W/N - Let's look at some of the crew and how they see the end of the journey. We'll look at some of the characters from KOTOR II and set the scene for the final chapters.

The Cross of Glory

The Ebon Hawk – Day Three - 0616 Z

In the cockpit of the faithful vessel, old Bindo handed everyone a mug of caffa. Revan leaned back in the right seat and inhaled the heady aroma of the dark brew. Gods, it was wonderful and it brought back some of the energy and dispelled some of the pain from her body. The first sip was magnificent, full bodied and rich in flavor. Nearby, Bastila sat in the navigator's chair, quiet, seemingly numb from her recent experience; it would take some time and gentle counseling to bring her back.

Revan turned to see Jolee, his hand extended high with his cup. "To life and long acquaintances," he said with a wink. She almost had to laugh hearing that come from the 'grouchy old man.'

It had truly been a 'near run thing' and could have went either way right up until the end. Was it her skill, luck, or will of the Force that dictated the victor from the vanquished? Perhaps she'd never know. Perhaps it was better not to know. She took another sip of the dark brew, letting it warm her body. She cradled the mug with both hands, feeling the heat on her palms. It felt good. It made her feel alive.

What would happen now though? She was aware of who she really was and this would surely cause some stir. Despite her 'victory' she had a feeling that the rest of the Republic might not be so supportive of her. What would the Jedi Masters do? A Revan reborn might not be such a wonderful thing to have running around the galaxy again. She thought for a moment on the many that she had left behind when she rebelled against the Order. Master Vrook's contempt now made so much sense. Then, there was Atris and Mai-Lyn. Where were they now? Mai-Lyn had been one of her closest friends after Malak. Last she had heard, Mai-Lyn had vanished without a trace after spitting on the Order. Revan suddenly felt a great sadness, like a weight was laid upon her heart. So much had changed. So many had died or were lost in the tidal wave that she had unleashed. What had she done?

She knew deep down that it could not be undone by any force in the galaxy. All she could do was look to the future. She gazed at Carth and hoped that happiness would finally be theirs.

Nearby, Jolee was actually feeling pretty smug with himself. They had beaten the odds beyond all hope or reason. Indeed, it had to be the will of the Force. In his mind he saw the moment in which Darth Moritz' lightsaber had barely missed him and he knew that in some other reality, he would be dead. Well, this is what he had signed on for…excitement and adventure. He slapped his leg as he raised his mug to the others. He saw Padawan Shan force a smile and raise her cup to be joined heartily by the rest. Jolee took a sip of the brew and put his hand on Bastila's shoulder. He sensed the turmoil in her soul and seemed to want to give some comfort. Despite all of her dour moralizing, he had found a soft spot in his heart for her. He truly wanted her to be at peace.

"It's time for an old man to take a vacation. In fact, I think we all could use one."

Revan chuckled. "What, twenty years on Kashyyyk wasn't enough? Man, what a slacker," she teased.

Jolee grunted and slapped her gently on the head. "Oh, savior of the galaxy again…now it's open season on the old folk," he said, falling back into his old routine.

The Rakatan planet grew in the windshield and they all buckled in for the atmospheric entry. The altimeter kicked in and began clocking down as they passed through the boundary from space.

"Much easier on the stomach this time, fly boy," Jolee told Carth. The Captain gave him a warm nod in response – the old man was in a downright jovial mood – for Jolee. Just a few short months ago, he could not have imagined in his wildest, Force induced delusions that he would be part of a team to defeat the Dark Lord of the Sith. Truly, the river that was the Force had swept him to the ocean and all he could do was ride its current. All he could do now was be happy and enjoy the moment, for the moment was all that they had.

In the pilot's seat, the Captain smirked at Jolee's insinuation that his flying skills were not up to snuff. He had to admit that he had done some of his best work in the last few months. Once the buffeting had died away, Carth reached up and changed the settings of the life support system for an oxygen environment. He took a deep breath, enjoying the taste of the air. Without the dark cloud of Sith conquest hanging over him he felt alive and every nerve in his body resonated with joy.

He could not believe that they were here at this moment and he pinched himself to show that it was all real. Part of him kept thinking that he would awake and find Malak had destroyed the Republic and that Revan was dead. He looked over to see her still alive and gazing back at him. Her gray eyes…those wonderful, stormy gray eyes. Truly, they played the strings of his heart. For all of his bravery, he could still not imagine what he had done to deserve this.

He smiled at Revan. The war was over. It was really over. All the long years and all of the agony had taken such a toll on him. Could he really start over? Could he have a family again? It would not be the family that he had started with, but he knew he could never go back. He allowed himself a moment to visualize himself with Dustil in a fishing boat, casting rods out to sea with Revan waving to them from the shore. He had kept that image of Morgana doing just that deep within his heart for so long…buried so deep. It was time for new memories now, but could he let go of the old ones?

He flipped a switch just above his head.

"Okay, I've turned the seatbelt sign off. You are now free to move about the cabin."

In the next seat, Revan unbuckled her harness and stood. She took several steps aft and placed the palm of her hand on Bastila's shoulder. Painful emotions surged through the bond that was now stronger than ever. Revan gasped – it was like touching a hot iron. Terror and humiliation flooded into her and she knew her mentor's inner agony. How Bastila had endured such torment was beyond her. She wondered if she would have fared half as well.

"Bastila…we will get through this. I am here for you."

Padawan Shan averted her gaze, obviously fighting for control. "Revan, from the time we were younglings, you have taken care of me…looked out for me even though you were younger. I must stand on my own…find my own peace," she said in a straining, tremulous voice.

The raven-haired Jedi nodded. Images of a younger Bastila, looking up to her, were now clear in her mind. "Yes, you must…in time, but for now, we must rely on each other for strength. That is the true greater good."

Bastila turned to make eye contact with Revan and blinked several times before hot tears flowed down her cheeks to splash on her black robes. Padawan Shan tried to look away and clench her jaw, but Revan held her. She wasn't going to let Bastila bear this all on her own. It would be too much – Padawan Shan's entire psyche would come collapsing down in shame and horror and…she would again fall to the Dark Side. Revan could feel her shaking like a leaf in her arms.

"The Jedi do not allow their emotions to affect them," Bastila uttered with a groan, her words without conviction. "I fell to the Dark Side…I was Malak's puppet…I murdered Kyle."

Revan gently stroked her mentor's hair. "And now, you are on the path to healing. Let us be redeemed together and together, someday we may forgive ourselves. Let it out, Bastila," she said soothingly and the auburn-haired Jedi allowed the tears to flow freely. Soon, Revan's torn robes were soaked as Bastila sobbed violently, rocking and pounding with her fists.

As she held Bastila, she looked up and made eye contact with Jolee and the old man nodded with a knowing smile – it was a start. There would be hope.

The Rakatan Temple – Late Afternoon

The glory of the Rakatan sun shone strongly in the crystal blue sky over the gathered crowds of Rakatans and Republic forces. The assembled sentients mingled and murmurs covered the wide plateau.

Canderous Ordo leaned against a stone wall at the top of the temple, healed by the power of his implant. The proud Mandalorian wore Sherruk's scarlet armor, which he had buffed and polished to a reflective shine. The surviving Mandalorians stood with him and they laughed in deep, throaty voices at warlike jests.

Bralor, the champion of many dueling circles, clapped Canderous on the shoulder. "Ergeron was right…you really should consider it," he said, eliciting a doubtful frown from Ordo.

At that, Lashowe stepped in, interrupting the warriors' bravado. "You should listen to these wise men, Mandalorian."

Canderous raised an eyebrow, looking down on the petite, white-haired woman. He was intrigued. She had the fire of a warrior, but could she walk the walk? "That hair gives you an Echani look. Do you have the skills to back it up?" he said sternly, trying to turn the tables on the woman.

Lashowe gave him a pouty look. "For the right leader I do."

He chuckled at her comeback in his gravely voice. They were all talking nonsense. The glory of the Mandalorians was diminished and the fiery star of the Mandalore had set forever upon the galaxy. There would be no more valor…no more conquest. Survival was the best that they could hope for. Canderous snorted. Well, he had served the greatest admiral of their time and his adventures were the stuff of legends now. That was quite a legacy for their dying race. He could have few complaints.

Bralor grasped him by his armored elbow. "Think on it, Canderous. We are with you. After what you have done today, only glory awaits us."

Glory…what did that word mean to him now? He had lived for the sound of that word for so long. Part of him still yearned for the song of battle. But that would be for another day. He thought about brave Ergeron and Jagi and he realized that he was tired, ever so tired. He tousled Lashowe's white hair and gave her a wry grin. "Why don't we sleep on it?"

Nearby, Juhani meditated with Mekel and they were now dressed in luxurious robes of cream and white, covered by a mocha hooded cloak. Through the miracles of modern medicine and the Force, her arm had been reattached and made whole again. The Cathar's face was uncharacteristically serene as she faced the healed Masters Vash, Kavar, and Zez-Kai El. She had come through so much and had faced down her anger. She knew that more struggles lay ahead, but she never wanted to go back to being the enraged young woman that she had been. Thanks to Revan, she would put that behind her.

Now that the Sith had been defeated and her last tormentor slain, Juhani couldn't see what the future would hold for her. For so long, everything revolved around vengeance and righting wrongs. What would she do now? What could she do now?

A fourth master approached Juhani and placed a blue robe before her. "Knight Juhani, please accept this as a token of the Order's gratitude," spoke Master Quatra.

Juhani's face registered surprise and then warm satisfaction; her long years of torment and her long months of recent sacrifice had finally been rewarded. Having that reward presented by her lost master was especially heartwarming for her. No longer did Juhani feel a failure and a shame to the Order. In spite of everything that she had endured, all the humiliations and torment, she could now stand on equal terms with these great beings and be honored and trusted. She gratefully accepted the garments, signs of her elevated rank as Master Quatra turned to Mekel.

"Mekel, you too have given much to the Republic recently. We know of your past affiliations, but should you wish to serve, there is a place for you in the Order."

Juhani looked over to the once fallen Jedi. Redemption was a feeling that was its own reward. She gave him a supportive nod and he took the robe that was presented to him. As Revan had helped her, she too, would help others.

Beyond them Captain Carth Onasi paced in a crisp dress uniform of gray and blue with silver epaulets and colored ribbons. His black boots were polished to perfection and his face cleanly shaven. Beside him stood Jordo Crae in a mechanic's coverall and Midshipman Mission Vao in a gray uniform with silver buttons up to a high collar.

The blue Twi'lek scratched her neck and turned to a tall Wookiee. "Egad, Z, this itches. How am I going to survive four years of this?"

Zaalbar warbled in jest and Mission smirked, slapping him in the stomach.

"Ten-hut! Admiral on deck!" yelled Carth, announcing the approach of Admiral Forn Dodonna. The three snapped to attention and gave the Admiral a smart salute. Dodonna smiled and returned the salute, bringing hand up to her cocky maroon beret.

"At ease," she said, extending her hand to Carth, which he took gladly. "You three have done the Republic a great service. I have here a message from Supreme Chancellor Dakar." Forn placed a holoemitter on the ground.

Carth's mind raced. What had happened on Coruscant in the last few days…in the last few weeks, in fact? They had been out of the loop for so long. "Senator Dakar? Aerin's father? What happened to Locarno?" asked Onasi.

"Beats me," Dodonna answered with obvious contempt for the former Chancellor. "He ran when things got hot."

Carth felt a certain cold satisfaction at this. Locarno was slime, pure and simple. His corruption and politics had nearly wrecked the Republic and he was glad that the man was gone. Hopefully, Locarno would get his somehow, somewhere. He watched as Forn activated the emitter and the holographic image of the new Supreme Chancellor appeared. Instinctively, everyone bowed.

"Greetings, loyal members of the Republic. This is a great day," the image said, looking at each person. "Your actions reflect great credit upon yourselves, the Navy, and the Republic. As such, I have hereby certified the appointment of Mission Vao to the Republic Naval Academy with the rank of Midshipman, Third Class. Welcome aboard."

The young Twi'lek's girlish smile burst through her military bearing. She had overcome filth and oppression to be accepted into the finest military institution in the galaxy. Carth's heart was filled with pride in Mission's grown into a professional young lady.

Chancellor Dakar returned her grin and continued, "I have also authorized the creation of the Telosian Restoration Project to be headed by Jordo Crae and Rear Admiral Carth Onasi, who will work with the Ithorian Herd."

Carth stepped back, suddenly weak in the knees. What did he just say? Was his homeworld to be reborn? And who was Rear Admiral Onasi? "Excuse me, Supreme Chancellor…did you say-"

"I did, Admiral Onasi. I swear by the Force that I will do my utmost to restore your home."

The two Telosians looked at each other in awe. "We give you our thanks, Supreme Chancellor. We will make Telos a beauty once more," said Carth with a bow, surprise still on his face at his promotion.

"I know you will. Now, there is someone, who wants to meet you," Orrin Dakar voiced and the hologram of a raven-haired woman appeared beside him – Aerin Dakar. She was an exact physical duplicate of Revan.

"Admiral Onasi," she said, "I want to thank you and your brave crew for the sacrifice and service that you gave to the Republic. Without you, we would be no more," she said, looking at him without recognition. Her words had warmth, but the warmth of a friendly stranger.

Carth gasped at the likeness of his lover before him and she continued. "As you know, I gave my identity to increase the chances of this mission's success. Although I could not be with you in body, I have been with you in spirit. Thank you, congratulations, and may the Force be with you on Telos." Admiral Onasi blushed momentarily, imagining being intimate with that Aerin. After all, they were a perfect match in physical form.

After the brief meeting was concluded, Carth looked at Admiral Dodonna. "And I thought only the non-participants got awarded and no good deed went unpunished," he said, joking about awards and punishments under Locarno's regime where politics ruled and merit just got you in trouble.

"Not any more, Admiral Onasi, not any more," she answered slyly and then looked up at the massive Wookiee. "And you, Zaalbar, the Republic has pledged aid to Kashyyyk to help and clean up the mess that Czerka made. We hope to have a long and prosperous affiliation with your people."

Then, the group was startled by the sound of running boots. Carth turned to see a young man sprinting toward them. His heart leapt.

"Dustil!" he yelled, waving the boy toward them. The dark-haired youth came to a halt just in front of the gathering.

"Dad…dad, I got stuck in the crowd," he said, awestruck by the festivities.

Carth wrapped his arm around Dustil's head and ruffled his hair. "Son, I'm going back to Telos. Jordo and I are going to help rebuild her. I…I'd like it if you would be there with me."

The boy gave him a sideways glance. "It'll be quite a feat to restock the lakes," he quipped while gazing out over the Rakatan ocean. "Hey, do you think that the fishing will be good here?"

Watching the exchange nearby was the rust-colored droid, HK-47, standing with his head down and orange eyes dim. "Statement: This condition called peace is most unsatisfactory. I am without a target for the first time since I left that miserable Ithorian on Tatooine," he said in a low and slow voice that could only be construed as depression.

He paced about, scanning the crowd and the empty sky for any threats, but no one revealed any hostile intent. As he let out an electronic sigh, a young man and woman, both blond and wearing Republic uniforms approached.

"HK, don't be so glum," said Lieutenant Niki Helos. "I'm sure there will be many more meatbags to shoot in the months to come. After all, Bastila told me that Darths Sion and Nihilus had escaped with a portion of the Sith fleet."

The droid's eyes brightened. "Query: Are you pulling my leg?"

"Would I do that?" she answered and then pointed to her companion. "HK, this is Mical, he is a medic with the service."

The man bowed deeply, carrying himself in a most dignified manner, more befitting a Jedi than a Navy medic. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, HK," he said in an accent equally as dignified as his behavior.

The droid dimmed one eye at Mical. "Query: Is your sole function to fix meatbags? What sort of a life is that?"

"Well, it's very rewarding, but, to be honest, my heart is vested in research and archaeology. One day, after my military commitment is over, I will lead an expedition to Dantooine."

Finally, in the shadow of the temple spire, Master Vandar stood before a kneeling Revan, Bastila, and Yuthura Ban. His lime green face was serene on the exterior, but many questions burned within his soul.

The women's eyes were closed until Vandar spoke, "Although we have ended the Sith threat for today, the future remains cloudy. There will be much to be done in the coming months. The Academy on Dantooine has been destroyed and we will have to build a new one for the new generation of Jedi. We must always think to the future."

The Twi'lek, Yuthura Ban looked to the Jedi Master. "I will do what I must to help those, who have been harmed by this war. I am a humble servant of the Order."

Vandar smiled and then took Bastila and Revan's hands in his. "Knight Shan, Knight Revan, it is time for the ceremony.

Bastila inhaled deeply at the sound of her new rank. "Master Vandar…I failed you. I do not deserve your reward."

"On the contrary, Bastila, you are now everything the Jedi stand for. Sacrifice, knowledge, intelligence, and now…humility."

Jedi Shan stopped and trembled for a moment and Revan took her other hand. Bastila bit her lower lip and replied, "Master Vandar, I think I understand."

He looked upon her hand, which dwarfed his own and knew that, at last, she did.

The Ceremony

The dwarf star that lit the sky began its slow descent toward the horizon and the crowds gathered at the base of the temple. Ordered ranks of Republic troops stood besides murmuring Rakatans of the Elders. Revan looked down on the masses and, for a second, she thought she saw multitudes of Sith soldiers saluting she and Bastila, chanting, "All hail Darth Revan."

Revan blinked for a second, clearing her mind of what could easily have been, given a slightly different series of events. What would she have done with all of that power? Why would she even want it now? Power for its own sake was madness. If only she had understood that but a few years ago.

Master Vandar addressed the crowd while Carth brought the others together. Then, he slid in behind Revan and wrapped his arms around her waist. She settled in, letting his body shield her and it felt so right. She looked up at the bright sky and wondered how she had ever deserved this. She tuned back into the speech and Vandar spoke of darkness and light and the redemption that comes through sacrifice. Admiral Dodonna then stepped forward and they all came to attention. The Admiral then pinned a platinum cross on each of their breasts – The Cross of Glory, the Republic's highest honor.

Revan felt a little odd receiving such an award – for ending a war in which she, herself, started.

Now that I am Revan again, why do I still have such odd emotions. It must be that I have blended with that Aerin and we are now…someone entirely different. This compassion thing can be very annoying, but I find that it suits me.

Then, Revan's mind snapped back to reality as Vandar swept his tiny hand back at them while starfighters screeched by overhead amid the burst of fireworks.

"And with this victory and these awards, we welcome back, Revan, the Prodigal Knight."