No more running
- Jen Sahara -
The cerulean sphere of Manaan loomed large through the cockpit window as the ship neared. It brought with it bitter recriminations; not long ago, I'd been in the Ebon Hawk, orchestrating a betrayal of the very crew that had guarded my back these past few weeks. I was not looking forward to the reunion.
It didn't help that Bastila wasn't answering. The bond felt faint and deadened, like a hazy, intangible mist – visible, and yet entirely elusive. I hoped it was merely the distance separating us that caused it to feel so; when I'd last been on Manaan, it had been impossible to ignore Bastila's overbearing presence.
"This is Ahto City Spaceport Control. Identify yourself," a crackly voice shot from the transmission, first in Basic, then Selkath. My view was painted by an endless blue panorama.
I knew my lines; HK was nothing if not thorough. The ship's signature was Czerka, and somehow he'd procured Czerka security codes as well. I leaned forward. "This is Janna Terran from Czerka Corporation, requesting clearance to land. Transmitting my clearance codes now."
I sent the data quickly, holding my breath for the reply. I trusted the droid's impressive abilities, and yet if the Selkath were to turn us away, I'd likely run out of fuel before reaching a new destination, unless I returned to Rii'shn. That was not appealing, considering the mess I'd left behind.
Finally, after a pause of minutes, a sibilant reply echoed through the cockpit.
"You have clearance to land, Ms Terran. Transmitting your atmospheric entry code and coordinates for Czerka docking bay R13. A reminder that all trade goods must be passed by customs first."
"Thank you." I shut the comm off, and guided the ship closer, switching to repulsors as we entered the tranquil atmosphere. But on top of everything else, my possession of this very vehicle was weighing worryingly on my mind.
"We've just stolen an Exchange ship," I muttered to myself as a console blinked with incoming landing coordinates. "Czerka's not stupid; they'll find out the signature's been forged, and that we nicked their security clearance. I need to get rid of this ship. Somehow..."
"Statement: That is well within my capabilities, master," HK-47's monotone voice scythed through the air; an abrupt, foreboding reply. I'd almost forgotten he was there.
My eyes closed in a blend of exasperation and dread. HK was conveniently handy in a fight, but I found it hard to dismiss the chaos we'd left while departing Rii'shn. And exactly how would a droid ditch a ship anyway? Blow it up? I grimaced.
A pulse in the Force snagged my attention; at first, I thought it was the bond. But as Ahto City crested the endless azure horizon, I deduced it was something else. My eyes narrowed. I hadn't even realized I'd been open to the Force; it was becoming instinctive to grasp onto it, ready for any complication or danger.
And that, in itself, is pretty scary with Sith Bitch in my head. I stretched my awareness out further; it felt clumsy and crude, but adequate for my purposes. The Force flared brightly then vanished, like a flame snuffed in the dark.
"Query: Master, do you wish me to take care of this problem for you?" HK echoed.
"Uh..." I trailed off vaguely. My sense of Bastila remained tenuous at best, but she had to be in Ahto City somewhere. The Force flickered once more – someone, somewhere, was wielding it. If it wasn't Bastila, then it would be that master of hers. Pity I couldn't think of a foreseeable reason for her to unleash the Force like that.
I needed to find Bastila, I wanted to avoid that Jedi Master, and the last thing I desired was the complication of Czerka suspicions and Selkath red-tape.
"Okay, fine. Just... don't hurt anyone!"
HK's eyes gleamed red with approval.
xXx
Bastila, can you hear me?
My boots left rubbery scuff marks on the gleaming Manaan floors. Despite my distraction, I couldn't help but feel a perverse sort of pleasure at that.
It had been easy enough to land in the Czerka docking bay, instinctive to persuade the Selkath official that my fee was covered under the Czerka maintenance agreement. Protocol droids infested the area like a plague of mites; attaining directions to the Republic Embassy was hardly laborious.
I was back in Ahto City, anxiety and nervousness curdling in my stomach. I dreaded the reactions of my former crewmates, but it could not compare to the terror of having Revan in my head.
This revelation was too colossal – running was no longer an option.
I'd expected the bond to be palpable again, now that I was in Ahto City. It wasn't. Bastila felt eons away; occasionally, faltering tremors of emotions slid through the mind-link, so faint and indistinct that I wondered if it was merely my overwrought imagination.
Doesn't it just figure, I muttered darkly to myself. The one time I actually want to talk to her, she's impossible to reach. It was ironically amusing, in a twisted why-does-this-happen-to-me sort of way. No matter what Bastila did, it seemed guaranteed to provoke my animosity.
Just what do I know of Bastila Shan anyway? Other than she was prissy, stuck-up, and prone to panicking. But perhaps that wasn't fair… she's been bonded all this time to Revan. I shuddered, presuming the only thing worse would be to have said Sith Lord hosting a tea party inside your actual mind.
But she's young... years younger than me. Still a Padawan, and thrust into the middle of this war because of her Battle Meditation. I didn't like her, I certainly didn't trust her, and yet I couldn't halt an unwanted modicum of sympathy.
I need to find her... and fast. My alternative was tracking down the Jedi Council themselves – and considering they were the ones who'd implanted Revan in my head... Well, they'd probably just reinforce Jen Sahara. But could I live with the knowledge that should my control drop – and stars knew how often that seemed to happen – then Revan would assume control once more? No! I can keep that schutta at bay. I have to!
I lengthened my strides, hurrying through a vast courtyard dappled with incoming rays of sunlight. The Force thrummed and coiled not far away. I was heading straight for it; it appeared to be coming from the Republic Embassy. And I can barely sense Bastila. An icy premonition shook me, dousing my proliferate thoughts. Kath crap. There can't be an attack. Not on Manaan.
But something is happening.
I pushed out through the bond again, this time in desperation. Look, I'm back on Manaan. What the frell is going on? I frowned as once more, there was no reply. My concentration turned inward to the wavering link that connected us; if anything, it felt weaker than before.
I was completely unprepared for a powerful, alien surge of Force power to slam through the bond. I stumbled, gasping Bastila?! as the foreign energy immediately ceased, leaving behind a withering connection to the only source of help I dared approach.
Panic struck within – What's going on? Are you there? – and the bond dimmed to a vague memory, a link fraying to near imperceptibility. Bastila was still there, but so faint I was starting to believe her life was in dire peril.
"Hey!" someone called in protest; I'd absently pushed past them while floundering through the milling throng. I turned, quickly gathering disseminated thoughts; a group of Sith solders in tan uniform were eyeing me over curiously. Oh great, I thought sourly. I swear these guys breed like gizka. The one who'd objected had a surprised look on his face as he nodded amiably at me.
Cordial Sith? What's next, charitable Hutts? Clarity struck me, and I cursed my own stupidity. This cloak I picked up on Rii'shn could pass for a Dark Jedi's garb. And my lightsaber isn't exactly concealed. It was deactivated, but the flutterings in the Force left me uneasy, and I'd been clenching it tightly since I'd traipsed past the Selkath customs official. Once more, I regretted I'd lost the second 'saber. The last time I'd fought with one weapon I'd had this itchy feeling that my guard was wide open.
I nodded back, containing a grimace, and resumed a quick pace to the Embassy. Another nudge through the mind link achieved nothing; my best course of action was to move. I strode past a pair of Rodians chatting in exuberant voices that cut through my internal preoccupations.
"(She's worth betting on, Lagos! This girl Twi'lek has only been swooping for one day, and already she's matched Queedle's time!)"
I glanced at them two Rodians looked deeply engrossed in their conversation, and both wore the fire retardant outfits of swoop racers.
"(She's completed one race, and you think she's the next great,)" the other scoffed. "(She's got no commercial backer, and that angry walking hairball who shadows her will stop any from approaching. Anyway, how many times have you thrown credits on would-be champions, only to see them crumple before Hukta Jax?)"
Nah, it couldn't be. "(Excuse me,)" I interrupted them in Rodese. They both turned to stare at me warily. "(I couldn't help overhearing your conversation. What's the name of this new swoop racer?)"
"(She calls herself 'Bek from Taris',)" the first Rodian said excitedly. "(A bit naff, really – everyone's claiming to be a swooper from Taris these days, since the records were destroyed in the Sith bombardment.)"
My lips twitched. Mission, what are you doing? "(Ah. Doing well, is she?")
"(Yeah! Did you see her?)" he replied happily. "(Not bad, for a first try, for someone so young!)"
Well, at least I know where she is. I nodded affably at the Rodians and bid them farewell, striding off toward the Embassy. Not sure if she'll talk to me though.
I turned a corner, and emerged into a sweeping plaza that was even grander than the previous. Extravagant pools of crystalline water immediately drew the eye; fountains spat streams of liquid that sparkled in the light. The ground was highly polished marble, and beyond the pools loomed pillars that announced entrance into a majestic building.
But something was wrong. People huddled in small groups, some pointing anxiously toward the large doors nestled between the pillars. Security droids hovered in buzzing clusters.
Nearby, vibrations of Force pulsed a warning.
My stomach lurched as I realized I could no longer sense Bastila. That building's got to be the Embassy, and someone inside is throwing the Force around like it's the latest fashion. I felt cold. My rampant thoughts couldn't help but merge into one conclusive deduction: the Republic was under attack.
But the Sith wouldn't dare, not on Manaan! They'd be defying the neutrality agreement! Then again, the Sith were hardly a sterling example of adept strategy.
Sometimes, I wondered if a Twi'lek dancing girl would do a better job of leading the Sith Empire. But that was a dangerous line of thinking, considering who was lolling about in my head.
Dammit, I thought it was bad enough with the GenoHaradan. Why have they attacked? I thought their sodding kolto supply hinged on the neutrality laws! Which meant that the Sith were happy enough to throw away their share.
Everything fell into place. Of course. They're after Bastila. They sent the GenoHaradan to kill me, and Dark Jedi to capture her. Fear coiled in my stomach, but I brushed it aside ruthlessly. I'm insulted, dammit. They must have considered me the easy option. But – that meant the Sith had contracted the GenoHaradan to come after me. Why would the Sith be after me?
Duh. I have Revan in my head. A glacial chill crept laggardly through my veins. How could they know about her? And if they know, who else does?
It all came back to Bastila – only she could answer my questions. But if the Embassy's been attacked...
If they managed to capture Bastila, then there went my explanation – and possibly, my only chance at getting rid of this unwanted scow in my head. I'm not a coward, no matter who I am. I have to get inside.
I glanced around hurriedly; so far, no uniformed Selkath were in sight. But they wouldn't be far away. I shook my head irritably, inhaled deep, and broke into a run.
Vaguely I was aware of the gasps of Ahto City residents as I careened past the superfluous pools of water and through the ceremonious pillars. A large door towered just beyond; I was willing to bet it was locked down from the inside.
"Halt!" a garbled shriek from behind had me spinning around, mere paces from the closed doors. A deluge of Selkath military was flowing into the courtyard; the leader of the closest squad had a gun aimed directly at me.
From this distance, a mere twenty metres, it looked like a disruptor rifle. My past memories were disjointed and vague, but I knew there were some things a lightsaber could not block. My weapon, gripped furtively in my right hand, was still deactivated.
"You are under arrest for violating the neutrality agreement! Lay down your weapon, Sith, or we shall open fire!"
Sith? The tan-uniformed soldiers had acknowledged me earlier. With mounting horror, I inwardly cursed the black robe that cloaked my bloodstained armour, and announced me as an enemy to the Republic. If the Selkath want to arrest me on sight, then the Sith are already inside.
And there ain't no way I'm surrendering to a bunch of walking fish.
My eyes flicked frantically around the courtyard as the Selkath squad took a step closer, guns trained on me. More armoured soldiers inundated the vast plaza, dispersing the huddled groups of civilians that had cloistered in the corners mere seconds ago.
I had to get inside; raw survival instinct overrode my growing panic, and I felt myself grasp out to the Force, stretching senses behind me into the Embassy. I could pick out two Force users, and a swirling of electrical impulses that coalesced into a mass of complex circuitry. A brief moment of surprise assailed me, even as I stared numbly at the advancing Selkath.
What is this? I must be sensing... the door controls?
But the tiny, dancing oscillations were far too complicated for me to manipulate – I could barely comprehend what I was sensing.
You dumbstruck nerf-herder, it's child's play! a derisive voice sneered. A surge of contempt swelled up inside, catching me off-guard and wresting the Force from my grasp. Don't let her take over! I felt the Force meld into the electrical vibrations, into a quick surge of energy that tightened to a pulse and then vanished.
A grating noise sounded from behind.
The closest Selkath gasped, yanking his blaster up to aim past me, and before I was fully cognizant I had whirled around and leapt towards half-open door. My surroundings stretched in that all-too-familiar way as I dived forwards into a roll, laser fire stretching into long bright lines all around me.
A robed figure inside held a red lightsaber, but in my heightened speed, I saw the laser bolts jar slowly into his torso before he had a chance to deflect them. My environs lurched back into normal time as both the door hissed shut behind me and the Dark Jedi screamed, collapsing to the floor.
Selkath one, Sith nil, I thought humourlessly, my eyes snagging on a second figure, whose hand was pressed desperately against the door control. Unsteadily, I scrambled to my feet, furtively glancing around the entrance foyer. The body of a receptionist lay behind a poraclay desk, and near one of the exits sprawled three Republic corpses.
"Who are you?" the Dark Jedi growled, swinging his lightsaber up defensively.
What, no immediate attack? I felt my mouth twist as I appraised the robed figure. Even Dark Jedi think I'm one of them. "Reinforcements," I quipped. "Latest orders are to head outside and surrender to the Selkath authorities."
I saw the man twitch, heard him snarl, and activated my lightsaber just in time to counter a wild lunge.
"You're not one of us!" he hissed, as sparks flew from our crossed 'sabers.
"What gave me away?" I panted, leaping backwards as he pulled back to strike again. "My cloak not the right shade of black?"
I made out a vague shadow of a sneer underneath his dark hood. "You'll die for your interference, weakling!" His off-hand raised in a sinister motion; I flung out my arm in a honed reflex, 'saber leaving my grasp and heading straight for him. Pitiful little Sithling. He should be on his knees! A blossoming of rage warmed in my belly as spinning red gouged into the Dark Jedi's arm. I felt an echo of the rage reverberate through the Force and twist through the 'saber as it snapped back into my grasp.
A severed hand landed on the ground with a splat, and my adversary shrieked.
"You – you bitch!" he gasped, doubling over as the lightsaber in his remaining hand wavered. His dismembered arm hugged tight against his torso.
I felt a cold smile curve my lips as the sweet surge of victory danced through me. "True Sith don't let pain stop them," I taunted. I took a step forward, lazily flinging my weapon out in a lunge. He parried ineffectively, groaning with the effort as he staggered back. I threw my weight behind the lightsaber, and the Dark Jedi stumbled, falling with a cry.
"You should have stuck to trooping," I whispered, as I drove the 'saber deep into his chest.
His scream was cut off as his flesh cauterized around my 'saber; I yanked it out, staring fixedly as spurts of warm blood speckled over his thrashing corpse. The cadence of rage and smug superiority froze; reality crashed a cacophony in my mind and my very words replayed sickeningly over and over.
True Sith... My cognition splintered into stark fear. Damn you, Sith Bitch. Get out of my sodding head! I hadn't even noticed the transition; she'd smoothly taken over as soon as there'd be an opening. I swallowed past a lump in my throat.
I knew, then, that Revan was stronger than whoever I was. Well, duh. She wasn't the Dark Bitch of the Sith for nothing. Gaining entrance to the Embassy had been her work, as had searing off that Sith's arm. I'd be a pile of guts back on Rii'shn if she hadn't taken over. Every time my life was in mortal peril, Revan saved me in her rage and violence and gratuitous disregard for life. But she killed so many... what if she takes over for good? How many more will she slaughter?
Will I even realize it? The Force pulsed somewhere nearby, shattering my horrified thoughts. I need to stop whimpering and find Bastila. She's the only one who can help me now.
I shook free of my frozen stance and strode out of the room, heading down a stark corridor that gleamed with wealth. Black burns speckled the walls, residue from blaster fire. I passed a door, and heard whispered voices within; soldiers, no doubt, hiding from the Dark Jedi that had infiltrated this place.
A shriek echoed through the halls, followed closely by a surge in the Force. The impassioned fury swelled once more inside, overriding my fear, my determination. I pushed back against it, desperate. I won't become her! Never again! I'd rather die! The dark emotions ebbed somewhat, even as logic reminded me that death was a distinct possibility.
I cleared a corner, as someone sneered, "You'd better run, little boy."
Two heads swivelled around to stare at my approach. One, a Dark Jedi; the other, a young Twi'lek who was cowering on the floor. He held a short green lightsaber, and despair was etched deeply into his face. Blood dripped from his lekku.
"Come to join the fun?" the Dark Jedi drawled, eyeing me over. My eyes snapped to the young Twi'lek; frantic tenacity sparked through his features and he lunged forward, stabbing his 'saber deep into the Sith's thigh.
The Dark Jedi let out an agonized scream, flinging his lightsaber round in retaliation. I gasped, running forward, but the Twi'lek dodged underneath the red blade and flicked his 'saber towards the other's torso. The black robe shrivelled and burnt as lightsaber met flesh.
The robed figure grunted, voice turning to a splutter as he collapsed to his knees. Bright red entrails gaped from within the folds of his cloak.
The Twi'lek scrambled fully to his feet, horror paling his cheeks as he gazed upon the dying Force user. His eyes flicked to me and he yelped, stumbling backwards before whirling around. He thinks I'm one of them.
"Wait!" I yelled, but the panicking boy paid me no heed, sprinting further down the corridor and out of sight. I followed in desperation, muscles straining as I forced them to work harder. Who was that? A young Jedi apprentice by the looks, but I hadn't expected to see any other Force users on Manaan.
I slid around a corner, but the Twi'lek was nowhere in sight. Bursts of raw energy were still pulsing nearby; my grip on the Force was tenuous, and I did not dare draw anymore in. I should find out who else is wielding the Force. Was Bastila somewhere in the building? Knocked unconscious, and almost dead? If so, would I find her in time?
What about the others? I tasted relief at the knowledge Mission and Zaalbar had fled the Embassy. Carth? Canderous? Juhani? If I had not run from Manaan, would I have been able to help them?
I barely registered the opulence of the place; polished walls gleaming with wealth and pride, marred with the occasional smatter of blood. I stepped over bodies – unconscious or dead, I didn't stop to check – the waves of Force power being melded and transformed in the distance were reeling me in, like a slave to its master.
I had not felt power like this for… a long time. But it was fading rapidly; whatever battle was ensuing, was almost over.
A tortured wail rung out through the Embassy's lavish rooms, and I froze outside a door, clutching my lightsaber tightly.
"Worm!" someone hissed on the other side. "You just don't know when to stay dead, do you?"
I thumped my hand on the door controls, and carnage burst into view. Two steps in front was a slain Dark Jedi, head and shoulders cleaved by what had to have been a lightsaber. Grisly cauterized chunks of flesh smattered the ground next to the corpse, and as I raised my gaze in horror, more broken bodies greeted me.
But deeper in the depths of this perdition, a black robed figure was throwing lightening that sparked and flashed over a body trapped against the wall.
A snarl ripped from my throat, and a flood of sweet tasting Force filled me with power, with life, with victory. I yanked it furiously towards me, and the perpetrator tumbled backwards like a dust-ball thrown into the wind.
I vaguely noticed the victim fall to a heap by the wall – my attention was solely focused on the Dark Jedi slowly rising to their feet. I stalked in, but blood was everywhere, fraying at the edges of my vision-
This is what Revan does, my conscience taunted. I can't let her out… I can't!
"Who are you?" the figure growled at me. "How dare you interrupt me – do you know who I am?" The Dark Jedi shot me a furious glare, and beneath the hood of the black robe I could make out slanting eyes discoloured an unnatural yellow. She brandished a red lightsaber threateningly at me.
"Yes, I have one of those too," I snapped, raising mine higher in response. "And frankly, I'm more interested in the breeding habits of banthas than I am in your identity."
"Interloper!" she snarled. "Whoever you are, you picked the wrong battle to join!"
I'm not afraid of her, I realized in surprise. Not in the least. Well, what was one Dark Jedi when compared to having the Sith Lord battle with you for control over your own mind?
"Wait," the woman breathed, and actually took a stumbling step backwards. Sickly yellow eyes widened under her hood. "You! You're supposed to be-"
"Yeah, yeah, dead, I know," I drawled, feeling my lips twist in dry humour. She knows. She knows about the GenoHaradan ambush... and about Revan. "What can I say? I'm a talented individual."
The Dark Jedi paused, and I could see the confidence steep back into her stance. She walked forward, slowly but assuredly, and I recognized she was not quite as worried about me as I had hoped.
"Well, well," her voice turned low and silky. I stiffened. Have I met her before? She almost sounds... familiar. "It must be my lucky day. I only came here for Bastila, but now it looks as if I'll capture two prizes instead of one."
My eyes narrowed. "I know you," I said slowly.
She laughed, and I heard the tones of an Alderaanian accent. "They really did a number on you, didn't they? We met little more than two months ago, Jen Sahara."
…
"You have everything you need?" the Jedi asked me quietly, her eyes seeming to pierce through to my soul. I looked down briefly, unused to such attention. Despite the plain brown robes the Jedi onboard the Endar Spire wore, I could not help but feel they appeared resplendent in their serenity.
"Yes, Jedi Shan," I answered quietly. "Everyone has – has been kind."
I looked up to see Jedi Bastila Shan smile benevolently at me. She was beautiful, this famous Jedi, with pale, flawless skin, high cheekbones, and long-lashed dark eyes. Her companion, the one I recognized as Knight Kylah Aramai nodded briskly. A bored look crossed her face, and I felt embarrassed that I had taken time of people so powerful.
"I notice you have downloaded many archaeological journals in the last few days," Jedi Shan continued. "If you have need for more information, do not hesitate to ask me."
I nodded, looking away shyly. A hand upon my shoulder caught my attention, and once more I glanced up into Bastila's aristocratic face. Her expression was poised, peaceful... with the glimmer of some foreign emotion in her dark eyes I could not decipher.
"Do not be afraid to talk to me, Jen Sahara. I promise I will not bite."
I heard a stifled snort from the other Jedi, and flushed.
"Th- thank you, Jedi Shan. I shall."
Her smile blossomed in farewell, and she moved to the doorway of my quarters, Knight Kylah following on her heels. As the two Jedi walked away, I could not help but overhear Kylah's parting comment.
"Honestly, Bastila, she is just a simple scholar," she drawled in a silky voice. "Why you feel the urge to check up on such a quiet little mouse, I do not know."
…
"Of course, I did not know who you were back then, otherwise events may have played out very differently," Kylah's voice dragged me back to the present. "I hope you enjoyed your freedom while it lasted."
"You're the traitor," I said quietly. "You're the reason the Endar Spire was attacked, and that everyone died."
She scoffed disbelievingly. "That's a little hard to take, from you. Can't remember the blood on your hands? Or is it that you don't know who you really are yet?" She loosed a surprised laugh. "Considering how appropriate your garb is, I find that a little hard to believe."
"I know exactly who I am," I bit out through clenched teeth. I just don't know my own name. And I am not her. No two-bit little Jedi traitor was going to get the best of me! "Why'd you defect, Kylah? Getting a bit cold in Bastila's shadow? Did it gall that you had to follow her around, even though you were the Knight and she merely a Padawan?" The taunts rolled off my tongue like honey; the ability to sense weakness and manipulate it... was this Street Kid's gift, or hers?
Kylah stiffened, and I saw rage contort the sickly lines in her face. "Don't you dare judge me, you pathetic worm! You're nothing but the shell of a former time... and your time is up!"
I felt the Force crest within her, and before I had time to blink, the woman had leaped in front of me, lightsaber poised to cleave through my head. A surprised yelp released from my throat as I parried wildly, feeling the force of her blow resonate through my arms. The criss-cross of red burned into my vision as she pushed hard against me, the 'sabers moving infinitesimally closer.
A wave of malice swept through me. The boiling rage tasted so sweet, it would be so easy to just surrender- I won't let her take control, not again!
"You are truly nothing now," Kylah whispered, sneering from beyond our blades. She grunted, straining against me, and I could sense the Force riding through her, enhancing her strength and reflexes. I couldn't keep this up, not without relinquishing my sanity. No, there must be another way!
I yanked hard on the Force as desperate instinct took over. Grunting, I shoved fiercely against her 'saber, then leapt clear backwards, flipping in the air and landing on my feet. I won't get mad, I won't get mad, I won't-
"Oh, very nice," Kylah drawled, striding towards me. "Did dear little Bastila teach you that? Let's see if you can block this!"
Before I could even gauge her intentions, the room was filled with bright sparks of agonized pain. I was flung to the back wall, having just enough sense left to clutch onto my lightsaber desperately, but-
The pain, the hot sparking torment burned through my flesh, my muscles, my head- No! No! I must stop this! I- I won't- I'm sorry, Mal! How- how- Everything morphed into a world of torturous agony and grief.
Get up, you snivelling coward! The pain was receding now, slowly, but surely. Vaguely I was aware of Kylah laughing as my muscles creaked and twitched. Fight back! I should be able to block her!
"Oh my, you are weak!" Kylah crowed. "I cannot believe I was worried about facing you! The pathetic Council really failed with you, did they not? Lord Malak will be most pleased." Her hand was still raised, blue sparks crackling between her long fingers.
I was gasping, harsh pants that rattled in my chest as I glared mutinously at Kylah. She's too strong! No, no she wasn't. That pitiful Sith wannabe is no challenge. I wouldn't let her lick my boots! The dark fury I associated with Revan bloomed in my head, in my very soul. I had just enough will left to obstruct it. I won't give in to her! I won't lose control again!
"Ooh, you want some more?" Kylah mocked, and another jet of lightening spiked from her, engulfing me again with fierce, hot agony. I gritted my teeth, fighting against the harrowing torment, the burning that was burrowing deep into me- a scream issued from my lungs, despite myself. I can't- I can't-
Anger, hot and caustic, grew in my mind, fighting against the tearing pain that threatened to overwhelm everything. I could surrender to the dark hatred pummelling through me, but then, once more, Revan would win.
"My, this is fun," Kylah murmured, in between bouts of lacerating torture. My vision slowly blurred to normality, as I recognized I was crumpled on the ground, wheezing and shaking. My weapon had already rolled out from cramped fingers. I'll die, I realized numbly. I'll die in this very room, if I don't capitulate.
The barbed spikes of electricity seared into me again, and I could hear myself screaming. Flashes of nameless people sparked chaotically through my head, and I thrashed wildly as coherence dissolved. The anger, the roiling black rage, crested through me in a wave, offering a dark and ominous salvation.
My alternative, it seemed, was certain death.
I felt my resistance fray under the never-ending torture. I was poised on a precipice, forced to choose between two options, one that would damn my life, and the other, my soul.
With sinking trepidation, I surrendered to the malevolence that simmered in my mind. The antagonism, the fury, and the vengeance clawed through me, and this time I embraced it. I let the barriers drop against the dark turmoil of emotions that swept aside lucidity and took abrupt command of my senses.
My thoughts twisted cruelly – Kill her! Force her to beg for her pitiful existence, and then end it! – and I snapped my head up, rising to my feet. The lightening scalded my skin, but I cast it aside as just another pained memory.
"What?" Kylah spat, hand dropping in surprise as I took a casual step through her electric storm. The white hot sparks faded from her fingertips as she gaped at me with incredulity.
"Don't count me out just yet, Kylah," I breathed. I raised a hand, and called my weapon home. The Force flared as the 'saber returned to my grasp with a satisfying snap. I took another stride forward, fighting against twitching muscles that were slow to respond – my body would list to my commands - I am the master here! "You have no idea what you have just unleashed."
"You-" She shook her head angrily. "You are a pathetic failure! I am not scared of you!"
"You should be," I murmured, my lips twisting. The Force rode deep within me, amplified by loathing and rage. That she had dared to unleash lightning on me; that I had fallen to my knees in front of that rankweed-sucking cantina rat galled me; and the righteous fury burst out in a flood of energy that lashed through the room.
Kylah stumbled back, once, twice, but held her ground. She's strong. But not strong enough - I will see her crawl before the end! No more pissing about with lightsabers and petty Force powers, I had the ability to assume control over life and death, and I would unleash it here!
The rage exploded inside me, swelling out through me like a thousand piercing daggers, agonizing and yet oddly satisfying. A wail tore from my lungs as my vision darkened to red; a pulsing, crackling black aura sprung to life around me. Rage can be used to increase power tenfold. And I knew that, oh, how I knew that!
"What- no!" she yelled, stepping back involuntarily. "You can't-"
"Oh yes I can!" I snarled, and my free hand flung out, unleashing a wave of poisoned energy that buffeted through the room. I could feel the sweet taste of it as it soaked into her skin, tainting her limbs with decaying corruption. I was supreme here, no one could withstand me!
"You-" she spluttered, stepping further back. Her hood had been pushed off her face, and her cheeks were pale with fear. Sickly yellow eyes widened in panicked realization, and I could taste the horror that began to permeate her mind. "Sith's blood!" she swore, flinging a jet of electricity that blinded my vision and sparked white through the room.
Oh, she thinks that will work again? The Force was mine to control, and it slammed away her torrent of lightning like a cloud of moths, but-
Kylah had gone.
What? That was merely a diversion? That cowardly maggot! Pure, unadulterated anger suffused me and I snarled, reeling in the Force to bolster my speed as I prepared to pursue-
A pained moan – quiet, barely audible – tore through the fog of senseless power and fury that controlled my very senses. The berserking aura fractured and smashed, and the Force departed in a torrent, slipping out from my unwieldy grasp. I gasped as exhaustion and agony hit my senses, the lacerating pain that was etched into muscles weak from Kylah's bombardment.
The fury, the hatred, the sheer contempt for everything, had dissolved and left me shattered.
I was bone tired and felt crippled, utterly spent. I had not the energy to race after that traitorous Sith, and I doubted I could survive the encounter.
Revan. I didn't just let her take over, I handed her the sodding controls! Once more, Evil Bitch had saved me. But at what cost? I'm losing my mind to her! Chilling horror shuddered through me. I'd been determined to hold Revan at bay, yet this time, it had been a conscious decision to yield.
I heard the whimper once more, and allowed it to snatch my attention to a brown-clad body deeper in the room. Bastila's Jedi Master... I took a step closer, dragging wearied limbs, as I felt the dread riding my system mount.
The Jedi Master stirred slightly. There were small horns framing a dark-skinned face. Zabrak, my mind issued helpfully. I stood over her, staring down motionlessly at the Master who could help me or damn me. Or both...
Her eyes opened, a flare of turquoise against a gaunt face, and I was swept away.
…
Nothing.
There was nothing but unworldly rage that inundated me, soaking into my very soul. I knew nothing, and could feel nothing but immense fury.
I welcomed it. Somehow, I knew it was better than the alternative.
"We can begin the implantation shortly. She is so far gone... I am not convinced this is the best course of action."
What was that?
"You made your reservations clear at the meeting, Karon. This is the choice we all agreed upon."
I battled against the thick fog clouding me; somehow, railing at the inevitable felt familiar. Something convulsed and jerked; with an absent sort of reflection I realized it was my body. I gasped, shuddered, and-
"Put her back under! Quick!"
-my eyes peeled open. Vague, out-of-focus images swam hazily in front of me. Someone was leaning over me. Dark skin, small horns protruding from a blurry face.
Karon? No. No!
"Two hypos – that's more than enough."
My vision, my confusion, and then finally my unswerving rage dissolved into nothing.
…
Horror crested within – what exactly was I remembering? Was that when they'd stuck Revan in my head? This so-called Jedi Master had been part of it?
"It was you!" I hissed, my face curling in vicious anger as I glared down at the dying Zabrak. My lightsaber cut a beam of red anger in front of me.
Her chest rattled with shallow breaths; blood drenched her austere robes and formed a sickly puddle underneath her.
"I failed you..." a whisper issued from the Zabrak; I strained to catch it.
"Failed?" My voice rose in disbelief. "You screwed with my mind! Why? Why is she in there?"
"Please..." Her bright turquoise eyes closed, and her arm twitched. A deactivated 'saber rolled meekly from her grasp. "My lightsaber... keep it. Let it guide you."
I stared at her, incredulous and stunned speechless. She thinks her lightsaber is sufficient recompense for tearing apart my mind? I stood still, frozen with confounded disbelief.
Her eyes stayed tightly closed, and her face had drained to a sickly grey. There were things I needed to ask, questions begging to be raised, but I found myself unable to formulate a reply as she lay there, dying in front of me.
I didn't need to wield the Force to feel her life draining away.
"Forgive me," she whispered, exhaling, and did not take another breath.
My limbs were rigid; all I could do was gaze down at the woman who had taken my sanity from me. And I still did not know why.
Forgive me...
The words swelled on the Force as I sensed the life dim from the Zabrak, dim until there was nothing left.
Forgive you? How can I? Because of you, my mind is a minefield! Because of you, I have Revan inside my head!
But I felt empty; the rage ebbed away as I stood, staring silently at the lifeless Zabrak. Karon had known the answers... and I'd been so scared I'd lost the chance to learn from her. And Bastila... where is she?
I heard a scuffle to my right; reflexes I barely acknowledged had me leaping backwards as laser bolts discharged through the room. Pain scored deep into my shoulder.
"Die, Sith schutta!" an angry, male voice bellowed. I faced my next danger – a beaten, bloody Republic officer wielding what looked like a kid's toy in his hands-
"Carth?" I cried in stunned disbelief. A dull throbbing from my shoulder made me wince – it was superficial and shallow, but I'd had more wounds in the last few days than was objectively healthy. "You frelling shot me!"
His jaw dropped in a comic display of shock; if I hadn't been so overwhelmed by everything, I probably would have laughed. "Jen?" he croaked weakly, his arm lowering as he stumbled back against the wall. I noticed he didn't drop his gun, however.
Black lines latticed over his neck, and blood mottled his clothes like patchwork. The idiot hadn't even been wearing armour. Kylah almost killed him, I realized as he continued to stare dumbly at me. He was the one trapped against the wall.
"What- are you with them?" he whispered, his eyes roving over me. "No... you can't be... can you?"
I thought I'd had enough surprises already, but apparently not. "Oh, some thanks I get for saving your life," I snapped, crouching down and pilfering the lightsaber that lay close to the recently departed master. I'd figure out why she wanted me to take it later. "You've called me some nasty names before, Onasi, but one of those core-slime Dark Jedi? Gee, thanks."
His gaze was dubious, almost hesitant, as he looked me over again. As the wariness mounted in his eyes, I had to bite back the scowl determined to etch into my face. At least this was a healthy sort of anger, frustrated irritation at his familiar suspicion – nothing like the storm of fury that drowned me in its wake. That sometimes seemed impossible to control.
He opened his mouth to speak, closed it, sighed, and then tried again. "I suppose there's no point in asking why you're dressed like a Sith, then. Why are you here, Jen?"
How could I answer that? I'd never really explained anything to Carth – stars, I didn't even know what was going on with myself most of the time. And Revan... now that was something I'd never let slip, no matter what. In the end, I answered simply, "I decided it was time to stop running."
He sighed, weariness and exasperation chasing through his features as he slumped back against the wall, eyes closed. The gun dropped from his lifeless fingers. "I really can't believe you, Jen. You blow up our ship – stang, you almost kill us! Disappear off the planet, and then a day later your back!" His voice rose; despite myself, I flinched. At the time, the sabotage on the Ebon Hawk had been sensible, logical – but now, knowing who was in my head- "Barging into the middle of this invasion, and claiming to save my life?" His eyes snapped open, dark and flashing. "Wait- Kylah- where is that bitch?"
"She ran off," I answered curtly.
"She-" He sighed again. "I guess you did save my life, then. I thought that was my end." A bark of laughter issued from him; a desperate, humourless sound. "But you arrived in the nick of time, like usual."
Not for Karon. My eyes slid back to the prone Zabrak, resting on the crumple of beige and dark red.
"Karon?" Carth gasped, following my gaze. "Is- is she dead?"
I nodded slowly. "I felt her die," I murmured through cold lips. "She has... joined the Force, as they say."
Carth's attention had fixed on me once more, mistrustful and cagey. "We need to move from here. Kylah's still out there, along with however many Dark Jedi are still alive. Did you- did you encounter any?"
I nodded briskly, wincing as I rolled my shoulder back. "The Selkath got one of the foyer guards, I killed the other. Some Twi'lek apprentice killed a third." I pushed my senses out; a deliberate, tiring effort now that the battle adrenaline had departed me. The Force felt heavy, almost unnatural in my grasp, and I couldn't feel anything approximating a Force user. "Kylah's done a runner, flyboy. I can't sense any Dark Jedi in the building anymore."
Carth's eyes closed as he breathed in deeply, leaning against the wall. "I hope you're right. I doubt I can survive another encounter anyway."
I attempted a weak smile. "Come on, Onasi, you're not that badly beaten up. Nothing a few whiskeys won't cure, at any rate."
His eyes snapped open as he scowled at me. "Your solution for everything, isn't it, Jen? A few drinks- or, failing that, berserk and go on a rampage."
I flinched inwardly at his bitter tone, but couldn't really blame him - I supposed I deserved that. But there was something more urgent than appeasing Carth, no matter how right he was to be angry at me. "Where's Bastila?" I queried in a low tone.
The scowl dropped as his expression turned serious once more. "Not here, that's all I know. Wann told me she was on a mission somewhere, but wouldn't divulge more. At least she's been safely out of this massacre, though."
Shockwaves of dread slid through me; I could feel beads of sweat popping into existence on my forehead. If she's not here, then where is she? What's happened to her? It wasn't inconceivable that the Sith had led a two-pronged attack. In fact, I couldn't help but think it probable, considering the intangibility of the bond. If I hadn't known about our mind link previously, I wouldn't even have noticed the whisper of her soul in my mind.
"I need to find her," I mumbled. "Who's Wann?"
"You actually want to find Bastila now?" Carth muttered something inaudible under his breath. "Roland Wann's the Commander here. I'll take you to him – we should find out who's still alive." He locked eyes with me again, trailing over my clothes. "Though get rid of that blasted cloak, would you?"
He made to leave, and I hurriedly shucked the robe off and dumped it to the ground. As I followed him silently out of the cursed room, I spared one last glance back at the prone corpse of the Jedi Master.
But there was nothing left bar a pile of blood-smattered brown robes.
xXx
The Republic Commander was an older, chubby man; dark skinned and face etched with worry lines. Black shadows lurked under his eyes, and I had the feeling he'd been less than prepared for today's attack. None too surprising, really, considering the enforced neutrality of Ahto City.
"Carth, thank the stars you're alive," Roland wheezed as we stepped into the command room. A couple of soldiers had waved us in after opening the door, but blasters had stayed ready in their grip. Two of them were looking at me warily. Well, I guess this torn, bloodied armour doesn't exactly make a great first impression, but it's gotta be better than a black cloak. "What happened out there? The last time I spotted a Dark Jedi was ten minutes ago, jumping into that submersible. I didn't dare believe it – are they all dead?"
"Kylah," I muttered angrily. So she did escape. Roland's gaze was drawn to me, immediately suspicious. Must be a common trait of all Republic soldiers. Maybe they learn mistrust at cadet school.
Carth nodded at the Commander. "Nine deaths accounted for. The one you spotted must have been that traitor, Kylah, escaping."
"They're – they're all dead?" a younger man squeaked from further in the room. He looked like a tech; about ten casually clothed workers were huddled against the far wall. "It's over?"
A ragged cheer arose among the small crowd, all of whom appeared exhausted and petrified. One sank to his knees in relief, covering his face with shaky hands. Roland's shoulders dropped as the tension slowly dissipated from his stance. He looked once more at me. "Who's this?"
Carth glanced at me also, dark eyes imploring for my silence. "Jen. She's one of Bastila's crew," he said finally.
Roland frowned. "Hang on – wasn't that the name of the survivor who fled the Ebon Hawk?"
I shrugged uneasily. Carth shot me a disappointed frown, and I dropped my gaze. He must not have told Roland the whole truth, otherwise Wann would be labelling me a fugitive at the least. Roland's gaze moved to the lightsabers hooked on my belt, and a dark scowl wrapped itself on his weathered face. "Another Jedi?" he groused.
Irritation crested over my disquiet, and I shot him a filthy look. "Oh, I'm sorry," I snapped sarcastically, "maybe I should have left you lot to fight the Sith alone!"
Carth sighed noisily as the Commander's fierce look of annoyance intensified. "This attack happened because of you Jedi!" Roland snarled back. "They invaded to get at Bastila or, or Karon! If you Jedi hadn't been here, all my men would still be alive!"
Fierce indignation swept through me as I opened my mouth to retort, but the Commander beat me to it with a hurried, "Karon – where is she? Did you find her, Captain?"
"She, uh," Carth trailed off, shaking his head. "She didn't make it."
My gut clenched at the words. I hadn't wanted to meet Karon, inwardly dreading any confrontation with a Jedi Master. But now I'd more or less obtained my wish, I bitterly regretted it. She knew the answers. Sithspit, she's the one who shoved that schutta in my head! And yet, after witnessing the Zabrak's death, I couldn't help but feel remorse as well as anger. It wasn't my fault! I had nothing to do with the Sith attacking here! But I couldn't stem the tide of recriminations – if I hadn't run from Manaan, what would have happened? Would Karon still be alive? Would Bastila be out of danger?
"Bastila," I gasped suddenly. "Where is she?"
A loud explosion deafened any scathing response the Commander would have made, and rocked the walls around me. I stumbled backward, fumbling instinctively for a weapon as someone screamed in fright. It took a second before I registered that the blast – whatever it was – had occurred some rooms away.
Carth had whipped out his blaster, facing one of the exits intently. The techs were whimpering against the back wall.
"Dammit, Captain! I thought you said those sithspawn were all dead!" Roland cursed, having toppled against a row of consoles.
They are all dead! All, except that traitor Kylah – but she had fled. My muscles clenched in readiness, a painful tension against the exhaustion that lingered in my limbs. The Force skittered away from my clumsy grasp, and I knew a moment of real terror. If this was a second wave of Force users, then I sincerely doubted my chances. My shoulder throbbed from the GenoHaradan attack on Rii'shn, and even now, a hollow ache thrummed in my once-broken arm. In short, I was a wreck.
"Uh, Commander?" a soldier interrupted, eyes fixed on a screen next to Wann. "There's Selkath in the halls."
"Selkath?" Roland queried flatly as he turned to look. Realization struck me – the foyer doors had been locked down after my entrance. If the Selkath were determined to enter and supposedly neutralize the Sith threat, then they'd probably detonated their way in.
Carth's shoulders sagged in relief, even as he holstered his blaster. I stared down at my clenched fingers as the alarm abated. With an absent sort of curiosity I realized the lightsaber I was gripping was Karon's. Huh. I bet it's not red.
"Talk about blasted timing," Roland muttered, his gaze roving over the consoles. From my vantage point, I could spot several camera outputs displayed on the screens he was leaning over. More than half showed naught but static. "They certainly took long enough."
Slurring shouts emanated through the doors, and I recognized the Selkath accent with something approaching dread. I'd run from them earlier, but hopefully without that concealing black cloak they wouldn't recognize me. Neither Roland nor Carth had so far questioned exactly how I'd ventured inside, and I hoped it'd stay that way. A gut instinct warned me that the Selkath were notoriously picky over their tyrannical laws; they wouldn't hesitate to slam me for resisting arrest at the least.
"This is the Ahto City Civil Authority!" a thick voice yelled from outside the room. "Open the door and throw down your weapons immediately!"
"Oh, this is going to be fun," Carth muttered, as I tucked my lightsaber away hurriedly. I heard Roland growl even as the durasteel doors opened to admit a dozen heavily armoured Selkath guards. Oh, frelling fantastic, I thought sourly as the soldiers swarmed into the room and surrounded us. I need a sodding drink.
xXx
The chrome bench was cold underneath me as I stared vacantly into a glass of amber liquid. This room was the closest thing the Embassy had to a bar; a sparse cafeteria nestled within the barracks, ostensibly for the Republic soldiers. Considering the opulence of this place, I doubted if alcohol was meant to be served on the premises, but the shifty-eyed soldier who'd introduced himself as Laconi seemed more than happy to supply me with stronger substances than mere ale.
As the Embassy was currently locked-down by the Selkath while they interrogated Roland Wann and perused what camera feeds weren't destroyed, I had little better place to reside.
I have to get out of here. My body was fiercely demanding rest, even as impatience warred within. Carth had found out earlier just where Bastila had disappeared to – a secret mission to the bottom of the damned ocean, to rescue a bunch of scientists. He'd known little else, other than that Juhani and Canderous had both accompanied her. I was relieved that neither had been caught in the bloodbath here, though I felt surprise at hearing Canderous had voluntarily followed Bastila.
The distance between Bastila and I couldn't explain the obscurity of the bond. I could swear that she was critically injured or ill, and probably unconscious. I hesitated to mention any of this to Carth, however. Last time I'd talked of our bond, he'd been derisively disbelieving. I'd no idea what Bastila had said of our attachment during my absence, and frankly, I didn't want to push my luck as far as Carth was concerned.
I need to find Bastila. Sun and stars, how long are the Selkath gonna keep us here? It'd been hours since they'd swarmed into Roland's command room, quickly taking control over the whole Embassy. The red-faced Commander had been pretty unhappy about that, even more so when he'd heard the explosion had been a permacrete detonator that had torn through most of the entrance foyer to grant the Selkath access. The Selkath themselves had assumed command and swiftly blockaded the facility, and while I'd disliked obeying the pedantic bastards, I couldn't stem the amusement that swelled over surveying the blustering Commander's indignation.
But my thoughts turned once more, inevitably, to my bond sister. The idea of hunting down a submersible and traipsing after her had already occurred to me, although slipping out from underneath the Selkath's lockdown wouldn't be easy. I could always ask HK. With a jolt, I realized I had no idea where that bloodthirsty droid had disappeared to. Kath crap, I thought with alarm. If he decides to barge in here, the Selkath will likely fire on him. HK had occasionally shown subtlety, but it almost seemed to go against his programming.
"Jen," a low voice sparked through my ruminations. I glanced up to see Carth hovering nearby – he'd been called away a few hours ago by Roland Wann. Black shadows smudged the skin under his eyes, and he was still wearing ripped, bloodied clothes. He looks like how I feel. His eyes flicked disparagingly over the stale beer cradled in my palms. I felt an easing of my shoulders, and realized that - despite his completely justified anger at me - his presence was a welcome one.
"They finally let you out?" I smirked as he took a step closer. He rolled his eyes at me, and eased himself onto the long bench.
"Anyone would think that we attacked the Sith, rather than the other way around," he muttered. His gaze roved over the soldier-cum-bartender, and an annoyed scowl appeared on his lined face. I wondered absently what he had against Laconi. The twitchy soldier seemed relatively harmless to me.
"The Selkath are pretty pedantic over their non-violence laws," I commented, and then immediately wished I hadn't as Carth turned to glare fiercely at me.
"Yes," he ground out. "So we found out, after you crashed the ship and the Sith tried to tow us." Angry disappointment coloured his tone, and I looked away, staring deeply into the ale I was nursing. I could feel something akin to shame burning in my cheeks.
"Look," he sighed heavily next to me. "I-I can't forget what you did. You're a loose cannon, Jen, and you damn near killed us. But believe it or not, I didn't come here to argue."
I could feel my jaw clenching, as the uncomfortable sensation of bitter anger mingled with contrition. On one hand, he was right, but then again I had just saved his sorry arse. I wondered if he even remembered that.
"So why did you come here?" I bit out, after a heavy pause.
"We've heard from the others."
My head snapped up, startled, as I turned to face him once more. "Where are they? What's going on?"
"It's a big mess," Carth muttered, shaking his head. "The Selkath have intercepted a delayed distress signal from the Republic Station. From what Roland told me, the message was brief. A couple of scientists and three Republic soldiers are alive down there – no names, however. They've requested immediate aid and life-support. One of the survivors is gravely wounded."
Bastila. A shred of hope wound through me. If the Selkath were on their way, then it wouldn't be too long until I could force some answers out of her. She had to tell me the truth, now that I knew just what evil lurked so insidiously inside my own cursed head.
Carth slumped back, sighing. "Apparently, the Selkath have also picked up on some sort of explosion down there. I don't know what's been going on, but it's turned into a colossal predicament for the Republic."
I frowned at him in query. His mouth twisted as he went on to elaborate. "The Republic base is a secret kolto mining facility. I'm sure I don't have to spell out the ramifications of that becoming public."
I could feel my eyes widen. "A secret kolto base?" I gasped. "Kath crap, what did the Republic think they were doing? The Selkath won't bloody stand for that, they're so fiercely proud of their blasted neutrality and their independent kolto trade that they'll stop selling any to the Republic after this! Stars, what did the Republic think would happen?"
Carth was eyeing me over appraisingly. "You seem to have a good idea of Manaan politics," he murmured in a low tone. I could feel my stomach lurch, and ran through quickly what I'd just said. I shrugged. It seemed like common sense to me. "Regardless," he continued. "Some members of the Selkath government knew about this base previously. Stang, they more or less sanctioned it and kept it hidden from the rest of the bureaucrats."
I snorted, shaking my head as I picked up the glass of beer and took a swig. Sounded like the Selkath government was about to embroil itself in an ugly civil war. With the Republic right in the middle of it.
"You know, in a way it's a good thing for the Republic that the Sith attacked here when they did," I murmured. A brief surge of outrage flitted over Carth's face before shrewd introspection took its place.
"You mean, they might close down both Embassies rather than just ours?" he muttered.
I tilted my head. "Well, the Republic's really screwed themselves over with this revelation, but coming at the same time as an unprovoked attack on them by the Sith Empire..." I trailed off, shrugging. "Probably will make them look a little better, yeah."
We lapsed into silence after that, each lost in our own thoughts. I'd emptied my glass, and was considering another as thoughts of Bastila and Revan returned to plague me. I knew little of the former Sith Lord, other than that she had once been a Jedi, and had led the Republic to victory in the Mandalorian Wars before turning. But then again, I thought sourly, it's not like I know a drukload about myself, either. My homeworld was Talshion, and I lived on the streets before becoming a Jedi. From the brief shards of memory that had drifted to my consciousness, I knew that I'd also been in the Mandalorian Wars. Did I follow Revan and Malak? I felt a slight tremor trickle through me. No. I'd never follow that Sith bitch. I wouldn't. Bastila had once told me I'd fallen to the Dark Side. I'd been more inclined to believe it back then, when I hadn't been sure which personality was really me. No. She was saying that to justify Revan's thoughts in my head. I don't know how I fit in – or how Jen Sahara does – but there's no way I went Dark Side. No way at all.
Carth shifted uncomfortably near me, his eyes sliding to glance at me surreptitiously. I had the distinct feeling he wanted to broach a topic, but wasn't sure how to start. I tried unsuccessfully to hold back a smirk.
"Yes?" I raised my eyebrows. "You want to say something?"
"I, uh, yeah," he stuttered. "Uh, am I that obvious?"
I snorted. "If you were any more obvious, your eyes would fall out of your head."
Said eyes narrowed. "I'm not that bad, am I? No, look, don't answer that," he sighed. "Seriously, I wanted to ask you something. You told me once that you didn't really remember your past," he said, his expression intent and fixed on me.
"Did I?" I looked away, shoulders tensing. I wanted to make peace with Carth, but this really wasn't the sort of conversation I was interested in.
"Yes. On Tatooine, before Calo Nord attacked us." His voice was short, almost suspicious, and the sheer familiarity of that ripped a laugh from me.
"Is that a crime these days?" I smirked, looking back at him.
He scowled. "No- look, I'm serious here!"
"Okay, okay, keep your flight jacket on." I paused. "Where is that hideous thing anyway?"
"Mission took off with it- stop trying to change the subject!"
I fiddled with the flask of ale, eyes downcast as I struggled to contain myself. "Alright, what do you want to know?"
"What do you remember from Deralia?"
My eyes flew to his in surprise, but Carth's countenance gave nothing away. I stayed silent for a full minute, searching his expression. His face was familiar, now, after weeks of working together. I usually found it easier to read him. Why does he want to know that? What interest would Jen's past have for him? "I've told you about my background before, Onasi. I grew up in a quiet settlement. When I was old enough, I studied at the Academia." I shrugged uncomfortably. "Nothing exciting about my past, I'm afraid." Well, nothing about Jen's.
His gaze held mine. "Were you there when Darth Revan's forces invaded a year ago?"
I froze; ice slid down my spine. "What?" I hissed. Deralia was attacked? By- by Revan? Disbelief curled through my veins, I didn't want to think about the implications of that. I was shaking my head wildly without realizing. "No, no, I don't want to talk about that."
Something akin to sympathy lurked in his face; I'd be damned if I'd allow him to pity me.
"Jen-"
"No! I wasn't there, alright?" I demanded angrily. Was I, though? Was Jen on Deralia when Revan invaded? Is that how she's caught up in all of this? With mounting horror, flashes of recollection caught up to me. Back on Rii'shn– facing off the GenoHaradan– Revan had cursed the traitorous Sith and Deralian troops alike-
No! Bastila faced Revan, on Revan's flagship! That wasn't on Deralia!
"I'm sorry," Carth said abruptly. "Look, I shouldn't have brought it up. Let's- let's talk about something else, okay?"
My jaw was clenched tight, and I could feel my hands shaking. "This conversation is over," I muttered, standing up. Did Jen meet Revan? Horror soared within; I didn't want imagine an encounter between the timid introvert and the insane Sith bitch. Not when they were both resident inside my own head.
I didn't register Carth calling after me as I walked blindly out of the makeshift bar; my thoughts were too chaotically wild to listen to him. As the days had passed, I learnt flashes more about Revan, and about Jen, but my own history remained a shrouded conundrum, taunting me with what I didn't know.
If Revan and Jen met on Deralia, I thought numbly, then what about me? Dammit, why are they in my head? How do I fit into this? If the Republic didn't get Bastila back here soon, I swore I'd go find her myself. This has dragged on long enough. I need to get my head straight, and she's going to give me some long overdue answers.
This time, half-lies and part-truths wouldn't appease me.
xXx
