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- Revan Freeflight -
My dreams had been uneasy of late, more so than usual. Full of phantoms, murmuring evocations of power, betrayal, death...
I remembered nothing tangible when I woke- nothing more than shadows. It could have been the bond, could have been emotions leeching through from Bastila; stars knew that Force shields only held so well in slumber. Our last interaction had shown that Bastila's principles, along with the fragility of her soul, had devolved into a mirror of my own.
I could predict the guilt she would be wallowing in now. And the self-flagellation she would inflict upon herself for the visceral pleasure she had enjoyed at Kylah's downfall.
Bastila, when it came to her own standards, was a woman of extremes. She would either crucify herself for what she had felt on the doomed heavy cruiser, or worse-
Embrace it.
I worried she was reaching a point of capitulation- or abandonment. I worried that her fault-lines, her pressure points, were widening.
I knew Malak would be a fool not to capitalize.
He could drive into Bastila's mind – maybe he did not have her finesse with the Force, but certainly his power eclipsed hers – and he would undoubtedly see something of how we had succumbed to the Dark Side.
For we had welcomed it, allowed it to overwhelm us with its majesty of power and morass of seething emotions, and surrendered to its unyielding tide.
Everyone stumbled, at times. But Bastila and Malak would both know that the Leviathan had been more than a stumble.
I could still feel it. Taste it, in the back of my throat. The unholy Force that had run through us.
It had been unchecked, staggering and magnificent in its breadth. I knew where that path led. Whatever remained of my life, I would always be facing both the ramifications and the insidious desire to traverse it once more.
Or maybe… maybe Bastila had nothing to do with my broken sleep. Maybe it was no more than the weight of my own past suffocating me.
We had little more than a Galactic day's cycle before our final journey would end. I tried to turn my thoughts away from Bastila, and towards the Star Forge that awaited us; but my problem was I had little idea what to expect. If we weren't so overwhelmingly desperate, it wouldn't be us leading the vanguard, racing to arrive before the Fleet, rushing recklessly into the unknown.
I was fine with risking myself; stars, the morbid side of me thought a fitting end for my doomed life would be in the fight against Malak. Provided I nullified him and destroyed the Star Forge, the mission would be a success – and my own survival mattered little.
But we had to get there first and, despite Carth's wish for my memories to remain behind the veil of amnesia, I yearned for something to break free- anything to aid us in what was to come.
Would it really be so easy to fly over and dock at the Star Forge? Face Malak, rescue Bastila, and be done with all of it?
One way or another the Force had seemingly led me this far, and my only option now was to have faith it would stay with me.
Faith in the Force. Now I sound like frelling Juhani.
She'd put me through my paces a fair few times in the preceding days. I'd needed the practice, wielding just the one 'saber, and Juhani was a formidable warrior in her own right.
But not my equal. Even focusing on pure duelling with an unfamiliar form, it had become easy to best her. I need to pin down Yudan. I knew this. I had an expert duellist onboard this very ship, sworn to fight by my side- and yet I quailed.
Canderous had wanted to dump him off at Yavin Station. Mission had pointed out that he was still, obviously, a Dark Jedi. Carth didn't need to voice his opinion to me; it was patently clear.
Dammit. I made the choice to trust Yudan's word. So it's time to stop beating about the cacta bush and make use of his talents.
I could sense him in the garage, him and Juhani; and as I reached out further with the Force I could feel around the edges of their emotions. I wasn't adept at interpreting them, but Juhani's presence had a sort of fierce conviction, as if she were resolved to do something-
The hatch behind me opened, and I sensed the affable presence of Jolee Bindo walk towards me as I stood still in the centre of the abandoned common room.
"What are you up to, young pup?" he asked in curiosity, and I wondered if my use of the Force had drawn him closer. He snorted as his gaze dropped to the table, which was covered in a mess of haphazard pazaak cards. "Kids," he muttered. "Always leaving a mess behind. Some things never change, no matter the century."
A spike of something like anger resonated on the Force, before being drawn tightly into the ominous presence that was Yudan Rosh.
Sun and stars, what's going on? I wouldn't find out here. With a grimace, I began striding towards the garage.
"Ach, leave them to it," Jolee advised. "Not everything's about you, you know."
I threw Jolee an irritated look, before pressing my hand on the hatch control.
"…to the Light?" Juhani was saying as I entered. Her tawny gaze flickered over to mine briefly before settling back on Yudan. Both of them grasped deactivated lightsabers, and my attention was immediately drawn to the hilt held loosely between Yudan's fingers.
No, I can't let things turn bad here, I can't-
"Really," Yudan drawled. He sounded derisive; mocking, even. He didn't turn to acknowledge me, merely remained standing, staring impassively at the Cathar.
"You cannot expect me to believe that the Dark Side has brought you peace," Juhani returned simply. There was an intent, righteous expression on her face, and suddenly I knew exactly what she was doing. What Juhani was always drawn to do. Kath crap, Juhani, do you really think you can redeem Yudan Rosh?
I saw Yudan's fist clench slightly around the 'saber hilt, and the misgivings in my gut grew.
I sucked in a breath. "Is this really-"
"And what do you know of the Dark Side?" Yudan mocked. He still, completely, ignored me. "Enlighten me, youngling. Go on."
Juhani's lips pursed. "I have had my own dalliance with it, minor as it may have been in comparison to yours. I understand the despair, the lack of choice one feels-"
Juhani cut herself off as the Force swelled within Yudan's grasp; her eyes widened and she stumbled back. Alarm shot through me, and everything tensed. The apprehension grew, and my hand shot to Karon's 'saber in reaction.
"You struck down your Master," Yudan said softly, his eyes burning as he stared the Cathar down. I could feel faint coils of psychic energy reaching out from beneath his command, and the Force surrounding me roused in response; an influx of power ready to unleash at a second's notice. "You think a failed Knight Trial gives you experience of the Dark Side? Oh- and you didn't even succeed in killing her?"
Hot anger bloomed on Juhani's face, throwing the angular planes of her striped cheeks into stark relief. "Stay out of my head!" she hissed, slanted eyes flashing. "There is no call for that sort of trespass!"
Yudan laughed, and there was an audible nastiness in it as it rang throughout the garage. "Quit preaching then, Cathar. Your words are meaningless and beneath me."
"Yudan, stop being an ass," I snapped.
He turned, finally; his impassive gaze landing on me.
Damn, but he was a hard one to read. Sometimes, an intense flash of something would spark through the flawed yellow of his eyes, and I'd be struck with the uneasy feeling that he was reconsidering our shaky alliance.
"I see I am wasting my time," Juhani decried, her face set with dislike as she stalked past us both to exit the room. I was left glowering at Yudan, wariness tightening my stomach as I was suddenly hit by just how much I didn't know regarding the Dark Jedi I'd invited onto our ship.
And Canderous' words shot through my mind: Yudan Rosh followed you once before, Revan; and then he followed Malak.
Malak, who'd turned on me so infamously with some of my own followers above Jen's homeworld-
"Deralia," I hissed, the word twisting on my tongue like poison. "Were you part of it?"
"The betrayal?" Yudan didn't pretend to misunderstand, at least; but he didn't look the slightest bit concerned, either. "What is wrong, Revan?" he drawled, raising an eyebrow. And the urge to punch him in his smug face, to make him exhibit some emotion other than disdain or mockery or that damned indifference, grew hot with urgency. "Are you having second thoughts about me?"
"Yes, dammit!" I growled. "Everyone I know, everyone I care for is onboard this ship-" except Bastila- "-and you've shown no compunction about-" I bit off the rest, and breathed in deeply. Tried to settle myself, tried to let the emotions calm down. Stars knew I had little justification to be angry at him, with all I'd done. "I need to know, Yudan. Were you part of it?"
Yudan's expression turned hard; a frozen breath on the Force. My gaze slipped, once more, to the deactivated lightsaber he held so casually, and the idea of standing against him yet again turned my stomach-
"I was not near Deralia. I did not know of it." His words were formal and icily issued.
He wasn't part of it. Hot, welcome relief seared through me. Well, I may have let a Dark Jedi in amongst the crew, but at least it's not a traitorous Dark Jedi. Did that make any difference, really?
"And if you had known?" I asked in a low voice.
"You don't have the right to ask that," Yudan bit out. His eyes narrowed to slits of iced topaz. "I will not dally in what-ifs with you, Revan. You made a choice, now either live with it or challenge me."
I jerked backwards, stung. I didn't want to fight the bastard-
"I told you I'd fight by your side," Yudan sneered at me. His attention had dropped to my hand, now curled tight around Karon's 'saber. Anger sprang to life on his face, shattering the cold aloofness he had been sporting. His brows lowered, and the corners of his mouth turned down in disgust. "You, of all people, dare to doubt my word? You are a hypocrite, Revan. The galaxy's biggest hypocrite. And I am a fool for ever following you."
With a muttered oath, Yudan hurled the hilt in his grasp across the opposite end of the room, where it landed in an open storage canister. Whirling on his feet, he stalked out of the garage.
I stared at the storage box, blinking, as comprehension surged through me with a sick jolt. He'd been grasping a training lightsaber, one of the ones I'd pilfered from Korriban. Stars, he and Juhani might've been sparring, before I stepped in and made it all worse-
Sithspit.
I wasn't just a hypocrite; I was a sodding imbecile. My fear of Yudan's potential betrayal had completely blinded me to the fact that he couldn't be armed; his lightsaber had been left behind on the frelling Leviathan. Even if Jolee had pocketed it on the way out, there was no way the old man would have left it with Yudan. While Jolee might like to jerryjig along on the edge of senility, it was naught more than an act- the hermit from Kashyyyk would not have left a powerful weapon in the hands of a powerful Dark Jedi.
My tumultuous thoughts turned to Juhani, and how she'd tried to reach Kel, Dak- even emotive Mekel ten seconds after that insane Jorak had sucked the life out of him. Juhani was a noble soul and meant well, but her platitudes could come across as pious to those who considered her a stranger, and hardly a relatable one at that.
Double sithspit, I cursed myself again. Really, what would Yudan have done had I taken Jolee's advice and stayed out of it? Been a ronto's arse until she left him alone. And that's probably it.
I damned myself for my interference, and could only hope it hadn't kicked our fragile alliance back ten steps.
"That went well," Jolee commented. At some stage, he must have followed me in. "Think maybe next time you should keep your nose out of it, huh?"
I blinked, before shooting him a glare.
Jolee chuckled. "It wasn't your business, Revan. They weren't threatening each other; they weren't fighting. No one on this ship knows how to take Yudan Rosh, and you should let him sort that out himself."
"Yeah," I sighed, suddenly defeated. "I see that. Now I wish I'd listened to you."
"Humph," he muttered, eyeing me over with a frown. "Well, at least you're self-aware. I'll give you that much."
"At times," I said, staring over to the entrance that led back to the common room. I felt dispirited, almost melancholy, and beset with a longing to drown my sorrows. Caffa will have to do. Let's not add to my stupidity by indulging in alcohol.
I strode back to the central hatch control, pausing as my hand hovered over the release button. "And at other times," I added, "I think I'm just stumbling through the dark."
"Hah!" the old man crowed as the door swished open in front of me. "That's the truth for us all, young pup. You think you're any different, just because the Force swirls around you?"
"No," I groused, walking through to the common room as he followed in my wake. Again.
Mission had appeared in the intervening time, and was busy sorting out the colourful cards strewn over the table. She shot me a smile of welcome.
"That wasn't what I meant, anyway," I continued, throwing the words back over my shoulder to Jolee. "Just… how many mistakes do I make because I don't remember what I've learned before?" I sighed, taking a seat next to Mission. "How can my lack of recollection be anything but hampering? How am I supposed to stay on the right path, when I don't remember why I fell in the first place?"
Mission frowned, looking as if she were about to interject but Jolee beat her to it. "Hmm. Jedi like to talk about destiny, you know," he said, meandering over to the caffa machine before shooting it an irascible glare. "And they like to harp on about the chances of falling to the Dark Side, as if it were preordained and the likes of you or me don't have anything to say in the matter." He jabbed a finger at the percolator, and grunted in approval as it began to whir.
"Chances…" I muttered, running a hand through my unruly mop. "Are some sents more likely to fall?"
Jolee shrugged as he slipped a cracked mug into the tray at the bottom of the machine. "Certainly there are risk factors. Those trained late in life, or already attached-"
"I was-" My breath hitched. He could be describing me, I realized. "I- we were already involved before the Jedi found us. I recall that much. And… we weren't young." I frowned. "Somehow, I don't believe the Sith are so concerned about age. Or attachment."
Jolee chucked. "Aye, well, that don't surprise me much. The ethos of the Jedi Order was not always so strict, you know. Centuries ago they did not pull apart families. A generation or two back and the rules regarding age were more flexible. But before I left, they frowned on admitting anyone who had lived more than ten cycles of the Coruscanti sun."
"Ten," I said blankly. "Ten? But I was… Malak was… sixteen, maybe? How- how did that work?"
Jolee slid a full cup of steaming brew over the plasticeel table to me, before turning back to make himself one. It struck me then, suddenly, how everyone on the damn ship seemed to quietly understand my needs and act upon them without comment.
I was blessed, I realized; surrounded by those who cared for me even when they shouldn't.
"Well, it was after my time, but even in the depths of Kashyyyk I occasionally caught the galactic news, you know. Usually just before destroying the comm arrays I stumbled over, but heh, that's another story." Jolee waggled his eyebrows in his customary cryptic fashion, before grabbing his own cup of caffa and taking a seat. "Your admittance to the ranks of the Jedi caused a stir even I heard of. Sure, there's always exceptions to rules, even within the rigidity of the Order – but you two were uncommon, even for an exception."
"So old," I murmured, glancing down at the grubby table-top. "Old, and already attached." I couldn't stop the bitter laugh as it fell from my lips. "You spoke of destiny, old man. Is that what you think? That Malak and I were destined to fall?"
There was something sharp lodged in my chest. If the odds were on me stumbling back then, then what about now? Jolee Bindo was no Jedi Master, but I was beginning to value his counsel, and part of me dreaded his next words.
He didn't answer at first, and the silence turned thick with premonition. Slowly, I raised my gaze to meet his.
Jolee snorted; a loud and inelegant sound. "Did you know that Force-sensitive Rodians are more likely to fall to the Dark Side?"
"What?" I blinked, completely blindsided. Next to me, Mission guffawed with disbelief.
"Oh yes," Jolee murmured from across the table. "By quite some margin. There was a time when the High Council even considered banning all Rodians from entering the Order, due to the fear that they were merely training acolytes who would one day swear allegiance to the Dark Side."
It sounded like the warped reasoning of bigots. On one hand, I had the feeling I may have labelled the High Council such, once upon a time. And yet the idea struck me as far-fetched, even for them. How could one sweep such generalizations over an entire species? Surely there was a Rodian or two on the Council. Surely no Jedi Master worth his robes would stand for that sort of blind xenophobia, no matter how wrapped up in good intentions it may be.
"Are you messing with me, old man?" I asked suspiciously.
Jolee threw back his head and laughed. "Good to see you're not easy to fool. But I do have a story for you, and this one's actually true."
I folded my arms and shot him a wary look. He was still chortling with mirth. "You promised, young pup. When you scampered away from me in the Shadowlands, you promised to listen to my next tale."
"I believe I said for one minute," I muttered.
"Bah, we're in hyperspace. What else are you going to do, besides skulk around and avoid our pilot?"
I scowled at him, as fingers of guilt clenched tight around my heart. Jolee stared straight back at me, uncompromising and resolute. He was damn annoying- but maybe his persistence was what I needed.
"Fine. Spin your tale, old man," I said, the snark evident in my voice. "Reveal to me the depths of your wisdom."
"Oh ho! No, young pup, wisdom is learned. Make what you will of my story." He cleared his throat. "Right. Now, where was I?"
I stared at him in silence. There was a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth that made me wonder how much of the doddering old man act was just that – an act. It was at least most, if not the entirety, I swore it.
"Okay, okay, I'll get to the point before your impatience explodes," he grumbled, but his eyes were twinkling. "This is a story of two sisters, close in both age and friendship. Fully grown; younger than you are now, but years older than when you were discovered on that Outer Rim planet of yours."
He coughed, thumping on his rattling chest. Not for the first time, I wondered at just how healthy he was. "The eldest married a Jedi Knight, as it happens; perhaps the last marriage the Order didn't outright forbid, even if enough disapproving eyes were cast their way. Well, the husband died young, and the spark of the Force awoke in his widow. Bright and unexpected. Normally the Order wouldn't allow training at such an advanced age; but, eh. Things were messy, what with Kun running around like a mad rancor. More than that, though- she'd attracted the eye of a Master who was used to thwarting the will of the High Council." He turned a beady eye on me. "She's long gone now, but a powerful Jedi of the Light she became. Many would argue she out-stripped her husband."
He trailed off into silence, a thoughtful look in his dark eyes. There was a ring of truth to his words, and I wondered if he'd known the woman personally.
"And the younger sister?" I prompted.
"Oh! Well she, too, had her own adventures. Maybe a year after her brother-in-law's death, she encountered a Jedi Padawan. A rather flamboyant fellow, more interested in skirmishes around the Ukatis system than actually furthering his own training. Their courtship is another tale, but suffice to say that her new paramour discovered the Force sang brightly in her, just like her elder sister."
Jolee skidded off into silence once more, staring into space.
"So, what happened?" Mission demanded. "Did she get training too?"
Jolee harrumphed, his gaze roving over Mission before snapping back to me. "Not exactly. She didn't have the backing of a Master but, instead, a rogue Padawan who was seen as less-than-reliable. Still, he knew enough to understand she needed mentoring beyond his abilities. So he took her case to the High Council." Jolee shrugged, as if unconcerned, but there was a very real bitterness clouding his eyes. "They refused. Too old, they said. Too risky she would take the wrong path. Too much in love with one who spent his life involved in non-Jedi matters, despite the brown of his robes." He sighed. "So, the foolish young man did the only thing he could think of: he trained her himself."
He was still staring at me, face sagging with the heaviness of age. I felt the shiver of certainty, then, that the young man had been him.
"The power of Exar Kun grew," Jolee said softly. "And his teachings and promises of strength were beguiling, particularly to those still struggling with the ways of the Force. The woman became convinced that his path was the one to follow, and tried to persuade her new husband. They disagreed. They fought. She lost, but the man could not bring himself to cut her down."
He sighed, a hollow sound that echoed. "So, she left and followed Kun, and killed many under his lead. The Order used her name as a warning, as to what happens to those trained late in their life- all the while conveniently ignoring the very example of her older sister who became one of the greatest heroes in the fight against Kun."
"It was you," I murmured. "You were married."
"Do you know of another way to get a wife?" Jolee raised an eyebrow at me, a bushy white line of hair that contrasted with the leathery darkness of his skin. His eyes were once more twinkling with mirth, but there was an underlying seriousness in their depths. "Odds are just that, Revan. You've played them all your life, and you've beaten them many a time. You start blaming your age for your fall, or waffling on about inevitability, and all you're really doing is shirking responsibility." He shrugged, pausing to take a sip of his caffa. "That doesn't strike me as the sort of thing you'd normally do."
No. It wasn't. But while I might scoff at the Jedi Order, they wouldn't implement rules with no rationale. No matter how misguided they were, the Jedi would have justification, of a sort, regarding their reasoning behind age.
Had it upset me in the past? Being such a striking exception, having the odds stacked against me, wondering if some people were just waiting for me to fall? Us. For us to fall. But, surely, Malak and I weren't the only ones admitted past the customary cut-off?
One only had to hark back one generation further to see the exception of Jolee's wife and her sister, to know that I hadn't been that unusual- at least in age.
It's the legacy from Exar Kun, my mind whispered. The Order grew cautious. The Order grew afraid. It was the same reason, I speculated, for their reluctance to join the Mandalorian Wars – even when the Republic all but begged for their aid.
It was fear of the Dark Side once more rotting their ranks. So they held back. And, instead, I happened.
The fallout from Exar Kun had blinded them to what should be a universal truth, particularly for Jedi: fear should not be allowed to influence one's decisions, whether it culminated in action or inaction.
Jolee still had a vaguely unimpressed look on his face, and I couldn't help but imagine the conversations he would've had with the Jedi Masters, once upon a time. He'd add a unique perspective if he ever decided to return to the Order.
Well. That was a conversation I wasn't going to touch. I'd leave that sort of thing to Juhani.
I felt a nudge from the side and turned to see Mission, smiling tremulously at me. "It'll be okay, Jen. You'll see."
I smiled back, feeling my expression soften. Mission's faith, at times, seemed almost unconditional. And when I thought of the others who followed me, here onboard this very freighter; others whose loyalty and affection I had somehow acquired along the way...
I'd had this before. The few memories were visceral and intense, and the remembered emotion burned.
I'd had this before, and damned it to the Dark Side.
No… A negative, a disagreement, somewhere from an ancient crease in my mind. Not damned… I sacrificed it.
I blinked, my thoughts inverting in on themselves, my consciousness scrabbling desperately to follow that loose thread of thought. Sacrificed? For… for what? For a purpose?
Purpose… there'd been that thought earlier, like there was something just beneath the veil of forgotten memory, some reason… a calculated gamble that, for once, didn't pay off-
Something beyond the Mandalorian Wars, beyond the invasion of the Republic, beyond everything I knew so far regarding my infamous life...
But the train of thought eluded me, a neuron sparking away on a switchboard until it died out from existence.
Jolee said I played the odds and beat them often. But what if, when it really counted, I lost?
What if I'd had a reason to step into the Dark, even understanding the risks, but hoping my drive and strength could see it through before everything collapsed in the worst possible way?
Arrogance. Overconfidence. Recklessness. No one can control the Dark Side. Not even me.
I shivered. But, really, how was my fall different than any other? Some Force-users turned due to emotion, some tempted by a lust for power… stars, Bastila had had a moment where she thought we could control it, back in our zenith of madness- that we could leash the Force and own it, all we needed was a little more strength-
Mission nudged me again, shattering my contemplation like a thousand shards of ferracrystal.
"We're all family here, y'know?" she murmured, her eyes shining. "You go take out Darth Poodoo, and we'll have your back."
The words completely broke my internal reverie, and I couldn't hold back a snicker. With a wrench of mental fortitude, I let the turbulent contemplation go, and it faded into a stream of nothingness as I grinned warmly back at my young friend.
xXx
"We'll exit on the far side of the unknown planet," Carth said, staring blankly through the cockpit window. His voice was terse; impersonal. It wasn't long until hyperspace exit, and here we were, making a mockery of playing at pilot and co-pilot. "Out of sight from the Star Forge."
I cleared my throat. "So if things are too hot, our back-out plan is to retreat into hyperspace? Back to Yavin?"
"Yes. We don't have a closer set of safe coordinates, not here in the Unknown Regions."
We dwindled into silence. It was the first time we'd been alone since that interrupted conversation back on Yavin Station. I had… nothing to say to him, really. Nothing I could say.
Sorry? Sorry for everything? For your wife, your planet, your Republic?
It was ridiculous. And all I wanted, really, was to rest my head against his chest and forget it all.
"Have you comm'd the brass?" I questioned in a low voice. Real-time communication through hyperspace was unreliable; but I'd expected him to have sent a delayed message, at the least.
"Yes."
I shot him a look; he hadn't shaved for days, and was now sporting a permacrete stubble that rather suited him. A muscle twitched in his jaw as he continued facing away, not elaborating on his answer one iota.
Not that I could blame him.
I'd left most of the others back in the common room. Mission had, somewhat sulkily, changed back into Calo Nord's old exoskeleton at Zaalbar's insistence, before belting herself into one of the plimfoam benches. Dustil was at her side, shooting me a wary look as I walked past in the direction of the cockpit.
Part of me had expected him to follow, visible or otherwise. Part of me would've been glad for the additional company to break up the tension that sat so thick in the air.
"Will you, uh, contact Bastila?" Carth asked. He sounded awkward. He sounded like his son.
"Only if I have to," I muttered. "She's- she's not doing so well."
"Oh."
The tone of his voice made me think he wanted more: more detail, more information on our crew-mate and what she was dealing with. But I couldn't- I'd answer him if he asked directly, but I didn't want to. There was a dark gnawing at my soul whenever I thought on her; I knew what was happening – not just whatever unpleasantness she was enduring, but the breaking of her spirit – and the thought of my role in that broke something inside of me, too.
I only had to look at Yudan to be reminded of what happened to those close to me. The Dark Side. To think of it encompassing Bastila Shan….
"Who's on the turrets with Ordo?" Carth asked. He leamed forward, as if he meant to turn on the comm and find out for himself.
"Yudan." I hadn't spoken with him since our altercation earlier, but I'd heard Canderous more or less order him into the turret room. To my surprise, Yudan had acquiesced without comment.
Yudan told me he respected Canderous, back on the Leviathan. And Jolee is right. It's none of my business. For better or worse, Yudan was part of our crew, now. I had to step aside and let the others judge him on their own terms.
Carth was still staring away from me, but I caught his eyes narrowing. A certain frigidity crisped the air. "You trust him?" he bit out.
Yes. No. Sun and stars, I don't have a frelling clue. "Not sure I can pass judgement."
I doubted that answer would appease Carth, but it silenced him nonetheless. And I, once more, cursed the awkwardness that sat between us. I found I'd rather have him raging at me, cursing me to the Outer Rim and back rather than this damned, damned awkwardness.
I stared down at my fingers, clenched tight into uncomfortable fists, the skin pulling taut against my maimed off-hand. I suddenly felt flushed; black spots speckled the edges of my vision before driving inward, and I wondered fruitlessly if I'd ever been forced into such a clumsy conversation with a lover before.
It was only when the vertigo punched me in the stomach that I recognized the all-too-familiar encroachment of tunnel vision.
…
The silence between the two of us was thick with awkwardness.
This is ridiculous, I seethed internally, glaring at Mal as he lifted a spoonful of synthetized mush that posed as breakfast into his mouth. He deliberately did not look my way.
Like he had nothing to say to me. Like we were nothing to each other.
And as I sat across from him in the Temple mess, feeling ungainly and irritated and hurt, the sharp thought suddenly sparked through my mind: Sod this.
My chair scraped loudly against the ferracrete flooring; a discordant sound breaking through the gentle silence of Padawans eating and greeting and harmonizing with the galaxy or some rot. I stood, the brown robes that still smelled new chafing against my shoulder blades as I did so.
We'd always been a team, Mal and I. We'd always had each other's backs. And now that our lives were better, safer, greater- he'd decided it was time to stop trusting me. I still missed Staria, and Jonohl, and Ness- stars, it hadn't even been that long since old man Freeflight had died- I'd only been on frelling Coruscant for a handful of months and my heart still yearned for those we'd loved back on Talshion-
Sod this. I glared down at his averted face with mounting anger.
"You know what, Mal?" I said, keeping my voice quiet and, hopefully, not overheard. Last thing I needed was another of Master Karon's lengthy lectures. "Sod this. If you won't talk to me-"
Finally, his head jerked up, whiskey-coloured eyes flashing with anger. "I never see you, Revan! If you're not busy with your own Master or someone else's, then you're spending all your spare time with-"
"I'm learning, Mal! I'm learning everything I possibly can," I hissed. Our entire lives had been fraught with danger and powerlessness. Balanced on the blade-edge of chance. I hadn't been able to stop Freeflight dying from septa-lung disease- I'd thought of him as old my entire life, but he wasn't, not really, more like middle-aged- he was just blind and broken and homeless like the rest of us. And Mal- he hadn't been able to rescue his own brother from the Enforcers.
I would never be powerless again, never allow injustice to prevail if I could do anything about it.
"Dammit, Revvie, it's not just that, it's-" He halted; and the contained frustration on his face would normally have made me laugh. Usually, I only ticked Malak off when I did something he considered dangerous. This time I didn't really understand what was going on in that thick, handsome head of his.
He sighed. "Revan. You're in the training chambers all the time. He's- he's into you, alright? It's the only reason I can think of-"
Maybe it was the expression on my face that shut him up. I wasn't sure. But the anger that surged through me was hot, wild, and incredibly non-Jedi like.
I didn't get jealousy. I didn't do jealousy. And I wasn't going to be hemmed into making only friends he approved of-
Back on Talshion, Mal used to get pissy whenever I spent time around Jonohl, too. That's why I never told Mal that Jonohl was my first kiss. For frell's sake, we were supposed to be adults! We were supposed to be Jedi. I felt suddenly, deeply, disappointed with the man I loved with all of my heart.
"You don't trust me," I said quietly. "Never mind that we've been together for years; you actually don't trust me enough to choose my own friends based on my own judgment."
Malak twitched back, his eyes widening in reaction. "That's not it, Revvie, it's because he's-"
"He's into that blonde Knight who hangs around the younglings," I snapped. "He doesn't even like me, Mal, he thinks I'm nothing more than an uneducated street kid that shouldn't've been admitted. I swear he's only spending his time on me because he gets to kick my arse on a regular basis-" I stopped, clenching my teeth, as we glared at each other in silence.
Vaguely, I was aware of that hot-headed Padawan Arran Da'klor listening in unabashedly, and I threw the Zeltron a dirty look. Arran was amusing, but he had absolutely no concept of privacy. He grinned, before jerking his head to the front of the room. My gaze followed.
Icy, disapproving Master Atris was staring at me.
Oh, for frell's sake. Making a scene within the earshot of Atris. I was never going to hear the end of the dangers regarding attachment, now.
"You know what?" I lowered my voice to a soft whisper. "It doesn't matter. Whatever he thinks of me has nothing to do with you or me anyway. I'm using every resource I can to become the best Jedi I can. That's what you should be doing, Mal."
I turned away from him, took one step towards the exit.
"If you think you can get over your trust issues," I said, throwing the words carelessly over my shoulder, "then maybe you should try joining us. You never know, you might actually make a friend."
…
I gasped loudly; someone was roughly shaking my shoulder.
"Revan? Revan, are you alright?"
I blinked, my vision swimming back into focus. Fingers clenching tight in my lap. A beep from the navigational console indicating hyperspace exit within five minutes. Carth's hand, firm on my arm.
"I'm okay," I whispered, even as my voice broke on the words. Mal. My lover, my past, the black hole in my mind. We'd been so young then. He'd been… jealous? I frowned, thoughts darting wildly on the jumble of achromatic recollections as the details dissolved. There'd been a Zeltron, there… Arran. Arran Da'klor. One of the Thirteen I'd led to the Dark Side, before he betrayed me and I killed him. Malak had been jealous… jealous of him, once upon a time?
So strange, to think that once we were teenagers, drunk with the messy emotions of youth. No war hanging over us, no mountain of death or worse...
"Did you… did you remember something?' Carth's voice was low and shaky. "What?"
"Nothing of import," I mumbled, closing my eyes. Obviously Malak had, at some stage, overcome his reservations regarding Arran Da'klor. For the Jedi Thirteen had been, by all accounts, a tight-knit team. Once.
Before… before Malachor. Before everything after Malachor.
I squeezed my eyes tighter. Every remnant that surfaced told me that Malak had been crucial to my life and yet, when I thought of him, all I could feel was guilt. Guilt, and a determination to end things.
The Dark Side corroded all that was between us. There is nothing left. It was a quiet whisper from the broken recesses of my mind, and somehow it had the feeling of unshakeable truth. But could I really count on the past staying buried when I finally faced him?
When fragments emerged showing him as the man he once was, before I led him to ruin?
"Revan. Talk to me."
I glanced up to see Carth, finally, looking at me. He'd withdrawn his hand, but I could no longer see enmity in his expression… just a torn anguish that cut me to the quick.
"It was nothing that could help us here," I said quietly, holding his dark gaze. "Just something… something from much earlier."
His brown eyes roved over my face, his forehead were creased in… in concern? I drew in a shaky breath. I had not expected that.
"I didn't- I didn't stop to think how this must be affecting you," he murmured. His voice was so soft I could barely hear it. "This must be even more of a shock to you… but surely, you must have had some idea, some inkling- you knew who was in your head-"
I couldn't help a snort of derision; from the way his brows slammed down he didn't appreciate it… but I'd never been adept at keeping a personal conversation on a serious tone. "You have no idea the insane theories I tested out," I said, raising a hand to push a wayward curl out of my face. "I think the height of ridiculousness was when I wondered if I'd been one of Bastila's infamous strike team."
Carth blinked at that, before a frown of wariness once more clouded his face. He sighed, his shoulders slumping. "I don't- I can't reconcile you with the women who led the Republic before turning on it… damn it, Revan, I've- I've tried to hate you, for all you've done-"
A discordant beep from the console shattered the spell between us. Carth jerked around, glaring at the nav controls. "Two minutes until hyperspace exit," he muttered, before learning forward to broadcast the same throughout the freighter. He sighed again, pulling back into the pilot's seat, turning away from me. "I guess we both just have to find a way to push forward." His jaw firmed as he stared out at the black of hyperspace. "I'm a soldier, and you're a, a-... Look. We need to focus on the mission. On Malak and the Star Forge. We can, uh… we can talk later, you and I. Just give me some time."
"Okay," I whispered, but I wasn't, not really. We'd be spitting out in the realspace near the Forge any second now, and then what? Off to rush headlong into a confrontation that, even if it ended in success, still wouldn't wipe away my past crimes.
I honestly couldn't see any sort of future between Carth and me, assuming we survived. Even supposing he forgave me, I couldn't see a Republic that would allow my freedom, no matter how this all played out. And Carth… he was a military man. Somehow, I thought he'd be unfulfilled doing anything other than serving the Republic – even if he might've learned to shunt his family to the top of the priority list.
There wasn't a place in his life for the likes of me… and I wouldn't wish my ominous presence on a good man like him anyway. But if on this journey I could regain Carth's respect; and maybe even, one day, his trust; then I'd be satisfied, and would ignore my yearnings for anything more.
The infinite ivory lines of hyperspace snapped into nothingness as Carth expertly launched the ship into realspace. I had one moment to frown at the mass of asteroids in our field of vision before a dozen different warnings clanged from the nav console.
A proximity alarm wailed-
The 'Hawk was wrested sharply to one side as an ominous grating noise echoed from the lower starboard of the ship.
My stomach lurched, my vision darkened-
"Blast!" Carth yelled. "We've hit something!"
Beyond the mass of spinning asteroids, I saw the wink of a blue-green planetoid-
I could feel my heart thumping; each beat a deep thrum of dizzying vertigo-
"Sun and stars! What's happening?" a deeper voice exclaimed.
"Breach in starboard fuel tank," Carth growled, hands flying over the nav console. "There's something scrambling all the sensors and surface controls! Disable them, Revan! I need manual control, now!"
A moment of unreality froze my limbs, congealed my thoughts; and I sat there, passive and useless-
"The ship's not responding properly! I don't know what the frell is going on-"
Blinking lights on the dash, sweat popping out on my neck, images from the past and present overlaying but the edges didn't quite match-
"Blast it, Revan!" Carth cursed, leaning over me to jab at something on the dash. "Snap out of it! I need you, here!"
An astromech's distraught beeping from behind us; Teethree, plugged into the 'Hawk's computer, trying to desperately to override whatever was happening-
"The instruments are all out of whack-"
"It's a scrambler, Mal, you'll have to fly manual-"
"Comm the crew." Carth's voice was terse; experienced and trained for this sort of situation. "I've powered off the sensors, but one of the engines is losing fuel. Brace for emergency landing. I'll aim for a nearby asteroid."
Half the grid of instruments were shut down, now; a patch of darkness on the nav-console. Carth's grip was firm on the manual steering column; his feet and off-hand manually adjusting the thrust in the way a nav-computer normally did. I was slung sideways as the ship canted to the side; Carth veering along the edge of a jagged satellite of space rock almost the length of our ship.
"Focus on the damn ship, Mal. I'll move any rock that gets too close." I gasped, filling myself with the Force as the snub weaved between asteroids. "Keep the stabilizers on max and don't turn the sensors back on-"
"I know how to fly, Revvie!"
He did, but not as well as required for this, not as well as Carth-
Flushes of heat surged along my skin, vision blurred, the cockpit merged into the smaller, elongated tip of a Republic scoutship-
"Comm the crew," Carth demanded again. "Let them know it'll be rough. I've got the rest." His words were low and furious with the tension of the situation, as if he understood his co-pilot was currently dysfunctional, trapped between two time-lines, frozen in memory-
"I can sense the scrambler, Mal, it's coming from the planet." My eyes were squeezed tight, my senses stretching out into the breadth of the galaxy.
If I turned, would I see a hotshot pilot with a heart of gold, or a charismatic warrior who blazed in the Force?
"The planet," I mumbled.
"Scramblers are localized; their radius is never large," Carth muttered, dragging on the manual column to turn the freighter. A larger asteroid was visible some distance in front of us; big enough to land a ship on. "We'll land on that rock, fix the fuel tank breach and fly away from this location. Fly out of the reach of the scrambler."
I was so adept at this, now; drifting out along the fabric of the Force, visualizing celestial bodies whether they be fleets on the battlefront or asteroids in our path. "The signal encompasses the whole damn sector. It's huge-"
"No," I gasped. "It's too powerful, sublights will never get us far enough. You can't get us out of range without jumping into hyperspace-"
"I can't make a hyperjump with the nav computer offline!"
"It's an EMP signal scrambling our sensors, the utility droid can't crack it. Damn it, Rev, I've never done a manual landing, you need to kill the signal-"
"I can't, it's too strong-"
"It's coming from the planet," I mumbled again, half-aware of Carth cursing indistinctly as the freighter canted again. "It's too strong to disable from here."
"Too strong for you?" His voice was coloured with disbelief. "Then I'll just fly out of the planetary ring until the scrambler can't reach us."
"No." I was firm; resolute. I could see the path before us. "The planet. Something's amplifying the signal. We need to counteract it from the surface."
"You can't be suggesting-"
"Fly through the asteroids and land on the damn planet, Mal!" I ordered.
"What?" Carth snapped, and I realized I'd spoken aloud. I turned to face him; he was barely cognizant of me, all attention forward on keeping the 'Hawk from being smeared into space dust along with the rest of the rocks that orbited the planet.
The larger asteroid was close, now. Carth veered hard in an approach vector, shifting auxiliary power to the repulsors as one hand remained steady on the column.
"No," I whispered. "The planet. We have to get to the planet-"
"The Hawk's losing fuel," Carth rapped out. "One of the engines will die before I reach atmo. Asteroid's a safer bet."
"Disable the engine connected to the ruptured tank, then. Fly without it. We need to be on the planet."
It was certainty, burning deep in my gut. I was following the same path, this time with a more damaged ship but a more experienced pilot, too-
"Damn it, Revan!"
"Trust me. Please, Carth. You need to trust me."
"The planet's big, Revvie. I can't even get readouts on the atmo."
"Keep going, Mal. Trust me. The source of the scrambler is a Force beacon. We must get there."
A pause, the briefest stutter in time; I could feel the tension burning in Carth.
"I've been here before, flown this path before," I whispered. "There's something on the planet, and we need to get near it."
With a muffled oath, Carth returned power to the sublights, and the 'Hawk reneged from his approach vector, careening back into the planetary ring of asteroids. The g-forces slammed me deep into the co-pilot's chair as Carth spun the ship vertically, skimming past a couple of smaller rocks.
Through the cockpit window, the blue-green planet came once more into view.
"Keep your trajectory shallow, Mal. I need to canvas the planet's surface, find what I'm looking for."
"Enter the stratosphere but let me guide you," I whispered. My eyes fell shut once more. The Force was shaky, but there. I could feel something drawing me in towards the planet, something tempting, something alluring-
"Fifteen degrees to the right. Hold the course steady."
"You want me to fly this damn thing on manual control, leaking fuel and minus an engine, and then not even land at the first opportunity?" He was incredulous. Mistrustful. Angry, even.
"Land. Now." It was a barked order, and I felt the craft respond under his grip.
"Yes," I hissed, pressing one hand tight against my closed eyes. "You can do it, Carth. I need you to. To- to- fly to- somewhere-"
"There's some large structure ahead, Revvie, some sort of pyramid-"
"That's it. Get close and find a place to land."
"It's visible from the skies. A pyramid. The source of the scrambler." I sucked in a deep breath as I followed the tantalising beacon of Force power that called to me. I didn't have to open my eyes to know the planet's visage now engulfed the screen of the cockpit.
The ship shuddered as it hit atmo without any automatic readjustment, but it realigned under Carth's control.
I could feel his hesitation once more, rippling around him, tangible on the Force.
"Trust me," I whispered. The source of the signal beckoned to me, further around the curvature of the planet as we descended. Slightly to the left of our current trajectory.
"Please. Follow my direction. Trust me."
Trust me.
xXx
Author's Note:
Coming up next: Damage to the Ebon Hawk is canvassed, and Carth takes charge.
Thanks to kosiah for the beta.
