Faith
- Carth Onasi -
The thrumming of the repulsorlifts slowly dwindled as I killed all power. Beneath us, I could feel the landing feet of the 'Hawk slowly settle into the soft beach sand that comprised our makeshift berth. The low warning clang of the fuel tank malfunction echoed throughout the cockpit.
The landing hadn't been as rough as I'd feared – I'd had plenty of experience bringing in smaller, twitchier snubs minus an engine; and manual docks were simply part of advanced pilot training.
But I'd never done both at the same time.
We've landed. We're in one piece. We can move forward. Adjusting the stabilizers to counteract the disabled engine while simultaneously correcting the flight path in a way that nav-sensors normally calculated had been... a challenge. But launching back into the air wasn't an option. Not until the leak was patched and the fuel tanks re-levelled so the starboard engine could be brought back online.
Otherwise, the chances of the Ebon Hawk spinning out of control and careening back into the ground before I'd raised her fifty metres were altogether too high.
"Teethree, run a ship-wide diagnostic," I ordered, leaning forward to do the same myself. The sensors and the surface controls were throwing out garbage results, but the internal ship computer remained unaffected from the scrambling EMP signal. I heard a beep of assent from the astromech.
The console spat out the prelim results; other than the tank rupture, everything looked fine so far. I felt my shoulders sag in relief. A fuel tank breach I can deal with. We can still move forward.
I turned, slowly; finally to look at the woman who was haunting my every thought. Our descent into the planetary atmo had been broken by a series of short, terse commands from her; minor adjustments to our trajectory; and I followed each in silence even as my doubts over both her sanity and the stability of her mind began, once more, to build.
And then, as I canted left in yet another of Revan's course corrections, I'd spotted the structure. The pyramid. What she claimed was the source of the signal.
What could be the ruin of the Republic Fleet before they even had a chance to assault the Star Forge.
I could have lined the quad lasers up right then and there, had the ship not been so heavily compromised. I'd be able to do it, I knew, even on a manual launch – provided I wasn't also compensating for a missing engine.
At any rate, it'd taken all I had to land safely. I'd slowly babied the 'Hawk inland from an aquamarine coastline that glittered through the cockpit window, and finished our descent some distance away on the beginnings of a pristine white-sand beach.
Revan's eyes were still shut; chest heaving with shallow breaths, sweaty dark curls stuck to the side of her neck. There were bruises of sleeplessness under her eyes, despite the five days in hyperspace that should have given her adequate rest. Her skin was both pale and blotchy.
In short, she was a mess. My heart ached for her.
"Revan," I whispered, but she didn't seem to hear.
I was... I was out of my league, here. I'd lived through more hairy experiences that most sents: combat zones, hot extractions, even ground attacks when events had conspired against me. But Revan...
She was slipping away from us. I shouldn't want her, but I did- and she was slipping away from me, from us all, entangled in the horrors of a past I could neither understand nor forget. What had the damn Jedi been thinking? Letting Revan loose with no idea, no defences, absolutely nothing but a gifted Padawan who had been number one on the Sith's hit list?
I knew that wasn't fair. The Endar Spire had been manned by a squad of Jedi Knights under the command of a Master, even if a technicality placed Bastila in command-
And finally, finally, I understood. The strangest demand from the Jedi-controlled mission, to give all authority to Bastila Shan even though that Cerean Master had, in all practicality, been leading it.
In case something happened with Revan. In case she broke free.
I could still, somewhat hazily, recall Revan from the Endar Spire. A quiet scholar who'd voluntarily stayed confined to her bunks. She'd blushed profusely the one time I'd spoken to her but, other than a fleeting irritation, I hadn't thought of Jen Sahara again until the Endar Spire had been betrayed.
Kylah Aramai. A traitor in the ranks of the Jedi overturned the plans of the Jedi. The absolutely insane plan. What idiotic, stuffed robe came up with the idea of putting Darth Revan on a leash and thought: Hey, you know what? Let's do that!
Revan had one fist pushed hard against her closed eyes, shaking slightly. The very real cost to her was obvious... she should be the last person I cared about, but I did. Everyone on this ship did. And she was struggling so hard not to be dragged back into the labyrinth of evil most would assume she'd never escaped in the first place.
I couldn't forget she'd once been a hero. That her zenith had shone as brightly as her nadir had eclipsed everything. That, without her, the Mandalorians would've won.
Sometimes it seemed impossible to believe that the sassy, driven woman who'd somehow wormed her way into my heart could be Revan. Darth Revan. Revan Freeflight.
And then I'd consider everything we'd accomplished, every time Revan had blazed a path through seemingly insurmountable odds – sometimes due to nothing more than sheer, raw power – and I could see it. I could see her. The charismatic, resolute leader who'd rallied a generation of Jedi Knights to lead the Republic, before falling into the depths of betrayal and madness.
Now, all I could see was her slowly breaking in front of me.
There was so much at stake. Revan needed something to keep her tethered to the present, to keep her as the Jen I had come to know- even if Jen wasn't her... I knew Jen wasn't her... I knew that the woman I cared for was some shade of Revan Freeflight... but I had the horrible feeling we were losing that woman to the worst part of herself.
She needed something to anchor her in the here and now, but I- I had to remain an impersonal colleague. I had to keep the mission on task. How could I bring myself to reach out to her, when faced with the enormity of her past?
And yet... how could I not? When I could see what this was doing to her- and, dammit, despite everything, it still didn't change how I felt, even though it should-
I gritted my teeth. "Revan," I said again, more to derail my own spinning thoughts than anything else. "Tell me about this planet. What do you know?"
"Mal and I came here before," she muttered, her head still bowed. "I don't recall anything past the landing."
Mal. Malak. Darth Malak. Something poisonous clenched in my gut. I'd heard the rumours in the Fleet. Sure, there was wild gossip about every rogue Jedi hero who joined the Republic – but that particular one cropped up time and again.
Revan Freeflight and Malak Devari defied their Order in more than one way. Jedi are meant to be unattached. They are meant to love every being equally.
They are meant to be emotionless robots.
Lovers or not, there was no denying Revan and Malak had been close. Comrades. The two most influential members of Revan's own Guard. The Supreme Commander and her Second.
The Sith Lord and her Shadow Hand.
How much did Revan remember? How hard would it be for her, at the end of all things, to face Malak once we finally made it to the Star Forge?
She hadn't even been able to kill Yudan Rosh! He'd faced her twice, now – I didn't quite understand what had gone down in the Shadowlands, but Revan was missing two fingers because of him. And on the Leviathan – the bastard was standing against her when he'd knocked me out. Maybe he was an ally now – and I had serious misgivings on that one – but she must have had a chance to kill him, and for some reason, hadn't.
Dustil had attacked her too, first time she met him. And she stopped herself from retaliating. No. I was not going to compare my son to Yudan Rosh. But there was no denying Revan was keen to give others a second chance – and considering her own, I could understand that – but blast, what did that mean if she had to stand against the man who was the most important part of her past?
Revan said she remembered little. Little more than dreams. If that was true, then it might be possible that I remembered more of Malak Devari, and I'd only met the man once.
...
"Carth, you made it!" Jordo effused, one hand slapping me companionably on the shoulder. The background hubbub of people chattering and laughing filled the air. It gave the base a festive feel to it I hadn't seen in years. I couldn't remember the last time the Fleet had paused to enjoy a social event on this scale. "No Morgana?"
"No, uh, she couldn't make it," I said, giving him a quick grin as I canvassed the large hangar with half an eye. They'd relocated the snubs and converted the bay into the venue for this impromptu celebration, assuming correctly that the turnout would be far too much for the event halls that were normally used.
Well. It was the first time the Navy base on Thani had hosted two famous members of Revan's Guard. Talvon Esan had been here before, of course – for strat meetings, military speeches and, at times, to lead our squadrons off to join the rest of the Fleet. Every Telosian was proud of Talvon Esan – our half-blooded native who was one of the galactic icons of hope and leadership against the Mandalorians.
This time, Talvon had brought Malak Devari with him.
"A shame, that," Jordo commented, his tone neutral. He knew well that Morgana never visited base. "A shame you missed the speeches too, Carth."
At my dry look, Jordo gave a chuckle. "It wasn't that bad. Knight Talvon's a good speaker, and Knight Malak was even better. Lots of the grunts out here could do with their spirits lifted, and it's funny how a few words from a robed fella can achieve that."
I snorted, even as I knew he was correct. Jordo tended to be scathing regarding any sort of pep talk from the higher-ups; the fact he spoke well of this evening's address meant I'd no doubt missed something rousing. Not that I really cared; I'd had little desire to attend, by myself, and was only putting in an appearance at this late stage because Saul would expect it.
I scanned the hangar. Near the front on a makeshift dais, I could see Saul clothed in full ceremonial dress replete with medals and surrounded by other members of the brass, similarly attired. He was speaking with a tall man in civvies, who looked strangely out of place amongst the admirals and commodores.
Saul took that moment to look over in my direction, his gaze landing on Jordo and me, before turning back to his informally dressed companion.
"Talvon Esan's left already, sadly enough," Jordo was saying as I turned back to him. "I was hoping to score a holograph for Kala – you know how much the kids worship him – and you keep forgetting to ask each time Karath introduces you."
By kids, Jordo was referring to my son as much as his daughter. A subtle way of my friend enquiring as to where the heck Dustil was. I'd waited over an hour at home, wondering if Morgana would return, despite the data-note informing me she'd taken our son out all evening to watch some new flick at the holo-centre across the other side of the city.
Dustil would be gutted if he heard he'd missed out on this. It wasn't often families were invited to events at base, and even less often we had such famous visitors. I'd accepted Morgana's indifference to the military years ago – even the whole damn war – but she was wrong about Dustil. He was old enough, now, to come along to things like this; even if she preferred to avoid them herself. I saw him little enough as it was-
"A holograph of Malak would be even better, but the chances of meeting him in person have to be-" Jordo halted half-way through his prattle, his voice changing to slow and wondering. "Or maybe not?"
I looked back into the hangar, to see the crowds of Fleet staff slowly part for Admiral Karath and the tall human he'd been speaking to up on the dais – Malak Devari, I realized with some surprise. The legendary Jedi Knight was younger than I expected, my age or even a few years under, and he walked with a natural grace and charming smile that made him seem likeable even from a distance.
They were striding towards us.
"Looks like we're getting an introduction," Jordo murmured. "That'll be your doing, Carth."
I didn't have a chance to reply; they were almost upon us. I snapped to attention – although technically this was an informal event, the very fact that Saul was dressed in full regs said as much as the flinty steel in his gaze. Saul's promotion from Rear-Admiral to Admiral had been recent, and that meant other members of the brass were watching him – judging him not only on his own actions, but also those of his underlings.
Events like these always reminded me why I never wanted to climb too high on the ladder of hierarchy – too many undercurrents to navigate. Too many sents to impress, instead of going about the actual business of protecting the Republic.
"At ease, Lieutenant," Saul said as he neared, before I had a chance to snap out a salute. Saul turned to face Malak Devari, who appeared both relaxed and at ease in his environment.
There was an intensity, though, in the broad planes of the Jedi's face and in the sharpness of his gaze. Malak Devari had a certain presence that made it impossible to overlook him, despite the casual attire that contrasted so sharply against Saul's.
Most of the Jedi attached to Republic forces still wore their Order robes, despite their aid being unsanctioned. Maybe it was the symbolism of the Jedi that they valued; in which case it surprised me to see the second most powerful leader of the Republic war effort dressing down at a military event such as this. But then I recalled that Revan Freeflight herself was rumoured to be both lightly armoured and masked during any public address. It made me wonder if the informality of Malak Devari's attire was some sort of statement against the Jedi High Council that had refused to back them.
"These are my two most skilled fighter pilots," Saul said to Malak. "I am extremely proud of the entire Telosian division, but these two stand out from the rest. Lieutenant Carth Onasi and Lieutenant Jordo Merrix."
"It's nice to meet you, sir," Jordo said, as the Jedi Knight shook his hand and turned to me with a brief smile.
"Onasi," Knight Malak said in acknowledgement as our hands clasped in greeting. "I've heard that name, I believe?"
"Serroco," Saul murmured.
"Ah." Malak nodded. His gaze sharpened. "The Republic could do with more men like you, Onasi."
"Uh, thank you. And you, too, obviously- I mean." I felt like kicking myself as I stumbled over the words – it wasn't like I was awe-struck or anything ridiculous; more that any Force-user inherently put me on edge. There were too many rumours about what they could do: read minds, calm emotions, lift spirits – and that wasn't even talking about what they unleashed on the battleground.
It was no wonder that Jedi were such inspirational speakers if half of the magical powers attributed to them were true.
A lesser man would've been outwardly amused at my social inelegance; Malak merely smiled and gave me an easy nod of acceptance. Despite my wariness of Jedi in general, I found myself liking Malak Devari on first impressions.
"Uh, this might sound a little forward," Jordo interrupted, sounded sheepish, "but I don't suppose there's any chance I could grab a holograph?" He laughed weakly. "It's just- my daughter's a huge fan."
Saul's face tightened in discomfort and, this time, Malak did look amused.
"Lieutenant," Saul warned. "This is hardly the-"
"It's no problem, Saul," Malak cut in. "If you could do the honours and take a snap?"
"Carth, too," Jordo added, motioning me forward despite my glare. "He's got a son."
Saul sighed; a sharp, angry noise that was meant to be heard.
"Kids are the future, Saul," Malak said, grinning at the Republic Admiral who had no family outside of the military. "What else are we fighting for, if not for them?"
...
Dustil had loved that holograph, too. A picture of the once-revered Malak Devari, flanked by Jordo and myself, even though my smile was obviously forced. I'd been annoyed at Jordo's insistence that I be part of snap; at least until much later, when I'd seen the awed pride on my son's face as he stared down at the signed memento.
I supposed that holograph had burned along with the rest of Telos. And the three men directly responsible for Telos had been there that night: Malak Devari, Saul Karath, and Talvon Esan.
And their leader... She hadn't been there. As far as I knew, Revan had never landed on Telos, never seen the beauty of my homeworld, before the forces under her command had bombed it into obliteration.
I swallowed, my empathy for Revan's situation eroding as my own losses reared up yet again. Jen- Revan had been the first woman I'd ever really looked at since Morgana, the one who'd started healing the breaches in my heart, the one who'd found my son-
And isn't that just the damnedest, darkest irony of all.
A beeping acknowledgment from the astromech brought me back to myself. The console detailed further information from the droid, confirming the preliminary diagnostic.
"Go to the common room, Revan," I said quietly. "We'll have to discuss our next steps. I'll be there in a minute."
Her head lifted, her gaze finally meeting mine. There was a question, there, that part of me didn't want to answer.
"I have to comm the Fleet. Let them know to expect the scrambler. Hope they're not too close behind us."
And I don't want you here when I send the message.
She understood, I thought, with the way her eyes darkened, and the sharp nod of her head.
I waited until the hatch had closed behind her before entering the encryption and transmission details, date-stamping the message, and starting the recording.
"This is a P1 message to Admiral Dodonna of the Republic Navy, or any member of the fleet division in her stead." I leaned forward to stare into the dashboard holo-cam. "This is Captain Onasi. We have exited hyperspace into what the Star Map classified as the Lehon system. Our point of origin was half a million klicks from the dark side of the sole planet, which brought us directly into a planetary ring of asteroids not detailed on the navigational map. We immediately had a collision which caused a fuel tank rupture, but have successfully executed an emergency landing on the planet, and should be able to fix the tank breach within a day or two of labour, depending on the planetary conditions."
I sighed, leaning back. "The worse news is that there is an EMP signal scrambling all ship sensor controls that neither the nav-computer nor my highly-specced astromech could crack. Manual flight control was the only way to get around it. With the lack of nav-data, I am also unable to send you any meaningful information on the breadth of the asteroid orbits. I have... intelligence from a Force-sensitive crewmate that this signal encompasses the entire sector." I grimaced. Forn knew about Revan. The actions of the Meridus had made that perfectly clear. "My first priority is to find the source of this signal and destroy it before the Fleet arrives. Fortunately the, uh, same member of my crew is adamant the origins of the scrambler are on this planet. We will make haste to ensure the Fleet can survive any planetary exit. Onasi, out."
I switched off the signal and leaned forward to send it, with the misgivings heavy in my heart. Most of the Fleet would have picked a similar exit to mine; hidden in the planetary shadow on the far side of the Star Forge, out of sight. It was possible to pull ships out of hyperspace slightly earlier than programmed, and a starship's hyperdrive had evasion sensors that would automatically readjust to exit next to a celestial object rather than in it – but it wasn't infallible. There was still an art to hyperjumps, and accidents were as common as asteroids, out there in the galaxy.
The scrambler was worse than any potential collision, though. Although some of the larger destroyers would have more powerful computers than Teethree, the ships themselves were not made for manual control. There was no choice; I had to destroy the signal fast, and to do that, first I had to fix the Ebon Hawk.
I unclipped my harness, stood up, and left the cockpit.
xXx
"...can't get it out of my head," Dustil muttered, rubbing hard at his arms. The entire crew had filtered back into the central room of the 'Hawk, and with nine sentients it was beginning to feel a little crowded. Next mission to save the galaxy, I thought idly, we'd better source a larger freighter.
"It is constant," Juhani said from her customary place by the wall. She was staring towards the stern of the ship, tawny gaze narrowed, tipped ears laid flat against the side of her head. "A constant call of power."
Dustil was staring at the same blank patch of durasteel walling.
I scanned the room, and all thoughts of freighter capacity flew from my head as the eeriness of the scene struck me. We had five Force-users onboard the ship and, without exception, they were all looking in exactly the same direction. Like a pack of gazehounds, noses in the air, collectively drawn to the same sight of prey.
"What," I snapped, "is going on?"
Revan broke first, turning to look at me from her place seated next to Zaalbar. But it was the Mandalorian – with his damn boots up on the table again – who answered first.
"Well," Canderous drawled, "from what I can tell, you crashed the ship into a space rock before crashing it into a planet. Interesting bit of flying there, Republic."
Sometimes, I had the strongest urge to punch that smug Mandalorian right in the kisser. I'd had my share of brawls, and while I wasn't sure I could take him, I knew I'd be able to get a couple of good hits in along the way.
"I challenge you to exit a hyperjump with nav data thirty thousand years old," I ground out. "There was no sign of planetary belts on those blasted Star Maps. Try doing that and a manual flight pattern because of some damn scrambling signal-"
"Enough," Revan cut in, her voice terse. "Canderous, I'm sure you know a lesser pilot would've crashed. I think I did crash, last time, and we weren't leaking fuel or minus an engine." She frowned, leaning forward over the table, one hand rubbing at her temple.
"You flew here last time?" Juhani asked, her attention now trained on Revan. I glanced around and saw both Jolee and Yudan paying attention to the conversation, but my son was still staring at the wall. His head was cocked, mouth slightly ajar, face glazed over like a stim junkie.
"What's on this planet, Revan?" Canderous asked. "What's this signal Onasi's talking about, and how do we get to this Forge of yours?"
"Dustil?" I said sharply.
"It's a scrambler, I..." Revan trailed off, turning to stare at Dustil. The hairs stood up on my arms. He wasn't moving; his eyes were unfocused and he wasn't listening to any of us. He wasn't hearing us, I realized with a shaft of horror.
"Dustil? Sheesh, snap out of it!" Mission, seated next to him, gave Dustil a nudge.
"Dustil!" Revan snapped, and at the same time a gust of air currents lashed through the room- I had a split-second's moment of confusion, how the heck could there be wind inside our ship-
Mission squeaked in alarm as Dustil was pushed deep into the plimfoam benches by an unseen force.
"What- what the frakk?" Dustil spluttered, his frozen expression shattering as he turned around to glare at Revan. "What the frakk did you do that for?"
She was staring at him through narrowed eyes. She did that. Broke him free of- of whatever- whatever has all of them so damn entranced-
"There's some sort of Force beacon on this planet," Revan said in a tight voice. "It's controlling the EMP signal, but it's powered by the Force and we can all feel it. Dustil, apparently, more so than the rest of us."
"What- what do you mean by that?" Dustil spat, his eyes shooting daggers at her. Mission laid a calming hand on his shoulder, but I could see the belligerence all over his face. Revan was right, though. And worry for my son sat tight in my stomach.
"It is pure Force, being harnessed somewhere nearby," Yudan spoke up from the far side of the room. He, too, was staring at my son with a look of frowning intensity. "Those more attuned to the Force will feel it strongly. And those with less training will have a greater susceptibility to its call."
"Both of which apply to you, Dustil," Revan murmured, her gaze still fixed on him.
For the hundredth time, I found myself wishing that Dustil was normal, that he was just a Force-blind sent that wouldn't attract the likes of Yudan Rosh, and- and Revan.
But then he would have died on Telos. He wouldn't have rescued us on the Leviathan. He wouldn't be the man I can sometimes see he has the potential to become-
I'd accepted, back on Korriban, that the Force was part of Dustil- which meant it was part of my life, too. I could spend my time wishing futilely that things were different- or I could face up to the hard facts: Dustil was a powerful Force-user with incomplete training from a Sith sociopath.
And now, he was surrounded by powerful Force-users who could teach him a better way. And maybe, just maybe, that also included Revan. I didn't know.
Dustil was glaring at both Revan and Yudan in turn. "I spent four years training under Jorak Uln and Uthar Wynn!"
"One of whom spent his time resenting the students, and the other pitting them against each other," Yudan commented in a droll voice.
"How much time did you spend on mental guards?" Revan asked. "Meditating? Psychic resistance?"
"I- I-" Dustil's face was flushed with embarrassment, and I would've felt sorry for him if I didn't feel so damn concerned. There'd been a moment, there, when he hadn't reacted to Mission's nudge, that I'd been struck with the horrible notion of him being forever lost to some Force-induced catatonia.
Sometimes, I really hated the blasted Force.
Revan's expression softened. "I'm not trying to get at you, Dustil. But I'm worried how much a hold on you this Force beacon has." She raised her gaze to stare at Jolee, who was leaning back against the kitchenette counter. "Can you spend some time with him, Jolee? Get him to guard himself properly?"
I could see Dustil's jaw set in resentment as he scowled at her. He wasn't going to budge easily-
"Eh, it's not a bad idea, lad," Jolee commented, and Dustil's brittle gaze shifted to settle on the old man. "She's right, you know. You are strong in the Force, and that means you're more open to its dangers."
"A true Sith seeks power. A Jedi seeks learning. Those who stand in between seek balance," Yudan Rosh spoke in a low monotone. "You stand to gain a useful skill regardless of your chosen path, Dustil Onasi."
I could have growled something about his path being obvious- I was not going to stand back and let my son fall back into the clutches of their damn Dark Side – but I saw the considering look Dustil gave that blasted Twi'lek; the slight, imperceptible nod before he slowly got to his feet and followed Jolee out of the room.
Damn it. Dustil had refused to follow Masters from the Jedi Order back on Kashyyyk, but up until this moment I'd thought he detested the likes of Yudan Rosh even more so.
He spent four years in a Sith Academy. Being fed all sorts of propaganda. Of course that part of him is going to listen to Yudan Rosh.
"We should keep an eye on him," Revan said in a low voice. "At least until we can disable the signal." She placed her hands on the table like she was about to get up.
"Wait just a minute," I warned. "No one is leaving this ship until we get a readout on the atmo, and the 'Hawk's sensors are unintelligible. Unless you remember walking about this planet unaided-"
She shook her head, briefly, her green gaze fixed on mine.
"-then we're going to send Teethree out first, cycle the airlock, and check the breathability of the air. Our first priority is to repair the fuel tank rupture. Then, we're going to destroy that damn pyramid you Force-users are all so drawn to."
"Destroy?" Revan said sharply. "I've overpowered it before, Carth. It should be easy enough to-"
"You don't know," I cut in, folding my arms. "You said yourself you only remember landing. You have no idea what's in this pyramid, or what it cost you last time. We're here to put an end to the Star Forge, Revan, and that includes this damn defense that will cripple the Republic Fleet if we don't take it down."
I could see the thoughts whirling in her mind as she stared at me in silence. "You plan on using the Ebon Hawk to fire on the pyramid," she said slowly.
I nodded. "I can do a manual launch if I can re-level the fuel tanks and have all engines running. The turbolasers should be enough to take it out; if not, then there's always the proton torpedo."
There was one torpedo, its launch able to be activated from the cockpit. One way or another, I was not going to let history repeat itself. Last time, Revan had come here with Malak and, presumably, disabled that Force-damned scrambler before using it again in the name of the Sith. Not this time. Not on my watch.
I held her gaze as the rest of the crew watched in silence; wondering, maybe, who would win this battle of wills. Revan smiled, slow and sweet, and it transformed her drawn face; reminding me of yet another facet of the woman who still drew me in like a flutter-gnat to a raging inferno.
"You're right," she murmured, nodding. "Let's do this. Your way."
xXx
"This world is odd," Canderous said, staring hard into the distance. The beach sand stretched for miles in either direction; a soft, harsh plain of white. From our vantage point next to the hull of the Ebon Hawk, we could spot a couple of broken husks of metal; downed starships some klicks away. "It looks like a battlefield, but the environment is lush and green. This place is strange. I don't like the lack of life here."
Of course he doesn't, I thought sourly. No life means there's nothing to beat up.
Deeper inland, the vegetation encroached on the sandy ground; thick, green foliage that told of a healthy planet ripe for life. Teethree's air quality tests had all come back positive for standard sentient life, and yet none of his long range bio-scanners found anything larger than small rodents or sea-birds.
The 'Hawk was positioned half a klick inland from the edge of a restful ocean. The pyramidal structure was clearly visible a short distance into the bush, but I'd flatly ordered everyone to stay confined within the ship or its perimeter. None of the others had shown any further signs of being drawn in by that damn Force beacon, or whatever it was, but I wasn't going to take any chances. I couldn't get the image out of my head, of all five of them – Revan, included – staring blankly in the same direction.
Zaalbar howled something as he backed out from underneath the Ebon Hawk's hull. I'd taken a look at the damage myself. Our inertial shields had stopped the rent from tearing open further during atmo entry, but it was still sizeable.
"Big Z reckons it'll take a half a day to smooth over the damage before it can be sealed," Mission piped up, crawling out behind him. I'd caught the word 'repair', but other than that Zaalbar's native tongue still blurred into a long litany of meaningless rumbles. Even after all this time, my Shyriiwook was dismal at best. "And then we'll have to source a patch. We off-loaded all our metal scrap back on Yavin, so maybe we can cut something from the inside wall of the cargo bay?"
She wrinkled her nose, pushing up a set of goggles high on her head. The idea of butchering the 'Hawk didn't sit well with me either, but speed had to be priority.
Canderous snorted. "Half a dozen downed ships within sight, and you want to go bastardizing our own?"
"We're not doing any recon, Ordo," I said warningly. "Only the quickest method to get the 'Hawk up and running. Then we destroy the pyramid and head to the Star Forge."
"You make it sound so easy," Mission commented. "Just fly over and boom. One less Star Forge in the universe."
Easy. Nothing about any of this has been easy. A chime from my wrist-comm cut off whatever response I might have made, and I frowned down at it. A message from the 'Hawk's comm relay: receipt of a delayed transmission. But it wasn't marked with the standard encryption protocols I'd been using – rather, it was scored directly against the 'Hawk's central computer. Any interception of the comm would require advanced hacking techniques to capture it intelligibly; it wasn't as secure as the military protocols anyone in the Fleet would use, but even those weren't infallible.
"I've a comm," I muttered. "Zaalbar, get started on smoothing the breach with Teethree. We'll talk more about the patch material after I've viewed this."
The Wookiee howled an assent, and I began walking back around the freighter's hull. I wasn't going to play the message here, but the headers on it had me start in surprise. It was marked as coming from a member of the Jedi Order.
I glanced up as Revan stepped down from the loading ramp. She looked at me, cautious and wary, as if she knew something had just happened.
Is it meant for her? Wouldn't the Jedi Order expect me to vet it first? Maybe it was for Juhani. Maybe it was some warning about Revan... some message they wanted the rest of the crew to hear.
It doesn't matter, I thought suddenly. It's from the Jedi Order... and surely that means Revan has a right to see it. I could go on forever about the crimes of her past, but at the end of it all the Jedi Order had placed her firmly on this path- without her consent.
We stared at each other in silence, and the strands of broken trust between us were almost tangible in the air. Dammit. I couldn't- I wouldn't let her go through this any blinder than she already was.
"Revan," I said in a low voice. "There's a delayed comm. It's from- it's from the Order."
She blinked, but her face remained impassive.
"Come to the cockpit. We may as well see it together."
I heard the quietest of sighs, but otherwise she followed me in complete silence as we traipsed back through the 'Hawk. Juhani gave us a curious look as we passed her in the common room, but Revan didn't say a word until we made it to the communications array.
I slid into the pilot's bucket seat, and motioned for her to sit as well.
Revan shook her head. Her lips had thinned and her shoulders tensed, as if she was bracing herself for what was to come. "Just play it, Carth."
I leaned forward, and accepted the transmission.
A holo-picture of two Jedi Masters winked into life above the vid-stand. One was a scowling male Human, and the other a green alien less than half his height. I recognized both of them immediately.
::This is a message for Revan Freeflight.:: The Human looked grim, his jaw set as if he'd swallowed something unpleasant. ::We are on our way with the Republic Fleet to assist on your assault of the Star Forge. To make sure the right thing happens this time.::
"Who is he?" Revan whispered, frowning, as she stared at the hologram. "Should I know him?"
"Vrook Lamar," I said tersely. It hadn't been that long ago since I'd last spoken with the man, and he appeared even more ill-tempered this time. "The short green one is Vandar Tokare."
::To the Force, you must listen,:: Vandar added, leaning in from the side. ::Clear your mind. Let emotion blind you not. We remember the Jedi Knight you once were. Still there, she is. I have faith that she is.::
I felt Revan shiver next to me, and couldn't help but turn to look upon her. Her green gaze glistened and her face was etched with pain.
"I don't know them," she whispered brokenly. "Shouldn't their faces mean something to me?"
"Do not forget all that Bastila has sacrificed for you,:: Vrook cut in, his voice harsh with pain. I understood his grief, but I damned him for it anyway. One master counselled rising above emotion, where the other had it written all over his face. ::She is now in Malak's clutches because of her mercy toward you. You cannot forget what you owe her.::
There was a hiss of anger from Revan, and the torn look on her face morphed in anger. "As if I could," she muttered.
"Revan," I whispered, as Vandar started saying something about the will of the Force.
"What?" she snapped, and then very deliberately turned her back on the delayed holo-message to glare at me. "What the frell is the point of this? To make me feel worse? I don't even recognize those damn Masters!"
I leaned forward to cut the transmission. I could always replay it later. Maybe Vandar meant it as a bolstering talk, but he would have done a damn sight better keeping Vrook out of it.
"Vrook Lamar is Bastila's Master," I said haltingly. "I guess that's why he's a bit-"
"Upset?" she all but snarled. "Dammit, Carth, I've been living with this since the day Kylah Aramai took her!"
The pain broke in her voice, and I leaned forward to clasp her hand. She jerked back, stepping away from me.
"Revan-"
"No. No, I can't, Carth, I- damn them! They were on Kashyyyk, you know?" she demanded, her eyes blazing with emotion. "Zhar herded me down to the Shadowlands before they came close, because he didn't trust what they would do to me! What the frell does that tell you about the Order?"
That they're divided. That the Jedi Order is divided over you.
She grimaced before looking down. "I had two Masters on my side, Carth, and they're both dead now. I'm not going to sit and listen to those robes who were a part of- look, I get why they did what they did, but forgiveness is a whole other skillet of scalefish." She laughed bitterly, and took another step backwards. "I'm sure you understand that. I'm going to end this, one way or another, alone if I have to. I refuse to listen to anymore-"
"You're not alone!" I cut in sharply. "Blast it, Revan, you're not alone."
"Aren't I?" she whispered, eyes glittering, and I knew she wasn't talking about the rest of the crew. My breath hitched in my throat and my heart stuttered. She stood in front of me, brittle and flawed and yet somehow still blazing with conviction, despite all of the pain and horror she had both suffered and perpetuated.
I was silent too long. Revan took another step back, one hand fumbling for the hatch control. "Listen to the rest of the message if you want, Carth. I'm sure you can fill me in on anything relevant."
She spun on her heel and left me.
"Sithspit!" I swore, slamming my hand against the dash, and damning myself for being a fool. Whether it was for reaching out or not reaching out far enough, I didn't know.
xXx
There was nothing of real import in the remainder of the transmission. Vrook seemed to think that guilt was the key to motivating Revan, which just showed the damn Master knew nothing about her at all. Even I could tell that Revan had been crucifying herself, rightly or wrongly, ever since she'd found out the truth. The only reaction Vrook Lamar elicited in her was anger.
Vandar's calming messages about the Force would have meant more to a Force-user than a soldier like me, but I wasn't going to ask Revan to sit through that again.
I sighed heavily as I once more left the 'Hawk.
Other than Dustil and Jolee, all of the others were gathered outside. Canderous was at the base of the loading ramp, surrounded by discarded pieces of an armour suit he'd obviously hidden from my purge of the Ebon Hawk's stores. He was busy wrestling with an armoured glove as I stepped next to him and paused, staring at the others standing some metres in front of me.
Revan was saying something to Yudan, her words inaudible from this distance. The Twi'lek's expression was set, almost hostile, as Revan offered something cylindrical from one outraised limb.
The alien sun glinted from what I immediately recognized as a lightsaber hilt.
Alarm shot through me. She wasn't- she couldn't seriously be thinking about arming him? It was one thing to bring a dangerous war criminal into the midst of our crew, but to hand him a damn lightsaber before we'd even reached Malak-
Yudan Rosh leaned forward and plucked the hilt swiftly from her grasp.
It was only when it ignited a blinding white in his grasp that I recognized it for what it was: one of the training lightsabers Revan used so frequently in the garage.
Behind them, Juhani activated an identical weapon, and stepped up to face Revan. I saw the quick grin on Revan's face, the first flash of delight I'd seen in what felt like forever, and my chest tightened. I wanted... I wanted to see that carefree joy more, I realized, despite everything. I wanted it to be less forced- I wanted her to be happy, even while part of me railed that she, of all sents, didn't deserve it.
Canderous stopped what he was doing to watch, as Juhani and Yudan both advanced. Revan held an answering blade of white, and suddenly surged to the left, striking low at Juhani's legs as Yudan shot forward to intercept her.
The lightsabers sparked as they crashed together. Revan launched forward with an aggressive lunge at Yudan that he swiftly parried before counter-attacking.
Canderous grunted from beside me. "You're not man enough for her, Republic."
I shot him an incredulous look. "What?" I snapped, gesturing over to the trio, who were moving too fast to keep a fix on. "And you are?"
Ordo had always had a ridiculously high opinion of himself, but surely he didn't believe he could hold his own against them.
He snorted in derision. "I'm not talking about combat, di'kut."
I could feel my jaw tightening. Revan and I were none of his damn business, and the last thing I was going to listen to was any sort of insult from a damn Mandalorian. I glared at him, and his ugly face stared back at me uncompromisingly.
"Combat ain't everything. Not even to a Mando'ade. Not when it comes to your clan. Your woman." Canderous jerked his chin to point to the ongoing spar. "Malak was her equal, out there. And still he failed her. Revan doesn't need an equal on the battlefield, she needs someone to fight her demons with her. And I ain't talking about the ones she meets on the end of her lightsaber."
He turned his head to the side and spat. "Bah," he added, his voice scathing. "You don't deserve her."
The anger was there, simmering hot and heavy in my gut, and suddenly everything snapped. The grief over Morgana and my lost life that had once more been dragged to the surface with Revan's reincarnation, my torn thoughts over Revan herself, my worry for Dustil-
And that damn Mandalorian, staring at me with a derisive sneer, because of course to him it would be nothing to jump straight back into bed with a woman who'd once destroyed millions of lives including his own-
For once I allowed my anger to find an outlet. It found it as my fist crashed into his jaw.
His knees buckled; with satisfaction, I saw a brief moment of confusion in his eyes as he realized he was kneeling in the sand.
He roared a second later, surging angrily to his feet. I felt my second blow to his jaw reverberate through my forearm as he collapsed to the ground once more.
I kept my guard up, waiting, the red-mist burning hot in my tensed muscles. Damn that bastard if he thought I was going to take any more of his crap-
Canderous rose from the ground once more but, this time, thrusting forward with a stiff left jab that thudded into my guard, and robbed me of my opportunity to land a third punch on his damned smug face.
I realized it was all on now, as he moved forward with another straight jab that I caught on my forearms. And another; that grazed my cheek as it partially penetrated my upraised fists.
He was bigger than me. Taller, with a longer reach. And I knew that standing on the end of his jab was a bad place to be.
The next time he threw; I ducked forward, underneath, and hurled my most powerful overhand right.
He raised his lead arm, and my blow thudded harmlessly into his upper arm and shoulder.
Blast it! I've got to try that again-
Another straight jab from him that I ducked, again countering with a power punch that he shouldered.
This was working. The next time I'd have him. The next time my counterpunch would be faster, more direct. I'd land before he could raise his shoulder to deflect my blow...
He moved forward to jab, and once more I slipped it-
-but it wasn't a jab. I ducked forward straight into his left hook.
His right followed with speed, smashing into my teeth.
There was a moment where, stunned, I felt the ripples of pain explode through my mouth, and then Canderous charged with a wild yell.
His shoulder slammed deep into my gut, tackling me to the sand. Landing hard on my back, a second later his fist sunk deep into the side of my ribs.
The air escaped my lungs in a winded gasp.
And he was... the bastard was laughing!
"Didn't think you had it in you, Onasi," Canderous wheezed, rolling off me. The adrenaline, the urge to rise up and challenge him again was still there, and yet he seemed totally unconcerned as he lurched to his feet.
Canderous laughed again. "Hah. You should do that more often, Republic. Release some tension since you're not getting laid." He was grinning madly above me, blood trickling down from a cut on his cheek. My head was thumping, my vision blurred, and a dull ache thumped in the centre of my gut. "D'ya feel better now?"
Despite it all, I laughed. Mandalorians. It all boils down to sex and fighting with that lot. And yet, surprisingly, I did feel better – aches and pains be damned.
A calloused hand swam into view; I blinked, and realized Canderous was offering me a lift up. With a grunt, I took it.
"You start the prelim work on the repair job," he said, dragging me up to my feet roughly. His gaze sharpened as he turned to look back at the 'Hawk. "I'm gonna go see if I can score a hull patch from the nearest wreck. I reckon I'll be back before you smooth the edges of the breach, and then we don't have to cut into our own damn ship."
I stared hard at the seasoned veteran; one eye was puffy, and I couldn't help a sense of satisfaction at that, even though I knew I likely looked just as bad. He was waiting for my reply and part of me thought I could refuse him – Canderous didn't follow me, but he answered to Revan, and she had more or less ceded leadership.
For now. Somehow, I didn't expect it would last long. Somehow, I didn't think it should.
I nodded in assent. I didn't need the assistance of Canderous to continue with the repair and, if he came back with suitable material before we required it, then all the better. I could see the sense in his plan.
"Just take a wrist-comm, alright?"
He gave me a dry look I probably deserved. Back on Kashyyyk, Ordo had been the only one who kept in reliable contact. "I ain't the one who needs to be told that," he said gruffly, before turning back to his pile of armour.
I glanced over to the others. Revan and Juhani were both staring at us, shocked and somewhat appalled in the Cathar's case, lightsabers extinguished like they'd been on the cusp of intervening.
I was glad they'd stayed the heck out of it.
A look of exasperation crossed Revan's face as she thumbed her 'saber back on and turned to face Yudan. And as she raised her weapon once more in a guarded position, I took the moment to view her as the woman she now was. Not the villain who made the Republic tremble, nor the charismatic hero the galaxy had adored.
Instead, the flawed, beautiful warrior who kept fighting despite every stumble along the way.
All I could remember, right then, was vowing to protect her back on Korriban when she'd lost control. Protect her from herself, if need be. Being there for her, an anchor of the present, to help chase away the nightmares of the dark.
I didn't know how much help a simple man like myself could be against all that she grappled with, but suddenly, all that seemed important was that I try.
xXx
Author's note:
Coming up next: The sparring continues, and Juhani has another talk with Yudan.
Thanks to kosiah for the beta.
