Chapter 18
Allie had fixed the hyperdrive. No one else really understood what was wrong with it or what had to be done, but the mechanic silently went to work on the drive and within a few hours it was fixed. They quietly lifted off of the planet, the Hawk convulsing as it tried to fight its way out of the hole it burrowed into the ground in the crash. Elliott took it into orbit around Samarkand and then jumped into hyperspace—en route to Malacandra.
Their plan was the same. They would have to go to the Sith world no matter what. They would stay far out of orbit and inspect it, if they thought they could chance a landing, then they would. Otherwise, they would have to turn back. Dustil was adamant, however. He believed they would have to land and take on the Sith regardless of the obstacles.
Caius sat with him in the medical room while they were in transit. Dustil was well enough to sit up and walk around a bit, but he was in no condition to move much at a time. He was still weak and sick from the poison. The young Jedi was trying to sit up as he spoke, but he would get tired and then have to lean against the wall while talking.
He said to Caius, "We can't go back now—we have to find Revan."
"I know," said the Exile, "but if there's too many Sith—or we can't find a way to sneak onto the planet, then we might not be able to. If it's too dangerous then we'll have to go back. We can just tell Nantaris and Carth that the Sith threat is there…but we don't know how to defeat them."
"If they're that strong, then the Republic would stand no chance in its current state. Caius—we have to find Revan. If the Sith world looks impenetrable, then we have even more reason to do it."
Caius thought on what he said. He was probably right. The Exile rubbed his head with his hand and felt a bit of resistance. He was surprised at first, but then realized that they had been away from the Republic long enough that his hair was beginning to grow back. He had shaved his face as often as he could considering the circumstances, but not his head. A visitor interrupted his thoughts about hygiene.
Bastila joined the conversation. She, standing against the nearby doorframe, said, "You sound just like your father."
Dustil did not really move as she entered the room and sat down on a small chair next to Caius.
"We don't even know if Revan's there," Caius admitted. "We're just guessing."
"He's there," Bastila said quietly, almost to herself.
"How do you know?" Caius asked dubiously.
"There is…a bond," she said, not looking either of them in the eyes, "between me and him. It's been there since the Civil War, but when he left it almost died. Now that we're getting closer…I can feel it. We're getting near."
"Why didn't you tell us this earlier?" Caius asked.
"I did not even know what it was," she admitted, "it has been such a long time since I felt anything through it. It was just an empty void for years, but now I can sense him again."
Dustil did not say anything, although he looked like he was interested. Although, it was hard to tell with his face so pale and beleaguered with pain.
Bastila continued speaking, but turned to Caius this time. She said, "You of all people should understand how the Force bond works."
Caius nodded, said, "You're…right." He looked at her, focused on her eyes, and he saw that she seemed very uncertain, not that he was there, but that she would find him. "Don't worry," he assured her, "I believe you. If he is there, we'll find him."
"Now you're certain?" she asked hesitantly, noticing his rather rapid change of heart.
"If he's there, we'll find him," he answered again, implying that was all that could be done.
"I'm glad you're changing your mind," said Dustil, "we have to have everyone on board."
Bastila smiled softly and turned to the young Jedi, but said, "You're not going anywhere, Dustil. Since you seem to be so bent on staying away from a hospital until after this, we can't allow you to get hurt or sick again. You're going to have to stay on the ship—no matter where we take it."
Dustil looked like he was about to disagree—he moved sharply—but suddenly he went sluggish, as though a shot of pain forced him to agree with her. He leaned against the wall again and nodded slowly.
Caius changed the subject, asked, "Do you think the Sith will know we're coming?"
"I don't know," Bastila answered. "That ship that intercepted us might have just been an accident. And since we were on that planet for several days without any other Sith interference, I think it's safe to say that they did not have an opportunity to transmit any information before Dustil took it down."
Caius lightly hit Dustil on the knee, said, "Good shot, kid."
Dustil smirked slightly and then slumped sideways slightly, falling asleep.
"Are you all right?" Xristos asked as he found Allie in the cargo hold, furiously tinkering away at a mortified T3.
She didn't say anything to him and kept working. HK was standing nearby, relishing the torment inflicted upon his rival. She probably wouldn't have stopped had the little droid not frightened her by shrieking a horrible wail and then flying backwards into a wall. Smoke began slithering out of the crevices in his frame.
"I think you should stop working on the droid," Xristos suggested as helpfully as possible.
HK disagreed, said, "Query: Old meatbag, why ask her to stop? Statement: The little droid deserved every second of that."
Allie threw down her hydrospanner and stood up, facing Xristos. She then looked down and stretched out her arm, having discarded the sling.
"What were you doing?" asked the old Jedi.
"Nothing," she sighed. "Just trying to upgrade T3."
Xristos looked at the steaming droid, his head twitching unnaturally. "Uh…I think he's okay for now," he said. He looked back at Allie who was standing in silence, though with a very inhospitable aura about her. "Is something wrong?" he asked.
"Caius…is…a jerk," she stated flatly.
"I see," Xristos answered. "So I take it he tried talking it out with you?"
She looked up at him with narrowed eyes, said, "So you know too, huh? This is so stupid. He's right, I shouldn't have come on this trip—it was a bad idea."
"He said that?" Xristos questioned, "maybe he is a jerk."
"Statement: He also said that loving the mechanic meatbag is like getting shot in the knee," HK added thoughtfully.
Allie sighed and looked down at her feet. Xristos frowned and said to HK, "Why don't you go away? You're never any help anyway."
"Statement: You are not the master, you cannot tell me what to do," retorted the droid.
It looked as though the droid won before Xristos reached out with his hand. A blast of energy flew towards HK and suddenly the droid's head fell down, his red eyes shutting off. The beam then stopped. The droid fell backwards in silence and crashed into the ground.
"Hmm," Xristos said, musing, "I haven't let my temper get the best of me like that in years." He turned to Allie, said, "Sorry you had to see that…"
"Sorry…?" she questioned, "I was going to thank you."
"It's just that I used to have a bad temper—it's something my wife always complained about. And then the Jedi tried really hard to work it out of me. Since I was older…they had a hard time of it."
"Really?" she asked, "what about your wife? She didn't try?"
"Oh, she did," he said with a chuckle, "the Jedi could have taken a few pointers from her."
"Well," began Allie, "I guess it worked. I never would've guessed you had a bad temper."
"Thanks," he said, "it's good to know I have a bit of control, at least."
"I wish I did," Allie lamented, "I feel like bashing someone's face in with a wrench."
"Caius's face?" asked the old man. "I'm sure you'd regret that after you did it."
She shrugged, said, "I suppose, but it would sure feel good."
"Do you want me to talk to him?" asked the old Jedi.
Allie's face twisted, as she did not like the proposition. "No," she stated, "please don't. I don't want anyone to be a mediator. I'll just keep to myself until the mission is over, collect my pay, and then leave as fast as I can."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Xristos said. "Even though Caius may be…a jerk…the rest of us care about you. I care about you. I don't want to see you stewing like this for the rest of the mission. Frankly, we need you, Allie."
The mechanic did not say anything in response; she just looked into Xristos's old, blue eyes. Some of the anger in her aura subsided, and stopped wringing her hands and stood straight.
Xristos put his hand on her shoulder and began leading her out of the cargo hold. He said, "Come on, let's go to the cockpit. Elliott needs some company."
"Thanks, Xristos," Allie said.
They turned and left, abandoning the two droids and leaving them as smoldering wrecks.
The rest of the flight through hyperspace was relatively uneventful. Eventually Allie went back to the cargo hold and reactivated HK, and then undid the damage she inflicted upon T3.
After several hours, Elliott informed the crew that they would be dropping out of hyperspace. They gathered together in the cockpit, the entire crew—with the exception of Dustil—was present. It was a tight fit, but they all managed to stand inside the small area. They watched in silent apprehension as the blue vortex of hyperspace was about to fade out of existence.
Elliott flipped a few switches, and the funnel straightened out and disappeared. Stars streaked into existence, and then a gray orb floated towards them at tremendous speed.
"Is everything in this part of the galaxy gray?" asked Caius. No one answered.
They came closer to the planet, but Elliott kept them far out of range of anything that could be orbiting it. Closer examination revealed that the planet was, indeed, well fortified. But only on one side.
"Is that their fleet?" asked Bastila, looking at a massive collection of floating objects holding orbit over the planet's western hemisphere. "It's…huge," she said with trepidation. They could not count the number of warships, there were too many, but distinct from all of them was a huge dreadnaught. It dwarfed even the biggest of the remaining ships. They all hovered about it, the massive vessel in the middle of the fleet.
"They're…preparing an invasion," Caius said ominously. "Dustil was right."
"There's no way the Republic could stand up to that fleet," Xristos said. "We simply don't have the manpower. If Revan knows how to defeat them, he would be our only shot."
"He's here," Bastila asserted. "We have to find him."
Elliott interrupted the conversation, said, "They're all gathered on one side of the planet, we can sneak in through the opposite hemisphere, but who knows what's on the ground over there."
"We may just have to chance it," said Caius.
"It's your call," Elliott informed him.
The Exile stopped and thought a moment. This was it—they were in front of Malacandra, the Sith capital world. The Republic had thought Revan dead, but if he was really here—they would have to find him. They would have to help him. He was the key to defeating the Sith Empire—the one man who knew anything about their secretive enemy. The more he thought, the more he realized they had no other option. He looked over at Bastila. Her steel gaze met his, and then she very slowly nodded. Only once, but Caius returned the favor and then looked back at Elliott. He said, "Put us down on the far side of the planet."
"All right—hold on, everyone."
The Ebon Hawk moved stealthily through Sith space and towards the opposite end of the enemy planet. It silently descended into Malacandra's atmosphere. They had taken every precaution to avoid detection, and so no Sith scanner—if there were any—discovered them. As they delved further into the planet's atmosphere, they were relieved to see that there were large portions of the planet that were uninhabited. Large, rocky canyons and mountain ranges were visible, with no traces of civilization among them. Elliott carefully decided on a particularly dead-looking area that was, unfortunately, very far away from any city.
"I don't think we can get any closer to an inhabited area than this," Caius stated.
"You have such little faith in me," Elliott responded. "Just watch."
The pilot found a deep gully and dipped the Hawk inside of it, flying through the canyon and towards what seemed to be a Sith city. They were too far below the near mountain range to ever be spotted. The crew, though, was uneasy about the flying.
"Elliott!" said Bastila, "this is too dangerous! We can't fly through a canyon!"
"Well, we are. Or, correction, I am. Trust me, babe, I know what I'm doing."
Bastila bit her lower lip and watched nervously. The rest of the crew joined her, and they all breathed a collective sigh of relief when Elliott finally put the ship down in a dusty gully surrounded by several large mountains and a convenient, natural archway.
"There," said the pilot, "and we're only a few miles outside of that city."
"We should not have come this close," said Bastila. "They could find us."
"Bastila, love, there's no way anyone could've tracked us through that canyon. Even if they were looking."
Bastila sighed, said, "Stop talking to me like that."
Elliott just laughed to himself. He said, "You know you love it."
"All right, let's stop the nonsense and discuss what we're going to do next," Xristos said, killing Elliott's flirtatious jabs at Bastila.
"It seemed too easy to get in," said Caius.
"That wasn't easy," Elliott retorted.
"But it was almost as if they let us in on this side, like they're planning something," said the Exile.
"They're clearly planning an invasion," remarked Bastila.
"Should we warn the Republic?" Caius asked.
"And tell them what?" Bastila countered. "That there's a massive Sith armada about to invade—one which they have no chance of defeating? We don't even know where or when the attack is going to be. We'd cause a panic and still no one would know what to do. Even if our communications equipment worked we would have nothing to say. We have to find Revan—he is here, and he is our only shot. He must know how to defeat the Sith."
"If he does," began Caius, "and he is alive, then why is he waiting?"
"The only way to find out is to ask him," she answered.
Caius sighed slightly. He did not especially like this, it seemed too dangerous to go looking around the Sith planet for Revan—but Bastila was right, they had to do it. "So what do we do?" he asked.
"We go out," she answered. "And we look for him. We can use the Sith disguises you got on that other planet."
It was not difficult to choose who would go. Bastila was the most important since she had the link to Revan—though some ambiguous power, she was able to feel his proximity now that they had gotten close enough to him. But she could never describe it—she just knew.
Caius and Xristos were to go with her. Dustil could not, due to his weakened state, and neither Allie nor Elliott were suited to the type of excursion.
Caius had donned one of the complicated Sith outfits; he did so faster than the others. Without putting the veil and cloth over his head, he strode towards the exit ramp of the Hawk. He found Bastila coming the other direction—she seemed to be adjusting the sleeve on her right arm so as to put on a long, dark glove. He then noticed, for the first time, that her arm was sickeningly disfigured. In terms of shape, it was fine, but a horrid scar—thick, pink, and ugly—ran up her forearm and down to the outside of her elbow. The contrast it created with her the rest of her flawless skin was truly jolting, and he did not know what to say—especially since she noticed him staring at it.
The Exile felt awkward looking at her old wound, said, "Uh…"
She quickly pulled down her sleeve and said, "It was from an accident. A duel a long time ago that got out of control."
"Oh, uh…okay," he said lamely. He wondered more about it, but he did not want to ask her. Now was not the time, anyway. In truth, he was surprised to find such a mark on her. She always wore long sleeves or robes, so it was not surprising that he hadn't seen it. But it was such shocking to him that someone who was famous simply for her beauty would bear that kind of blemish. He knew he was being superficial, though, and quickly forced it out of his mind. Her scar was not a problem.
The main problem, though, was that of height. The Sith were, at least the ones they had encountered, somewhat tall. Bastila was not. Even Caius and Xristos were shorter than the average trooper, but not by that much. Bastila, however, was a good five inches shorter than the two of them, and it was obvious when they donned their disguises.
"What do we do about your height?" Caius asked Bastila.
"Hope no one notices," she answered.
"That is…not a sound plan," responded the Exile.
"It's our only option—we'll just have to…avoid being obvious."
Caius sighed. He did not like this. Subterfuge was not his greatest skill anyway, but walking straight into the Sith capital world dressed like one of their soldiers—with no knowledge of their etiquette and behavior—was tops on his list of worst ideas ever. The only consolation to him was that this was the only way to find Revan. And Bastila seemed to be cognizant of his presence—or at least, she knew which direction to go.
It did not take long for them to emerge from the dismal canyon and gaze upon the city itself.
The Sith city was incredibly large, with spindly, dark towers rising up all over the horizon. The architecture was distinctly similar to that found on the Trayus Academy at Malachor. The buildings seemed to be constructed of smooth granite, and they were very symmetrical. The familiar red eyes that were born by all the doors and walls of the Academy were also present. The smooth exteriors were also similar to that of the ghost tomb on Korriban. It could not be a coincidence—these were the pure Sith, the ones left over from the wars of long past; the followers of Ludo Kressh and Naga Sadow. They were not destroyed, merely driven into exile. And here they stayed—and grew strong. No doubt their horrifying appearances were a result of isolation from society—inbreeding and separate evolution. They had been absent for many millennia.
What was the most disconcerting to him were the strange forms of propaganda they came across in the city. Huge paintings and posters of the same black-helmeted abomination were strung up all over the city. In fact, they were the only things visible aside from the eternal blackness of all the architecture. The pictures all bore a portrait—presumably of a Sith Lord. It was merely his head, and it was covered by a massive, ornate piece of headgear that made him look like some kind demonic phantom. It had two razor sharp horns protruding out of the sides of the helmet. The armor covered most of his head, but his hideous purple chin and devilish mouth were not hidden. There was a kind of wicked smile behind it. Underneath the portrait were written words, he could not read the Sith language, though, so he did not know what they meant.
I wonder if that is Severus, he thought to himself.
Aside from the posters, there were also many large screens of a certain kind. They were all inactive, though. Just blank, gray walls.
Caius was almost in awe of the historical significance of the city, but his emotions were overridden by the dark evil present on the planet. Severus made his haven here; this was to be sure. If the Sith Lord was more powerful than Cyaxares, they would have a hard time dealing with him. Fortunately, confronting him was not part of their plan—they merely had to find Revan.
The trio eventually made their way into the streets of the city. The stone-covered alleyways were almost completely barren. The only other beings even visible at all were the occasional Sith troopers. There were a few others, Sith that wore no armor and bore no weapons. They awed Caius. After fighting all these Sith for so long, he had expected every last one of them to wear a hood and wield a gun. It was shocking to see some of them in their normality. They did not even look like enemies to him—they were simply disfigured monsters, but they posed no threat. It was odd, these were his enemies? The enemies of the Republic? Some of them looked harmless.
But all he had to do was remember what the soldiers were capable of, then he remembered how lethal they really were.
Caius let his wandering thoughts get the best of him. He grew more comfortable when he saw how few Sith actually walked the streets. He wondered why. Could it be because they lived under autocratic dictatorship? Perhaps Severus was brutal and disliked, he would force his people into submission and they would not dare walk about outside. Or perhaps there weren't as many Sith as he had thought.
The group was passed by what seemed to be a battalion of Sith soldiers. They marched along the road, their long, automatic weapons resting against their shoulders. Caius held his breath as they passed, while Bastila tried to conceal herself behind Xristos and the Exile. The image was a frightening one—they were trained and prepared. Seeing such order and cohesion among them showed that the Sith were not animalistic, even though their behavior seemed to dictate otherwise. They fought with everything they had, but they were not as out of control as they seemed. But to put so much effort into the fight meant that they truly believed in their cause—and that ruled out his suspicions concerning Severus the dictator.
And then it occurred to him. As the battalion moved past in silence, only the sounds of their boots slamming against the stone road in unison, he realized why there were so few Sith in the city.
They were preparing for the invasion. All of them. The astoundingly huge fleet that they had assembled in orbit was not composed of empty ships. They were preparing for war. Not just some border skirmish or terror-inducing sneak attack—like Nihilus and Sion had done. No, they were to engage in full scale, total war.
The Republic would be almost defenseless.
There would be no way the nation would be able to muster the resistance necessary to combat that fleet.
It became clearer to him—their hope would live and die with Revan. He must know the key to defeating them. If he were alive or dead, he was the fulcrum—they needed to find him. But certainly he could not do it alone—he would need their help. And if, though Caius shuddered at the thought, he was dead, then they would have to try to pick up where he left off—though time was a precious commodity, and they did not have a lot of it.
The Exile then faded away from his thoughts and focused on the situation at hand. Bastila was in front of him, leading both he and Xristos. He had no idea how she knew where to go, but he trusted her. If Revan was here, she would be able to find him.
Bastila made an inexplicable right turn off of one of the larger roads into a darker back alley. Caius was uneasy as they navigated it. He had a nagging feeling that something was going to go wrong. He had learned the gut-instinct habit from Atton, and it had served him well. As of now, he felt that they were in danger.
He tried to ignore his desire to speak to Bastila about it, to say something that would warn her of what he perceived was a threat—but he could not think of anything to say that was not ambiguous and poorly conceived. He had no reason, just feeling.
But his feelings told him they needed to get the hell out of this alley.
He had to chance it. He had to speak up and tell her to go another way—this one was too risky. Even if he had to break their silence and put their lives in danger, it was worth it.
He reached up to her and tapped her lightly on the shoulder.
She stopped, but did not turn around.
"Bastila?" he asked quietly.
She did not move, but he heard her voice faintly. She said, "Someone is watching us."
The trio spread out, unsure what action to take. Caius could not gauge her because of the hood and mask over her face. He looked around warily, trying to discern who or what could be stalking them, though he feared the worst.
Bastila began walking to the right, away from the alley.
He was about to call after her, but the explosion drowned his voice out.
The building next to them was struck by something. Just above the heads of Caius and Xristos, the wall was suddenly blown to smithereens. Large chunks of debris rained down on top of them, and Caius was thrown to the ground. He tried to cover his head, protect himself, but he still felt the impact of the shards. Fortunately, he was not impaled by anything.
His ears were ringing, and his vision was lost. All he saw was the gray sky and then the dirt, both of them spinning. Dust flew all about and he lost himself. In a moment, the vicious torrent ended. The area went quiet and Caius was relieved to find out he was still alive. He put his hands under his chest and began to push himself up, some debris rolling off of his back.
He froze when he heard the sound of the rifles clicking. Caius looked up warily, and saw that a dozen or so Sith soldiers were standing all around him, their weapons raised and at the ready.
Before he even had a chance to determine if resistance was possible, one of the Sith hit him from behind and threw him onto the ground. He tried to catch himself, but he did not do very well. He did not have his gun, having lost it in the explosion, so he threw out a wave of the Force and launched two of the Sith backwards.
Following the attack, Caius tried to get up again, but there were too many Sith to fight. He got to his knees when his vision went to darkness. A bag was thrust over his head, and he could see no longer.
Bastila had avoided capture.
The debris that rained down from the explosion had blocked the vision of their Sith attackers, and she used the bought time to sprint away as fast as possible. She could not survive in the open for long—this was for certain. She had to find Revan, somehow, someway.
She then remembered the comm link. She carefully pulled it out of her pocket and ducked behind a large pile of rubbish that she found in back of a large building. She pulled the link close to her and whispered desperately into it.
"Allie…Elliott…" she hissed harshly. "Can you hear me?" Her voice was dripping with panic-induced emotion.
"What is it, Bastila?" she heard Allie ask loudly.
"Quiet," Bastila whispered. "They could hear me." She took a deep breath, still hyperventilating from her narrow escape. She said quickly, "Caius and Xristos have been captured by the Sith. I barely escaped."
"Oh no…" Allie said.
Bastila continued, speaking too fast for her brain to handle, "I have to find Revan. He has to be able to help. I have to. Allie, if I don't speak to you again by tomorrow, tell Elliott to get back to Coruscant. Tell them that we found the Sith capital world. Tell Carth. Wait until you get a signal. I have to find—" and then it cut off. After that, only static noise.
Allie's hands were shaking. She was terrified now. The Sith clearly knew they were here. Had they walked straight into a trap?
"Damn," said Elliott after she explained the situation to him. "Well…I guess we can't do anything but wait."
"Query: What do you mean 'can't do anything'?" HK demanded, "Statement: Just tell me how many meatbags I have to murder to get the master back."
"It's not that easy, HK," said Allie, "we have to stay hidden…"
Elliott then added, "Well, we certainly can't go after them. It's really our only option."
T3 agreed.
Caius's world consisted of the black wrapping around his head. He could see nothing, only hear and feel. He was hit on the back of the head and then thrown onto a hard, metal surface. He was not sure what was going on, but to use the Force was not advisable. He would be able to, perhaps, fight off many of the Sith, but he had no idea where he was or how many of them were near him. All he knew was that he was being taken somewhere. He could feel that whatever he was in was moving. And fast.
He decided to chance a question. He spoke in the Sith language that he had ripped from the man on Scythia. He asked, "Where are you taking me?"
To his surprise, the answer came, it rang through clear as day as he heard only two words: "Lord Severus."
The answer hit Caius like a punch to the stomach. Severus? He thought. The Sith Lord? There seemed to be an unlimited supply of them, but here was the head of the opposition. He would probably be interrogated and then killed. That was how Sith operated.
It was then that Caius began formulating a plan. These Sith probably did not know that he was a Jedi—let alone as strong a one as he was. He would use whatever opportunity presented itself to him. When he came face to face with this Sith Lord, he would destroy him. And then he would embrace whatever death they had planned. At least he would take one of them with him. If he couldn't kill the Sith Lord, he would kill as many Sith underlings as possible. He would not go down without a fight.
He became more intent on destruction as the journey continued, though his plan became less and less detailed. He entertained thoughts of using electricity on the Sith, and then who knows what after that.
Still his world was one of darkness. The covering was over his head. He figured that Xristos and Bastila were getting the same treatment—he hoped that they would fight too, cause as much trouble as possible.
He was unloaded from whatever vehicle had transported them and then he was taken inside somewhere. Or at least, he thought he was as he heard plenty of doors open and close. The place had a dank, musty smell, wherever he was, and for some reason he imagined the place was very dark. He was prodded up several flights of stairs and through some corridors. He bounced off of the walls sometimes. He would have thrown an ill-advised punch at his assailants, but his hands had been cuffed. He would feign innocence now, but he would wrench those things off when the time came.
Who was Severus, anyway? This question danced about his mind as the Exile was led through the dungeon to meet his fate. A Sith Lord, obviously. And Revan made mention of him in that little snippet of dialogue that T3 had played for them. Caius wondered how many Sith there were, and if Severus was indeed the leader. If he had gotten Revan's attention, he must be very high ranking.
Perhaps if he could muster the strength to kill him it would hurt the Sith war effort. Sith generally went into chaos when their leaders were killed. Hopefully the same would happen if he killed their leader. It was a faint hope, though, but the best he had.
All of that, though, was for naught. They finally brought him to a stop. He was thrown down on his knees and he could feel the cold stone ground beneath him. His hands were still behind his back. But he did not want to try to make a move—not yet.
"You are dismissed," said a deep voice in the ugly Sith growl.
With that, Caius could only guess, several of the Sith left the area.
The voice drew closer to him. He felt a hand on the back of his head, though he did not know whom it belonged to. Despite the horrid language, Caius thought he somehow was familiar with this voice. It was odd to him—he did not understand it.
It said, "So, the famed General Lucullus has finally deigned to join me?"
This left Caius utterly confounded. What did this mean? How did he know his name? More strangely…how did he know he was a General? A Sith Lord knew this? What an odd greeting…
"Have you nothing to say? Still you do not ask where you are or who I am."
Now the voice spoke in…a normal tongue. It was disturbing—he was here, confronting a Sith Lord wasn't he? Why was he speaking…this way? And that voice was so familiar. It was gnawing at his brain that he could not place it.
All Caius could do was stutter a one-word question, "…Severus?"
"Yes," answered the voice. "And then—no."
Caius felt the hand on the back of his head pull up. The harsh fabric of the head covering was ripped off of his head. He squinted, even in the dim light, and looked up to see his counterpart. What he saw shocked him more than he could ever have imagined. There, in front of him, was that familiar face—almost mythical in status now. It had been so long since he had seen it, so much time had passed. And they had spent so much energy and thought in pursuing it, now that he was facing it, it did not seem real. It was too unbelievable to be true. But in retrospect, it was exactly what he should have expected.
"Revan…"