For a long time, Admiral Cede stairs through the forward observation viewscreen in utter silence. At last, he heaves a heavy sigh.
"This news is quite a lot to take in." Cede shakes his head in disbelief, squeezing his eyelids shut and pinches the bridge of his nose with his left hand forefinger and thumb. "Darth Malak dead, but we lost Admiral Dodonna and over a hundred Republic warships… And to top it off, Darth Revan has returned..."
Admiral Cede turns back to face Carth, who sits hunched forward behind the holodisplay table, his hands clasped together against his chin. Cede walks over and takes a seat himself.
"What else can you tell me?" Cede asks, his voice hard, but his eyes traitorously pleading.
"Only that Revan chose to imprison me, rather than kill me. He was more than capable, but he let me live." Carth replies, uncertain. Admiral Cede clears his throat, and also hunches forward, looking thoughtful.
"The Republic will lose this war." Cede says suddenly, somberly, causing Carth to plant his forehead against his own knuckles. "With so much of the fleet destroyed, we can only spare enough ships to protect worlds within the Core. The Colonies, the Inner Rim, all of those worlds who depend on the Republic will be lost to the Sith Empire..."
"No." Carth says suddenly, standing up. "There must be something we can do…. Something, anything!"
"How do you propose we do that, Carth?" Cede asks, now not masking his concern. "How do you propose we challenge the Sith?"
"I don't know, sir." Carth answers honestly. "But we cannot give up. We can't."
Cede stares at Carth, and sets his jaw.
"You're right. We have to stand together against the darkness." Admiral Cede nods in agreement. "The Republic only falls when good men and women stop fighting for it. There are still planets fighting against the Sith Empire, and we must show them solidarity if we don't wish to lose them. We must fight for victory, or death. For the Republic!"
Darth Revan stands thoughtfully in the center of a chamber, listening to the recording of a datacron. Bastila stands just outside the door frame, just within earshot. This was the sixteenth datacron Revan had activated and reviewed, and it had become apparent to her that none of them had provided the answers Revan was looking for.
Then again, Revan hadn't told her what he was looking for anyway. But Revan had become engrossed with this most recent datacron, which was evidently a recording Revan had made himself around the time he had first discovered this world.
"…vert Jedi here. There are some within my forces that do not wholly support my leadership, and that will need to change." the recording of Revan's own voice rang out. "Once Alek and I are done here, we plan to travel to Rekkaid. I found the planet's coordinates in one of the data nodules here; though not without considerable repair and effort to power the blasted thing. This world and Rekkiaaid share something in common, they seem to have once belonged to the Sith. Exar Kun and Ulic Qel-Droma were the last Sith Lords, but these reports suggest a separate Sith Empire altogether."
Revan furrows his brow, but does not speak. Rather, he listens until his recording repeats the coordinates of Rekkaid before turning the cubical device off. He sets the datacron down, and straightens, looking quietly thoughtful.
"Bastila." Revan calls evenly. Immediately, the former Jedi enters the room and kneels behind the Dark Lord.
"Yes, my Lord?" Bastila inquires.
"You told me that our patrols discovered Mandalorians in systems nearby?" Revan asks.
"Yes, master. The informants suggested that the Mandalorians seemed to be searching for something." Bastila answers, calling back her memories of the conversation. "Although, they weren't sure of what the Mandalorians could possibly be searching for."
Revan closes his eyes, and a series of images seemingly flash within his mind. When he opens his eyes again, the Dark Lord steps quickly past Bastila, prompting the young woman to rise and follow suit.
"My Lord?" Bastila inquires urgently, following close behind.
"We are heading to Rekkiad. Contact Canderous Ordo, and tell him to meet us there." Revan orders sternly.
"Yes, my Lord." Bastila replies, offering a small bow of her head while keeping up with the Dark Lord's pace.
CHAZWA
"INCOMING!" shouts a voice, but is drowned out by the thundering of multiple explosions. Sith troopers slowly advance through rubble towards the Republic-supported smuggler haven. Battered Republic soldiers take shots at the approaching Sith battalion, but continue to be pushed back by the sheer overwhelming numbers of not only the Sith troopers, but the thousands of war droids as well.
"Come on, you kath hounds!" Canderous Ordo barks at his squad. "Show me you d'kuts know how to fight a war!"
Canderous heaves his heavy repeating carbine up, and unleashes a torrent of devastating blaster bolts on the enemy cover zone. Several of the bolts catch an unlucky smuggler trying to run to cover further back, and obliterates a duracrete slab serving as several Republic troopers' own cover.
A Sith soldier wearing a red variant of the trooper armor hurls a thermal imploder past the concrete slab, and the resulting explosion completely disintegrates multiple enemy soldiers and locals. Canderous ducks against his cover, chuckling.
"That's more like it!" he hollers pridefully. He pushes himself up off the ground and motions to his troops. "Move it up, scum! We have to take this city by nightfall! Show me you dogs are better than those Pubs! Remember, Verdon Ka and Carida are next to fall!"
His troops woop and cheer, thrusting their blasters skyward before hunching forward and rushing towards the enemy stronghold in the distance. Before Canderous can follow suit, he notices a Herald-class Shuttle fly low overhead, landing on a relatively flat section. Canderous raises a brow and heads towards it. Two Sith troopers take note, and form up at Canderous' flanks, waiting with the Mandalorian and standing at attention.
The shuttle boarding ramp lowers, and an Iktotchi with glowing orange eyes, wearing a dark red cloak debarks, followed by several humans wearing similar cloaks. The Iktotchi steps lively towards Canderous, stopping only a meter or so away.
"Canderous Ordo, I've come to relieve you of your command in this campaign." the Iktotchi claims with a deep, cold voice.
"That so?" Canderous asks, though his tone clearly shows his disdain. "And under who's authority?"
"Our Lord, Darth Revan, has ordered as much." the Iktotchi replies, ignoring Canderous' sarcasm. "It seems Lord Revan desires your involvement in a personal matter."
This revelation completely changes Canderous' demeanor.
"Should have said so sooner." Canderous chortles. "When do I leave?"
"Now. The shuttle shall take you to the Revenant, and you shall join Lord Revan's fleet at Rekkiad." the Iktotchi replies.
Canderous' expression immediately hardens, and he wordlessly hurries past the Dark Jedi.
For the third time since they had first landed on the broken world's surface, Bastila found herself leaning heavily against the metallic wall of her and Revan's quarters aboard the Daedalus. And as with the other two times, Revan observed, as if unsure of how to handle the issue.
How her lover was able to march across the long bridge, through the cavernous pass, and battle against so many Sith, including Sion was beyond her; the man showed no outward signs of the world affecting him. Of course, both Revan and Malak held power she can only dream of, but this place drained her.
"OBSERVATION: IT SEEMS THAT YOU ARE EXPERIENCING EXHAUSTION." the assassin droid, HK-47, quips from the doorway, his photoreceptors trained on Bastila. "COMMENT: BEING A SQUISHY MEAT BAG WOULD TAKE A TOLL ON ME AS WELL."
"Shut up you..!" Bastila growls, pushing herself off the wall and trudging towards Revan. "It's that blasted world..."
"Yes. The destruction the Mass Shadow Generator unleashed on Malachor V tore even the Force asunder, I surmise." Darth Revan says, gesturing with his left hand vaguely at the swirling blue and white light of hyperspace beyond the viewport. "Although, I have no actual proof one way or the other."
"How do you resist it, my Lord?" Bastila inquires, attempting to ignore the already throbbing headache forming behind her eyes.
Revan says nothing, but rather shrugs and turns to continue watching the swirl of hyperspace. He was not certain about that himself; rather, he chocked it up to being one of those things still locked away in his memories. He was constantly being reminded just how much the Jedi Council stole from him. How much knowledge of the Dark Side, of the Force as a whole, had they destroyed in their bid to transform him from enemy to pawn?
Bastila suddenly hurries to the refresher, holding one hand to her head, and the other to her stomach. The door slides shut behind her, but Revan still hears the sounds of her illness. There was no way he could bring her back there again. Not without considerable preparation, at any rate.
Bastila splashes her face several times with water, and then dabs herself dry with a neatly folded hand towel. She heaves a heavy sigh, and looks at herself in the mirror. She closes her eyes and leans forward, pressing her forehead against the glass, letting the cool surface bring at least some relief to her aching skull. This was trouble. Malachor V's terrible sensations had ebbed considerably since they had left the world behind; this sickness was not caused by that sensation. Rather, it was an increasingly recurring illness that had been persisting for the last three months. The prospect of what the implications were made Bastila both happy beyond words, and terrified at the same time.
"Something worries you." Revan says evenly, though not turning to face Bastila. Of course he could tell that much, Bastila surmises, their bond through the Force was so great it made lying to him virtually impossible.
"Yes, there is something..." Bastila replies, sitting on their bed, staring at the Dark Lord's back. "It's what we learned from Sion."
While this wasn't completely untrue, she still felt that it was too early to tell him anything about... that.
"Darth Nihilus." Darth Revan replies, audibly breathing in through his nose. This time, Revan does turn to look at Bastila. "A being powerful enough to consume the Living Force from others, even to the point of consuming an entire world."
"Sion told us that Nihilus wanders on the fringes of known space, so he could appear at any given time and we'd never be ready for him." Bastila nods gravely. "Even if he is a Sith, he's as much a threat to us as he is to the Republic."
"He's a threat to every living thing." Revan concurs placing his hands on his hips and looking to his left and right at the floor, thinking critically. After a moment, he locks eyes with Bastila. "What is worse, is that I may not have the power to destroy him."
Bastila blinks and her head jerks back in surprise.
"You... You what?!" Bastila demands, the edges of her mouth dropping somewhat in disbelief. "But, you're Darth Revan! You are the Dark Lord of the Sith! Surely you-"
"No, Bastila." Revan interrupts with a terse tone. "I know the power he uses. It is a horrific ability, truly. Force Drain... or so is one name for it."
Revan begins pacing side to side, touching his forefinger and thumb to his chin. The concentration and angry concern in his eyes shows Bastila how important this issue truly is to her lover.
"It isn't something you can be taught to use, and it isn't something someone else can teach you." Revan explains. "Think of it like Force Lightning; you have to experience it firsthand, and live."
"And surviving being the problem." Bastila shudders. "How could someone like Nihilus come to exist? And how could he have escaped your and Malak's notice?"
"I have no idea." Revan admits, huffing out a heavy sigh. His expression hardens. "But I know someone who might."
"Kriea." Bastila guesses intelligently.
"Yes. Sion said that he and Nihilus were apprenticed to Kriea when she called herself Darth Traya." Revan concurs, recalling the now dead Sith's words.
"Then we should focus our efforts on finding Kriea first." Bastila suggests, to which Revan nods in agreement. "We'll get her to tell us everything she knows about Nihilus."
The two go silent for several minutes, contemplating the threat posed to them and the galaxy. Revan returns to watching the swirl of hyperspace, prompting Bastila to stand up and walk up behind the Dark Lord, raising her hands to rest them on Revan's shoulders, and laying her head against his back.
"What of the war?" Bastila quietly asks.
"We've already won the war." Revan replies evenly. "To be truthful, the war was over sometime before I struck down Malak."
Bastila looks up at the back of Revan's head wonderingly.
"The Republic was already on the ropes, hanging onto its existence by a thread. Malak's brutal way of waging war crippled every world he conquered, and the Republic fleet was already at a third of it's full strength." Revan explains to her. "His victory was as much a psychological one as a physical. Whatever victories the Republic gained were Pyrrhic at best."
"The Republic has two choices at this point. Either they surrender; or be destroyed." Revan continues. He scoffs. "And we both know that they will not surrender."
"It's pointless for them to keep fighting!" Bastila growls indignantly. "They crush themselves against us, see their cities burn, their soldiers die, and yet they cannot accept that they have lost!"
"As long as they have hope, the fighting forces of the Republic will never accept surrender as a viable option." Revan muses. "But if you take away that which gives them hope, then their will to fight vanishes."
"The Jedi Order." Bastila offers tentatively.
"Yes. ...Without the Jedi to lead them, the Republic will crumble." Revan nods, though looking contemplative. "We have much to consider, my love. But victory will be ours, and my vision for the galaxy shall become reality."
After a short while, Revan leaves his and Bastila's quarters, telling her to remain behind and rest. The effects of Malachor V still seemed to weigh heavily on the young woman. The durasteel blast doors leading to the bridge quickly slide open with a soft hiss from the hydraulics, permitting the Dark Lord to enter. He passes the two crimson armored troopers, who immediately snap to attention as he goes. He continues along the raised walkway, hands clasped behind his back, glancing side to side as the vessel's operators and officers go about their business. Finally, he stops and gazes out through the forward transparasteel observation windows. Within a few minutes, the blue swirl of hyperspace becomes streaks of light, and at last, the Daedalus drops out of hyperspace. A white worlds appears in the distance, seemingly growing in size as Revan's warship closes in.
"My Lord." came a professional voice off to Revan's left. Revan turns, and sees a dark skinned human standing at attention. The man is fairly advanced in age, and wears the white uniform of a Sith Imperial Admiral. Like Revan, the man keeps his hands clasped firmly against the small of his lower back. "I'm glad you've joined us on the bridge; I have something to report."
"By all means, Admiral Varko." Revan nods approvingly, giving the man his full attention.
"We received a transmission an hour ago from Ord Radama." Admiral Varko begins. Though his tone is professional, it is tainted with worry, and Revan can already guess at the reason. "It seems that your captive, Carth Onasi, has escaped from his prison."
When Revan does not reply, Varko continues.
"Evidently, he had help." Admiral Varko explains. "His son, Dustil Onasi, appears to have been the architect of Carth's escape."
"I see." Revan replies softly. His expression and voice are neutral. "Did they both escape?"
"No, my Lord." Admiral Varko replies, giving one quick shake of his head. "Carth was able to commandeer one of our transports, but his son was not able to escape capture."
"Casualties?" Revan asks simply.
"Nine, my Lord." Admiral Varko answers. "But the Onasi boy surrendered without further bloodshed. He has been placed in captivity, and has been interrogated to find out if he knows where his father has fled to."
"You needn't interrogate the boy for that," Revan says, rolling his eyes. "Carth is a coward. The first place he will go is where he will feel the safest; the Republic Fleet."
"Of course, sire." Admiral Varko nods. "Dustil Onasi has been kept alive only long enough for you to decide his fate."
"Execute him. Publicly." Revan replies immediately. "Give the holonet something to spread around. I'm sure it will reach his father eventually."
"Shall I have Kalatosh Zavros oversee the execution?" Admiral Varko inquires, to which Revan blinks at the Admiral.
"I had the impression that Zavros was killed on Taris, when Malak destroyed the surface?" Revan asks.
"It appears that he departed Taris and rejoined the fleet sometime before the bombing began." the Admiral replies. The makes no attempt to mask his disgust of the subject. "Malak's decision to destroy Taris was one thing, but he gave our own forces no opportunity to escape the bombardment."
"And now he is dead." Revan reminds the Admiral. "You will find that I do not share in Malak's zeal for destruction."
After a moment, Revan makes his decision.
"In which case, yes. Have Zavros oversee the execution." Revan orders. Better yet, the Dark Lord decides, he will make the order himself. "Admiral, is Zavros present on Ord Radama?"
"Yes, my Lord."
"Very well. Open communications with the prison there, and contact Zavros." Revan orders, to which Varko immediately walks away to comply. He returns a few minutes later, stopping behind Revan.
"My Lord, we have Lord Zavros on the holo." Admiral Varko informs him. Revan turns and walks toward a small, circular table which is glowing brightly as it displays a down-scaled image of a Togrutan male wearing what Revan could only describe as an eccentric outfit. A mixture of red and black robes and armor, covering the fallen Jedi from the neck down, and long, triangular pauldrons hang over his arms, connected to the breastplates.
"Dark Lord, I came as soon as I heard your summons." Kalatosh bows his head respectfully. "What would you have of me, my Lord?"
"Word has reached me of Carth Onasi's escape, and that it was his son, Dustil, that made this happen." Revan replies in a demanding tone, making Kalatosh visibly wince.
"Er, yes... yes my Lord, it is so." Kalatosh nervously replies. "The boy surrendered, and is being held in the interroga-"
"I am already aware, Zavros." Revan cuts the Togruta off, prompting Kalatosh to cease talking. "I want the boy executed, publicly. Let the rest of the Empire, the galaxy, know the price of betrayal."
"At once, my Lord." Kalatosh replies, bowing deeply, touching his right palm to his chest. He straightens after a few seconds. "Will there be anything else I may do in your service, my Lord?"
"No. See to your given task." Revan answers with finality. Again, Kalatosh bows, and the transmission ends, making the holoimage of the Togruta flicker out of existence. Pleased, Revan walks back towards the forward observation deck just in time to see another Interdictor-class Cruiser appear from the darkness of space. Admiral Varko joins the Dark Lord, observing the other vessel.
"It seems that the Revenant has arrived. Impeccable timing." the Admiral nods approvingly. "I believe that your Mandalorian friend is aboard, as ordered."
"Very good. Have Canderous Ordo transported here, and begin entering the planet's atmosphere." Revan orders. Admiral Varko nods and walks away to obey the Dark Lord's orders.
Wow... It took me waaaay too long to get back into this story. Every time I'd try to write, I'd just end up staring at the screen. Glad that's over! As always, I hope you enjoyed reading "page 5"! :D
