CHAPTER THREE: IRRESOLUTION
No," Revan answered firmly. She was absolutely not taking Dustil as her padawan. "If I were to train him, it would be going against everything you've been preaching at me for the last few months. You of all people should know that."
"Ah," Master Vrook began, his eyes lighting up in the hope of catching Revan at her own wit, "So it is acceptable to forsake the rule against attachments when they restrain you from something you desire, but when you can benefit from them you hide behind it as your defense."
Revan fought to keep her expression neutral as she struggled to suppress her inner emotions. "Is it acceptable to preach against attachments then attempt to force one?"
"The attachment between Master and Padawan is very different than the one between a Jedi and Republic soldier," Vrook retaliated without hesitation.
Zhar interrupted before either Jedi's stubbornness could get the best of them, "Revan, we can only insist that you take him as your Padawan. The decision to train him is solely up to you."
"But why do you insist? There are a number of other Jedi that could take him. There is something you are not telling me."
Perceptive indeed. Vrook answered, "Dustil is a special case."
Revan winced at his choice of words. She hated hearing them before when the Council spoke to her on Dantooine, and she despised Vrook for saying them now. No longer able to control her frustration, her almond-shaped eyes fell into half-moon slits. "A special case?" Revan's tone was spiteful.
"Dustil will prove difficult, no doubt. The ideas embedded into his mind by the Sith won't be easily altered."
"Master Zhar is correct," Vandar interjected, "He will prove very strong willed."
They're going to tip-toe around my questions. Revan was beyond frustration, she was exasperated. She tried to control her anger and only with the help of Bastila through their bond did she succeed. "I would still like to know why you want me to train him."
"You're a redeemed Jedi," Vrook stated as if it was obvious. "We feel that you might have some common ground," he answered a little too smugly for someone who was supposed to be above such displays.
"Common ground?" Revan asked skeptically, waiting for an explanation.
"Revan, Dustil Onasi needs someone to understand his progress from a special perspective. You have witnessed the temptation of the dark side first hand," Zhar rationalized.
There's that damn word again. "I know I was an," she paused. " An unusual case and I understand why you trained me. You had no other choice, but why are you pushing his training so hard? He's already almost to the age where most padawans take their trials. You said it yourself. You don't usually take on old padawans."
"And as we have also said, what is better than turning an enemy to our cause?" Vandar retorted.
"With the way things are headed, Revan, we're going to need him. The Sith are making every attempt to rebuild their numbers and their fleet as we speak. If we back off now they're liable to gain the upper hand again. We must go after the pockets of resistance and keep them from rallying new supporters," Zhar explained.
Vandar continued, "With the destruction of the Star Forge and the loss of their Dark Lord, they were left in disarray, but with the Sith there's always someone waiting to come to power. Even though one tyrant may fall, another will soon rise. There are always two, Revan. One master, one apprentice."
She lowered her gaze guiltily to the floor. "And they're usually far worse than their predecessor."
The same had been true for Revan and Malak. Revan's wrath had been brutal, but not reckless. Every destroyed world, every captured city, every death had served a purpose and not been without cause. Even as the Dark Lord of the Sith, Revan's assaults had held reason, whether it had been to advance military goals, to expose a weakness of the enemy, or as been a sacrifice that must be made. Revan didn't desire to destroy life, but instead merely craved to control it. When chalked up to the senseless devastation Malak had caused, Revan's wrath was almost unrivaled. If Malak's reign had continued much longer, the Republic would have crumbled at the tips of his fingers.
"Sleep on it," Zhar advised.
"Yes, when you have made your decision come and speak to us," Vandar agreed.
Revan nodded. Sighing, she trudged towards Jolee and Bastila.
With things looking to Jolee's favor, he was absolutely glowing, but Bastila, on the other hand, was glowering. She was not a bit amused at the scene playing out in front of her. All the Jedi knew what the successful training of Dustil would mean for Revan, but she couldn't figure out why Jolee was against it. It could grant her a seat on the Jedi Council and give her the title of Master. It wouldn't be such a bad thing for her...if it wasn't for Carth.
"So Jolee, what are you thinking?" Revan asked as they headed toward the entrance of the building.
"Well my dear," Jolee began, clapping her on the back, "I'm wondering if you are actually putting thought into training the boy."
Revan didn't answer at first, mulling over the encounter with the Council. "I didn't initially. I thought it was preposterous and the special case analogy didn't help, but Master Vandar was right. There's already a new Sith Lord and soon enough they will once again be rallying supporters. If Carth is right they will probably stick to the outer rim, convincing people from little known worlds to join their cause and attempt setting up a base somewhere to train them. I know it could take years, but if we could find them now..." she trailed off.
Jolee smirked at the still scowling Bastila. "In the end it's your decision. But what is Carth going to think about all this?"
Carth treaded through the grass, now worn into a path by his continuous pacing. He was anticipating the moment the enclave doors whooshed open, revealing whatever fate the Council was sure to lie at Revan's feet. She had already spent the entire morning inside and he could only guess as to how much longer it would drag on. An hour ago he gave up patiently waiting in her room, and followed Juhani and Canderous to the enclave. Looking for any sort of distraction, he suddenly turned to Canderous, deciding to voice his curiosity.
"You know, I figured you would take off after the tour. What's keeping you around?"
Canderous looked up at the pilot, trying to examine Carth's reason for the question. The two hadn't exactly developed the best history during their few months as crewmates aboard the Ebon Hawk. In fact, he found him downright annoying, but Canderous decided to humor him anyway. "I told you that I'd follow Revan anywhere. Unless she wants me to leave, then I don't plan to. Besides, I'm kind of interested to see what the Council has in store for her."
Carth didn't know how to take the answer. He was well aware of the fact that Canderous cared a lot about her, but whether it was anything beyond friendship he didn't know, "No other reason than that?"
Canderous cocked an eyebrow, amused, but before he could reply the enclave doors whooshed opened. "Not for the one you're thinking of, Republic," he finally answered, eyeing Bastila as she made her way towards them.
Too concerned with his own thoughts, Carth didn't hear the Mandalorian's reply. If Bastila's smiling then things didn't go well. After a moment when Revan didn't follow, he became concerned. No one but Jolee and Bastila seemed to know what the Council wanted to speak to her about. He was caught off guard when Juhani inquired about Revan's decision.
Bastila shook her head, looking a little dismayed, "She would like to speak to Carth."
Juhani's frowning, another bad sign. "And still no decision?" he heard the Cathar question.
He had to know now. "Decision? What decision?" The familiarity of the words struck a chord in him as he recited the exact phrase that led him into telling Revan he loved her. After he came to the realization of his love for Revan, he conjured up a dream, a magnificent dream of a life with Revan beyond the Star Forge, and this wasn't it.
As he had stood there on the sandy beach of the Rakata home world, he had hardly been able to get his mind back on track to finish the journey they had begun. She loved him. He couldn't wait until Malak and the Sith would be defeated and he would finally get peace and quiet with Revan, but now over a month later, he realized that peace and quiet had never come. He also recognized the possibility it never would. Not while she was in the Order. Carth was afraid that he would witness the demise of his dream, that it would be driven under, stifled by the heavy hands of time.
Juhani looked up at him gravely, "That is best left for her to explain."
Carth followed Revan back to her room at the hotel and as promised, he asked HK-47 to stand guard outside the door to assure they would not be interrupted. Inside, he stood in front of Revan, his stomach tying up in apprehensive knots.
"Carth," she began without preamble, "The Council promoted me to the rank of Jedi Knight."
The news took him by surprise. "Re...Really? But don't you have to pass the Trials?"
"The Star Forge served as my trial."
"Oh." Carth looked at the floor thoughtfully, nervously rubbing at the tension in his neck. "So what is the difference then, between Padawan and Jedi Knight?"
"Basically, I'm now able to receive assignments from not only the Council, but from the Senate and the Supreme Chancellor as well." Revan turned away from him, moving toward the windows to gaze at the slowly setting sun. I can't tell him about Dustil, not until I've made my decision. But then a very Jolee like voice stated its own opinion, And don't you think he deserves a say? It is his son after all.
"Oh," Carth came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I'm proud of you, Revan."
He has no idea what this could mean for me. She wriggled out of his envelopment so that she could face him. "Things will be different."
"Well," Carth began prepared to make the best of things, "What does it really change? You know I would follow you anywhere." He once again tightened his arms around her, almost protectively, as if thinking of the danger that could possibly lie ahead.
"But what about your career. A promotion can't be far off. You've always wanted command of your own fleet and-"
"Yeah, but I threw myself into my career as a lifeline. It was the only thing I had to hold onto, it gave me a purpose. But now I have you." He rested his forehead against hers, grinning. "You keep me alive, Revan."
A lump quickly began to form in Revan's throat. I can't tell him, I can't. Her thoughts were a mass of flurries inside of her head, fleeting from one possible scenario to the next.
"TheywantmetotakeDustilasmypadawan," Revan blurted out, jumbling her words.
Carth stood back, bemused, "What?"
"They want me to take Dustil as my Padawan."
The words registered slowly. "Dustil as your Padawan?" It had been the least thing he expected to hear. On Telos, Dustil had conveyed to Carth his interest in joining the Republic as a soldier, but as a Jedi? Carth's mind was clouded with emotion. Mixed feelings of confusion and anger tangled his senses, making a very disobliging combination.
"This is what the Council asked of you?" Carth laughed mirthlessly at how preposterous it seemed. "Isn't there a bit of a conflict of interest here? I mean really. Dustil Onasi, a redeemed Sith, is to be trained by the same woman that caused him to fall into Sith hands in the first the place. A woman who only recently has proven herself redeemed."
The knot that had slowly been forming in Revan's throat plummeted into the inner depths of her stomach, wrenching with Carth's every word. What was that supposed to mean?
"Not to mention the fact that he is also my son." He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his already ruffled hair. "Why do they want you to train him?"
"I don't know. Vandar rambled about similarities between us and common ground," she looked into his accusing eyes. "I didn't ask for this! The Council insisted that I train him and-"
He gaped at her, astounded, "You're not actually going to train him are you?"
"I...I don't know," she answered quietly. Gazing out the window, she caught sight of Carth's riled reflection. "Why does it matter to you who takes him as their padawan? Dustil will be trained either way."
"I ...it doesn't matter who trains Dustil," his voice softened, "as long as its not you."
Revan strived to keep her emotions dispassionate, but failed. "And why is that?" she snapped.
"Why?" he asked incredulously, "Because of who you are! He isn't exactly thrilled that I'm with you." Carth inhaled sharply, trying to force calmer tones into his voice. "He fled to the Council for refuge and now they're going to throw him right back to the source of his turmoil." Carth was looking at her, but he wasn't seeing her. He was caught up in horrible memories of destruction, chaos, and death, the old, unhealed wounds of Revan's dark past. He saw the visions Dustil would see in her, the destruction of Telos, the death of his mother.
The source of his turmoil? "I'm not Darth Revan anymore, Carth." She whispered with a cool harshness. The words had cut her deep, piercing directly into the void that filled her past, an echoing abyss of oblivion that bled its contents into her soul. She clenched her jaw and a stony expression fell across her features.
Carth, realizing the harshness of his words, silently scolded himself for letting them fly so thoughtlessly. "Revan, I just don't know what to make of this. Ever since I met you that day on the Endar Spire, nothing has been ordinary. The moment you entered my life, my world did a complete 180." Carth brought his hand up to her face, lightly stroking her cheek. "But that was okay, because before you Saul and the Sith had already turned it upside down. You only set it right again."
Carth turned away from her, instead letting his gaze fall on the horizon. The cascading sun cast a deep orange glow over the city, magnifying his appreciation of the Alderaanian architecture. Never turning away from the magnificent view that lay before him, he continued. "Its just that between a padawan and their master a bond forms. There has to be trust, respect, and a number of other qualities..." Carth trailed off. "I've missed out on that with Dustil for so long. I guess I just wanted to be the one to help him get back on his feet." He sighed. "Is he still on Telos?"
"Yes."
Afer a long, silent moment passed between them, he drew his austere gaze back to Revan. "I don't want you to train him."
"Right," she replied almost airily. Turning sharp on her heel, Revan retreated to the hotel's gardens. After an hour of unsuccessful mediation and relaxation techniques, she marched determinately toward the hotel's cantina. She took a seat at the bar, ordering the strongest drink the bartender carried. As she rose her glass to down the swirling liquid, it slipped from her grasp and drifted slowly back down onto the bar.
"What do you think you're doing?" demanded a voice from beside her.
"What do you want, Bastila?" Revan grumbled not even turning to look at her. As she reached for her drink, it evaded her grasp once again.
"First, I don't want you drinking this stuff," She paused, glancing repulsively at a now hammered Rodian who had just downed his second glass of the liquor, "Its beyond intoxicating, the stuff is mind altering, Revan. And this is when the Council needs you to think your clearest."
"Yeah," Revan answered her voice carrying an annoyed intonation, "I've had about enough of the Council."
Bastila ignored the comment and sat onto the stool next to Revan. "So what do you plan to do?"
"I don't know," she stated, exasperated. "I just wanted to come down here and get a drink, but I can't even do that without someone intervening." Revan swiveled her chair away from Bastila's glare, but was startled when she found herself nose to nose with a familiar blue figure.
"Heya Bastila," Mission said as she stood behind the two, "Jolee is looking for you, says the Council needs to speak with you."
Bastila looked at Mission skeptically, "Now?"
"Yeah, he was near the gardens when I spoke with him."
"Alright," Bastila rose from the stool. "Thank you, Mission."
They sat in silence as they watched Bastila set off to find Jolee. After she disappeared out of the cantina entrance, Mission burst into a fit of laughter and Revan nodded her thanks.
From his seat in the corner of the cantina, Canderous watched Revan fiddle with the glass, gazing intently into the frothy ale. He knew she sought an antidote to end her plague of doubt and indecision, but the tumbler setting in front of her did not contain it. She sought answers nothing could give. There was no right or wrong, no clear-cut example; it was simply a matter of choice. A decision Revan would have to make alone.
But Canderous didn't doubt her ability for a moment, he deeply respected the woman. Hell, it went beyond respect. Canderous esteemed her ability to talk the credits off a hutt, to reach amidst in even the heaviest fighting to call on the Force to help them in some way, but most of all he respected the way she treated her troops. It was no guess how Revan rallied her supporters during the Mandalorian Wars. She had the charm of a gizka, the negotiating ability of a senator, and the tactical mind of a career soldier. Canderous didn't just respect Revan, he revered her in every sense of the word.
Revan had stood beside him when Jagi insulted him with that insolent challenge, and when he finally realized the reign of the Mandalorians would never exist again, she had reminded him that no race truly ever dies and to look back on all that once had been. Memories, stories, and traditions are passed on from generation to generation and become the legends that last forever. Canderous would just have to pass his on as well. He almost smiled at the reminiscence.
"How did she ever buy that?" he heard Mission ask. Throwing her voice to mimic Bastila's, she continued. "She used to always be about sensing deception."
"She's got her head shoved too far up the Council's ass to sense much of anything." Canderous said as he left his corner of the cantina to join them. "Your Republic boy is right. That damn Council is manipulating the both of you."
Revan didn't say anything, but simply stared at her drink.
"Your ship is ready," Canderous continued, "When do you want to leave?"
"Now," Revan stated decidedly as she snatched her drink off the bar, downing it in one determined gulp.
Mission turned to look at her, but wasn't too surprised. She knew this day would come eventually, but she had also expected Carth to be accompanying her. "Where are you going?"
"Telos," Revan replied, slamming the glass down with a thunderous clank.