Thank you for all the follows and favorites. Thanks to Ssj Shadow and general-joseph-dickson for their continued reviews.
Reply to guest reviews are, as always, at the bottom of the chapter.
Revan settled himself in a quiet section of the Sojourn. He took a deep breath as he closed his eyes. Revan focused on centering himself in the Force, letting it flow through and around him. He stretched out his awareness, reaching out from the ship towards all reaches of the galaxy.
There were two Jedi on Telos. Revan sensed one at the docking area and another working close to a part of the restoration project. Both felt familiar to him. They weren't who he was looking for right then. Revan moved from Telos, letting the Force take over where his sight and senses traveled.
A child on Dantooine leapt out at him, strong in the Force.
Not what he was looking for.
Revan pushed further.
Force sensitives of varying strength appeared before him through the Force. None of them were trained. None of them were Jedi. Yet, they could become Jedi if trained.
Revan pulled back. He let out a small breath. Five. Only five of them remained. It was just enough to obey the rule which stated one padawan to a master or knight. But it left no room for them to error.
This meant attempting to hide the fact he was Revan from the public.
Revan leaned back, his back pressed against the metal wall until he could feel the cold creep through the thick layers of his robes. The feeling was welcome after the time spent in meditation. The harsh feeling of the cold metal was subtle reminder of the life he had led. It dug into his back as surely as the haul of his flagship had as Malak fired on it. This time the pain was far from physical. It ripped into his mind as a reminder of what he had done, the destruction he had caused and lives he'd taken.
Out of the five who remained, he was the last one any should turn to or follow. Darious then stood as the oldest of their group with Meetra already being a natural leader. He could easily see Darious becoming the new Grand Master and Meetra the Master of the Order. They would have a lot of work ahead of them but could work easily as a team, or so he hoped.
Revan ran his hand through his hair.
Such thoughts weren't going to help anyone. He wasn't the one to make plans. Nor was he one to really walk with the council. He didn't stand in the dark, but neither could he claim to be a full Jedi any longer. He had seen the extremes of both the light and dark side of the Force. He'd known since joining the Jedi Order his own philosophies didn't align with the Orders.
If he had to classify himself, he knew he was a Jedi through and through. It didn't matter Revan thought they could learn from the dark side or not. Not everyone could withstand the pull of the dark side to maintain an inner balance. He knew he still struggled with it.
Revan pulled himself to his feet. He would wait to contract Meetra over the realization there were no other Jedi left. There was still one other task before him.
It didn't take Revan long to figure out where the five padawans had gathered. They were in one of the few common spaces aboard the Sojourn. A few of them were practicing their lightsaber skills when Revan entered the space, mainly Atton and Bao-Dur from what he could see. The two men drove at one another. Sparks flew from their blunted swords. Atton had years of hand to hand combat experience while Bao had the strength and drive. The two were evenly matched.
Visas and Mical were both meditating a little way from the group while Mira seemed to be a little more interested in watching the two men fight.
The group took no notice of Revan's entrance. He moved around the edge of the room, careful not to draw the attention of the two fighters. Atton's skill reflected one of the assassins Revan had trained, just as Meetra had placed into the datapad she'd left Revan over the skills of the group.
Bao-Dur was a soldier, his stance that of a guardian.
Visas looked up from her mediation. Her sightless gaze moved to Revan's position in the room. It was no real shock she was the first to notice him.
Atton stopped mid blow and turned. Boa-Dur didn't take advantage of the opening and rather followed Atton's gaze which was now also locked on Revan.
Revan stepped forward and bowed his head to the group. "Good morning."
The others in the group took notice of him then. Mira turned to him while Mical stopped his mediation and stood.
"Now I have all your attention, I would like to see how far Meetra's gotten in your training." Revan smiled a little his tone light but not teasing. He didn't want to off put this group just yet.
"Why?" Mira asked, her eyes narrowing. "Meetra already knows what we've learned. She said she was going to place us each with a master. Though," – her gaze flickered to Atton and Mical – "her choice is already decided."
"This maybe, but she requested a second assignment of your progress. Given I am a little better versed in the other three knights and master who will be training you, she requested I be the one to make the assessment." Revan crossed the room and lifted one of the practice swords.
He flipped the blade before moving over to the group.
"I would first like to see how all of your lightsaber technique is coming along and move from there.
"Bao-Dur, if you be so kind as to return to the mat?" Revan gestured for the zaabrak to return to the dueling floor.
Bao nodded. He moved to stand opposite from Revan. He went into the familiar stance of makashi, or form two as it was often referred to as.
Revan made the salute which was always given before a duel. Bao copied him.
Their duel began.
While skilled and with a little more focus on the lightsaber form, Bao was still rather easily to deflect. Revan didn't go all out on the zaabrak. Rather he pushed Bao when needed to see the limits of his skill and eased back when he pushed too hard. There was no denying the potential Bao-Dur showed. He could one day become a great guardian.
Revan put each of the padawans through their paces in both physical skill and knowledge of the Force itself. He also probed them with the Force to learn more about them. Atton kept reciting pazack in order to block Revan, and really any other Force user. He also wasn't very trusting.
He compiled mental notes of each padawans' skills, weaknesses, and mentality. All of which would help to decide who their final master would be.
It was around lunch time when Revan dismissed them to get food. He thanked them for their hard work, which earned him an odd look from a few of them who seemed to have caught on Revan hadn't been trying to fight them at his own potential.
Revan left the ship and headed for the diner the others would be at. It wasn't too tricky to find. Well, not after asking the locals where Alan's Diner was located. The diner appeared to be a local favorite as a few voiced complaints over the fact the diner was closed and even told him not to get his hopes up on eating there.
The few guards at the entrance to the diner, nodded to Revan as he approached. They let him through without a word or attempting to stop him. It was more than apparent one of his companions and given them a physical description of Revan. Otherwise they just saw the lightsaber at Revan's belt and assumed he was the third Jedi in the group.
As expected, the senator and Revan's group had separated to eat lunch. He noticed a sandy haired man speaking with another man who stood behind the counter. One he knew from the file was Senator Justin Tarvon. The other, older man behind the counter, he assumed was Justin's father, Alan Tarvon. Two twi'lek women flanked Justin. One was dressed as a politician and the other as one of the senator's personal guard.
"Von!"
Revan's attention was snapped away from the other group to where Mission and leapt up and was now waving him over. Their group had been given two tables. It was easy to see they had dived between the Jedi and the none Jedi in the group as Mission, Zaalbar, and Carth shared a table while Bastila and Meetra were at the other. Revan could just see his son seated by Bastila.
All of the lunch dishes had been cleared. Each of them had a piece of pie.
"Afternoon, Mission," Revan greeted Mission in a light voice as he smiled at her. He settled himself across from Bastila, beside Meetra which made Bastila's eyes narrow. "We could squish Vaner if you would rather," Revan teased her.
"No squish," Vaner piped up. Pie filling was smeared across his face. He'd even managed to get some in his hair. "Daddy," Vaner informed him. "I got pie!"
"I see that." Revan fought against the laughter bubbling up in him. "Did you and the pie have a fight?"
Vaner blinked at him. "What mean?"
Revan chuckled.
"Did you find any others?" Bastila asked before Revan could reply to their son's question.
"No," Revan confessed. "The only ones trained in the Force are here on Telos."
"That's troubling." Meetra took a thoughtful bite of her pie. "Though, I suppose, it does explain why I could only find members of the council and the two of you." She let out a breath. "What about the padawans? Did you assess their skill?"
"I did, but I doubt you will like it." His tone wasn't light as the matter was rather serious.
"It good. Try pie!" Vaner lifted his fork to show Revan the crust and filling dripping off the ends in the oversized bite.
"Thank you, Vaner, but I fear I ate before joining you here."
Vaner stuck out his lower lip. "But I share." His eyes grew wider. "Try, daddy. It bestest pie ever!"
"All right, all right, you got me, I surrender." Revan reached across the table. He set down the fork and cut the massive chunk his son had been trying to give him. He took a small bite. Familiar, almost forgotten flavors washed over his tongue. He couldn't place the flavor. All he knew was it was from far further into his past than anything else he'd known thus far. Perhaps from a time before he had joined the Jedi Order. The flavor made a curious warmth spread through him.
Vaner blinked, his mouth open as he waited on Revan's response.
"It's good," Revan tried to hold back the question in his voice. It was hard to tell if it was good or if it was lost memory making it taste good.
"That sounded more like a question," Carth commented. The admiral's eyes narrowed. "As if you are trying to place something from your past."
Revan gave a soft laugh as he set his son's fork back down. "You should enjoy the rest of it."
"No more for daddy?" Vaner asked.
"No more, thank you, Vaner."
"'Kay." The boy plunked his fork back into the pie and snatched up a large bit, licking the goo which drizzled down the side of his mouth as he went.
Bastila let out a small breath. It was more than clear she wasn't looking forward to trying to get pie filling from their son's hair.
"It seems," – Revan turned his attention from his wife and son, back to the matter at hand – "each of them are focusing more on their chosen profession within the Order." Revan leaned back in the seat, so he could better see both Bastila and Meetra. "This being said, they should be placed with a knight or master who shares the same profession they do.
"I realize it goes against the way it is normally done with the knight or master in question choses their padawan, but there is nothing normal about the situation we're in."
Meetra frowned. "There's a problem with that, there are no consular in the group and Mical is training as one."
"It's a good thing I have the solution." Revan smiled at Meetra. "After returning to the Jedi Order for retraining, I changed over to a consular officially though I had been dabbling more with the idea during the Mandalorian Wars."
"So, basically you could train all but sentinels if need be." Meetra let out a breath and rubbed her eyes. "All right," – she gestured for him to continue – "explain."
"Given the way the Order generally worked, younglings and padawans are trained by the master in charge of the younglings or by their masters, as you both well know. But if a padawan has chosen a different path to follow than their master, then the archives also become a source of information for them."
"As you did." Meetra grinned.
Did he now? "Sure." Revan returned the smile though he wasn't too certain of her words. "The point is, the archives have most likely all been looted, leaving only the barest of information remaining. It wouldn't be enough for one like Bao-Dur to learn the subtleties of the guardian if he had another master outside of yourself, Meetra. Or for Mical to end up with a good enough grasp on the intricacies of the Force. Passing on such knowledge now falls upon those of us who remain after the purge.
"This means Bao-Dur will need you," – he looked at Meetra – "to guide him down the path of a guardian. And I should," – he took a deep breath. He had to admit taking a padawan sounded like a bad idea to him – "take Mical as a padawan."
"But," Meetra started to point out, "Atton isn't very trusting. Wouldn't it make sense if I took him as a padawan given he already trusts me."
"What pad-won?" Vaner chose just then to pipe up.
Revan burst out laughing. He could see his wife and Meetra grinning at Vaner's attempt at saying "padawan."
Revan leaned forward. "I will explain tonight, how about that?"
"But want know now."
"I know you do, but, I promise, I'll answer whatever questions you have tonight."
Vaner pouted.
"We need to return to the talks as it is." Meetra looked at Revan. "How about? Want to take the lead now you're here, Master?"
"Pass. My presence in the talks could cause problems." Revan returned her smile. "Besides, I have complete faith in the two of you."
"What me?"
Revan chuckled. "You as well, Vaner."
Vaner puffed up in his seat.
"Honestly, you can't keep dodging taking an active role in this, Revan."
"Hmm, here I thought mediating and evaluating the padawans was an active role. Now, I really need to rethink what active means," he joked. The same moment his senses shifted to the two men at the counter. Both had stiffened at the sound of his name.
Revan felt movement cascade to him through the Force. He heard the strong tap of a cane against the metal flooring. It was punctuated by the sound of boots.
"Father." Another made to stop the man with the cane.
When Revan looked, it was to see Senator Tarvon had his hand on Alan's shoulder. Rage simmered in the man. His face was flushed red.
This was what Revan had been trying to avoid and the main reason he hadn't wanted to be apart of the talks. There was no telling just who he had harmed especially with his memory still having chunks missing. Then there was no telling the families of those he had harmed.
The diner owner was going to do something rash.
Just as Alan pulled out a blaster, Revan stood. He used his body to block Vaner's sight to the weapon and shield Bastila though he knew she didn't need his protection it was more to shield their son.
"Alan!" Carth leapt to his feet.
"You killed my son!" Alan's eyes were wild with his livid rage which echoed his deep pain.
x – Alan – x
The news had just started to come in, at long last, over those who were missing or killed during the Jedi Civil War. Alan knew most of it from Revan's and Malak's side of the war would be speculated, but this didn't mean he couldn't check for his son's name.
Besides he had a good hour before the Jedi would be meeting with Justin at his diner. Rana had kicked him out, so she could oversee the cleaning and he wouldn't end up nitpicking everything. He couldn't blame her. He would have hovered.
"Here." Darrell passed Alan the datapad. "I'm not sure you'll find Alvar's name on any of the lists. I actually hope you don't." Darrell called Alan's youngest by his name.
"Thank you, Commander." Alan took the datapad with shaking hands. He took a deep breath, feeling his lungs expand even as his heart raced. He licked his lips.
This was the moment he learned Alvar's fate.
Alan started to scroll through the lists. Most of the names he didn't recognize. Not until he got to the bombing of Telos. Many had died that day. A lump started to form in his throat as he looked at the familiar names of old regulars.
They were gone.
Alan took another deep breath and pushed on through the war.
So far, so good. Alvar's name was nowhere to be seen on the list.
Granted, Alan had no idea what had become of Alvar. The last time he had contact with his youngest had been during the start of the Jedi movement into the Mandalorian Wars. Alvar had sent a message with some credits, what little he could spare given the Jedi Crusader's movement needed as much as it could. The credits had been to help keep Alan's diner afloat through the war. It hadn't been much, but generous. He had learned his son was part of the Jedi Crusader's group and had been proud of him. Alvar had always had a strong sense of right and wrong. Alvar had believed, long before he had become a Jedi, the Jedi should protect and survive the Republic.
It had come as a relief to Alan his son had sided with Revan back then. Later that relief had turned to horror as he had learned what had become of Revan's group. He had reached out several times to Alvar, trying to see if his precious child had turned to the Dark side of the Force.
Alan came to a battle which had marked part of the turning point in the war. He slowed the list here as the battle saw more unknowns than deaths. His eyes widened. It was the battle which had seen the capture of Darth Revan. The turning point in the war for both the Sith and the Republic.
Most of the names were listed as "Unknown, presumed dead," on the empire's side of the war. So many ships had been destroyed during the battle it had been hard to see who had made it to escape pods and even harder to see if they had survived as prisoners to the Sith.
Alan froze.
There, listed under Revan's flagship, was the one name he had hoped to not see.
"Alvar Tarvon died in action aboard the Revenge. Sighted by the Jedi Padawan Bastila Shan, killed in the initial attack from Malak's flagship."
It was a far more detailed response than many of the others. It was also one of three confirmed dead to have a living person having witnessed it. The two other names he barely registered.
Worse still there was no telling what side of the war Alvar had been on. No matter which side it was, Revan was the reason his son was dead.
Alan lowered the datapad. "Thank you, Commander Varnon." Alan set down the datapad.
It felt as if a weight settled on Alan's shoulders as he limped towards the exit.
"Alan?"
"I'll be fine," Alan managed to choke out. He doubted the words even as he uttered them. A galaxy without his sweet, inquisitive son felt empty.
Alvar had never once question what happened to his and Justin's mother. He'd been too young to even remember fleeing to Telos from the outer rim. With what little credits Alan, he had bought a small, run down building and started to set up a diner there. It had taken hard work on both his and his two sons parts. But they had managed to make just enough to scrap by. This was even after Alan had learned of a small group of children unable to be placed into a orphanages after the Great Sith War.
There were too many children left without parents after the war. Alan had tried to help as many as could. Among those children were his two then future daughters in the twi'lek twins Meca and Reca. Sasha, his oldest son's future wife, had been the leader of the small group. And even Zeel had been among them. It was the twins and Sasha who had given Alvar the nickname Little Runner for his speed at gather the food Alan gave them and his inquisitive nature. He always had a question ready and asked another before Sasha or of the others had been able to answer the first.
When Alvar had been barely two, he had started to learn to read. Alan hadn't noticed until his son had pointed to a word on a datapad and asked, "Daddy, what this mean?" Alan had explained the meaning. Then asked what Alvar was doing with one of his datapads. Alvar had puffed up and said, "Reading. Brother show me few words. I learn more on own."
It hadn't been long after this Alan had started to teach his youngest not only to read harder material but also how to cook.
To cook.
Alan closed his eyes.
Back then Alan had believed Alvar too young to be given his first lessons, but Alvar had wanted to help so much Alan had caved. Alvar had picked up the tasks at paces Alan had never believed possible. The next two years the two of them had perfected Alvar's favorite food to make, and eat, pie. It was Alvar who had made the most popular dish on Alan's menu and it was for this reason the pie had been named "Little Runner's pie." It was true Alan had helped Alvar, but most of it had been Alvar's ideas.
It hadn't been long after this, the Jedi had found Alvar. Alvar had wanted it so Alan would be all right if he left. Alan still remember his four-year-old son standing before Jedi Master Vandar Tokare, his shoulders squared and asking if the Jedi could help Alan and Justin and the rest of his "family" who didn't have homes.
Vandar had agreed.
Because of this, Alan had been able to take in Meca and Reca. Sasha had been adopted by a friend of Alan's as had Zeel. It has allowed the four former street kids to remain in contact while keeping Justin's best friends close to him.
Alan hadn't seen anything of Alvar since that day. He had received word from the order Alvar had made padawan and later knight. The last thing he had heard was of Alvar joining the Revanchists from his son himself.
Now – Alan paused, eyes locked unseeing on the ground – now, Alvar was gone thanks to the war Revan had started. He had been gone for over six years. Six years without knowing. Six years of holding to a false hope Alvar was alive.
By the time Alan arrived back at his diner, it was to find it spotless. He managed to hide the pain of lose from Rana behind a smile and contented voice. "You did an excellent job."
"Thank you, Grandpa Alan." Rana straightened. "Do you want me to start making a fresh batch of pie."
"There should be some I baked this morning," Alan informed her. His heart twisted.
"It's just so exciting!" Rana jumped with joy. "There haven't been Jedi in the open for years now. And we get to be their hosts. Oh, I know, because the great hero Onasi is coming, why don't I do all the cooking?" She placed her hands on her hips. "That way you can catch up with the admiral."
"All right," Alan managed a small chuckle. He didn't feel much like talking with anyone, not after learning Alvar's fate. But he needed to keep up appearances this meeting was too important for him to wallow in the lose of his youngest.
"Yes!" Rana jumped into the air. She raced into the kitchen. He could just hear her giving the serving droids orders.
Time passed before the doors into the diner opened. Darrell and Zeel entered first. Zeel stood tall and almost proud. He moved to the table which would be where the others were meeting. Darrell had paused by the door.
A small boy raced through the door, tripped, and leapt right back to his feet. His dark brown eyes sparkled as he gave a small laugh. He darted forward. He skidded to a stop right before Alan. His familiar eyes grew wide as he looked up at Alan.
Alan found himself looking at a ghost. The boy's dark hair was spiked as if he had been running his little hands through it all day. The tasseled mess was too short for the other child this boy looked like, the ghost which now stood before Alan. "Alvar," Alan breathed the name. He couldn't look away from the boy. The haunting image of a child he now knew to be dead.
"Vaner Shan!" The next moment a woman scooped the boy off the ground. "What have your father and I told you about running off."
The moment was broken. Alan took a deep breath. Alvar was dead. No matter how much this boy appeared his living image, his son was dead. And this child was far too young to be Alvar's.
The woman who scooped up the boy was very familiar to Alan. She had to be Bastila Shan, but she was older than the vids he'd seen during the Jedi Civil War. This, it was the Jedi who had reported his son's death.
"Apologize to this man."
"I want to see though, mommy." Vaner's eyes watered with unshed tears.
"This instance, young man."
"Sorry," the boy mumbled through a mouthful of his sleeve.
Alan managed a small smile. "It's quite all right. I'm used to children running up to me."
Another Jedi entered. Her eyes sparkled as she looked at Bastila and she gave a soft laugh.
Justin stood from where he had been waiting on the group to arrive. "I was informed there were three of you," Justin said in way of greeting to them. "Forgive my being blunt, Master Jedi, but where is the third?"
The two woman exchanged glances. The second Jedi was the one who spoke. "He's tracking down other Jedi through the Force," she informed him. "He'll be here around lunch."
"Very well." Justin gave a slight bow of his head. He gestured to the seats across from him in the booth.
Carth had entered and taken a counter seat. A young twi'lek woman was seated close to him with a wookiee, of all things, standing close by.
"Stay here." Bastila set her son down by Carth. "And be good for Carth and Mission."
Carth tasseled the boy's hair. "You in trouble?"
Vaner mumbled a little.
"Don't worry, Van, I'm sure your father will sort things out with Basty when we get back," the twi'lek woman assured him.
"Really, Aunt Mish?"
"Really." She smiled at the boy.
"Alan Tarvon." Carth's voice drew Alan's attention from the boy who was the living ghost of his son. The admiral was grinning at Alan. "I'm glad you survived the bombing. I can't imagine any version of our home without your diner there."
"I only just did." Alan used his cane to tap his leg. Justin had paid a lot so Alan could get a cybernetic limb.
Most of the morning meeting passed with Alan catching up with Carth. He got to know the other two who had arrived with Onasi as Mission Vao and Zaalbar who she called "Big-Z" and Vaner called "Uncle Z." Vaner was a very talkative boy, interjecting into the conversation only for Mission or Carth to tease him about it. The boy also viewed Carth as an uncle.
"I take it none of you are really related to the boy?" Alan asked with a hint of laughter.
"Na, but his father considers all of us family, thus I get be an aunt." Mission grinned. "Isn't than right, Van?"
"Bestest aunt."
Soon it was time for lunch. The group moved to two tables while Justin, Meca, and Reca took Carth's, Mission's, and Vaner's place at the counter.
"How are the talks going?" Alan asked.
Justin grimaced. "It's more than a little clear neither of them are good with politics," he stated. "Meetra has more an understanding of the situation and is attempting to be accommodating, but Bastila only has an understanding of how the political system works."
"That bad?"
"I just hope this third member Meetra keeps referring to is better with politics or it will extremely difficult for the Jedi to gain senate support with just Meetra as a spokes person for the Order."
Meca gave a bow of her head in agreement. "Meetra is trying to understand everything, she wants to learn, but it would be easier to work with a Jedi who has navigated the senate before."
"I rather liked Meetra. She's blunt and to the point," Reca chimed in.
"That's not the point, Reca," her twin said, voice calm. "The leader of the Order needs to have an understanding about how the old relation between us and the Jedi worked. They need to be able to navigate politics, so the Order can get the funding it used to."
The droids took the guests' empty to near empty plates. They were each given a slice of pie.
"What will happen if the third is even worse with politics?" Alan asked.
"I doubt he is," Meca stated.
"Not with how much Meetra was talking him up. He's worked with the senate in the past and knew how to navigate both Jedi and senate politics. At least, according to Meetra he does."
The door into the diner opened. Another Jedi entered, his movements were slow as if he were trying not to draw attention to himself. The man's black hair brushed against his shoulders and was swept back from his sharp features. He looked to be in his early forties. There was a dash of gray in his dark hair.
"Von!" Mission stood and waved the Jedi over.
"Afternoon, Mission," Von greeted the twi'lek woman with a soft smile. He didn't take the seat near to Mission. Rather he joined Meetra and Bastila. He started to tease both Bastila and Vaner.
"He must be the other Jedi Meetra mentioned." Justin frowned.
"If not for his robes, I would never have guessed he was a Jedi," Reca commented. "Is it just me or does he look more like a civilian than the other two do?"
Reca was right. The man wasn't extortionary to say the least. The only matter which might have drawn the eye was he was slightly taller than average. He didn't have an imposing stature at all. Rather, as he sat with the other Jedi, he was almost a shadow compared to the two women.
As Alan listened to the conversation between the Jedi, it was clear Von was the one in charge. He didn't speak with authority, rather the two were deferring to his judgement and assessment of the situation. His light tone was enough to sooth the pain in Alan, mixed with a light joking tone and the teasing, it was clear this man knew how to deflect the situation away from subjects he didn't want to broch.
"He seems to be in charge," Justin commented as he turned his attention to Alan. "Even if he doesn't seem to want to be."
Alan gave a soft laugh. A chill raced through Alan. He couldn't shake the sense there was something familiar about this Jedi Von.
"Is something wrong, father?" Justin's brow furled as he leaned closer to Alan.
"I'll tell you and your sisters after the meeting is concluded."
"It has to do with Alvar, doesn't it?" Meca pressed. "You went to see the reports this morning."
"Is Alvar all right?" Reca demanded.
"Tonight, Reca, I will tell all of you together tonight."
"Father," Reca started to protest, but Justin's hand on her shoulder stopped her.
"How about it?" the sound of Meetra's voice drew Alan's attention back to the Jedi. "Want to take the lead now you're here, Master?" Her eyes were locked on Von.
"Pass. My presence in the talks could cause problems." Von gave her an almost patient smile. "Besides, I have complete faith in the two of you."
"What me?" little Vaner piped up.
Von chuckled. "You as well, Vaner."
Vaner puffed up. Alan felt his heart rip at the sight of the boy. Alvar had done the same, looked the same, when given complements as well.
"Honestly, you can't keep dodging taking an active role in this, Revan."
Alan stiffened. Revan? His gaze locked on the male Jedi, on Revan. On his son's murderer. He could hear the joking note to Revan's voice. Alan's blood ran cold. Alan was barely aware of moving.
"Father," Justin's voice echoed to Alan through the ringing which started to fill Alan's ears.
Murderer, the thought raced through Alan's mind. All he could think of was his son dying alone in space because of this monster.
At some point Alan must have grabbed the blaster he kept for protection. Alan pulled out the blaster.
Revan was on his feet in a blink of the eye. He moved to shield Bastila and the boy. All Alan cared about was his target, was Revan.
"Alan!" Carth's shout rang through the space.
"You killed my son!" Alan almost screamed the words. The blaster was steady in his hand as he pointed it right at Revan's head.
His children stopped trying to stop Alan. "What?" Justin breathed the question.
"Alan, I doubt Revan killed Alvar." Carth had moved from his position. The admiral's hand rested on his blaster. "Lower your weapon. We can figure this out."
A soft whimper sounded.
Alan's hand shook on the blaster.
It was the sound of a child.
"Father, think this through. Alvar would never want you to avenge him." Justin was standing a little in the way of the shot.
The sound of a child starting to cry filled the air.
Alan lowered his blaster. He couldn't kill Revan, not before a child. The blaster was taken from his limp grip.
"Get out." Alan looked at Revan. "Get out!"
Revan gave a slight bow of his head. He was passed the little boy before he left the diner. The image which filled Alan's mind was of his son's murderer stealing away the ghost of his son.
(Author's note: The way I started to picture Revan's and Mission's relationship isn't as friends, rather Mission views Revan as a good older brother, everything her brother wasn't. I sort of see the time they spent together on the Ebon Hawk as Mission learning more tricks about repair and such from Revan. Where his teasing and kind nature sort of came off as brotherly to her. That's why I am writing them as something closer to siblings than just friends, they will tease one another and do things which annoy the other because that is just what siblings do.)
Reply to Guest Reviews:
Ssj Shadow: I didn't take it that way. I went back through the material after you said that and found only Bress Shan, Revan's and Bastila's grandson, as a male Force sensitive related to them. His sister is also Force sensitive.
I also realize it is odd to have Vaner not being a Force sensitive, but I did have a plan for why this is as the story progresses. Only about half of Revan's own family are Force sensitive and that will be explained, as I said, as the story continues forward.
When I first read Revan I was sad Vaner wasn't Force sensitive and debated when I started writing this, especially after you had pointed it out, if I wanted him to be one. I decided against it. And I do see your point. Vaner will most likely be the only one of Revan's and Bastila's children who isn't a Force sensitive.
Thank you for both of your reviews.