-1Chapter 4: Our Lips are Sealed
Closing the door to the cockpit Revan related all that Bastila had missed. The madness of Linda Tru, of Aero-Kerre and his crusades in the Battle of the Secrets and finally of old Rolando. Bastila listened but in her eyes it could be seen that she didn't quite believe. She shook her head when Revan had told her everything.
"I would have known. Our link-"
"Is fading." Revan finished. Bastila bit her lip and clenched her hands. "I've noticed how the effects have dissipated. I have a theory as to why, but I'm not ready to disclose it. I need more information. I need to go to Falleen."
Shoving the hurt aside, Bastila spoke up.
"But what about our guest?"
Revan's eyes lowered in contemplation.
"He is important or dangerous. Yet." He looked up and shrugged helplessly. "I am unsure of his purpose here, I confess. But the force arranged this encounter for some reason. It is all part of becoming a master Jedi or a Dark Lord, is either letting the force direct you or learning it's tricks. We will proceed to Falleen and I will practice restraint against beautiful Falleen females."
The two of them chuckled nervously while Bastila punched in the coordinated into the Navicomputer and the Ebon Hawk kicked as it accelerated into hyperspace. Revan left Bastila to man the Hawk and strolled into the astrogation chamber to find the droids, but not the ambassador. HK quickly approached Revan and his vocabulator hummed to life.
"Objection: I would like to voice my opinion considering our recent guest. He is not to be trusted. Since he has been here he has tried several times to break into the Ebon Hawk's flight records until I had the trash compactor encrypt it. I would advise you to have him eliminated immediately. A task I am willing to undertake."
Revan smiled reassuringly.
"His actions are known to me even if his intentions are not. I am curious to see why he is interested in this vessel. If he were to be killed this would never become clear. So I ask you to postpone your execution."
"Hesitant concurrence: As you wish, Master."
"But I would also like you to observe him, discreetly."
The droid wordlessly nodded and hobbled off. Revan returned to the west dormitory and was relieved to find that Darswa was not there. With a wave of his hand the door slid shut.
Setting down on the bed, Revan found his thoughts returning back to Korriban. The thought that his mother might still live for some reason made him smile. She had been from what he had retrieved a harsh and evil woman, but she could bring to an end so many questions. His thoughts meshed and mingled for the next hour over various expectations. He would've chosen to go directly to Korriban, but he had only just left and felt the need to put it off.
Revan reached beneath the bed and retrieved a Moghra Emerald. It glittered in his palm. He seemed to realize what it truly was. It was a weakness. It was a pure hypnotic euphoric beautiful wonderful weakness. It was obvious to him that he could not carry one with him everywhere he would go. He rubbed it on the underside of the bed, slicing the tender skin open. As he brought it to his lips and tasted it, he realized what an understandable weakness it was. Anyone would be addicted to it, given the opportunity. But every addiction is just another weakness…just another forbidden fruit.
Revan composed himself and began an old Jedi relaxation tactic, a meditation of sorts. He arranged his arms legs hands and feet in front of him and leaned back in supine position. He slowly lowered his limbs to the bed while repeating an arbitrary resonant phrase.
The force was torn and chaotic around the ship, as if something was muffling it's direction and order. He felt himself swim along it's rampant lines of power and thought. He felt something covering his face and he felt his tunic robe disappear only to be replaced by thick heavy cloaks. He felt two lightsabers, one in each hand. He heard their hum and saw the red glow they cast across the eyes of his mask. A voice interrupted these realizations.
"You betrayed her! You left her to die!"
Revan's eyes snapped to focus to see a man with a vibroblade in his hands. His face was clean and regal, yet glistening with sweat. His eyes were bleary with choked back tears. Revan couldn't think of the name…the name. He knew the man… Yusanis. His name was Yusanis. The man looked down in despair, his voice calling out in sadness.
"How could you be so cold? She was all I had."
It didn't take long for the pitiful creature to evolve from sadness to rage. He lunged forward to inflict a high blow. Revan wanted to reach out and stop the man and apologize or explain to him, but nothing he had to say would matter and he couldn't control even his own motions. Revan brought his left hand up in Djem So parry of 4: the Saluting parry. Yusanis changed his lunge to a feint and dipped below the parry to find the other lightsaber waiting for him. The lightsaber tapped forward and knocked Yusanis on his back. He quickly rolled to the side to miss Revan's next blow.
Yusanis re-chambered his feet beneath him and used them to spring himself at Revan. The result was a quick exchange of blows that was ended by Yusanis soaring backward, grinding across the concrete floor of the Coruscant Senate foyer and crashing into a display of treaties.
Yusanis recovered quick enough to dodge a spinning saber and catch it by the handle. Having caught it, he charged. Revan drew a long side cut, which Yusanis controlled and brought it aside with the Vibroblade while stabbing with Revan's saber. The saber quickly slipped from Yusanis' grip into Revan's, while he disengaged his saber and took control of Yusanis' blade from him and disarmed him in a lightening fast bind. Revan quickly punched Yusanis to the ground and gave him two superficial wounds on the side of his head.
A voice boomed and vibrated from the mask. The voice carried cold death.
"You've lost, Senator." Revan lowered his right saber so that red reflected in the Senator's eyes and on his face. "It was inevitable. The strong take the place of the weak. That is how the galaxy survives. But I want you to realize what has made you weak! You were once as great as I. Fear crippled you; fear of loss. Fear makes weakness. Weakness brings death."
A fatal blow was struck and a groan issued before Revan's vision faded back to the dormitory of the Ebon Hawk.
"We've arrived at Falleen." Came Bastila's voice over the ship intercom.
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Revan walked down the loading ramp with his old cloak trailing him. He felt an empowering authority, as if the Falleen should respect him. However, from what he knew of the Falleen, they were not likely to recognize this.
The planet of Falleen was a world that felt edgy. No trees could be seen to speak of, and everywhere you look you saw stone. Stone monuments and statues, long roads and in front of the landing pad was a massive set of stone steps that seemed to go up for miles. The buildings were positively monolithic and gray. Between the gray city and the overcast skies, the only color to be spotted were the red furling banners and pennants with the various feudal classes and families.
Marching down the stairs were Falleen musicians fitted in their bleak tunics which corresponded to their vacant faces of perfect symmetry and indifference. Revan heard the band playing their clandestine dirge-like Buryata. The Buryata was probably one of the things that kept so many people from Falleen. It was a humbling, sneaking and doomful genre of music that is normally played polyphonic in ¾ time with a choir and the sultry stringed kurai with a prevalent dry beat of a bass drum. It is traditionally played while the musicians were marching to their odd whirling music. As a comforting welcome, the music was ineffective. Already it was melting the superiority and authority Revan had mustered. It reminded him how little the Falleen were to be trifled with, or could be trusted.
Descending the ocean of steps was a small figure that was bedecked in tight fitting red robes. He seemed to float down the stairs at what was not exactly a slow pace. Revan could see the figure was making his way to the Ebon Hawk. In his mind he cursed to himself. It appeared they did not intend to even let them speak.
The reptilian creature was now within hailing distance. Revan took the initiative and closed the gap with powerful demanding strides. The Falleen's features were sleek and his motions from his posture to the way he blinked his eyes was lithe and graceful, like some sort of poet of motion. His voice called out in a soft odd lilting intonations that belied arrogance sustained by patience.
"You are asked to introduce yourself, outworlder, and then leave."
Revan matched the man's contempt with some of his own.
"I am Lord Revan and have come to investigate into the conflict known as the Battle of Secrets."
The Falleen looked at him with some surprise and as the music of the Buryata faded, the Falleen brought his hand to his ear as if listening for some distant sound. He nodded once to himself and then motioned to Revan.
"You will forgive the rather cold welcome, Lord Revan."
Revan joined him in ascending the steps. The red-robed Falleen ascended the steps as if he could levitate. He did it with so much ease that he could turn his head to focus on Revan, who was nonchalantly looking ahead.
"It is quite interesting, your visit." He confessed. "You said the Battle of Secrets? But that is not a very welcome topic here, and, as I recall, was not regarded by the Republic as very interesting." He said the last sentence with bitterness. "Why do you wish to know about it?"
Revan softly chuckled to himself and replied quietly.
"Oh, but it is of great interest to me. The dealings of the Sith are always my interest."
"Ah, of course. I take it that you had nothing to do with it? But then, I forget, it would've been before your time."
The very last set of steps were conquered and the great door to the Grabeen port authority building was before them. The Falleen turned and bowed very curtly before he indicated the door.
"An audience has been requested of you by Heshorce and Resay, the Feudal lord and his Mistress et Grabeen."
Revan nodded.
"I shall be delighted to accommodate them."
"You will find them in the palace rotunda beyond this building."
Revan walked to the door, threw it open and entered. The disturbed and curious faces of a crowd of Falleen within the building were focused upon Revan. He ignored them and made his way past them all.
He came to another door which he flung open to reveal a courtyard before a great stoic marble building. It seemed the very soul of the conflicted genre of subtle minimalism. It was not modest in it's minimalism, nor was it profound in it's subtlety, but it was a confusing hybrid that could not decide if it was no-nonsense or mystical and shrewd. There were dignitaries that were wandering about the courtyard doing their best to make it plain that they neither worked nor cared. To look upon them you would think they were serenely lost morons that carried with them neither thought nor care. Somewhere in Revan's mind, he found them reminiscent of many Jedi he knew.
After he made his way beyond the courtyard into the palace, he was dazzled at the sight of more conflicted architecture. The furnishings inside were arranged to delight both the slothful hedonists and the dominating overlords of the city. Both extremes were disgusting unto themselves, but when combined they made Revan truly loathe the Falleen.
The rotunda was not hard to spot. It was a great domed circular chamber with a procession of great chairs arranged in precedence and a host of surrounding statues. The statues seemed to be important past leaders and figures. Two chairs trumped the lineup of chairs. They were themselves more akin to thrones and what's more, they were occupied.
Two regal figures were reposed in each chair. They were adorned in all manner of exaggerated pomp that was almost obscene and certainly unnecessary. Each figure was slim, sleek and beautiful to behold, and yet were painful to look at because of the unwashed arrogance in their expressions. On the right was Heshorce and to his left his honored Mistress. The both of them regarded him sluggishly, as if they were sedated and it took time for his presence to register.
"I am told," Heshorce spoke. "You are here in regards to the Battle of Secrets, Lord Revan. But unless you are on a mission of Sith apology, as I highly doubt, you are an ill guest."
Revan sat, with disregard to precedence, in one of the chairs facing Heshorce. He shrugged.
"I cannot apologize for an affair to which I was not party to, but if I came here for anything at all, it was for clarity."
Heshorce's right eyebrow raised.
"Clarity?" He shook his head. "There was no clarity. The Sith descended upon us without a discernable reason. One would think that if any clarity existed on the subject you would have it, not I." Heshorce reached for glass on the table at his right elbow and brought to his lips for a drink. After the drink, he continued. "Since you are already here, there are great many things I am curious about. I will submit to your questions if you will submit to mine."
Revan didn't like it. It sounded dangerous. He fully expected a trick question that would lead him into a trap.
"What do you wish to know?" He asked. Heshorce smiled as if the question should already be obvious.
"Where did you get the mask you once wore?"
Revan pause, dumbfounded. His head dropped in thought.
"You mean…my mask…?" Heshorce clucked his tongue.
"I cannot hear you, Lord Revan, you are mumbling. Where did you get the mask? It is not a difficult question."
Revan raised his head.
"I don't know."
Heshorce sighed, as if dissatisfied and bored all in one stroke.
"How evasive." He muttered. Not wanting air in the conversation Revan fired another question.
"Do you know a man named Aero-Kerre Rokaine?"
"I know no one of that name. How do you expect me to answer one of your questions when you will not answer mine?" Replied Heshorce, irritated.
"Fine then, Dark Lord Masekre?"
Heshorces eyes widened in what might have been anger and surprise. His eyelids, then, quickly lowered to mask these emotions.
"I find it very hard to believe, Lord Revan, that your intentions here are benign and are out of pure curiosity. Unless you are willing to make this discussion more even-footed you are dismissed and are to leave Falleen space." Heshorce waved him away with his hand. "I give you lodgings and a day to think it over. Until then…" Heshorce paused and then looked over to his mistress. "Resay will entertain you." Resay regarded Heshorce with a look of disbelief and disgust. Revan saw this coming and decided to put it in short order.
"I am fine alone." Revan said, curtly. Heshorce looked down at Revan like a king surveying a disobedient servant.
"I will accept no refusal."
Resay slipped out of her obviously comfortable throne and glided forward to take Revan by the arm. She lead him away from the rotunda to a room several hallways away. It's far wall was one large glass sliding door that revealed a view of an extension of the courtyard.
On the floor were two large thickly padded mats encircled with small silky pillows. In between the two mats was an ankle high table with various bottles, cups and strange foods. Resay went to one mat and sat with her legs tucked underneath her. She gestured lazily to the other mat.
Revan sat in the same manner as Resay had sat. He rested his hand at his sides and sighed. He looked up to see Resay's nonplussed face.
"Do you often have to do whatever your lord demands of you?" Revan asked innocently.
Resay looked up, startled by the question, but not offended. Her voice replied very liquid and sweet and yet not overly feminine. It had an intentionally sultry quality.
"It is well that the I have a lord to make demands of me. If not then I would not know what to do with my time." She cut her heavy eyes up at Revan, while smiling. "How else could I live?"
Revan chuckled softly. He could not help remarking how beautiful in symmetry and form was her face. It had no flaws, wrinkles or any lack of perfection. It was like a face that had been perfectly designed down to every green spec of flesh. He averted his eyes across the room. Bastila Shan would not trust him to meditate if he failed this test now.
"I lived that life, for a time. I did not find it so acceptable. I now live for myself and yet also for everyone else by proxy."
Resay leaned forward and began to fidget, pour and fill cups with different beverages. Her voice called out in a slow sensual counter argument.
"And yet I don't know if I could stand not having my palace and it's comforts, having only life to live for. It would be so prolonged and tedious."
It was at this that Revan found power to break the false attraction the hag was forming. He found so much irony in Resay's last statement he truly laughed. At this Resay looked disappointed and tired.
"Sometimes it is boring, but rarely. More often it is frenetic and hazardous. No offense, but it is your life that seems stagnant."
Resay slid the two glasses across the table, not sparing a grimace as she looked him in the eye. Her skin had become a darker more grim hunter green. The glasses she passed were made of a light flaky chalk-like porcelain. One of the glasses contained a thick black substance that smelled heady and rich of a dark potent syrup. The other contained a milky thin liquid that gave no smell at all
"The Pélievê," She indicated the milky liquid. "must be drank, while the Hussäe must be added a drop before each sip." Revan raised the Hussäe to add it when her hand rose up like a Phargmoghra viper before it strikes. "Do not add more than that one drop before drinking." She added sulkily.
Revan tilted the Hussäe and watched a single droplet of ooze cascade down into the other liquid. The reaction was a subdued change of color from a milky white to a creamy brown. The mistress hinted that it could now be consumed.
Warily, Revan raised the glass to his lips and let the liquid touch his tongue before sipping. It had a shocking dark taste that was slightly tart, but also deep and cool.
"Souvei."
She said, raising her own glass. Feeling his nerves rest at ease, he repeated her well-wishing. He felt a Falleen breeze sweep through the window aside to his right, while the sun dimmed a little through the glass roof. He watched as mistress Resay shuddered with a minor chill.
Revan himself felt the chill intensify as it began to run a course up and down his spine. He felt something sink and then he felt everything relax. It occurred to him at this moment that he had been poisoned. Even if the tainted beverage had not lent him a calmness he would have been so anyway. It seemed weak to think it now, but he had expected as much, and invited it with a tinge of curiosity. Why did they wish to incapacitate him so peaceably? What did they intend? The simplest answer was that they wished to know something they thought they could extract with extra methods.
He had to admit that, he felt a peace that even his Jedi ways could barely reach. Knowing that the dosage in the last sip was not enough to overcome a Jedi or a Sith, much less his powerful hybrid of the two, he doctored the Pélievê with another drop of the black goo and sipped once more. He noticed Resay's downplayed surprise to which he could only smile and tip his glass before he fell face to the floor, shattering the various glasses under him.