Though the entire premise of ff is copyright infringment, and as such a disclaimer is hardly necessary, here it is anyway.

Star Wars and all information pertaining to it is the property of Lucasarts Ltd. Knights of the Old Republic is the joint property of BioWare Co. and of Obsidian Entertainment. The short story both preceding and following this disclaimer is an unauthorized piece, spawned from my own imagination. As such, the plot and any original characters are the property of the author. Any money made from this story is against the consent of the author, who is not receiving one thin dime.

Chapter 2

She stiffened. "Before we do I demand to know how you know my name." She ordered the stranger. He let out a bark of laughter and swept his hood back. There was not a single councillor who did not gasp as they took in the familiar bald head, except for Bastila. She was engrossed with the stranger's blue eyes, which were focused completely on her grey. In an instant she understood. In a way, she had always known. "Revan."

Revan smiled warmly at her, and the council felt the Force aura that he was no longer suppressing. Visas, who perceived everything through the Force, was even mildly intoxicated by it. But it seemed that a little bit of Carth had rubbed off on Bastila and she refused to further acknowledge her one-time lover, instead pressing a button on the armrest of her chair. There was a pause, and a tall rusty red protocol droid ambled through the door.

"Statement: HK-47 is ready to serve." The droid intoned.

"HK-47, identify organic sentients within this room." Bastila commanded, apparently she was the droid's master.

HK-47 scanned the small crowd quickly before complying. "Observation: My sensors indicate the presence of one Iridonian, male, one Miraluka, female, and six humans, three female three male. Identifying." The droid paused. "Bao-Dur, Iridonian male. Visas Marr, Miraluka female. Mira, Human female. Katia Mayin, Human female. Bastila Shan, Human female. Atton Rand, Human male. Mical, Human male. Revan, Human male. Statement: Master, it is a pleasure to see you fully functional. Reprimand: You gave the crew of the Ebon Hawk quite a scare when you vanished nine Republic Standard Years ago."

Revan smiled at his old droid. "Hello HK-47, I think I missed you most of all. With one exception." He threw a sly look at Bastila, who was rather unimpressed. "Well, am I me yet?" he asked the Grand Master with more than a hint of amusement.

Bastila huffed. "Almost. Droids can be fooled, but not everything can." Her gaze moved from Revan to a point beyond his left shoulder. "Jolee, can you help at all?"

"What do you want from me? All you young people look the same to my old eyes." A familiar voice emanated from the apparently empty patch of air. Revan whirled around, but couldn't see anyone. Bastila groaned. The voice sighed. "All right, all right I get it. You sure know how to pick 'em." Suddenly a human form appeared out of this air. It was unmistakeably Jolee Bindo, but he was almost transparent and had a distinct bluish tinge to him. "Good to see you on the other side of life kid." The old coot smiled at Revan, who was more than a little flabbergasted.

Bastila was impatiently tapping her foot. "Well, is it him?" she asked the spirit, sounding quite irritated with the cantankerous phantasm.

Jolee sighed heavily. "Yes, yes it's him. By the Force you'd think all your years of blind adherence to the Code would've taught you some respect for your elders." He grumbled, floating off to god-only-knows where.

Revan turned back to Bastila, arms open wide, wearing a triumphant smirk. Wearing a purely livid expression, she stormed past him out of the room. As she passed, she muttered. "Come."

Revan turned back to the council. "Wish me luck." He mouthed before following his lost love to her chambers.

---

Revan surveyed the modest room curiously. Materialism had never been Bastila's way, but there were a few interesting finds. Firstly the mask he had worn as a Sith Lord was prominently displayed on her desk. Second he spied a flash of black coming from her closet, presumably the robes she had worn during her brief tenure as Malak's apprentice. His observations were cut short by a hard slap across the cheek. "That was for leaving." He turned to see Bastila glaring at him.

"I deserved that." He admitted.

She slapped him again. "That was for not telling us where you went."

"I deserved that too."

Slap. "Leaving me behind."

"And that."

Slap. "Reprogramming T3."

"That too."

Slap. "Not letting Katia come after you."

"I did deserve that, but to be fair…"

Slap. "Pretending to care about me."

"I did no…"

Slap. "For leaving Katia to deal with your old master."

"Okay, I did…"

Slap. ""Leaving Carth to deal with Telos."

"With your help."

Slap. "Leaving the Jedi to be killed liked animals."

"Now how was I…"

She moved to strike him again, but Revan caught her wrist. "Your hand will get very sore if you're going to keep doing this. I've done a lot of things I'm not proud of."

Bastila wrenched her hand free from his grasp and kicked him firmly in the crotch. His eyes bulged, but he did not utter any noise. "Are you quite finished?" he asked, when he guessed his vocal chords were able to speak at frequencies humans could hear.

She nodded wearily and sank into the chair at her desk. "I'm sorry Maric." She sincerely apologized.

Revan sat slowly on her simple bed. "It's quite all right." He responded, his voice finally approaching normal pitch. "And call me Revan, please."

She gave him an odd look. "You came to terms with your identity?" she seemed slightly shocked by this.

He nodded. "That, or I just got used to everyone calling me that for nine years." He regretted the words the moment they left his mouth. Now she would want to know. Everything.

"Speaking of which, where have you been for all that time?" she asked him, doing a very good job keeping the irritation from her voice.

Revan pondered how best to answer her. "Tell you what. I'll tell you the story if you tell me what happened to the old crew." The look he gave her clearly conveyed a feeling of 'take it or leave it.'

She sighed. Bastila Shan was many things, but stupid was not one of them. She knew perfectly well that she would get nothing out of him until she acquiesced. "Well there isn't much to tell. Carth is an admiral now, he fought in the second battle of Telos and they gave him command of the entire Republic fleet. Canderous is still working on reuniting the clans, but he stops in every so often for a chat. HK-47 was damaged, but Katia repaired him. He and T3 helped her fight the Sith five years ago. Juhani and Jolee were killed in the purge. Jolee came back as a ghost of some kind, and does his best to help out. Zaalbar went back to Kashyyyk, and became chieftain after Freyyr died. Mission went with him, but it seems he convinced her that she belonged somewhere else. I'm not sure where she is now."

"And you?" he prodded. She sighed, not having wanted to talk about her own sorry past.

"I helped Carth rebuild Telos, and hung around Citadel Station until Katia pulled up in the Hawk with a crowd of neophyte Jedi."

"Neophyte Jedi?" Revan asked, eyebrows raised. The next half hour or so was spent by Bastila explaining to Revan everything she had learned from Katia about the war against the Sith Triumvirate, from the skirmish of Peragus II to the destruction of Malachor V, while he listened with rapt attention. When she had finished, he told her his story. He told her how he had left T3-M4 and HK-47 at Malachor V with the Ebon Hawk, he told her how he had gradually regained the trust of the True Sith, he told her of the many atrocities he had been forced to commit. Finally, he told her how he had betrayed them again to return to the Republic.

Bastila could only gaze at him in awe. "You were serious." She murmured, more to herself than to Revan. He nodded. "This is…This is a very serious matter." Revan nodded again. "You need to explain to the Council what you propose we do." Revan nodded again. "Let me call Carth, he needs to hear this too. I believe he's on Telos now, he should be able to get here in a week or two." Revan nodded a final time and rose, realizing that the conversation was finished. Before he could leave, however, Bastila stopped him. "I am glad you're back." She told him sincerely, reaching up to deliver a chaste kiss on the cheek.

He smiled softly at her, returning the favour. "I should go. It wouldn't do for the Grand Master to be caught with a renegade in her quarters." He teased, and then he was gone. As he walked his arm involuntarily rose to touch his cheek. What a day.

Back in her room, Bastila cradled her head in her hands. "What am I going to do?" she asked the mask on her desk.

"Forgiving him sounds like a good place to start." Jolee's voice suggested from the direction of the door.

---

Revan spent the next few weeks training the lightsaber skills that had atrophied during his absence. He quickly built a new lightsaber, two in fact, blue in colour. Equally quickly he had established himself as the pre-eminent lightsaber combatant in the Academy. He had even taken to giving lessons to some of the younger initiates. Conversely, Bastila spent much of this time watching him. It had been so long, she had forgotten how he made her heart race.

Soon enough, Revan's time came. Accompanied by T3-M4 he strode once more into the council chambers, wearing the new Jedi robes that had been provided to replace his own shredded set. The entire Jedi Council was assembled, even Jolee had rendered himself visible for the occasion. Behind the perpetually empty chair stood Carth Onasi, in his military finest, and a large Wookiee, who wore a sword on his back and two large blasters on his belt. The Wookiee's insignia identified him as an admiral, though lesser than Carth. Canderous had also stopped by, and he stood next to Visas accompanied by a tall Mandalorian in gold armour.

"You may begin, Padawan Revan." Bastila instructed him, reverting to official titles in lieu of a first name.

Revan inclined his head. "Thank you Master Shan." To the apparent shock of Bastila, he was quite serious. "Admirals, mando'ad, esteemed councillors, apparitions from beyond the grave," Jolee chuckled. "I stand before you today to warn you of a great threat. Greater indeed than the Mandalorians, the powers of the Star Forge, or of the great Sith Lords. I speak of the great Empire of the Sith, which has hidden in the Unknown Regions since the time of the Hundred-Year Darkness."

Here Canderous, the established Mandalore, interrupted. "If the Sith have been hiding for a few thousand years, what makes you think they would be a threat now?" he asked, expressing disbelief at the claims of his former Captain.

"Two outsiders, one calling himself sith'ari or Lord of the Sith, have recently taken over the population. The Sith themselves are not Force-sensitive, as these outsiders are, so they are worshipped as gods. T3, first image please." The tiny droid whirred and beeped before projecting an image of an immensely tall Falleen wearing a long black robe. His black hair was drawn up into a long topknot that draped over his shoulder. "This is one of them, he goes by the name Sith'ariMaleficus. He wields two double-bladed lightsabers in a unique mix of Jar'Kai and Ataru. Fortunately for us he rarely uses them. Next image T3." The new projection showed an even taller being, with two vertical stacks of two eyes on either side of his thin face. The being had a serpentine body, with four arms. He wore black armbands and a black tunic, edged in red. "Physically speaking, Maleficus's apprentice is even more dangerous. He is Hysalrian, but that is about all I know. He speaks very rarely, preferring to let his weapon speak for him. He wields a single lightsaber, along with a long staff. The staff seems to have a cortosis weave, and can become devastating in his hand. I never managed to catch his name. The Sith call him only taral, which is their word meaning 'he who protects.' These two have been slowly orchestrating the rise of the Sith in our galaxy, starting with the Mandalorian Wars. Their plans are near fruition, so they must be stopped."

The Wookiee rubbed his chin and growled out a question. Though Revan was fluent in Shyriiwook, a blue 3-PO unit he had not noticed before translated. "My master, Admiral Gorrhnak, wishes to ask what your plan is to stop these Sith."

Revan nodded, and T3 shut off his projections. "I propose to lead a small strike team of hand-selected individuals to lead an assault on Maleficus and 'taral.' This attack must be orchestrated to be completed upon the Sith invasion. When that objective is complete, the Republic fleet will be able to decimate the invaders with little resistance." He concluded.

Bastila glanced at Carth, who nodded, then at Canderous, who followed suit. "Very well." She finally said, turning back to Revan. "You are permitted to assemble your strike team. However, I personally insist on attendance."

Revan smiled at her. "Of course Bastila, how could you even think I'd leave you behind?" he looked at Carth. "Admiral Onasi, will you join my team again?"

"As long as I am permitted to bring my second-in-command, Admiral Gorrhnak." He replied with a grin."

"Naturally." Revan turned to Canderous. "And what of you Mandalore?"

"You were the only one in the galaxy who could best us Revan, how could you even ask if I'd follow you?" the ageing Mandalorian asked incredulously.

"And I, Proeliator Skirata, pledge my service to you, as Mandalore has." The second Mandalorian spoke up, bending down on one knee and clapping his right arm across his armoured chest.

Three other members of the Council now rose and made similar pledges. Atton Rand, Bao-Dur, and Katia Mayin all joined Revan's team. "Well, unless anyone has any objections I think we have our team." Revan stated.

"Actually sonny, there is one thing." Jolee mentioned nonchalantly. "The republic recently caught a Kel Dor smuggler named Lanzhou Urumqi. I have a feeling that you should take him with you."

Revan looked at Carth. "Can you arrange his release Carth?"

"I can try." The Admiral replied. "It shouldn't be hard, he isn't in for much more than blockade running anyway." Revan nodded in consent.

"Alright then, everyone pack your things and get a good night's sleep. We leave tomorrow morning on the Ebon Hawk." He instructed his team before striding out of the room, T3-M4 diligently following in his wake.

"Why do I get the feeling this is not going to be as easy as he makes it sound?" Katia asked, getting only laughter in response.

---

The next morning, Revan rose before anyone else in the Temple and departed for his ship. The only being on board was HK-47. "Good morning HK-47." Revan greeted.

"Greeting: Good morning master. Are we on schedule?" the droid asked.

"I have no reason to suspect otherwise." Revan replied, sinking into one of the chairs that surrounded the ship's navicomputer.

"Extrapolation: There appears to be something troubling you master." The infuriatingly observant droid commented.

Revan snorted. "Indeed. HK-47, calculate number of organic sentients in strike team."

HK-47's processors whirred audibly for a moment, activating protocols rarely used by an assassin droid. "Computation: my memory core suggests ten sentient meatbags, and my processor confirms this number. Query: What is it about this information that causes you distress master?"

Revan chewed on the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. "It's where everyone is going to sleep. We only have seven bunks, counting the med bay, and ten people to fit."

"Argument: Master, your information is incorrect." The assassin droid interrupted. "The previous captain of this vessel, Katia Mayin, installed a cot in the communications room. Presuming that our pilot makes his quarters in the cockpit, that leaves eight bunks for nine meatbags."

Revan frowned. "That still doesn't solve the problem." He complained to his robotic companion.

"Placation: Master, the bunk in the communications room is double sized." The rusty-red droid continued.

Revan gave his creation a sly look. "When did you become so devious HK-47? That's a magnificent idea." He praised his creation. He really was glad he had built the bloodthirsty machine. Further discussion of sleeping arrangements were delayed by the appearance of Carth and Gorrhnak, each hefting a large rucksack.

"We have the prisoner, Canderous is bringing him up." Carth informed Revan. As if on cue the burly Mandalorian walked in, clasping his heavy repeating blaster, leading in a tall Kel Dor male. The prisoner was bare-chested, revealing red markings all over his torso. In fact he wore nothing more than his Antiox breath mask, some sandals, a belt with two blaster pistol sheaths dangling from it, and a tribal cloth that fell from his waist to his ankles. His hands were clasped in front of him, locked in a set of binders that Carth quickly unlocked. Gorrhnak handed the smuggler two heavy blaster pistols and a vibrosword.

He looked Revan up and down. "So you're Revan?" he asked, sounding rather unimpressed. Revan nodded. Lanzhou snorted. "Pleased to meet you." He grunted, heaving his equipment towards the cockpit. "I'm going to be sleeping up here, alright?" he called back, not waiting for an answer. Revan had a sneaking suspicion that, if it possessed face muscles, HK-47 would have shot him a smug look.

The former Sith Lord looked over at Carth. "Speaking of which you, Gorrhnak, and Bao-Dur will be taking the port dormitory." Carth nodded and he and his Wookiee admiral made their way in that direction. "Canderous, you and Skirata will be taking the starboard dorm."

Canderous made some mental calculations. "Revan, there are three bunks in the starboard dorm." He reminded the Jedi.

Revan nodded. "When Katia arrives I'm going to ask her if she minds sharing a room with two big Mandalorians. So you're going to be bunking with either her or Atton." He clarified for the soldier. Canderous saluted, and went to claim his bunk. Proeliator came in shortly afterward, and was directed to his room.

Lanzhou strode past, ignoring both occupants of the main hold, on his way to the engine room. Following this, intermittent periods of banging noises could be heard from that direction. At some point during the wait, HK-47 wandered off to double-check his weapon stores.

Not long after the assassin/protocol droid left T3 rolled in, followed by Katia and Atton. The two Jedi were carrying on some sort of argument, which Revan quickly broke up. "Katia, on the subject of sleeping arrangements, would you mind if you were sharing the starboard dorm with Canderous and Proeliator?" he asked, as nonchalantly as possible.

Katia fixed him with a look that clearly conveyed that she thought he was an idiot. "Can't say I'd be too pleased." She responded coolly. T3 buzzed something that sounded like a laugh, rolling off to do some sort of repair.

Thanking the Force for the line in the Jedi code that read 'there is no emotion,' Revan raised his hands in an offering of peace. "All right, you take the med bay bunk then. Atton, you'll be sharing with the Mandalorians when you aren't co-piloting."

Atton nodded, indicating his understanding and acceptance of these arrangements. "Speaking of, where is my co-pilot?" he inquired.

"Trying to get a few more KTU's out of this infernal hyperdrive." The Kel Dor called out, not giving Revan a chance to reply. "I can't believe they call this bucket the fastest ship in the galaxy." Revan glanced at Atton, who rolled his eyes before meandering towards the cockpit. Katia, looking like she was trying to hold back laughter, made her exit as well.

Which left only Bao-Dur and Bastila. Personally, Revan would prefer Bao-Dur arrive first. It would certainly make the job of breaking the news to Bastila a lot easier. Fortunately the Force granted him a boon, in the form of a certain Iridonian Jedi Guardian descending from the top hatch. No words needed to be spoken, Bao-Dur just left to claim his bunk. That blasted mechanic always had been good at reading minds.

Now all Revan had to think about was how to explain to Bastila that they would be sleeping together, preferably not ending with him getting hit. His brief retreat into his own mind was, however, halted by a very warm hand on his shoulder. Bastila's, he knew it without turning. "Good morning." She yawned.

"Morning." He replied, slightly sleepily. "You want to put your stuff in your room?"

Her thin brown eyebrows raised a few degrees. "I have my own room?" she asked incredulously.

Revan shifted his weight uncomfortably. "Well, not exactly."

Her eyebrows lifted higher. "Whom am I sharing with?" Revan could not bring himself to respond verbally, instead giving her a nervous smile. "You?" he nodded. "You've got to be kidding me. Who's brilliant idea was that?"

"It was a group effort actually." Lanzhou's voice called from the engine room. Bastila turned back to Revan, fire in her eyes. He shrugged helplessly.

"Probably just someone's idea of a joke. Probably Carth. Or T3." He sighed, rubbing his temples. "Look, if it bothers you that much I can sleep on the Cargo Hold floor." He suggested, not sounding particularly pleased with the prospect.

The defeat in his voice softened her. "No it's all right, really." She assured him. Looking up, he could see the concern and vulnerability rolling off her like sweat. Instinctively he tilted his head down, and she turned hers up. Moments before they made contact a loud bang brought them back to their senses, followed by the speeding orange blur that was Lanzhou Urumqi being launched backwards.

The Kel Dor picked himself up off the floor and rolled his shoulders back. Glancing at his new surroundings, he spied Bastila. "Pleased to meet you." He greeted brusquely, but amiably. "Is that everyone? Can we get this bucket of bolts moving?" Revan could only nod at his new pilot's bizarre personality, though he was fuming internally from the near miss. "Magnificent. Hyperspace co-ordinates would be lovely right now." He reminded the former Dark Lord of the Sith before ambling towards the cockpit. Shaking his head slightly, Revan went to the communications room to plot a course. Bastila followed, probably to see her new room.

The bunk wasn't terribly obtrusive; it was pushed against the wall next to the door. A few minutes of mental calculations and measuring on ancient astrogation charts later, Revan finally joined Lanzhou and Atton in the cockpit. The Jedi was straight-backed in the co-pilot's seat, while the smuggler was leaning back with his feet on the controls. Revan wordlessly handed him the hyperspace coordinates he had calculated, which drew the pilot's attention. He sat up quick and began punching buttons on the dash. "Hold on." He warned, just before a mighty lurch knocked Revan off his feet. "Sorry, this baby hasn't been flying much. The stabilizers are a little heavy." Without warning Lanzhou gunned the sublight engines, sending the Ebon Hawk careening into the space above Coruscant at rapid speeds.

As soon as they broke the atmosphere Lanzhou started preparing all systems for the jump to lightspeed. "Okay, artificial gravity dropping. Deflector shields at maximum. Powering up the hyperdrive. Hold on Cap'n, and start praying." Before Revan could inquire what in the hell the blasé pilot was talking about, Lanzhou hit the hyperdrive for everything it had. It took the ship's systems a few agonizing moments to adjust to the speeds, far higher than what the ship was originally designed to withstand. By some miracle the thing held together, and the Ebon Hawk and her crew flew off into the blue glow of hyperspace.

So there you are. A big crew perhaps, but it worked out well enough. Enjoy

Mando'ade Mando'a for Mandalorians