Nexus: Bonds

- Revan Freeflight -


Too late, too late, too late-

My head craned, staring in horror at the stairs that spiralled above me, round and round like an arc of hope slowly devolving into soul-crushing despair. A dozen floors I had damnably cleared in a flash, tricked into running after the wrong vulnerability by the man who had always known how to trick me.

Mal gambled I would drop everything to protect Yudan. To protect Carth. To protect the crew-

And completely forget about the other person so incredibly important to me.

The one whose life was even more of a vulnerability than Malak knew. He moved to wound me in one last act of spiteful defiance, not even realizing that Bastila was the key to my downfall-

My gaze darted desperately from railing to railing, skittering up the numerous flights I had so recklessly fallen past. I could see the path back up, I could bend the Force to my will, jump from side to side and ascend-

But it would take precious seconds.

And my senses told me Malak was already too far ahead.

I dropped into a crouch, one palm falling to rest flat on the chrome floor. My eyes closed, and I reached out.

The bond beckoned, and my instincts knew there was only time for one course of action – and even then I might already be too late.

My mental focus pitched hot into our mind-link. Dogged desperation drove me on: deep, deep, deeper. Near or far, distance mattered nothing to the mesh of Force that so permanently entwined me with Bastila Shan.

But Bastila- Bastila had already retreated to the stars. Back to her own mission, as per my command. Focusing on the battle I had insisted was the important one – for it was my job was to pin down the distraction.

Bastila assumed, just as I had, that Malak was hunting the others. The others, and not her.

Bastila! Come back! Come back!

I could feel her awareness, but she was vague, indistinct; her very essence spread thin in a smear of consciousness. Her thoughts and psyche dispersed, spreading wide through her net of battle meditation.

This time, there was no point calling out – for now I knew where the battle really was. This time, I had to go to her.

Somewhere, beneath me, my open hand pressed against a cold floor. But the feeling was muted and dull, and the boundaries of my own flesh blurred into oblivion as I chased after my bond-sister. Through the bond, through the Force, and deep into the ether of space.

Infinite dots of energy sparked against my senses. Existence in all its forms: creatures or plant-life or even the atoms themselves... all jumbled together in a wild matrix that would be completely chaotic if not for the unifying foundation of Force underpinning it all.

A heady sense of oneness enveloped me, for I was just a cog in the great machine of everything, surrounded by the immense power of the whole. But I was a cog that could turn, and – I understood this without arrogance – a cog that could also turn others.

The feeling was not unfamiliar. Even without an associative memory, I simply knew the throes of deep meditation could attain this level of awareness. Yet... yet there was a new dimension, an edge I had never seen before, a comprehension surrounding the psychogenic state of every sentient being within my reach.

And these states could be manipulated – the knowledge on how to do so was clear. Clear as a crystal Deralian sky that a scholar had once cherished.

I could will to life the slightest brush of hope – or fear – and direct it across the minds of many. Taint them either way. Or I could loose a psychic murmur to bolster morale and sharpen reflexes – and it would take no longer than the span of a fleeting thought. A tiny jolt – aimed at the right place – could stall the electrical impulses in any one of those sparks, and turn an organic brain into nothing more than organic soup.

All this could be done from the safety of distance.

I was a passenger – a co-pilot, even – of Bastila's battle meditation, and now I truly understood why her abilities were so widely coveted.

There, she murmured, but not at me. Her cognizance was clustered over a vast array of brightly-shining lives, and so I drew close, closer – for a touching of minds was the quickest way to communicate – but then emotion cascaded over me like the surprising gust of spring breeze-

Relief, hope, penitence – and a bone-deep weariness shadowed with shame. This was all Bastila, I knew, even as I became aware of some deeper bedrock to her fount of power. Some... other... being, holding her steady. Warm, like a blanket of light.

I need do no more. She was tired, so tired, and yet a flicker of faith blazed within her still. This is enough. This is more than enough to ensure the outcome we desire.

There was a vague sense of approval – but it didn't originate from Bastila or myself – instead, the shape of the sentiment drew from that faraway third party. A Jedi master, I thought, as I touched the edges of a sentience who radiated with peace and acceptance. He or she was barely perceptible on any sort of mental level, and so I couldn't deduce their direct thoughts – only sense a gentle urging for Bastila to return to her own body.

Well. Counsel that echoed mine, wherever it dawned from.

Bastila!

I lurched to her. A shift, and then we merged.

In an instant- maybe less- our souls fused. The shock that staggered through her almost felt like my own.

Revan-

Malak is headed-

No. No!

You've got to return-

Where are y-

Too far away!

Bastila's fright was hot and acrid. Somewhere, a faint echo of alarm mirrored in the being of light- but Bastila's connection to that consciousness broke clean through, abruptly vanishing, as the many fine tendrils of battle meditation snapped and recoiled back into her- our- core.

Then, quick as sink-sand, we plummeted down.

Something thudded, and there was a ringing in our ears. A slam against all senses – and we wrenched open our eyes to stare at the shiny floor of the Star Forge. Smooth cinereal alloy, like every surface of this cursed place. A flawless material relic of a civilization long crumbled into dust.

Was I looking through her eyes, now, or she through mine?

I cannot-

The Force was potent and sweet as it stormed through our flesh. It surged in our limbs right down to our gloved fingertips as they touched cold chrome in front of our blinking eyes. It was the raw power of the galaxy – at our bidding – if only we would get up and frelling move-

I cannot face him!

Her despair choked us and held us frozen in the body that was hers and not mine. We were staring in terror at that damned silver floor. Memories of recent trauma bubbled through our bond like poison, emasculating our instincts with blind panic despite my own drive to act. And those vivid, shameful memories nudged others into life-

Darth Malak, towering over our bound figure, septic eyes sparking with cruel delight as his gauntlet traced a path down our cheek and clasped our jaw. His voice, mocking and modulated, as he pinned us with questions we refused to find the answers to – but there was a price to pay for that defiance.

Mal, one hand warm over our eyes while the other snaked possessively around our waist. His lips moving tenderly across the skin of our neck, while he whispered secrets and surprises in a Coruscanti hangar.

Forked lightning streaming from the hands of the Lord of the Sith. Again. And again. And again and again and again. Ripping agony through our flesh and tearing screams from-

-from his lungs, as he was rendered prostrate beneath our superior might and dispassionate will. His loyalty we did not doubt, but his objections had to cease. We would see to it, and he would submit like he always did.

We named Lord Malak our master, but words surrendered for survival did not equate to truth. They did not! We might kneel and do his bidding at the price of our dignity, but if it meant less pain-

Bastila! Get it together!

The paralyzing whirlwind of memories slowed and then ceased, driven to a standstill by my furious need.

We must act!

I- Shame burned between us. I apologize-

No need. Just let me-

My bond-sister had not been granted any time of significance to recuperate or empower herself. We both knew this. It was not shameful nor weak, for I knew most sentients did not have the strength to turn from the Dark Side, nor the mettle to achieve what she had since.

But to face her tormentor now-

That took the grit of the omnipotent. And a single conversation to bolster her fortitude was, simply, too little too late. Too late-

Let me-

Yes-

My drive was strong, and her concession allowed me to slam my command deep into flesh and musculature that was not mine. I gritted unfamiliar teeth, forced foreign limbs to extend, and stood upright.

We turned, together-

Our vision blurred around a large, darkish shadow. The periphery sharpened into sense first.

Too late, too late, too late-

A hairy hulk of a body, metres away, fell down. The torso was striped through with a blackened, mortal gash-

Revan, no-

Something clanged- a robotic head, bouncing on the chrome, dismembered from its frame-

I will not fail!

I scrabbled for her lightsaber, cinched further around her waist than I would have done. The dark shape was rushing closer: black, shot through with scarlet. The shadow grew so it eclipsed absolutely everything.

Our fingers curled tight around a hilt, ripping it from our belt-

Too late, too late-

We thumbed on our lightsaber just as the pain hit.

Someone choked.

The physical- it failed us now, even as we struggled to raise our weapon high in belated defense. The pain- it seared, it blistered, it was the agony of skin broiling deep in flame-

Our eyes dropped to stare in disbelief at the burn of red impaled clean through our chest.

Too late-

"I would have kept you, little one," someone murmured in a carefully modulated voice. It sounded far away. "Had I won, you would have knelt at my side. But Revan always finds a way to achieve the unthinkable. At least now I have the satisfaction of unleashing some measure of wrath in return."

He cannot win- Revan- do something!

I called to our Force, expecting it to flood into our grasp as it always did. Instead, all we felt was the wrench of plasma gutting deeper into our frail flesh. A surge of numbness gagged the pain, and we knew what that meant.

Nerve-endings, winking out in multitude.

Slowly, our gaze tracked upwards to meet the corruption of burning yellow.

"Mal," we choked.

His face was all we could see. Metal jaw, sallow flesh, rippling scars of tainted skin twining in with those ridiculous scalp tattoos he'd commissioned after Malachor.

Armoured hands suddenly cupped our cheeks, and it was the only thing left we could feel.

"Revan?" the Dark Lord of the Sith growled, his voice a mechanical burr. Those bright, poisoned eyes widened in uncommon surprise. "Are you here? Are you seeing- are you feeling- this?"

"Too late," I whispered, as the Force melted away along with sensation. "Sometimes even I am too late-"

His yellow eyes closed, then, as his brows furrowed in concentration. The shape of his Sith-marked face swam and blurred before us. We heard a murmur of surprise from his voder, before it was drowned out by a ringing in our ears- and then everything began to fade and we began to fall-

"You are dying. I sense you dying, too," a mechanized voice blurted. It was sharp and high and shocked. "Revan. Revvie- where is your body-"

Whatever words he said after we could no longer hear.

Falling- no, it was more like melding. Atomizing. Like attaining those same, earlier heights of a Force meditation – but amplified exponentially. The whole, beckoning-

I had felt this before, or something like it. Life, transforming into Force, as I stood on the precipice and Bastila Shan begged me to step back and clasp her metaphorical hand.

But it had been the null of oblivion that had beckoned me, then: an end to it all, to me, and that had been so very tempting. A cessation to the boundless grief and the bloody ruination I had wrought in the name of sacrifice.

Now, this, before us- no, this was before Bastila- and it was not the same. This was a transcendence, rather than an end. A journey we could not halt nor reverse, for the path back to her body had gone.

And we could not see the path to mine.

Somewhere, at the bottom of a spiralling staircase, another body slumped to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.

There must be a way-

Railing against the inevitable was so very familiar, and so we fought back, struggling to pull in all the remnants of self as we threatened to disperse into just another Force echo on the other side of life.

My body- we can find my body-

It cannot be over. She was- shocked. More than that. Unable to accept that we- that I- had lost. It- it cannot-

She was disbelieving? It was nothing on the hot spurning of reality I was experiencing. Bastila had saved me when all others would have walked away- this could not be the end, not for her-

I would do it again, Revan. A flurry of regard, of respect, of deep-abiding affection warmed the both of us. I would have you understand that. Even knowing how this ends, I would still go back and save you.

Was this the end, then? Lifeblood leeching from Bastila's flesh back in a cold meditation chamber on the Star Forge. Force leeching from my own body, as my breathing stilled and my spirit flew away with my bond-sister.

Yet I wasn't mortally injured. If only we could-

Even should we find a path back, I am too broken. We cannot subside in one body, and I cannot see how to separate us. It is over for me, Revan, and I am a weight on your soul dragging you down with me.

There was a guilt, there, that was patently ridiculous. You saved me in the most important of ways, Bastila. I owe you so much. I was still searching, struggling, even as we fell together. Flickers of light and echoes of energy danced around us, intangible and impossible to define as anything other than a symbiosis of Force. Inevitability reared-

-and there was an acceptance, then, that I began to welcome.

My friend. You saved me. You gave me the chance to undo a portion, at least, of my mistakes. To return hope to the galaxy.

Malak would not live for long, we knew that. His armada was on the run, and the moment he succumbed to exhaustion or fumbled the Force he would be dead. Our last glimpse of battle meditation had shown the scales tipped high against the Sith Empire, and we knew their defeat was only a matter of time.

The Star Forge would fall.

The Republic would be granted the peace I once pledged my life to attain – for a time, at least. It was enough. It had to be.

I am not so sure.

Our minds touched again, and she was seeing that cursed purple world-

Bastila! Nothing has come from there except my own corruption. Even Malak turned his back on that place. It could be nothing-

I do not think so, Revan. Malak ignored it because he did not wish to draw attention – not because he believes there is nothing to face. Destiny is a fickle word, but I would have sworn on the Force itself that you were meant to counter the darkness hidden in the Unknown Regions-

It's not always about me, Bastila! If there's another war to fight, then there'll be others-

Will there? Resignation, or something similar, radiated from her. Like a deep, melancholic sigh of weariness. The Jedi are crippled from three generations of bloodshed, Revan. The light needs its warriors. I cannot go back, but if there was a way to release you I would-

Shh. It wasn't just guilt that tormented her, I realized. Bastila truly believed I was needed, even though she was a champion in her own right. I know you would. I know.

There was peace, then; a serenity as welcome as a homecoming. A rest from it all as we began to disintegrate. Flickers of memory toe-danced through my soul, all too fleeting to resolve into anything more than the briefest of sensations. The thrum of a ship beneath my boots. The bonds of camaraderie and friendship. The visceral pleasure a hard-earned victory could bring. The clasp of strong arms around me.

The freedom to fly amongst the stars.

Bastila faded into me, like a final embrace. There was a puzzlement from her, as I saw flashes and faces that weren't of my own recollection. A father, free with his love but limited with his time. Vrook Lamar, levitating a rock in demonstration, his lined face patient and serene. Kylah, laughing and carefree like I could never imagine her to be, as she skipped carelessly through the Dantooine grass.

A secluded childhood, at times both happy and lonely.

I didn't know what Bastila was seeing in return, but I could feel her confusion. Maybe there were just too many burnt segments of my past for her to make any sense of it all. I could certainly understand that.

I will miss those we leave behind, I whispered. For in many ways, my life had started – restarted – on the Endar Spire, and even here at the transcendence that awaited us, I was not immune to grief. Sharp and bright – for we were not the only ones leaving – we knew in our heart that at least one other had fallen. But our mission is a success, Bastila. That was my bottom line. That was all I could really ask for.

We were focused on something else. No- she was focused on something else. Something new. Our confusion grew, no- no- it was her confusion- and a desire to struggle afresh surged from her-

Bastila?

What- what is this? she spluttered. Had I been staring at her once-living face, I would've seen bright spots of confusion bloom on her porcelain cheeks. Revan-

She withdrew from me, just the tiniest amount, so I could sense the glowing golden chain of Force that connected us. But Bastila was concentrating on something else.

I saw it then: a slender, frail link that stretched far, far away. Back through the fabric of Force and into the living. Eons across the galaxy-

My body? I guessed, feeling the burn of hope ignite. Maybe she was wrong, maybe we could still find a path back. How that would work I didn't know, but the thought of a chance to save Bastila fired my own conviction to life once more.

No, she snapped. No. But it is conjoined to you- and to you alone.

What? I turned, concentrating on that thin, thin cable of energy she was so entranced by. It had the same resonance as the Force-bond that chained the two of us, but rather than an unbreakable rope, this was the faintest mirror of one, a whispered echo, and Bastila was right- it connected only to me.

Bastila's surprise turned to awe. The Force... it truly provides, even when it does so in the most unusual of manners. This link... this was formed through your body alone, Revan! All the way back on Korriban!

What?

Sometimes, the saving of another can pose a consequence one could never imagine. This link can be used as an anchor, Revan! If you are not too far removed from the physical- her words tripped, jumbling over each other in their haste. I must try this. I must. Roll the dice, as you are wont to do-

Bastila? What do you mean?

I do not regret it, Revan. Remember that. No matter what I endured- in the end you saved me, as I saved you.

Bastila!

The Force swelled, then, from out of nowhere. Like a rogue wave, a wellspring of determination formed instantly within my bond-sister's core. We could barely touch the Force in this place, much as we sank through it, and yet a steel fount of power burgeoned within her dying grasp.

She threw it at me in one swift move, and then I went flying.

You were right. We did succeed. But there is-

Flying, flying, I was flying down that intangible thread of Force-

-there is still more for you to do.

Our bond slowed me like a manacle, but my momentum was great. Behind me, a skein of Force tore free. Then, another. Ripping deep from my awareness and leaving a dulled detachment in their wake. Threads of the net joining me to Bastila were being torn away, shredding holes through my senses-

Bastila, the bond-

Hush. She sounded so far away now. It will be all right. You will find a way. You always do.

I was slowing down, still caught along that unfamiliar cable – now not so much smaller than the one behind me.

Bastila-

The weaves behind me thinned, breaking free one by one. Each break recoiled with a jarring sense of numbness, reverberating ahead along the resonance of Force I traversed. The shape of my bond-sister dissolved. The final thread snapped free- and she was gone.

Then: a ringing sound. A thud. A slam against all senses-

Air, scraping against my lungs. Hard and panicked. The grill of metal pressing on my back- but I felt nothing of import- no pain, no exhaustion, no Bastila. No Force-

I wrenched my eyes open to stare at an unfamiliar ceiling.

It was not the silvered chrome I had expected. No, instead there was grated durasteel, dotted through with the lazy fins of air recirculators. Further along, a flashing holo-ad proclaimed something lurid in Galactic Basic. The sight was so absurd and inane that I could only blink in disbelief. My body felt heavy and listless, damp with sweat beneath a tight film of something that felt oddly like synth-leather.

And the Force- where was the frelling Force?

The ringing noise subsided into the jaunty tune of a sodding Bith band and, as crazy as it seemed, I was starting to think I'd somehow teleported flat on my back into a damned cantina-!

What the actual frakk? Where's the frakking Force?

There was someone else – not Bastila, not Bastila, I couldn't sense my bond-sister at all! But there was someone else – angry and frightened and fighting me for control of this body that wouldn't respond.

My vision shook and blurred into violet. I blinked again, and there was someone leaning over me.

The vague outline resolved into a Twi'leki female, purple-skinned and wide-eyed, as her luminescent gaze fixed on mine in shock. She was saying something, but the words were too loud and discordant for me to make out.

"What?" I croaked weakly.

The woman leaned in close, as if she might kiss me or resuscitate me, and for a brief moment I felt the sharp tang of recognition-

What the bleeding frakk is going on?

A roundhouse of furious panic slammed into me from someone else as I was lurched unceremoniously from the physical world. Panic was followed instantly by the plummeting sense of freefall – and, I understood, then, that it hadn't been my body or even Bastila's, but someone else's-

An anchor, Bastila said. But Bastila was completely gone, now, and I was flailing in the dark. Somewhere, somehow, I could sense the path of least resistance, and I followed it in desperation as the oncoming black of oblivion swallowed me whole.

xXx

Author's note:
Coming up next: Multi-POV as Jedi and Sith alike react to the aftershocks in the Force.

A Force-bond's worth of thanks to kosiah for the beta.