I was unable to eliminate 'Veela Ordo' due to some…unforeseen complications."

"Veela?"

Wasn't that Canderous' wife?

HK's head twisted. "…yes?"

"Why did Revan…why did I want to kill her?"

"Answer: You never tell me why, Master. You sent me on the mission…remember? But I failed. I was captured and claimed as 'booty' during the attempt."

"Captured?" I blinked. "That…that's possible with you?"

HK let out a long sigh. "Statement: Yes, I know, Master. It is quite an embarrassing tale. I'd rather not recount it."

My eyes glazed as I heard HK's sardonic tones.

"What do you know about the Star Forge?"

"Answer: Master, I have no idea what you're talking about."

Of course. Revan—I—wouldn't have been stupid enough to leave important information on a droid. That isn't what I wanted to wake HK up for anyway. I groaned.

"Just…go find a blaster, HK. We're leaving."

"Query: And what is our current task, Master? Are we breaking into another Republic compound? Or do you have a mission? Statement: I…hope it isn't another Mandalorian, Master. I do love it when you let me kill a Jedi."

I stared at the droid blankly.

"No—I…I don't…know. Actually."

HK blinked. "Observation: Master, based on my memory banks, I noticed that it took you almost three weeks to finally revert me back. That and you have been acting highly out of character during those three weeks. Query: Was this an act to deceive the meatbags? Honestly, I did not know you that good of an actor."

"I'm not acting you stupid droid!" I hissed. "I really don't know."

"Statement: You always know, Master. You always know what task I need to perform. This…uncertainty is making my metal joints quake with anxiety."

"HK, please, your task is to just…find something. Anything. A weapon. I'll…figure it out."

With a final blink, the droid acknowledged my order without any more complaints. As he searched for a weapon, I went to the dorms—to my untouched bunk—to try to find a knife or blaster or something. Maybe I forgot I had one. I opened the storage locker above the bunk and grabbed a soft object.

My red jacket.

I held it up with a frown—searched the stitches, pockets, anything. Nothing came back to me. No memories. This hadn't belonged to Revan. Not really. The Jedi had given it to me to…to strengthen the lie. Yet what had been the point? Why had they given me something like this?

I almost gave up on trying to figure out the purpose of it, yet I closed my eyes—and remembered.

"Here you go."

Wes looked at his mentor, Thea Starr, with narrowed eyes as she held up a red jacket.

"What's that?"

"For you." She threw it over his head, covering his face. "All smugglers need a trademark. I used to wear this all the time but…not my style anymore."

Wes shook his head then took it off.

"A trademark?"

"The only way you gain infamy is by being recognizable. Iconic. You wear that jacket, Wes, and they won't see Wes the man. They'll see Wes the smuggler." He eyed the red jacket then, with a sigh, he slid his arms through the holes and shook it straight. "Yeah!" Thea patted his back with a smirk. "That's right! It suits you!"

"Does it?"

"Uh, huh." She took a long smoke from her cigar then waved it about. She was obviously drunk. "Wes the smuggler. Bonafide marvel. That's right."

Wes smiled. Through the cloud of cigar smoke, the rest of the crew looked at them like they'd grown two heads. Their faces. They…he didn't recognize their faces. As he stared at them…the smoke turned into a thick fog. The blurred faces sharpened as the ship around them turned into an open ocean. Jedi watched on. His mentor…he turned and realized that she was gone. He was alone. And in his hands…

Was a mask.

"I don't know your name—but I take up your cause. I will not remove your mask until there is justice. Until the Mandalorians have been defeated once and for all."

Wes placed the mask over his face.

"So swears Revan!"

I grimaced.

I ran as fast as my injured legs could go and grabbed an igniter as I left the ship out into the forest. I threw the jacket next to the rocks and aimed the nozzle at it. Seconds later, the jacket went up in flames.

As the smoke drifted from the ashes of Wes' jacket, I watched the sunset and the stars glittered in the sky through the canopy of trees.

End of Episode II: A Star Path

With that, Act II is done! I really wanted to leave off on a semi-happy(?) note. This was a heavy chapter to write, admittedly.

I have a vague idea of how the next act will go, but I may take some time to reset my brain and to make some plans for Yavin and Korriban. I really want to expand on how much Revan actually remembers (you've probably noticed, but he's remembering way more than he's supposed to...). He won't remember too much as to make sure KOTOR 2 still happens...but he'll remember some things.

I also have another one-shot planned that may be released before the next chapter/act! Depends if I get in the mood to finish it XD!