Revampment concluded. Continuation beginning.
Sister: Orange
The tray in Mir'ren's hands fell to the floor. The glass tumblers shattered into pieces as they hit the tile, just like the life Mir'ren had tried to lead.
Nikita smiled grimly as Mir'ren whirled to look at Tomo. "It's a lie!" she cried wildly. Her flaming red hair danced like fire around her white face. "All a lie, Tomo love, because why would I lie to you?"
"Because it gave you a reason to be safe on Nar Shaddaa, where your Force could be masked easily," Nikita drawled. She picked up a shard of broken glass and examined it, looking at her warped reflection in the curved glass. "The deadness of Nar Shaddaa hid you from Nihilus. You ran here as soon as he came for your world, didn't you?"
The blonde Jedi looked at Mir'ren. The thin woman was shaking, eyes darting nervously from the guests to the doors, obviously gauging her chances of escape.
"How did you know?" That was Atton, looking incredulously at Nikita. She snorted, and leaned over to flick him on his forehead. "I find your and Mira's and Bao's and Mical's Force ability and you ask me how I know?" she demanded, insulted. "This one's even trained properly – I could spot her a mile away." Looking around the apartment, and added, "I knew I felt something weird about this house." What she kept to herself was that Mir'ren's Force affinity was striking a chord on the raw wound that was her own connection to it.
"Mir'ren?" Tomo's voice was hoarse with disbelief. "You… lied to me?" Mir'ren shook her head frantically and opened her mouth to speak, but Nikita spoke again. "I remember you now," she informed her. "You were on Dantooine with me and my sister for a while. But then you were shipped off to some other random planet to be a chronicler." She looked at the pale woman whose face was getting paler by the second. "You were really nerdy back then – you grew up a lot. You're actually pretty now."
Carth snorted, and quickly tried to disguise it as a sneeze. Mir'ren blanched, then collapsed onto a chair. "Okay," her muffled voice came. "I admit it. I was a Jedi. Happy?"
"No," Nikita told her. "I'm not. Do you know how many of us are left?" Mir'ren raised her head. The cheeks were now streaked with tears. "How many?" she whispered, obviously dreading the answer.
Nikita held up her fists. "Well, there's me," she said, and raised a finger. "You." Another finger. "Atton, Bao, Mira, Mical." Four more fingers. "Bastila, Jolee, Juhani, Dustil." Four fingers. "And Revan." Nikita lifted a foot. All of Nikita's fingers were raised plus her foot, and she looked between them at Mir'ren.
"Only eleven…" she murmured. Her brown eyes flitted to the datapad. "And one of them is missing," Carth informed her grimly. "And two more are in various stages of death back on Telos," Atton added, glaring at the woman. Nikita flinched and lowered her limbs.
Mir'ren bit her lip and stole a glance at her husband. Tomo was gripping the arms of his chair very hard. "You liar…" he whispered. "So dangerous, we could have both been killed… The Exchange, or this Dark Lord…"
Her brown eyes got very watery. "Don't you see, though!?" Mir'ren burst out in a voice too loud for her little body as she leapt to her feet. "There's only eleven of us left. E-LEV-EN. I couldn't tell anyone about me, I'd suffer the same fate! At least here I had a chance of surviving and passing on the Jedi way to someone, anyone!"
The room was silent except for the steady drip… drip… of water off of the tray on the floor.
Nikita stared at her. "So you hid like a coward while all of them died?" she asked bitterly. Mir'ren snorted. "I see you're still here!" she retorted meanly. Nikita's temper flared dangerously. "That's because until a few weeks ago I couldn't feel the Force!" she shrieked. Mir'ren fell back, cowering in the wake of Nikita's temper. "And, for the record, I'm alive because I killed Sion, killed Nihilus, AND killed Traya!" she screamed at the terrified redhead. "While you sat here playing house, I risked my life and the lives of those I care about to keep this galaxy alive! And now we're going to find the one person who might be able to keep it alive past this year and you're going to sit here and pretend you're not a Jedi!? You COWARD!"
Something in the redhead seemed to snap, because she stood up straighter and glared at Nikita. "I remember you, Nikita Vaas," she said coldly. "I remember you went to war… like I did."
"What?" Nikita gasped. "I never saw you… never knew…" "That I followed Revan too? That they shipped me to Coruscant to try and stop me from leaving, that I joined anyway? That my research made me an excellent battle plan technician, that it was I who helped Revan lay the schematics for Malachor V?" Mir'ren retorted. She drew herself up to her full height, and continued, "I have just as much blood on my hands as you do. I am no coward."
The room was dead silent. Atton and Carth looked warily at Nikita, unsure as to how she would act to this latest revelation. Tomo sat in his chair, face in his hands, obviously horrified by what was unfolding before him. Atton felt a flash of pity for the man – his dreams of any type of normal life had probably just been smashed as surely as the glasses on the floor.
It was obvious they were all bracing for a brawl. Mir'ren's hand twitched incessantly, and Atton was running his thumb along the hilt of his orange saber. But Nikita, as usual, surprised them all.
It was as shocking as when she had danced for Vogga, as stunning as when she had trusted Visas, as unexpected as when she informed Atton that she still trusted him despite his bloody past.
Nikita had bolted forward and hugged the slight woman tightly.
"I am so sorry," she murmured into Mir'ren's shoulder. "I didn't realize… you never did go back, did you? I didn't… you're just like me…" Mir'ren awkwardly patted Nikita on the shoulder as the blonde pulled away. "It's perfectly all right," Mir'ren assured her. "But… if I might ask…" she was appealing to Carth now, "may I come with you? You're going after Revan," she swallowed, "and I owe her one for letting me leave without a fight after the Wars."
Carth looked genuinely surprised at the offer. Atton, who disliked new crew members ever since the addition of Mical to their little band, asked sourly, "And why should we bring you? It's crowded enough as it is." Nikita gave him a poisonous glare which he pointedly ignored. If she wouldn't kiss him, then she would get the silent treatment, apparently.
Mir'ren didn't seem to take offense. "You want to take me because I know a lot about the Sith and Jedi history, which Revan is apparently referencing in her clues," she told him sweetly. Atton's scowl deepened, but it was obvious he conceded defeat because he crossed his arms and sat back grumpily in his chair.
Nikita sidled up to him and sat on his knee, much to the surprise of all present. "Stop being such a little kid, Atton," she whispered, poking his forehead. "Why?" he asked petulantly, obviously doing so just to irritate her (she could see the traces of a smile at the corners of his mouth). Leaning in so she could whisper in his ear and no one else could hear, she hissed, "Because little kids shouldn't see pretty grown up ladies wearing skimpy dancer's outfits."
His arm shot out to catch her wrist, but she danced out of the way. The momentary rougish grin was replaced by a childlike pout, though Nikita could tell he laughed behind the sad expression. She laughed out loud. The sound rang through the otherwise quiet room who had been watching the exchange. Carth bore an amused expression laced with loss, while Mir'ren looked shocked and slightly offended. Tomo did not react; his face was still in his hands.
Mir'ren seemed to notice this, because she inched over to his chair and knelt beside it. "Love?" she murmured. "Do you care if I go with them?" When he did not answer, she laid a hand on the sleeve of his shirt.
Tomo's head snapped up. "Go," he growled. "Get out of here, you lying scheming schutta. I don't even want to see you again, you Sith's daughter." His eyes burned with anger as he stared down his wife.
Mir'ren recoiled as if she had been slapped. Once again, though, the woman straightened up in defiance. "Very well," she said coldly. "Let me gather my things and I'll be gone." She swept out of the room without another glance at her fickle husband. Nikita, Carth, and Atton stared in her wake.
There was a very awkward silence left in place of Mir'ren, her distraught spouse sitting with those who exposed her. As Tomo was obviously no longer paying attention to anything they did, Nikita silently drew a datapad out from the little pouch at her hip. Silently, she began to type to Carth and Atton.
So what do you think of our new little addition? she typed, and passed the datapad to the two men. They held onto it for a minute, then gave it back to her with two answers.
I don't trust her. She was too quick to deny what she was and then turned around too quickly for comfort. Seems like she was manipulating the poor sap over there for safety. Damn Jedi… Frack, I can't say that anymore, can I? That was obviously Atton's answer. Though it was laced with his usual skepticism and sarcasm, he made a valid point about Mir'ren's trustworthiness.
Carth's was a little different. She seems all right. I don't really trust any Jedi (no offense), but as far as Jedi go I like her. Plus, we could use her knowledge. We're going to be digging in ancient Sith history here. I have to agree with Atton on one point, though. She was definetly manipulating her husband.
Nikita nodded, and replied with an answer of her own. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't give her a snowball's chance in the Hawk's hyperdrive. But I think she'll be loyal out of necessity. Don't forget Revan's message about someone here helping us more than we know. I doubt she means Mopey McGloomsome over there.
She handed them the datapad again. Atton smirked and Carth tried to suppress a grin of mirth as Mir'ren reentered the sitting room. She carried a small cloth bag of her personal effects on her back. However, in her right hand was the proudly gleaming hilt of a double bladed lightsaber.
"I'm ready," she said quietly. Nikita nodded, and motioned for Carth and Atton to rise. With a brief "thank-you" to Tomo, the four left the apartment for the streets of Nar Shaddaa. And from the alleyway bordering it, a shadowed figure slunk into the building. There was business to take care of.
---
Back on the ship, Mir'ren's arrival had created an uproar.
The idea of another Jedi to supplement their little band was welcome, but it was cleer very few people trusted her. Ironically, Bastila and Nikita were the only ones who could vouch for her, glaring at one another as they defended the redheaded Jedi. Mir'ren stood uncertainly behind Nikita, obviously unsure of what she should say – if she should say anything, even.
"If we trust her, we could be bringing the Sith knocking on our door!" Canderous thundered. Jolee nodded, looking solemn. "He's right, lass," he said. "We can't afford trust right now." Their argument had won the support of most of the crew. Atton had been joined by Mission and HK, both of whom did not want anything to compromise their search for Revan (or in HK's case, 'Master').
Even Juhani and Mical looked almost convinced. Looking apologetically at Nikita, Mical said, "I don't think we should risk having another Kreia." Nikita drew back, the name like a slap to the face. Atton glowered at Mical for his tactless maneuver, but said nothing as he and Juhani edged towards the opposition.
Bastila was losing ground fast with her 'trust the Jedi as a Jedi' argument, so Carth stepped in. "Look," he said flatly. "It's not a matter of trust right now. It's a matter of whether she can help us find Revan. And right now, she can, because I doubt any of us know anything about ancient lovers."
The hubbub quieted down at that. All eyes turned to the slight Jedi, who blinked at them nervously. Finally, Mir'ren swallowed and said softly, "I'm not asking you to trust me. I'm asking you the let me help find her."
Canderous stared at her, his face somehow even more imposing without his Mandalore helmet. Slowly, he nodded his consent. With his capitulation, the rest of the opposition agreed too, welcoming Mir'ren to what Mission dubbed "Operation Rescue Revan."
Bastila seemed overjoyed at having another Jedi of 'proper beliefs' on board. Mir'ren quietly offered to teach Mical all she knew about Jedi histories, much to the younger man's delight. Slowly but surely, the crew dispersed, Mir'ren melding in among them. Soon just Atton, Carth and Nikita were left in the hold.
"Well, it's my shift, so I better get to the cockpit," Carth said awkwardly, slinking off before Nikita could make him stay. She and Atton stood at opposite sides of the room, looking askance at one another.
"'Kita…" he sighed. She tensed at the pet name for her. "'Kita, what are we?" She blinked at him. "We're humans… Jedi… what answer are you looking for?" she asked, playing nervously with a piece of her blonde hair.
"No, I mean what are we?" Atton asked, waving his hands at the two of them. In a few short strides he crossed the room, so he was looking right into Nikita's eyes from his eight inches above her. "What are we, the two of us? Are we master and student? Friends? Or are we…" As Nikita made to take a tiny step back, he caught her hand in his bigger one. His brown eyes looked directly into her green ones, asking for an answer.
Nikita opened her mouth to speak, but paused. What could she say? Tell him to let her go? Lie to him and tell him she felt nothing for him? Or open her heart to him, knowing all the while that one day it could destroy them both?
Atton's gaze burned into her. Finally, she moved her other hand to rest on top of the one gripping her right hand. Looking down at their interwoven fingers, she murmured, "I… I care for you more that anyone else on this ship. Can that be enough?"
To her surprise, Atton's other hand moved to jerk her chin up to face him again. Just as quickly, the rough fingers became soft. "No, it's not," he growled. "I don't want Jedi cryptics anymore, 'Kita. Now just tell me what we are, please." His eyes still gave her the softness that she loved when it appeared, the one she couldn't turn away from.
She blinked, feeling the tears pricking at the corner of her eyes again. "Atton…" she whispered. "I…" She paused again, so unsure, so uncertain of herself. What was wrong with her? Normally she was so confident, trusting herself and her instincts to handle whatever life threw at her. But this… this was out of her league. It was one thing she had never experienced. It was new territory, and it scared her.
"I…" she choked, feeling the first of the tears begin to slip out of the corner of her eye. She felt his thumb brush her cheek, spreading the moisture between them. "I don't know," she whispered. "I can't tell."
The softness in his eyes grew angrier. His hold on her hands tightened. "Damn it, 'Kita, I'll make you able to tell!" he spat. The hand on her chin slid around to the back of her neck, and Atton pulled her towards him as he bent to kiss her.
The shock of his lips on hers momentarily stunned her; it was like someone had hooked her up to an electric circuit. She gasped against his soft mouth, and pulled away suddenly. She retreated towards the hall to the cockpit, fingers brushing her lip.
Atton stared at her, angry and hurt. "I guess that answers the question, then," he said bitterly, turning to go. "No!" Nikita cried, unable to see him walk away from her like that. He looked at her, waiting. She racked her brain for the right words. "I feel… too much. It will hurt us both," she said brokenly, and flew to the cockpit.
---
Mir'ren wandered around the ship, her pale hand running against the cool metal. It's not much, she thought, but it's certainly better than staying on Nar Shaddaa with nothing to do. She had just finished talking with Bastila, tactfully leaving out her involvement in the Wars to earn the trust of the stuffy Jedi.
Now she was looking for Mical, going to fulfill her promise of telling him about all the history she knew. The clue 'an ancient lover' was certainly something that would get the boy to thinking. Though, Mir'ren noted to herself, it might just be a taunt.
It was clear the boy was besotted with the Exile, just as it was equally clear that the younger pilot claimed her. Mir'ren herself was curious to see who Nikita Vaas preferred, though she already suspected it was the pilot. She didn't exactly approve of the little love triangle, but she wasn't one to talk – she had been married, after all.
As she strode past the main hold, movement and lowered voices caught her eyes and ears. She glanced over, and raised an eyebrow at the heated but soft argument between the Exile and that obnoxious pilot – Atton? She couldn't remember the name. Shrugging, she proceeded to the medbay.
Mical was there as expected, busily working at the console there. Sidling up to his shoulder, she whispered, "What are you up to?" He jumped, but turned to her with a kind smile. "Mir'ren! I didn't see you there," he said. "I was just looking for more information on the conditions of some of our crewmates back on Telos."
"Ahhh," she said vaguely, looking at the screen. Comatose symptoms, gut wounds… she would have to find out more about these injured crewmates. "Well, I'm just here to make good on my promise. If you'll come with me now, I'll show you some of my databooks."
Mical smiled again, and nodded cheerfully. Mir'ren returned the friendly gesture, and strolled casually into the hallway, making for the rounded hallway that connected to the dormitories. She had made it almost to the entrance of the engine room when she heard the hissing intake of breath.
Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Mical staring into the main hold. She stood on tiptoe so she could peer over his shoulder at what had so hypnotized the blonde man's attention. She chuckled throatily. "Well, well, Exile," she murmured. "You are still causing trouble."
The Exile and the pilot were kissing in the cargo hold. It was brief, and the Exile pulled away, but something she told the pilot made his face glow like a little kid's on Christmas. Mir'ren could practically feel the anger and jealousy radiating off Mical.
Once again, she strode up to his shoulder. Kindly, she asked, "Mical? Do you still want to see the records?"
---
Carth had been piloting the Hawk by hand, like he had whenever there was downtime the first time on the ship. He liked to have something to do with his hands; it helped shut out whatever was eating at him for a while. Back then, it had been a combination of Morgana's death, revenge on Saul, Dustil's Sith training, and Revan's true identity. Now it was just one constant issue that had been persistently torturing him for half a decade: Where was she? Why wasn't she home?
His piloting had to shift to autopilot, though, when Nikita came zooming into the cockpit to fling herself into the copilot's chair. She hunched up in a little ball, her knees draw up to her chest and her eyes fixed out the window. Carth felt a wrenching in his chest. Her sister had done the same thing when her feelings or hopes were bruised.
"What's up?" he asked casually, pressing the controls to allow the ship to pilot itself. "Nothing," Nikita said to the window. Carth snorted. "Come on. You're acting like a child who got her cookie taken away."
She turned her head then to smile bemusedly. "My cookie taken away?" she asked dryly. Carth shrugged, and said, "That's what Revan used to tell me when she thought I was sulking on the past too much."
Nikita nodded, and returned to staring out the window. When she said nothing else, he resolved to let her be. Carth was about to put the ship back under his control when her voice echoed in the cockpit again. "What's she like now?"
He looked at her. She was still looking out the window, but a wistful look had entered her green eyes. Though they looked nothing alike, he could see her sister in the tilt of her chin, the set of her eyes, even the gazes she gave, though Nikita's came from piercing green eyes rather than shadowed brown ones. He realized, as he contemplated the similarities between two sisters, that it had been more than half a decade since the two had been together.
"She's… well, she's amazing," he began. "She takes the best traits of the Jedi – the charity, the desire for peace, and the kindness – and fuses it with emotion. Kind of like you, she thinks the traditional code is wrong. She thinks we need emotion. I guess that's why she has me.
"She's a fury fighting; she kept that from her war days. Don't ever try to cross those she cares about, because then any Jedi sensibility drops away and she kills with a cold fury. But despite that, she's more in touch with the light side than anyone I've ever seen. I think it's because she's seen the dark and was able to walk away.
"Beautiful, too, with a brain to boot. Brilliant at hacking and repairs and figuring out those weird dreams she and Bastila shared. She could destroy anyone with her sarcasm and wit alone. And on top of that, she had this way with people, of being able to get them to trust her with their whole self…"
Carth trailed off, looking at the blonde Jedi next to him. She nodded, a vague smile playing across her lips. "She's a lot like me, then?" she asked quietly. "When I left her, she was beginning to fall. She wasn't as much fun."
Carth nodded. He answered, "It's like Jolee said – you might not look alike, but you can't deny that you two are sisters to the core."
Nikita blinked rapidly, fighting the prickly feeling at the corners of her eyes that had become so much more common since Kreia's death. Carth waited for her to compose herself, and then asked, "What about before I knew her? Before she was Darth Revan?"
Nikita looked at him, puzzled. "She never talked to you about that?" Carth looked down. "We never had the time. She left before we were ready to reawaken the past. Or maybe she couldn't remember yet."
Nikita nodded slowly. Taking a deep breath, she said, "Then maybe the first thing I should tell you is that we're Telosian."
Carth's head snapped up. "What?" he gasped, staring at Nikita. "How could she not tell me this!?" "Probably she didn't remember," Nikita said vaguely. "I'm sure she would have.
"Either way, we're Telosian. I don't have many memories of me and Rev from then; the Jedi took her when I was only two. But at the Academy, we were inseparable. We were always in trouble for poking our noses where they weren't wanted… or for getting Kalam Rahd to do it for us." "Kalam?" Carth interrupted. "Turn the name around and it won't be hard to guess who," Nikita responded.
"Anyway, Rev always wanted to help, even when helping meant acting un-Jedi-ish. I idolized her. To me, she could do no wrong, couldn't be beaten, even. Kalam was totally in love with her, I think, but Revan had bigger dreams than leaving the Order to marry her second-rate friend. Vrook would always be yelling at us for meddling, but Master Zhar called us the Three Musketeers after a local Dantooinian legend." She looked down and said bitterly, "The old scow changed a lot from when we were Padawans, but Kreia trained my sister. I bet anything that's part of why she fell…
"Kavar came to train the two of us when I was thirteen and she was fifteen. Kalam hated Kavar, because Rev respected him more than she respected Kalam. He got in trouble less for helping up and more for not being able to rein in his emotions well. We didn't care, though – we just wanted to be better Jedi and help more people.
"That same year, the Mandalorians invaded. Rev became closer to Kalam again once she realized that the council didn't want to go to war. He believed in her, and so did I. She was my big sister, how could she be wrong?
"Either way, we had left to join the Wars when she was eighteen and I was only sixteen." Carth gaped at her. "Eighteen?! She took control of the Republic forces when she was only eighteen!?" he gasped. Nikita nodded. "And you were only sixteen?" She nodded again. Carth leaned back in his chair and ran his fingers through his hair. "You Vaas women are crazy," he informed her. She giggled. "Yeah, so said Kalam when Revan began to win the battles.
"She made me a general because she felt she could trust me. Between the two of us, we did out best to keep the Mandalorians as far as possible from Telos. We wanted to keep our… our parents safe." She seemed to catch on the word parents, but forged on.
"She was my very best friend. We were too much alike not to argue and too much alike to ever hate one another. She was my counterpart, and I would have died to protect her. We had a Force bond that was so strong she felt when my Force was ripped away from me.
"But it was only after it was gone that I began to realize what had happened to her. Because we were bonded, I thought we were so close that nothing could go wrong. But once we were separate… once she wasn't a part of me anymore… I saw what she was becoming. That's when I left."
Nikita fell silent. Carth looked at her levelly, and said softly, "I lost family for years, too." Nikita nodded. "I know." They sat in companionable silence for a while, then Nikita asked, "Carth, what's it like to be in love?"
Carth smirked. "Thinking about a certain pilot, are we?" "No!" she said hastily. "It's just… I don't know. It's something I've never…" she trailed off.
Carth nodded. "Well, I've been in love twice. Once was my first wife, Dustil's mother, Morgana. I loved her to pieces, and it killed me when she died. But…" he looked at Nikita with deadly seriousness, "if I had met your sister first, or even when I was married, I would have turned around on Morgana without a second thought. Even though she was only twenty-one and I was almost thirty, I would have done anything to make her love me.
"There are some things that just click. Maybe in your head you know that doing something for love is wrong, but in your heart you know that all that matters is making this one person – this soul mate – happy. It's totally irrational, but you love them despite anything in the universe that tries to get you to change." He looked at the Jedi. "Does that answer your question?"
"Yes," she said softly. "Thanks Carth." She rose from her chair. It seemed like talking had improved her mood greatly. "I'm supposed to be chatting with Mission right now, actually. Thanks for the attention, though," she added.
"No problem," he called after her retreating form. He turned back to the controls, his thoughts all of a beautiful, laughing, dark haired woman snuggling into his chest in a tree on Kashyykk. He was about to return the ship to his own hands to stop the ache where his heart should be when Nikita came flying back into the cockpit.
"Carth!" she gasped, her face wild with excitement. "Mir'ren's solved the first clue!"
---
The crew sat around Mir'ren, watching her explain her interpretation. "We found the answer in the databooks I brought," she said, gesturing to herself and Mical. "It was obvious Revan was leaving a Jedi clue, and there have only been so many Jedi romances in history. Combine that with the planets Carth would have visited with her, and you get…"
She pointed at the galaxy map in the center of the hold. "Korriban."
"Of course," mused Bastila. "Shaela Nuur and Duron Qel-Droma fell in love during the Great Hunt. Guun Han Saresh left them on Korriban, and they died there." Juhani put in, "And did she not save those renegade students in the caves, Carth?"
Nikita froze at the mention of 'caves', but Carth nodded excitedly. "And she found the body there of Duron!" he exclaimed. "We've got it! That's where her next clue is!"
"No it's not." All eyes turned to Nikita. They looked confused until she said hollowly, "It's in the tomb. A tomb of a True Sith, I think."
"Wait," Atton said slowly, "the cave? The cave where those visions came from?" When she nodded, he grabbed her shoulders. "You cannot go back in there," he said huskily. "It nearly killed you the first time!" She shrugged out from under his grip. "I have to," she said firmly, though the tremulous undertone to her voice betrayed her fear. "It's where Revan left the clue. She must've found something there we didn't."
"You've been in these caves before?" Mission asked curiously. "Mhm," Nikita answered. "They are not fun, let me tell you!" Atton and Mical both scowled at her extreme understatement of the place where visions had driven her to near madness.
"No matter what, we have to go, boys," she said casually, catching them both in the act. "I want my sister back, and if you want to stop me I swear to whatever higher power there is that you, Atton, will be cut up by my violet saber and you, Mical, will be cut up by the cyan one. Any questions? Good. Let's go."
---
It took them only a few days to get to Korriban, mostly from excellent shift piloting from both Atton and Carth. Nikita had been studiously avoiding him; she hid in her cargo hold hideaway when he was piloting and talked to Carth endlessly about her sister when he wasn't. She did not know how to react to his kiss still – only that thanks to Carth's explanation, she might actually have an answer for him that she wasn't sure she was prepared to give.
When they touched down in the Valley of the Dark Lords, a collective shudder passed through the six Force Sensitives on board. "I hate this place," muttered Nikita. "Hate, hate, hate." Bastila gave her a sympathetic glance – the first kind gesture she had given Nikita to date. "This is where you found Lonna Vash, isn't it?" she asked kindly. Nikita felt a chill as she remembered the beaten and broken form of the Master on the floor of the holding cell. "Not something I care to remember."
Bastila nodded, and said in an almost friendly voice, "I do have to give you credit for locating all those Masters… even though it did get them killed," she said, lacing the compliment with an insult. Nikita nodded brusquely before going to find Carth, Atton, Mission, and Canderous. She loved to irritate Bastila, true, but for the sake of the others she would attempt to keep the peace.
She was to take Carth, Atton, and Mission with her. Carth was an obvious choice, and she needed Atton for the moral support he had given last time she had come into these caves, no matter how awkward it was to be with him. Mission was her unusual choice. She wanted to take the young Twi'lek to impress upon her exactly what they were going up against before the opportunity for her to go home was gone. Canderous was going to protect the ship, a much needed necessity, while the others would scour the exterior of the Valley for clues.
She marched around the ship, giving orders and arming her crew, before gathering the other three and venturing out of the ship. They were greeted with the usual arid temperature of the planet; Nikita could practically feel her skin cracking with dryness.
"Geez," said Mission grumpily, "No wonder the Sith are all… cracky. This climate would kill anyone's skin." Nikita laughed, the sound echoing strangely in the silent valley. "Well then, the fast we go the faster we can get you some moisturizer," she teased, Mission's laugh joining her own as the two strode up the hill towards the Sith Academy. They were flanked by Carth and Atton, both of whom were taking this much more seriously. They were well armed; Mission with a vibroblade, Niktia with her two lightsabers, Carth with his blasters and Atton with a deadly combo of both his orange blade in his right hand and a blaster in the other. Nikita was taking no chances of another surprise like Sion showing up. That had been miserable luck.
Nikita could feel the dark side pressing on her wound like dirt into a cut – pain coupled with the temptation to press harder to stop the pain. She concentrated all of her belief in the light into the dark like a medpac, letting her assurance that she would not fall shut out the pain. As they approached the cave, she felt something new; a faint whisper of voices in her head, like ghosts.
She glanced at Atton, whose furrowed brow told her that he might hear it too. "The voices?" she asked casually. Atton nodded once, and said, "Playing pazaak." She shared a smile with him, then said out loud, "Flip first card, it's 7, flip another that's 10, add the plus two card to make nineteen…"
Mission and Carth watched the little exchange with expressions caught somewhere between curiosity and concern for their sanity. Nikita gave them a quick, "Force user thing," brushoff, and they entered the Shyrak cave.
It was exactly as it had been several weeks ago – cold, dark, and practically leaking dark side energy from the walls. Nikita crossed her arms tightly across her chest. "I hate this place. With a passion," she informed them.
"Ugh, I can see why," said Mission. "It feels… wrong. Like, sour, almost." Nikita nodded. "This is why we don't go to the Dark Side; imagine feeling this all the time!" she laughed, attempting to make humor to stave off the pain the excess of dark energy was causing her.
Slowly, they moved through the cave, scouring the area for clues of Revan. Finding nothing in the tunnels, they determined it was time to go towards the tomb. Nikita walked at the head of their group as they approached the bridge, Atton at her shoulder.
"You holding up all right?" he asked. She nodded, not trusting her voice. Atton slipped his blaster into its holster and took her wrist. "I'm here whenever you need me, 'Kita," he murmured. "Know that, ok?"
She met his intense gaze, then nodded once. She gave him a tiny smile. Then she turned her head and focused her gaze on the pulsating Dark energy in the corner of the cavern. Carth and Mission followed her stare, one hissing a breath and the other gasping. "Is that…?" Mission whispered, and got a tight "yes" in reply. Slowly, Nikita began to move towards it, clenching her jaw against the hurt and temptation it offered.
Breaking into a run, she sprinted through the concentrated pocket of Dark energy to minimize the effects. Though she burst through it quickly, the pain still left her doubled over in agony and gasping for air as the others followed her. Atton rushed to her side, considerably less affected than she. "Whoa, easy there, sweets," he said, gripping her shoulder and straightening her up. "You'll be ok for now." "Yes, I'm fine now. I can hold up through the tomb," she said vacantly, concentrating on shutting out the pain.
Fully straightening up, she walked forward, eyes darting all over the tomb walls for a trace of her sister's legacy. The others exchanged a glace, then Mission shrugged and tripped off after the former Exile. The two men followed her, uneasy about this tomb.
Nikita paused as she entered the first room. She had conquered the visions of the tomb and the demons of her past, but what of the others? Would the numbers mean only one would be affected at once? She prayed so.
Opening the door, she walked cautiously into the room ahead of her companions. When no visions intercepted her, she turned and called, "Mission, walk forward. Just you."
The Twi'lek looked confused, but comlied. Almost at once her body grew rigid, and Nikita knew the tomb visions had her in their grasp. "Mission!" Carth bellowed, and went to grab her. "No!" Nikita shouted, slamming him away. "Don't touch her. Move past before the visions get you too. You should only have to suffer once apiece." The deadly seriousness in her tone got him to obey, he and Atton moving behind her.
They waited for what seemed an eternity in silence, watching Mission's face contort with whatever pains the vision was causing her. Occasionally, she would talk. "No, Griff, please… I won't! I won't! Don't make me!... No, Z!!!" The words tore at Nikita's ears as she watched the young girl suffer massive emotional pain.
Finally, Mission let out a strangled gasp and dropped to her knees. Nikita rushed forward and grabbed her arm, sending a strengthening jolt of Force through her. Mission looked at her gratefully, then murmured, "This place… makes you face… you demons, doesn't it?" Nikita nodded, and helped Mission to her feet. "I'm sorry," she said to the younger girl, who promptly shook her head. "Don't be. I've made peace with them, I think," Mission told her, and began to poke around the room for signs of Revan.
"Call it a crazy hunch, but I'm gonna guess Revan hid her datapad at the end of the tomb to try and stop people from finding it, huh?" Atton drawled. Nikita glanced at him, and admitted, "Probably. Which means each of you will have to face something you need to defeat." The two men stiffened, but nodded and followed her into the next hallway.
When they stopped at the door, Nikita turned to them both. "Ok, who wants to go next?" she said animatedly. At the same moment, Carth and Atton pointed at the other. Mission and Nikita laughed, then Mission drew out a flat stone. She answered Nikita's inquisitive look with "it's from Taris" before turning back to the men. "Marked side, Carth goes, unmarked, Atton does!"
Four sets of eyes watched the smooth rock rise and fall back into Mission's palm. Slapping it on her arm, she peeked under her outstretched fingers and called out, "Carth!" He groaned, but stepped forward to open the tomb door. Nikita surveyed the room with recognition – it was where she had made the choice to disable the mines for her troops rather than risk their deaths.
Pacing ahead of them, Carth froze halfway across the bridge. Unlike Mission, he did not remain static. His eyes glazed over, but he stumbled forward. "Morgana?" the name fell from his lips. Nikita stiffened, unsure of what this meant.
Carth cried out, cradling something they could not see. "Too late, too late… What? Not Morgana…? No. NO! Revan, no!" The last two words ripped from his throat. "Didn't stop you, no, please, I love you, no…" Nikita put a hand to her mouth as Carth howled like a wounded animal. He rocked whatever he thought he was holding back and forth, sobbing. But then it seemed like he was listening to something. The sobs subsided, bit by bit. Slowly, his arms uncurled, and Nikita could have sworn she saw him lay a shadow down.
Carth rose to his feet, suddenly totally calm. Calm, that is, until his eyes unglazed and he snapped back to reality. He gasped, clutching at his chest, eyes wheeling all over the room until they alighted on his companions. He nodded to himself, then motioned for them to follow. They complied.
Atton dragged at the back of the pack, obviously reluctant to face his own inner demons. Nikita fell back to walk with him. "Nervous?" she asked, touching his hand.
He took her hand in his, and answered, "Not for myself. For you all." When she looked at him in confusion, he added darkly, "My demons are eviler than most." Nikita reflected on his past, then nodded. She had a hunch as to what demon he would be facing.
The third tomb door loomed. Nikita felt a prick of anticipation at her neck. This was where she had faced off with the vision of Kreia. That nightmare scenario had haunted her for weeks. Unable to bring herself to kill Kreia and refusing to turn on her friends, the visions of them had started up a haunting mantra of "Apathy is death" before all of them attacked her. That little scenario had caused her to wake up screaming for days afterwards, looking around wildly to make sure she could see Mira and Visas safely asleep. Nikita really didn't want to see Atton battling his demons in this room at all.
However, she pressed forward, opening the door and gesturing for Atton to walk forward. He walked into the room slowly, each step testing whether this would be where the vision took him. Nikita watched, figuring his battle would be about the Jedi woman he loved and destroyed.
She winced as the vision took him, eyes glazing over so they were almost white. He didn't move, but his voice rang through the silent chamber.
"You're kidding… you have to be… you don't mean that, sweets, don't do this to yourself…" With a start, Nikita realized he was talking about her. "Dark Side doesn't suit you," he continued, his voice a weak attempt at humor. "Wait… what do you mean, my fault? I follow you, not the other way around…"
Atton's voice became raw with pain. "I left that part of myself behind, like you told me to… Don't you dare say that old witch was right! Don't do this, 'Kita!"
He dropped to his knees, howling, "I didn't do this to you, dammit! I'm supposed to save you! You're killing yourself!" Nikita squeezed her eyes shut. So that was Atton's dark demon. He was afraid of his inner darkness corrupting her, and being unable to save her from herself.
Suddenly, Atton grew quieter. He looked up, seemingly looking at Nikita, though she knew it must be the vision. "What?" he whispered. "You think I want to be a monster, like you?" He rose unsteadily to his feet, gripping his lightsaber so tightly his knuckles were white. "I can't redeem you, 'Kita, but I can end this now!" He shouted the last word, and lunged forward, igniting his orange blade as he moved.
Nikita had time to comprehend one though (Atton thinks I'm the vision!) before she parried away his attack with her twin sabers, whipping them out so fast she knocked Atton aside. "Snap out of it!" she shrieked, parrying his renewed attacks. "Atton, it's just a vision, I haven't fallen!" His eyes bored into hers, the ghostly whiteness of the vision making him seem crazed. Carth and Mission moved to attack, but Nikita called, "Don't hurt him! He's not himself, just let the vision end!" Returning her attention back to the man charging her, she screamed, "Atton, please!"
"I can't save you anymore!" Atton bellowed at her as he swung his blade high. In the momentary pause before it fell, Nikita deactivated and dropped her cyan saber and slapped him across the face.
Almost instantaneously, his eyes snapped back to their normal warm brown. He looked at her terrified face, her right hand still holding her violet lightsaber. Trailing his eyes upward, he saw his own hovering only a foot above her head.
Slowly, he lowered the lightsaber to his side, and deactivated it. As soon as Nikita had done the same with hers, he crushed her to his chest. "Frack, 'Kita, I'm so sorry," he murmured into her hair. Inhaling the alcohol-and-blaster-burn smell of his jacket, she asked, "Are your demons defeated?"
He drew back from her to look her in the eyes. Then he leaned forward and kissed her forehead, sending a fiery blush up her neck. "Yeah, they are," he answered, before striding towards the room's exit. Embarrassed, Nikita hastily picked up her lightsabers and hurried after him.
Mission sighed. "You and Rev all over again, huh?" she asked Carth. "Yep," he said grimly, and followed the two Jedi out of the room.
Nikita slowed as she approached the last chamber. She had a itching feeling at the back of her mind that this room would expose the one fear all of them possessed right now. It was one of the ones that had been eating at her even since she read Revan's account of the True Sith corruption, about how she and Malak had been led on by them.
And as the door slid open and the dark haired woman prowled from the shadows, Nikita knew she had guessed right. Then fear or Revan's fall was walking towards them with a smirk on her once-beautiful face.
"Rev?" She heard the question fall from Carth's lips like a choke. She knew he could see as plainly as she could the cracked skin and amber eyes marking one's fall to the Dark Side on her sister's face. "Hello, flyboy," the quasi-Revan purred. "Did you miss me?"
Nikita glanced over her shoulder at her companions. Mission's face was one of terrified understanding, while Atton's was all aggression. Carth, however, was looking at her sister in endless hurt. "What happened to you, beautiful?" the admiral whispered.
Revan's smirk grew and she flung out her arms in an excited gesture. "Why, I'm Queen of the True Sith!" she exclaimed with false glee. Her childlike mood suddenly stopped, and she glared at them with a type of ferocity Nikita hadn't seen since she confronted Revan to tell her she was leaving the army. "You all want to stop me, don't you?" the vision-Revan asked. Looking at their solemn faces, her mood swung again to pure rage. "Then DIE!" she shrieked, unearthing two red lightsabers from her robes and flying at them.
Inches away from Nikita's chest, the vision froze. Revan's amber eyes, which had been locked on Nikita, rolled upward to peer at Carth.
Carth stood there with his hands shaking, both his blasters smoking. In vision-Revan's chest were two holes. His face was a mask of pain as Revan stared at him.
Her face changed again, into a childlike pout. "Carth?" she said confusedly, her face transforming back to normal, before she exploded into dust. Nikita trembled in fear and sadness. It was the one thing they were all afraid of – of reaching the True Sith and finding it was too late for the galaxy or for Revan.
Carth clutched at his chest. His eyes were squeezed firmly shut as Mission murmuyred words of comfort into his ear. Atton glanced at Nikita, his eyes reading leave them be. She nodded, and began to comb the room for signs of the datapad.
It really wasn't too difficult. A flash of orange came from the shadows of a jar. Nikita ran over and called, "I've got it, Carth!" Instantly, the man appeared at her shoulder, removing the orange datapad from her grasp. She suppressed the ridiculous urge to giggle as she noticed the datapad was the same color as Carth's disgusting jacket.
He read slowly, obviously savoring each word, before handing the datapad to Nikita. She smiled to herself as she read:
Dear Carth and gang,
Well, it's really not surprising that I stopped here at least once, huh? Though it's probably not for the reasons you think. See, when most people think of Korriban as a Sith world, they're thinking of Ajunta Pall, Marka Ragnos, Naga Sadow… or Ludo Kressh, whose lovely death room we are standing in right now. But it reality, this is where the True Sith species began.
I've spent almost two weeks here, reading ancient inscriptions in these tombs. From what I can understand, the Sith originated here before the first fallen Jedi came. By that point, their empire was already expanding out beyond known space, and so the Modern Sith (like Malak) took Korriban as their stronghold. I'm figuring from the lack of True Sith writings after that time that Korriban became just another planet in their empire, a fringe world.
Anyway, from all these records, it seems like one of these True Sith rebelled and left the planet some 30,000 years ago and went to the Rakata. I'm not sure how he did it, but he somehow got them to launch that full-scale invasion of the galaxy. He was later driven off the Sith homeworld by one of his own, a king named Adas. After Adas died the center relocated to some planet called Ziost. See, that's the problem here. We don't know where Ziost is. And we can't exactly go rushing on in there with no idea of what's coming or how to beat these Sith.
Since most of these planets I'll be moving to are unknown to any save myself, I'll start leaving coordinates for you to follow, flyboy. If anyone other than you has gotten this far, then the next world will stop them for sure. Hope you remember how to get to Lehan, better known to me as RakataLand! The Elders will only answer to me or to you SPECIFICALLY, so don't get yourself killed. Otherwise your travel companions will be left to die on that Forceforsaken planet. I think it might be nice to look for clues there if the Infinite Empire hit any other major Sith worlds I can investigate.
I love you, and really hope you still have that jacket. I'll be looking for it as my beacon announcing my knight (captain, or maybe admiral by now) in shining armor.
Yours until the day we die,
REVAN
Nikita looked up to see a smug Carth smirking at her. "Told you she likes my jacket," he said cheerfully. Nikita glared at the orange thing, and muttered, "Did the Council do something to your eyes, too, Rev?" before retuning to the datapad.
P.S. – Here are the coordinates, in case you forgot.
That sole sentence was followed by a string of numbers and letters incomprehensible to Nikita, who couldn't fly a starship to save her life. She turned the datapad over to Atton, and then turned to Mission.
Smiling at the Twi'lek, she asked, "So. What the frack is a Rakata?"
---
Do not panic, Revan Marlena Vaas. Do. Not. Panic. Revan chanted the words like a mantra in her head as she paced the little gray room. It was difficult to follow, though. She was in an occupation facility. And an IMPORTANT one, if the rinren was any indication. This meant it probably was armed to the teeth with equipment to subdue Force users. Fracking fabulous move there, Rev, she thought scathingly. Now I gotta walk through walls or something to get out of here.
She sat down with a flop, but let out a yelp as her tailbone hit something hard. Swearing as only a soldier who served the Republic would know how, she stood and looked at the offending object.
Revan gasped. It couldn't be… but it was! It was one of her lightsabers. She squealed and picked it up, examining it for damage. She thought the Shadow had snatched them both before she entered the cell, but… maybe he had thought she only had one. She had kept the violet one tucked away in her dark brown robes so she could use her free hand. The Shadow must have only taken the blue one.
Thank you, thank you, thank you, she thought up to whatever higher power there was. She knew she couldn't cut right through the wall, but maybe if she cut off a thin layer at a time, the Occupants wouldn't notice.
She ignited the glowing purple blade, then paused to see if she was swarmed with enemies. When no one came barging in to take her for Occupation, she cautiously put the edge of her lightsaber to the stone.
It cut slowly but effectively through the gray rock, and no alarms began buzzing. Revan smiled grimly, and cut away a five-and-a-half-foot long oval from the wall. It was a thin piece, only an inch, but it was something.
She worked as quickly as possible after that. Revan didn't know when the Occupants and Shadows might come for her, but she wasn't taking any chances. She'd rather not be subjected to Occupation, if she could avoid it.
Soon an approximately two-foot-high stack of something like gray granite lay beside her. She actually allowed herself to begin to hope. Maybe I'll actually get away. Then all I need to do is recover the Crystal Key and get to the Spire.
She had cut away two more inches when the sound hit her ears. It almost made her drop her saber in shock. She knew she had made progress with the wall, but she didn't think it had been enough to hear sounds. Least of all this sound, which was the last thing she expected to hear in a place like this.
She cut away another inch, and heard It even more clearly. Now there was no mistaking. Revan didn't think it was possible, but she heard the shrieking cries of a baby coming through the wall.
---
The pursuer stood on the roof of the Sith Academy, watching the Ebon Hawk crew scour the valley. This was too easy. They would lead the pursuer right to Revan, and then it would end. The pursuer would be worthy.
It might not be the shortest way to Revan, the pursuer reasoned, but it was certainly going to get the pursuer to her. Revenge would be taken, on both that Force-traitor Revan and her time bomb of a sister. They had both escaped the pursuer this long, but they would not get away this time. This time the Vaas sisters would die at the pursuer's hand.
The pursuer smirked, a wide, evil grin that covered the pursuer's whole face, as the Exile emerged from the cave with her companions. In her hand was the clue left by Revan.
The pursuer turned around and began to walk towards where the shuttle the pursuer had taken was landed, in the wreckage of Dreshdae. The time was coming.
God. This took FOREVER to write – twenty pages of MS Word! Plus, I've been doing tons of research as to where Revan left her datapads, and planning how the many characters on the ship will interact.
Hope you liked the little tidbit of Mir'ren's perspective and the AttonxExile fluffiness. And we are left with even more questions: Where will the datapad on the Rakata homeworld lead? What clues did Revan find there of the True Sith? Crystal Key and the Spire? And a baby in a place even Revan is afraid of? And most of all, who is this pursuer? Why does this person hate Revan and Nikita? So many questions… so little time for the two sisters…
Read. Review. Yellow will be up as soon as possible.
Michaela.