-1Chapter 6: The Chorus of Furies
In a wave of sealed memories that had been imprisoned in the reliquary of his mind, Revan remembered why he was so confident in those dark days. He felt like grabbing Bastila kissing her deeply and dancing and singing. The somnolent depression had peeled away.
"Echoes!" He shouted at a surprised Bastila. He stood up and grasped her to him tightly. "My echoes." He whispered in her ear.
Before she could even stutter a question, Revan was gone and she was standing alone in the room. She sighed. He had left her behind again. It didn't need to be said that she had no idea what was going on.
She sat on the corner of the bed and felt of the soft sheets. Why was she even here? She was on a ship cruising the edge of the galaxy for no apparent reason. If there was a threat to be faced, she obviously would not be the one to face it.
-
Revan had the poor bewildered assassin droid by it's shoulders and was softly shaking it.
"My acting Generals! Who were they?"
"Confused inquiry: Generals, Master?"
Layers of frustration, accumulated over the last two years, overpowered his joy. He was so close.
"In the Mandalorian War, you twittering rust can!" Revan shouted.
"Obvious Statement: Apart from Lord Malak, you had a number of renegade Jedi under your command."
Bottling the frustration, Revan returned to his thoughts. "Malachor…it was at Malachor!"
"At Malachor V. Who were my commanding officers there?"
The droid did something very odd. It's head jolted to the side and angled strangely, as if it were searching for something that it should know but could not find it.
"Confused Admission: I am aware that it was said you sent your least loyal troops in as bait, but I am currently unable to procure the name of the commanding officer who led the attack." Shaking away confusion, the droid replied in a reassuring voice. "Naturally he was of no importance, since he was assigned to such a hazardous charge. Most certainly he is long dead, Master."
"Naturally." Revan sneered, looking off into the bulkhead.
Without another word, Revan turned to find Bastila. He found Darswa skulking around the corridor outside the dormitory he had left Bastila in. Brushing past him, he found Bastila still sulking.
He grabbed her chin and brought her eyes on level with his own.
"The pieces are appearing." He smiled comfortingly. "That always makes the puzzle easier. We need to go to Koriban. I have some ghosts to confront and then we'll see about the galaxy. We need to land on the southeastern hemisphere. You will see a depression many miles wide. Land on it's most southern edge but not on it."
She nodded subserviently, and walked back to the cockpit.
It was sooner than Revan had hoped when the ship touched the red angry planet. He felt that mad swelling of quiet power that the planet horded when the ship landed.
It was Bastila, who grabbed Revan by the shoulder, before he could walk down the ramp.
"I could go with you." She said quietly. Revan moved to say something but Bastila stopped him with a gloved hand. "I know what you will say. We still have that much of a connection left. But I needed you to know that whatever happens I could've been with you."
Revan closed his eyes. He couldn't speak; and what if he could? What would he have said? Why had she needed to torment him with that? Revan turned and walked down onto the darkening planet surface.
He focused on his surroundings. He couldn't say he felt much. To his left was a giant geographical bowl of rust colored sand. To his right was an uneven series of canyons and cliffs caught in the gloaming backlight of the Korriban sunset.
It was while looking at this unpromising death trap that he felt a fluttering presence. He could feel his synapses ignite and the midichlorians shudder. One might call it a signal, like a tap on the shoulder or a beckoning finger. Something had seen him, recognized him, called to him and now awaited him. There was no way of knowing what manner of force it was or how it's intentions matched his own. But for some reason, Revan did not know why, it made him uneasy.
Tightening his hand into a fist, he began to pick his way across the rocks towards that quiet presence. Revan expected to feel foreboding and anxiety, but no, he felt the absence of anything. As though the Unifying Force did not exist at all. As if something had slain it.
As Revan began to travel in the direction indicated, he began to see a sheer peak rise inside the canyon. It was in the fashion of a lone tower that culminated in a great spire. At it's base and in the floor of the canyon there seemed to be tunnels, pits and caves that could've been a city.
At the edge of the cliff, Revan stopped and surveyed the distances. A raw number crunch and then he leapt off the edge. He gently guided the fall from stray cliff faces and jagged rocks and decelerated so that he could catch himself in a crouch and roll.
The tower, much taller now, seemed more like a rust-colored blade. Brushing the dust from his robes, he started again. The shadows were gangly, long and deep inside the canyon. The air grew thicker as if Korriban suddenly gained an atmosphere heavier than Kashyyk. But as Revan continued, he found that musical notes could be heard. The sound of a woman singing with Opera-esque talent in a language unknown to even him.
It had words borrowed of the old native Sith, long since dead, coupled with the cadence of a waltz and old notes that had lost popularity decades ago. Whistles, like pipes, and beats like taut-skin bass drums filled the air. The sounds were raw instruments put to use by masters. The song of one-hundred-million strong in a whirlwind choral that an army could scarcely compete.
It was with a little terror, a little trepidation, that Revan walked closer. But somewhere inside, he felt a swelling of nostalgia that he could not place. And then, his name was mentioned in the song. It was cried out from those dusty holes in the ground. Then the voice began to take up the cry of his name!
Forms could be seen emerging from the tunnels. A mass of creatures. Some were Twi'leks others were of an odd reddish color, and unknown species. The Twi'leks formed lines, which the reddish looking creatures began to walk down. Odd reptilian beasts armed with spears stood guard.
As Revan cleared the last two-hundred feet, he noticed that they were all, every last living one, female. They were all singing joyously.
As the caves and crevices emptied, he heard the last verse die as an older woman left from the center column of caves. Her features reeked of elder power that could swamp any youth who dared challenge her. She had light garments and stripes of material draping over her so that when she moved it looked as though she were dragging a thousand scarves. Her white hair was put up in an impressive series of buns that made her seem towering and intimidating. Her features soften in an expression, not of love, but of relief and joy. Her voice creaked with age but contained power.
"Revan, It is with considerable relief that I see you now. You have changed so much I could hardly recognize you, either through the force or my old eyes."
Revan kneeled, it never occurred to him why. On the rise he marveled at it but came to no conclusion. The hairs on his arms stood up when he looked into her eyes. They were looking at him in some subtle amazement. She seemed to study him for minutes.
"Your mother is not here. But, yes, she is alive. She lives on Manaan, believing you will arrive to see her soon." The old woman sighed following it up with a sneer. "I think she chose to ignore your new found Jedi ideals."
"I am Jedi, am I?" Revan snorted. "You judge quickly. Who are you? Have we met before?"
"I am Ji-Anne, sister of the Lady of the Sith, Yelena. I know only the child I saw years ago and the most recent reputation you have made for yourself, son of Yelena."
Revan began to see the lines tighten in her face. He felt lines tighten in him as well. He felt his theories and hypothesis solidifying. He could see how the force collided in a series of carefully chosen directions.
"So we are kin, then." He said with a modest smile.
Revan watched the woman's ancient eyebrow raise in warning.
"Do not bring it to my attention, turncoat. Do not expect warm-heartedness from me. To me your are nothing but a black sheep in the traditional color."
"And yet I heard the word relief from you." He added.
She shook her head softly.
"Not for you, but for my sister. She has her hopes that you are the Sith'ari."
Revan reacted sharply. His ears tingled from hearing the word. His mother thought he was a prophesized god. Noting the surprise on his face, Ji-Anne nodded.
"Indeed. Surprised as I was, I see. I take it that you are not?"
Revan stood in silence. When he realized he was still on the spot his eyes flittered in embarrassment as he shook his head. Ji-Anne's face fell in obvious disappointment.
"I had thought…but no…" Her head rose with an exaggerated expression. The amusement of a Pazaak player that had taken a long shot that turned up nothing. "But what a thing it would've been if she had only been right. What a thing it would've been…"
Revan was on the point of agreeing with her when he heard a muffled scream from behind. On turning he saw Bastila Shan held tightly by a reptilian guard with a Twi'lek holding the hilt of Bastila's own lightsaber close to her head. Revan spun with fury, his saber flipping into his hand and it blasted out bright blue. He felt cold metal on his skin and looked down to see two brushed steel fingers touching his arm. Ji-Anne's artificial hand. Her eyes were wide in maniacal craze. She nodded.
"You will become the Sith'ari. I will make you."
It was not in a fit of intelligence or tactical savvy that made Revan strike a blow at Ji-Anne. Maybe it was defiance or love, but better sense did not win out. There were so many lightsabers that it lit the canyon. There were so many battle cries and so many attacking maneuvers all at once that Revan could no longer dissever one person from another. It was all one large rolling mass of Sith, enough to end the universe.
As he was bouncing attacks off of his own saber, he saw Korriban disappear and Onderon take it's place. A ground assault from the Mandalorians. The Mandalorians were far out of range and trekking through a low point in the dunes. Iziz was far beyond the enemy lines, and cliffs cut off the far right and the far left. A mix of republic soldiers and lightsabers charged the Mandalorian lines.
"Retreat to the high ground!" Cried a voice to his left, but he found his own voice bellowing over it.
"Do not! Alpha company! Preempt in the valley! A battalion to the left of the lines and one on the right! Don't open fire until Alpha company has engaged the enemy!" A barrage of affirmatives answered as they obeyed.
Revan smiled. He remembered the outcome. He gained Onderon back almost a year after it had been lost. He looked up to see a Twi'lek pommel him with the end of her saber. Smiling, he dropped to the ground.
His head swiveled to the right when consciousness hit. His body felt stiff and compressed. As he became more aware he saw he was roped to a column of rock. His mind spun. Had he been out for hours? Was he still at the tower? Not even sure he wasn't alone, he cried out.
"Where am I? What have you done?"
No answer came, but a cold wind. It laid bare his weakness and made him shiver. Upon looking down, he saw he was not only still near the tower…he was the tower! The great column of rock was the final spire at the peak of the tower. He could see nearly ten meters below him, a flat landing lit with torches. Bastila was bound and unconscious on the landing.
At first he thought it was only him an Bastila, until a cold gray female Twi'lek walked from out of a cave opening directly below him. Stopping dead center on the landing she looked shot up. She smiled when she saw Revan's open eyes.
"Eu fung!" She called out in a sing-song voice.
A rush of rhythmic voices replied. Soon the landing was full to capacity with all manner of Sith. Upon seeing their common garments, Revan had to wonder why their sect was so cut off from the conventional Sith. Why had they not participated in the political doings of the past century?
"He is awake at last!" He heard sung from the crowd.
"What do you want?" Revan managed. "Who are you?"
A drumming pulse rumbled from out of the cave. A great band occupied the landing while many cleared away to make room. The torches were combined in the middle of the landing to make a bonfire, that Revan could feel even as high as he was. Flutes scaled up and down while odd ivory trumpets were blown and in the background that maddening drum threatened to collapse the whole tower.
Revan struggled against the ropes and even tried reaching into the force, but found that the damned drum perforated his mind. He was still sliding and rubbing the ropes strands when he heard the hosts begin to sing. It was clear and beautiful like find a perfect stream of clear water. It was in basic and the words flowed so sweetly.
"In the Start of our Life
Long and far from this place
We sought the death of our master's dead race
The jealousy masked in our amaranth hate
That bears to this day in spite of their fate
Laughing and screaming
A wide-awake nightmare, Diseased and believing
In mourning-deceiving
Ever in motion and ever in grieving
And Darkness Decay, and Hatred held sway.
To Dissever our souls from our hateful ways
Shadows now descending
To join in the Madness, The song never-ending
Wounds never mending
Wretched in countenance, The fear now transcending"
Revan realized that this was a dialogue. They had answered his question. His mind raced to think of a new on so he could hear the voices again.
"What do you want from me?"
They began to dance around the fire like savages and sing once more.
"What do you want from me?" He shouted again.
There was a pause and then all resumed.
"Some say you have a brain of the force
Some say you have none
But when death stars your vision
We shall see what you've done.
Will you fade out like a star
Can you in the end
Survive the coming war?"
The verses ceased and the captors and their celestial/ethereal recitation ended in reverent silence. Ji-Anne had emerged in robes now more suited to the elderly head of a galactic tribunal.
Her hands, wrinkled and talon-like, called for absolute silence and stillness. Out of the corner of his eye, Revan saw Bastila tilt her head.
"You have returned to your clan, Revan. The Sith-Malai, clan of your parents, wills you to return to your tomb on the southeastern side of the depression. Among the remains of your teachings and the holocrons you find, you may find what we want of you there. If you bring it back with you, we will release you to your own devices along with your property." The old woman indicated Bastila. As she was finishing this last sentence, large poles boasting twisted blades on their ends were being carefully guided towards him. And as she uttered the last syllable in "property" he felt the ropes snap loose and his body stretched as it fell downward.
He landed on his knees in front of Ji-Anne. Her talons grasped his robes and hauled him to his feet. Grabbing his shoulders in a grips that would compact steel, she pulled him close and whispered in his ears.
"Your enemies are already on your trail. To this planet, from a galaxy away, they have sent a pilgrim with murder in his soul. He is here now, as you may feel."
Quickly she spun him and shoved into the cave.