Chapter 42
You can't save everyone.
Her former lover's body, broken and bloody in her arms-
Her battered eyes struggling to stay open-
The mask shattered-
I knew you'd come, my Angel—I've missed you.
The Force unites all, binds all.
Not like this! You will not-not like this...! I won't let you. I forbid it.
She held her once lover's dying body… and made a decision. The Force would show the way. Soul Bonded. Force Bonded.
All things die. Even the stars burn out-
But not that day.
Bastila fought back the tides of death. She joined her mind to that of the dying Dark Lord and brought her back from the brink of darkness of the Great Void.
Bastila ran. She tried to find her lover. The woman she longed to call wife.
Broken.
There would be no recall of death this time. No last desperate act of salvation. Revan fell to her knees, pleading...begging.
There was the snap-hiss of a lightsaber.
The glow burned before her eyes. Double-bladed...gold...red... gold...RED
Bastila! Please!
Stop him!
BASTILA!
I love you!
Bastila watched as her beloved Revan fell... down a great abyss. Ever deeper, darker… unending. Bastila reached for her sweet Revan, but could not touch her. A wall of lightsabers blocked her path. They were not the red of a dying star but the hues of a dozen different colors. They stopped Bastila from reaching her beloved. No! This cannot be! It will not be!
"Easy there, Love." Revan cooed. Tender fingers feathered back dark locks of hair, lips touched a brow touched in the sweat of nightmares. "You are here, not in that dark place that held you. You are safe in my arms, my Love." The words echoed within and without the Force Bond that connected the two.
Bastila followed the thread of warmth back to its origins and found the woman she loved holding the spool. She melted into that warmth; that glow.
Shielded from the frozen burn of the Dark Side that had touched her dreams-dreams? -no clearly a vision, the young Sentinel buried her face in the bosom of her lover. She basked there in those precious few moments of the time in-between half-sleep and fully waking.
"This dream... wasn't the one about the Star Map at the bottom of the ocean, was it?" The whispered question was rhetorical.
"I think they are connected," Bastila murmured. "The more maps we uncover the more I feel the stirrings in the Force. Dark ones," after a beat when Revan did not speak, Bastila prompted her. "Was it like this the first time? When you hunted them?"
"I don't know... I don't remember," came an honest answer. "There is a familiarity. But more—I don't know, babe. I just don't remember. Maybe it's all locked up inside here," the raven-haired woman shook. "I don't know how much the damage came from the bridge of my ship was or how much of it was the Masters' doing, but either way I can't touch it, even though I know it's there. I feel it always on the edges of my consciousness."
"And when the maps open? What do you feel?"
"The same as you- the frozen fingers of the Dark Side. A deeper knowledge of what lays in The Black. Threads, so many threads, yet how do we weave them...?" Bastila felt Revan shake her head. "That..." a sigh.
"Exactly," the younger woman said, mindful to keep her voice down so as not to awaken the other women still fast asleep in their bunks. "...even if we do, what will the tapestry show us, and what do we do with the knowledge once we have it? We are all threads in the tapestry of the Force, Revan. Sometimes I can see the treads around us, but around you they are shifting, changing so rapidly that I can't make sense of them. Normally the threads would guide my path within the Force. But it just isn't happening. They won't focus. It's even affecting my dreams. The Force has given me visions but I don't understand them. You had it before, saw it before, felt it. Are we fated for that same destiny? To fall?"
"Bastila, Love, strive to be what you want to be. Fate might be a lie and if it isn't than worrying about it won't change a thing.
"We fight against the darkness of the soul that has lost its way. The war we fight is not against powers, principalities, or Senates. It's against chaos and despair. Greater than the death of flesh is the death of hope, of dreams. Against this peril, we can never surrender. Yet it churns all around us, waiting to be transferred, to be born. Even in moments of revelation within the Force no one knows the shape of that future or where it will take us. We know only that it is always born in pain."
Bastila grew silent. Allowing Revan's words to sink in- the thoughts to take. Was that what the Star Forge was meant to be, a way to fight this despair, this death of dreams and hope? Was that what Revan had meant it to be? And if so, what darkness had Revan seen beyond the Outer Rim that led her to such great desperations to tempt the fall to the Dark Side herself in order to battle it?
The haunting voice, that thin metallic one from her dreams echoed now in her mind.
You can't save everyone.
Her former lover's body, broken and bloody in her arms-
Her battered eyes struggling to stay open-The Force unites all, binds all.
With that voice came the visions: Of running, trying to find Revan, only to witness her Beloved fall to her knees, her sabers lost… her lover pleading…
There was the snap-hiss of a lightsaber. The glow burned before her eyes. Double bladed...gold...red... gold...RED.
Threads... tapestries… fate and above all, the Force. Revan's own words were as haunting as those that lingered in the dreams: We fight against the darkness of the soul that has lost its way. The war we fight is not against powers, principalities, or Senates. It's against chaos and despair. Greater than the death of flesh is the death of hope, of dreams. Against this peril, we can never surrender.
Bastila vowed she would battle against this terrible enemy... this folly. The dreams must be a warning of what will happen should she falter in that resolve. She could not afford to fear the Dark Side now. She could not afford fear. She must embrace the whole spectrum of experience, from the heights of transcended joy to the depths of her loathing of Malak and for what the Council forced her to comply with—in the lies they had spun for Revan as Skye Ravensong. For pretending in front of all others that she was not in love with Revan or that Revan wasn't in love with her. Pretending they didn't want a life together after the war was over—to be wed.
Greater than the death of flesh is the death of hope, of dreams. Against this peril, we can never surrender.
She would not surrender! Oh no, she would not be afraid to feel. Living beings had emotions for a reason. The Sith- yes, they relied upon passion to fuel their powers, but what happens when that passion runs dry, what's left? Bastila would never think inwards, only for herself. She is a Jedi Knight—a Sentinel, the Order taught her selflessness, to think of others, to watch over the welfare of other beings.
It was said that if one could ever entirely comprehend a single grain of sand—really, truly understand everything about it—one would at the same time, entirely comprehend the universe. With that understanding- that insight- the great battle may never be lost. The Star Forge must be as that single grain of sand, the true weapon against death of hope, of dreams. Revan was more than correct when she said 'against this peril we can never surrender.'
The Council believes the course of Darth Revan and Malak to be of tragedy starting with them going off to war. But was that right or only their assumptions? Even as her lover spoke such words now they had echoes of the words Revan spoke before going off to war.
'We must think, Bastila! The Jedi Masters do not think, they know, but those stale answers aren't good enough now in these changing times. Consider their motives. Move past assumptions. The fear of losing power is a fear both Jedi and Sith have. That all those who wield unwavering power have.
'The darkness of the Mandalorians' war machine is swallowing up whole systems. To stand by and allow the slaughter is not only unjust but it goes against everything we have ever been taught as Jedi and the Code. I will not abandon the Code for the voices of doddering old soothsayers who tell us to wait and see what drives the Mandalorians to war. Does it matter now when millions are dying? This war cannot go on if we are to have any Republic left. Jedi are supposed to be defenders of the peace, protectors. And that is precisely what I am going to do. Yes, I disobey the will of the Masters, but I heed the spirit of the Code of the Jedi, more than that I obey will of the Living Force. Which do you choose?
'The Masters have a wisdom we do not have, Revan. Patience is called for. Yes, they see something darker pushing the Mandies to this war, what if this war is only a distraction Rev? What if the true threat is still out there just waiting?'
'And if it isn't? Even if it is, I will no longer stand by and watch this slaughter! Stay then and be their puppet. I love you, but you are not the only one who possesses the Battle Meditation. We both know Meetra can do it to. Only she refuses to have a leash you accepted. Come with me and Alek and Meetra and be a part of something real, my Love. Be a Jedi Bas... a true Jedi!'
Be a Jedi Bas...
I thought I was. But being good isn't always what is right. It was right of Revan to lead the Jedi to defend the Republic.
At the time of the wars, Bastila was the prime example of a perfect Padawan. She was always the 'good one.' Heeding the words spoken by the Masters. Obeying them without hesitation. Now that Bastila was a Knight... she saw the deceptive nature of the Masters, how they manipulated Revan, then and now.
The Masters demanded Bastila to lie, to go against her own nature, her own instinct to adhere to the Code of the Jedi... claiming that it was all for the greater good. Revan was right all those years ago. The Masters do not think... they know... tired old stale answers were most definitely not good enough. Not right enough. Not then not now.
What were their motives? Once you moved past the assumptions, what was left? Bastila wondered... and could not help but ponder back on Dantooine why did it take so long for the Masters to send an intervention against the Mandies that plagued the farmers of the plains? Why didn't the Masters bother to send even a single padawan or band of youngling acolytes at the cusp of their Padawan trials to investigate the insurgencies?
What were they waiting for?
Someone like Revan or rather Skye to push for it? Why ignore the pleas of the farmers? Daughters were taken from their homesteads- raped and killed. Sons outright butchered, yet no intervention from the Council against these marauders came until Revan, or rather Skye, ironically insisted on it. But why? Why wait? Why stall? It made no sense. A test to see if Skye would follow in the shadow of her own footsteps and rally against the Mandies who were hunting soft targets?
Move past assumptions. What was left? The fear of losing power? Was it that easy? Surely not. It couldn't be that simple! That basic! The Jedi were above that. But were the Masters?
Did not Master Atris call for the blood of Meetra Surik? How Atris raged against her former lover, even though she would never admit the very talented Jedi Knight meant anything to her. It was a lie, Bastila knew how deeply in love Atris and Meetra had been, as much she and Revan had been... were... ARE.
It was only for her relationship with Revan that Bastila knew anything of Meetra's relationship with the Jedi archivist. Meetra shared a deeper connection to Revan than even Alek who would later become Darth Malak had. Dare she admit it, but before the Force bond that connected Bastila to her lover, Revan and Meetra shared a very deep connection. Some said that Meetra had an unnatural ability to Force Bond anyone to her. That she was like a siphon of the Force itself, it made many of the Masters leery of her. It was why Meetra always and deliberately down played her abilities so that those like Master Varook believed she was mediocre at best.
Had Bastila not known her lover or that Meetra had only eyes for Atris, she might have been jealous over the deep connection she shared with Revan. It was only much later that she had learned that Revan and Meetra had shared a romantic relationship, though it only began and ended during the war.
Bastila cuddled to her beloved's warm body, Meetra was scarcely a memory, now. She was known only as 'the Exile'. No one spoke her name within the halls of the Temple on Coruscant or in any of the hidden Enclaves. She was simply just 'the Exile'. And in a brief moment the young Sentinel almost felt guilty for stealing Meetra's beloved despite the fact Bastila had been there first.
Bastila felt as if she were falling awake. In the opening of her eyes she saw Revan, not as the Nagai had been before the war. Not as she was during, or after the conflict when Revan had claimed the Sith title Darth, but as she is now. Here as Revan was- after the scars of battle, the scars of war, after the scars of the Masters, still strong, charismatic and powerful. Perhaps even more powerful than she had ever been. For now, she had a legacy- one many feared. The Masters certainly did. Not the simple repeat of old histories, but the rebirth of it in a new form. They feared what would a reborn Revan do once she gained the knowledge of not only of who she had been but what had been done to her. All the lies and the spin-doctoring, the tailor-made life that wasn't hers.
Bastila knew exactly how this would be handled. More spin-doctoring, not a ounce of ownership either with the fallout of what the Masters had done to Revan, or the lies they forced Bastila to commit. They would deny the naked truth—their plans ultimately failed.
The Masters would say this was all a re-testing... that coming through it was Skye's (not Revan's) Jedi trials. That Skye overcame the darkness that was Darth Revan. But Revan... would never die. Not the woman who she was, is, or would become. Revan was a legacy. The Living Force made it so.
There was nudity and nakedness and in this moment Bastila's beloved lay naked before her. And the young human revelled in that vulnerability and trust. More—she worshiped it. After Skye's reinvention, the deliberate lies and hyperbole- trust was hard to form let alone maintain between the two of them despite the Force Bond. But after that night on Tatooine, everything changed. Unquestioning trust was given birth to that night. Trust Bastila had every intention to nursing and nurturing into old age.
Her fingertips traced the markings on her lover's pale white skin. Not the intricate tattoos of the tusked panther or dart hawk, but the scars her back bore. The scars Skye once thought came from a fighter crash and where she was supposedly rescued by a then unknown 'angel'—an unnamed Jedi.
The scars, in truth, came from the decimation of the bridge of the Ravager, Revan's flagship after Malak had turned on his Master. Bastila vividly recalled cradling the bleeding woman in her arms, a body so broken and scarred she thought despite her efforts to save Revan's life the Dark Lord would inevitably succumb. There was a tiny thread of life so very thin, as thin as the string of a spider's web. Bastila followed that faint thread back to its origins and found the woman she once loved under the mask of the Dark Lord.
Revan's mask had miraculously saved the face from being scarred, not so with the back. It was the Master's plot that once healed from kolto tanks and a Jedi Healer that Revan be heavily tattooed on her back to cover the scars and a story implanted so deeply in her mind that she'd believe them to be true.
"They don't hurt anymore." Revan said lazily feeling her beloved's fingers tracing old wounds. "Strange, there are phantom pains within the tattooing however. Like they did the day I got them."
"That day wasn't... real." Bastila whispered, her voice holding a hint of bitterness. "The Masters ordered them for you when you were still in a coma, and invented the story that went with it."
The Nagai nodded into the pillow. "We talked about that, lover. Nothing can be done about what is past, what the Masters have done. I can be angry about what was done sure, but what good will that anger do for me here and now?" Revan cuddled closer to her Bastila, "I can think of much better things to do before we hit Manaan's space port than dwell on the Masters." Now it was her turn for tracing her fingers along her beloved's flesh. Not along the human's smooth unscarred back, but down her toned thigh to the center of her warmth.
When knowing, fingertips brushed against the small bundle of nerves within her, Bastila sucked in a breath of warmed air. Mindful to be keep so very quiet in her ecstasy lest she wake the other women in their quarters. Since Tatooine, the two lovers had perfected the art of making love very quietly while sharing a bunk on the Hawk. Their cries of release echoed boisterously through their Force Bond where no others could hear their joy.
Only in that brief moment of sensual bliss did the young Sentinel forget her nightmare vision the Force had given her. It was only when she rode the waves down did she recall the utter fear of losing Revan to the bleakness of Malak's madness or to whatever fate the Masters had in store for Revan once the war was over. She knew Masters Atris, Vrook, Zez-Kai El and several of the others on the Council wanted to erase Revan's mind once more whether or not she recovered her true identity as Revan and exile her as they had Meetra Surrik. Even Master Vandar believed such a decision was a prudent one. The Dark Lord Revan could not rise again.
KOTOR~ KOTOR~ KOTOR~ KOTOR~ KOTOR~ KOTOR
"You got yourself a fast-little ship. Huh, I'd forgotten what engines sounded like. The closest thing to that on Kashyyyk is an uller in mating season. Ugh! Frightful." Jolee said sitting down next to the Nagai at the central hub where the crew took their meals.
Skye looked up from her plate of synthesized protein cakes and what might at one stage have passed for an instant military mess version of scrambled eggs. "So, you wanted a ride on my ship?"
He took a sip of caffa and paused before answering. "Or it could be for the free food. What's this gunk that comes out of the synthesizer on this bucket anyway?" he pushed around the same yellowed mound of eggy mush on his tray that Skye was eating from her own. "Don't you ever clean that damned thing?"
"I've delegated Mission to that small chore. Just be thankful it's not salient green. Hear that stuff is made from people…" Came a blithe answer. "So seriously, why come?"
"I'm old damn it! I'm allowed to be enigmatic when I want to be, and don't you go telling me otherwise!"
The former Dark Lord brandished a look that said: I'm not amused.
Bindo pretended not to notice. "You know, you remind me of someone else I knew ages ago. Pleasant enough fellow, great destiny… all of that. Breath like a bantha."
Skye didn't even look up as she was cutting into the sausage patty (something she finally decided what the protein rectangle thingy was supposed to be imitating.) "Did you annoy this person endlessly, too?"
"Oh, ho ho, very funny. Is it my fault some people are so easily annoyed? They're like impatient little children with blasters."
"Never cared for blasters over much. Indelicate weapons for the less civilized. A blade is far better. Close and personal."
"Most Jedi do."
"I was raised at a monastery for the Night Mother before becoming a Jedi, in case you forgot. Nagai are all about the edge of their blades. Maybe being so old… it slipped your mind." Skye stared at him for a moment, testing to see if he took the bait. The young Jedi was still undecided whether or not Bindo knew the truth of her being Revan.
From behind him Bastila was approaching with her own tray of food as well as a deeply satisfied glowing smile. Through their Bond, Revan could still feel the warmth of their early morning activies wafting off the woman she adored. Truth be told, she felt it as well. Seeing the old codger however was a sudden dampening deluge on a picnic.
"Anyway, where was I?" Bindo said refocusing his mind; you could almost see him scrambling through the pages of memory to recall his story. "Oh yes, Andor Vex, was his name. The Force swirled around him like a hurricane. That was how great his destiny was."
'What are you two talking about?' the human asked of her raven-haired paramour through their Force Bond
'I asked him why he really wanted to come instead of answering he's rambling about someone that I remind him of back in the day. I'm sure he will eventually make his point. He's trying to be all mystical and Jedi –Masterish.'
'How the old like their parables,' teased Bastila.
'Cut my head off with a saber if I ever get that when we become his age will you?'
Had they been alone Bastila would have kissed Revan on the forehead for such a quip. "Never heard of him." Bastila said allowed.
"No either of you would have. Sometimes swirling Force is just swirling Force. It gets us old Jedi excited at our age so we go 'ooooo, destiny!'"
Skye actually smiled at that.
Jolee hugged his cup of steaming caffa between his hands and blew at the steam rising above it... making it swirl before the Nagai. "Well it turned out that poor Andor believed a wee bit too much in the infallibility of that destiny. That overconfidence turned out to be his downfall."
"I supposed there is some hidden meaning in your little memory." Skye said.
"I don't know. Are you overconfident? I hadn't noticed. Even if I had, I would never comment on it. We're talking about Andor, remember?" he took a sip of the hot drink. "Let's see... oh, yes. Andor's downfall, I was pretty young myself, when it happened. At the time, I thought Andor's destiny couldn't be more boring."
"That must have been a long time ago. How young are we talking?" Skye couldn't help the dig at the old man's age. After all he constantly brought it up.
"Well let's just say that I was a strapping young lad with a full head of hair and Coruscant was a small town with a well. Heh heh."
"So, we're talking waaay before they invented hyperdrives then." Skye smirked.
"Oh, you're hilarious!" the old man wrinkled his craggy face.
"I thought so."
Bastila chuckled. In some ways Jolee reminded her of Dantooine's chronicler and not for the base reason they both shared the same skin color but rather that both elderly men had a tendency to ramble on in 'storyteller mode' when a simple answer would have sufficed. Bastila had spent a far longer time amongst the Masters and elder Jedi than her lover had, either as Revan or especially as Skye. Ergo she had a higher tolerance when the old ones slipped into ramble-mode.
"I was just about to abandon Andor to whatever the Force intended for him when his ship was overtaken by a Dimean warship. Now you've probably never heard of the Dimeans, but at the time they were a nasty lot led by a nastier overlord named Kraat. Tall fellow. Big teeth.
"Kraat has us hauled onto the bridge of his ship for questioning, and that's when I knew Andor's density was at hand." Jolee paused for effect.
Skye simply gave him an imperial wave of the hand commanding him to continue the narrative.
"Well Andor decided that his destiny makes him invulnerable and starts all sorts of demands. Free me now! I'm not answering questions, blah blah blah. Don't you know who I am?"
Was there a knowing look from the old human's eyes when he said that last part or was it Revan's imagination?
Bindo simply went on. "Kraat decides he's had enough and begins crushing Andor's neck. I told the boy he should have kept his mouth shut. I think he agreed too... or those could have been just gurgling noises. Well... well, anyway. Kraat has enough of Andor and tosses him aside into this giant energy intake shaft. Ando gets sucked in and starts bouncing around- heh, screaming, heh heh.
"Maybe Ando hit something sensitive on the way down or just didn't agree with the reactor core, next thing I know all the ship's alarms are ringing."
"Honestly, Jolee..." Bastila chided him but the old man continued.
"Everyone panics and I run, barely making it to the ship in time before the explosion. Kraat dies horribly, and the Dimean never quite recover. Changed the political course of the entire sector for centuries to come. I'd call that quite a destiny, wouldn't you?"
"I hate you, old man." Skye muttered under her breath.
Bastila had a different reaction. "You can't honestly believe Andor was even responsible for such an act."
"What are you kidding?! What are the odds of that happening, anyway? A billion-to-one? You should so do well as to be sucked into the engines of some evil Sith Lord, you know. Andor was a hero... sort of."
"We can always ask T3 or HK to calculate the odds." Skye said. "Though, I never like being told the odds of something succeeding or failing until after I've done it. Was there a point to your story other than evading the questions to why you wanted a lift?"
"Well perhaps I have a duty to point out what you should have learned from this. Or perhaps... no. Was that convincing? It's been awhile since I've had to be in the company of someone that needed that kind of babysitting."
"You're not used to any company. Stop being an old coot."
"Humph! I might be. But a mouthy young thing like yourself shouldn't get to call me an old coot, dammit!"
"Then maybe you shouldn't wax philosophical about how best avoid being called an old coot rather than waving the 'I'm old, damn it,' flag all the time and answer a question directly when asked of you. Like why come on my ship?"
By this time the others had joined them for first meal. While they hadn't heard the story of Andor and Kraat, they had their various opinions on why Bindo came with them.
It was Carth that spoke up. "Ah come on Skye, it's obvious, isn't it? Jolee, you decided to leave your little hermitage in the forest and come help us stop the Sith. I guess you realized this was the worth coming out of retirement for?"
"Yeah that's right, Sonny, the Sith are the greatest evil to hit the galaxy since the Mandalorians. And they were the worst thing since Exar Kun. Blah blah blah. Meh, etcetera etcetera, etcetera."
"Okay old man you lost me there, are you trying to make a point?" the pilot looked confused. He was positive the reason Jolee climbed out of the world of indigenous walking carpets was to fight the good fight.
Skye snorted and took up her tray of food to the recycler.
"Make a point? Me? Ask our fearless leader here, she'll tell you I'm just a snarky old coot- and that means I don't have to make points. Now leave me be you bunch of impatient twits before my caffa gets too cold to dip my toast into."
"Fine by me old man." Canderous said shoving a forkful of sausage patty into his mouth then chewing once then pocketing it into his cheek in order to speak around the mass. "Battle plans and strategy are best left to younger minds that don't have to be reminded of the battlefield. So, fearless leader..." he looked to the Whelp, "I assume you and Bastila here had one of your Jedi visions."
Skye returned to the table and because Zaalbar had taken her seat while she was bussing her tray, so she now sat between Mission and Bastila or rather she did after having the girl scoot over a chair. "Yes. It's on the ocean floor - naturally given Manaan's topography. This means we need a submersible and weighted diving suits or wet suits. It will also mean finding a way to avoid the fraxon sharks."
"Easy, just kill the beasties." Canderous said.
"The most expedient answer is not always the better choice, Canderous." Bastila chastised the old merc.
"Besides killings a pack of sharks will only raise them into a feeding frenzy. That much blood in the water will only exasperate the problem of their presence, not lift it..." Juhani shook her head causing her topknot to sway at her shoulders.
"Actually, I think I have a solution for that." Skye looked at the much younger woman. "You have a particular talent in the Force that allows you to control many animals at the same time."
"You refer to the kath hound pack on Dantooine."
"Yeah. Look if you can control the hounds, can you do the same with the fraxon sharks? Or at least make them believe we are either unappetizing or uninteresting, maybe part of the school, pack, or pod whatever you call a bunch of sharks."
"School or pod is acceptable. Many such as the Selcath call groupings of sharks a shiver or frenzy." Juhani informed the other woman. The Cathar was after all an amateur or rather a better term might be an exozoologist hobbyist. Understanding an animal made it easy for her to manipulate and Force-control them. "Yes, I can do so. Making them believe we are unappetizing will be easier."
"I don't think they can understand ' ' stickers." Mission said referring to the Tarisian method of teaching younglings that some colourful substances even if they smelled sweet or looked pretty were poisonous. As a joke, some of the swoop gang bangers placed the stickers on bags of Spice.
"Perhaps not, Little One," Juhani smiled indulgently. "But they will understand- the sharks will message all the same."
"Query: will I be accompanying you on this underwater excursion master?"
"Afraid you'll rust up, tin-can?" Mission teased. "Don't be, we got loads of lube and oil in the garage for Skye's bike. Just spackle you with it, maybe an oil-bath and bang- all new and shinny. Or..." she paused looking at the rust-colored chassis. "...sort of."
"Annoyed clarification: No, pre-pubescent tail-head, I am not afraid of rusting. Irritated statement: while I am durable and fully functional in the vacuum of space, my hardware is not fortified against the pressures of underwater explorations."
"Don't worry HK. With the Sith having an embassy on Manaan, you will remain and guard the ship." Skye answered.
"Sarcastic reply: Oh joy, just what I wanted! To babysit this bucket. Again."
"But you're so good at it, HK." Skye smirked. "Keep up the good work."
T3 bleeped and twittered to which the Nagai nodded her head.
"You? Yes. I'll need you to help pilot submersible's guidance systems to the Star Map's nav-point. As well as any other computing hiccup, we'll come across."
"So how are we going to play this?" Carth asked. "Ask the Selcath government for a sub and just go down to the ocean floor? They won't sanction it, not with Manaan being the capital of the kolto mining trade."
"Not to mention a bunch of Jedi going down below in the deep dark blue will make more than a few heads of the Sith boys raise their heads." Canderous pointed out.
"Yeah. That's the rub. We may be forced to do this on the sly." Skye said. "Ol' Tin-Jaw knows what we're up to. He has to or he's more of a dunderhead than I remember." Skye frowned. "The death of his number one minion will piss him off, but he'll be angrier at Bandon's failure- even dead- than at us. Not to mention you boys took out his top bounty hunter back on Tatooine."
"Expect some kind of hit squad or set-up. There will be Sith officers there trying to deliberately taunt us into a fight so we are the ones seen as breaking the peace treaty on Manaan."
"They do that and the Republic will become sanctioned. Without kolto on the frontlines that could cost us more than we can ever pay, maybe even the war." Carth added.
"Keeping my trap shut isn't hard. Learned to do it on Taris during the Sith occupation. Those twits were a boil on my ass but I didn't tangle with them if I didn't have to. Most of the time we just stayed out of each other's way. But you, Orange Boy, have major anger issues. You don't know when to keep your teeth together and when to rage hell." Canderous deliberately baited the other male.
Carth slammed his fork down into the fake-eggs spilling half onto the surface of the tabletop. "I can keep it together long enough to get done what needs to be done, Mandie. I have more control over myself than that. More than you!"
The others were all looking at the skewered yellow lumpy mash as if to say: Seriously?
"If I were you Whelp, I'd leave Orange-Boy back with the assassin droid to guard the ship. Out there, first Sith who crosses his path and makes one comment about his ugly jacket there and he'll be flying off the walls." Canderous ignored Carth's outburst.
"Maybe that's something worth considering." the Nagai titled her head imperiously.
"Now wait just a minute, you'll take the Mandie and not me?!"
"Indoor voice Onasi. We're all here; we can hear you just fine." Skye cautioned. "If you can't handle Ordo taunting you, how will you cope with the Sith doing the same? Your temper tantrums will jeopardize the mission. So, if you can't keep it together then you will be staying here with the droid." It was a command.
"Division of labour. Canderous, you Mission and Big Z head for the seedier parts of Manaan. You know where to start, of course."
"Swoop Track." Canderous said.
Mission at the same time said: "Swoop track".
Which was very closely echoed by the Wookiee's bark: "Swoop Track."
Skye nodded approvingly like a well pleased teacher. "See what you can find out about any bounty hunter movements or anything else on the slum-and-scum side of things that Sith or any other malefactor might be dipping their fingers into. If it interferes with our mission, make it so that doesn't. And if you can find a use for them to make a bit of disruption for our enemies, do it. Canderous given your rep and experiences on Taris, you know exactly what to do. Make it so.
"Onasi you, T3 and the gray-beard here," she pointed her chin towards Jolee, "head for the Republic Embassy. See what you can learn about how our troops are faring, make use of the Jedi Letters of Mark to open doors that might otherwise be closed. Bindo, you continuously wax on like a grizzled Master and that's all the non-Jedi will see. Bore those desk jockeys and red-tape pushers with one of your parables, if needs be. Your task is to use official channels to see what the Sith officers- not the grunts- are up to.
"Malak will have seeded the place with Force users. He is a thick-skulled brute, but he can be surprisingly intelligent. These Force users will, as they had on Taris, make grand promises to potential Force users to become Sith acolytes and ship them off to Korriban. These Sith Force users will not be hard to miss; they will preen and be of deep self-importance. That can be so easily manipulated if you coddle that vanity against them."
There was a knowingness to those words that did not belong to a Republic Scout, but to one that once belonged to the Dark Order of the Sith. This was Revan's voice. Darth Revan's memory. Those around the table paid close rapt attention.
"No doubt the Sith will lead any found Force uses-Selcath or any other sentients to believe that if they prove themselves they will be sent to Korriban to become novices in service of a greater power than the Jedi have ever held.
"We know they will spin the use of the Force to their advantage. Make no mistake, these so-called Dark Jedi care not a whit for these unfortunate souls. If Malak follows the prescribed patterns of the Sith promising great power for willing servitude, the officers themselves are deluded into believing that they will be afforded the opportunity to become Malak's new apprentice.
"I know it's not your strong suit Carth, but do try to be subtle. If you have to play the 'Watch and See' card, do it and that's a gods-damn order. So, don't franking blow it. Bindo's good at keeping his head down aren't you, you old coot?"
Her direct look to the aging male was a deliberate challenge. Was not the old Jedi doing that at this very moment—the 'Watch and See card?' Waiting to see if Revan rears her head and if so what will she do, or does Skye continue the pretence of her role of hiding in a shell like a turtle as a former Republic Scout-come-Jedi?
"Humph. I'll see to sonny-boy here don't worry about it, girl." Jolee said.
Revan went on with her briefing as if she had not been interrupted, "Bastila, Juhani and I will scout out opportunities that will get us below the waves. As I said there will be Dark Jedi here and most probably other direct minions of Malak's skulking around, we will handle the situation. Use your best judgement, think strategically- not passionately. If you think with enflamed passion you will die. Worse than that, you will die a fool.
"Glory means nothing if you are dead." Skye looked directly at Canderous, "Don't believe me, just ask Mandalor. Oh. Wait. You can't because he's dead. Revan took his head. More importantly his mask and then she hid it, so that no other Mandalor can take his place.
"Revan put an end to the all Mandalorian glory; Bastlia put an end to DarthRevan's glory that day on the bridge of the Ravager. Learn from it. Glory did nether warlords not a rot of good and it won't for any of you. So, don't go fraking chasing after it if someone goes and steps on your toes in this place. Please pretend you all have gray matter between your bloody ears and act accordingly." One look around the team Skye / Revan spoke once more. "Okay after chow gear up and head out. That's it."
KOTOR~ KOTOR~ KOTOR~ KOTOR~ KOTOR~ KOTOR
AN: I am switching between the names Revan and Skye more frequently. With Bastila our hero can be her true self- Revan. With others, she still must wear a mask (ironic, no?) of Skye.