From Across the Galaxies
Chapter II: Ilos
After what felt like an eternity of falling, Revan felt the ground connect with his right shoulder with a resounding crash. The sound of bone popping splintered in his ears and white hot pain shot down his arm and up to his neck. The white light that had obscured his vision since touching the Conduit in the chancellor's office vanished. A hazy fog continued to hamper his senses but basic colors were still distinguishable. Judging by the myriad of browns and greens that surrounded him, he had been moved outdoors. He frantically began to look around for a person shaped object in the blur as he pulled himself to his feet.
"Mina?" he called out as he searched for her.
A loud, feminine grunt was all he heard before a powerful kick connected with his back. Revan tumbled forward, landing on his bad arm. Pain lanced through him again and he had to fight to without a groan. He tried to reach out with his mind to find her but he couldn't focus. The teleportation, or whatever it had been, had disoriented him too much. All he could focus on was the pain, the panic, and the nausea welling up inside of him.
Mina smirked as she looked at the quivering Sith Lord. The bulky man in his dark armor and layers looked pitiful as he attempted to get himself up again. She closed the short distance between them and delivered a crushing kick to his stomach, knocking him off his fours and onto his back. He cried out as the blow winded him. She walked over to his pathetic form and grabbed him by the collar of his armor.
"Sorry," she hissed at him as one hand left the neck area and ripped the visor from him. "First time's a little rough." She tossed the mask away dropped him back onto the floor. Walking away from the beaten Sith Lord, she looked around to see exactly where she had landed. Judging by the grass inside of the ancient structure, which appeared Prothean in origin, they had landed near the Ilos Conduit. That was fortunate. Landing on the Citadel would have attracted too much attention from C-sec and the council. For now, she and Revan were alone.
The exiled Jedi cast a glance back at her old friend, who had managed to sit up and seemed to be looking in her general direction. It appeared that his vision had not yet returned and connecting to the Force on Ilos would be difficult. For the first time in his life, Revan was helpless. Mina found it ironic that he should find himself in this situation. Revan had abandoned her when she had been helpless; when the Force had been lost to her. Maybe he would understand the plight that she had suffered.
Mina returned to Revan's side with speed granted to her by her newly restored connection to the Force. Lacing her fingers through his thick brown hair, Mina gripped tightly and wrenched his head back, forcing him to look into her eyes. His amber colored irises were still foggy, indicating that he was barely aware of what occurred before his very eyes. Balling her hand into a fist, she launched jabbing punch into his nose. She heard the bone break beneath her hand and smiled when warm blood began to spill from his nostrils. Lifting the Dark Lord by his hair, the exile tossed him back to the floor, savoring each pained sound he made.
Sparks began to crackle about her fingertips as she brought her hands together. Rubbing the palms together to create extra static, Mina used the Force to generate hundreds of volts of electricity, which she proceeded to launch at Revan. An anguished scream escaped him as tendrils of white lightning danced across his body, scorching his armor and burning his flesh. Mina broke off the attack only when she began to feel a drain on her own powers. The deranged woman lifted Revan into the air with her mind and cackled at his mental attempts to resist her. With a flick of her wrist, Revan soared across the exposed room and struck a wall with enough force to break clean through it and land on the other side amidst a pile of brick, rendering him unconscious.
Mina ran to the break in the mud colored wall and jumped through, landing beside him. She collapsed to her knees and lifted Revan in her arms, cradling his head to her bosom. "There, there," she cooed at the Dark Lord of the Sith. "You'll be ok." She turned his head up towards hers and smiled. His pale face had been marred with blood and his now broken nose looked terribly deformed. Still, most of Revan's inability to fight back came from the disorientation associated with making a jump between Conduits. Once he had regained enough of his wits to mount a proper mental defense, he would not be so easily tossed about. She needed to leave before that happened. He had, after all, bested her back on Coruscant and she didn't fancy the idea of him going into a blind rage in the middle of Ilos where she had no means of fending him off.
"The Salarians will be here in a few hours, love," she told him as she wiped some of the blood from his ghostly white features. Running a hand through his chocolate brown hair, she still had to admire how handsome of a man he had become. It appeared that years of war and bloodshed hadn't had much of a physically self destructive effect. Dropping him to the floor with a thud, Mina jumped to her feet and looked about. "They'll take good care of you. I'll come back for you when the time is right."
With one last glance at the Sith Lord, Mina mourned the fact that she couldn't kill him. Putting him out of his misery almost seemed merciful in this instance. In addition to that, she had waited nearly six years to avenge herself on him. Being forced to wait didn't seem fair at all. Nonetheless, disobeying Harbinger would be a bad idea to say the very least. The Reaper wanted Revan alive. Therefore, Revan lived. Shaking her head, the Jedi Exile stalked away from the Dark Lord of the Sith and left the cold Ilos ruins.
The next few hours were spent in a hazy blur in a state of semi-consciousness. When he recovered, Revan would recall only the barest of flashes the temple around him. At some point, a group of aliens had swarmed him. There had been a lot of anxious conversation around him as they inspected him and his injuries. The words "Shepherd," "Reaper," and "Council" had cropped up enough times for him to log the words away for further analysis, despite his injuries. The aliens ultimately decided to move him to a different location. He hadn't been aware of being loaded onto a stretcher and being carried off. All he remembered were flashes of the changing scenery. The overgrown and ruined temple he had landed in was soon replaced by the interior of some sort of medical facility. He vaguely became aware of a team of medics and nurses stripping him of his armor and treating the injuries inflicted by Mina.
Revan didn't truly become aware of his surroundings until one of the alien's approached him with a syringe and injected something into his IV. Shortly after the serum reached his bloodstream, the Sith Lord sat bolt up, fully conscious and aware of his surroundings. He lashed out at the doctor who had revived him and back handed him directly in the chest. The strange looking alien soared backwards and crashed over a medical cart that had been located behind him. The Dark Lord leapt out of the bed and took a look around. The medical staff behind him were backing away in fright. Revan boar his teeth in a savage, wolf like manner, causing them to whimper slightly.
"Where am I?" he hissed at a nurse standing near him.
She didn't respond. Fear struck her and paralyzed her, rendering her unable to say a word. He growled ferociously at her but it did no use. The alien woman was worthless to him. No one seemed to be reacting violently towards him though. In fact, every man and woman in the room seemed to be positively terrified. They were no threat. Taking a very deep breath, Revan sighed and tried to bring himself back in control of his emotions. He closed his eyes and reached deep into the Force, attempting to find the serene inner center of his feelings. With another long, deep breath, he opened his eyes again and turned back to the doctor he had hurt. The alien hadn't gotten up. Instead, he remained on the floor amidst a pile of broken glass and plastic, unmoving. Revan walked over to him and extended a helping hand to aid the man. The alien's glossy eyes blinked in confusion at the patient's sudden change in attitude. Shakily, he accepted the offer of help and the nude man in front of him pulled the doctor to his feet.
"I'm sorry," Revan said to the man. "I was disoriented."
"Q-quite alright," the stunned physician responded, his voice still showing signs of nervousness.
"Can you tell me what's going on? And where I am?"
"Well, um, I. The captain wanted to speak with you when you woke up," he responded. "I can call him down here, if you like."
Revan sighed and walked over to the bed where he had been asleep. Looking down at himself, he could tell that there had been extensive repair done in the last few hours. Most of his open injuries had been appropriately cleaned and sealed. A few of the deeper ones had been bandaged. Judging by the way that Mina had tossed him around, broken bones weren't out of the question but none of the aches and pains associated with fractures or the mending of said fractures. Looking himself over, he also noticed that a few of the older injuries he had sustained during both the Mandalorian Wars and the Jedi Civil War were gone as well. He looked up at the doctor with an inquisitive glance.
"How did my injuries heal so fast?" he asked.
"We just applied basic medi-gel treatments," a nearby nurse replied as she brought over a set of clothes for him to wear. "You should probably get dressed before you meet with our captain."
Revan looked at the garments as he picked up a shirt. The fabric felt strange against his fingers but he wasn't about to complain about covering up. He quickly dressed in a set of loose fitting sweat pants and a dark green short sleeve shirt.
"These are the only human clothes that we have on board. They belonged to a former ambassador. I hope they fit properly," the primary doctor stated.
"They're fine," he replied. "A little loose but they'll do. What happened to my armor?"
"Your possessions are safe," the nurse replied. "The captain wanted to do a full spectral analysis of your armor in order to determine its origin. The other possessions are in your locker."
"I made the armor myself," the Dark Lord stated coldly, not fond of the idea of a bunch of lab specialists touching his gear. "Tell me he's not playing with my lightsaber."
"I'm not sure what that is," the nurse confessed. "You can ask him about it though."
When Revan considered the fact that he had never seen a member of her species before, it occurred to him that the fact that she seemed ignorant as to the nature of a lightsaber may not be so strange. Things were definitely off around him. The unknown aliens that had treated him were a bit of a mystery. Their ignorance to his ways also fell into that same category. With a shrug, he looked to the doctor whom he had just helped to his feet.
"Take me to whomever is in charge," he requested.
Proel inwardly cursed his luck. It would appear that he had contacted the Citadel Council at a bad time. Nonetheless, he stood at attention and saluted his superiors as holographic projections of each member flickered to life before him. "Members of the council, I have word of our search on Ilos," he stated formally as he moved both hands behind his back. None of them responded. Instead, the four councilors simply waited expectantly. An uncomfortable silence fell for a moment before the officer continued. "My men have just breached the temple that Commander John Shepard described in his report. So far, we have found nothing to indicate any truth regarding the Reaper threat. This is, however, based on a preliminary search."
"Is that all, Commander?" the Turian representative inquired in a tone that hid none of his agitation. The alien's avian like features stretched into a frown as his projection eyed the Salarian soldier with mild contempt.
Inwardly, Proel wondered what he had interrupted but he kept his curiosity under control. The council's business was none of his and if he wanted to keep his job, aggravating them further would not be wise.
"There is more," Proel replied with a nod. "We have no evidence to believe that our find is connected to the Reaper threat however."
"Get to the point," the human representative snapped impatiently. Proel looked over to the newest councilor for a moment. At first, the Salarian had assumed that the four leaders of Citadel space had simply been involved in a special session or something else equally routine during these war time circumstances. Upon further inspection, the human seemed more stressed than the others. Proel's glossy eyes narrowed and he sized up the new politican. Something seemed off about him. The alien soldier could tell that the human's attire appeared wrinkled, as if he had been in it for several days. Large bags sagged under his dark and heavy eyes and lines of worry creased across his features. Something had happened to the man recently. Given the fact that he had agreed to join the video conference, the Salarian could only assume that the matter had something to do with his work. If it had been a personal matter causing such distress, the man could easily have requested a personal day.
Proel didn't much care for politics but his job required he at least know how the subject affected military procedure. Having come to this realization years ago, he had developed a keen ability to work out politicians quickly. If Anderson's problem did indeed have something to do with his newly acquired job, it meant that something big had happened to humanity. The galaxy's newcomers had already pushed a bit too far into the political arena as far as the soldier was concerned. Maybe they needed this in order to see their place.
"Please, Commander Proel," the Salarian councilor urged with a soft gesture towards the soldier. "What news have you brought us?"
"While we were investigating the perimeter of the ruins Shepard reported, a power surge caused our instruments to momentarily malfunction. Once the surge had ended, we picked up a new life form within the temple. One that had not been there previously."
The four councilors shared a concerned look with one another before turning back to Proel. "Have you located this life form, Commander?" the Asari inquired gravely.
"We found him inside of the temple. Human. Half dead."
"What?" Anderson blurted out. "I didn't authorize a human expedition to Ilos!"
"Yet a human has been found, Anderson," the Turian pointed out. "No one can enter that region of the traverse without proper security clearance from one of us."
"Uh, Councilors!" Proel cut in. "I do not believe that the human is with the Alliance." The four ceased their bickering for a moment; just long enough for the Salarian to explain himself. "His armor is very strange and it does not bear any human logo that I am familiar with. Furthermore, he was unarmed when we found him."
"Have you questioned him?" the Asari matron asked.
"Not yet. He was injured when we found him. Half dead in fact. So far, the only thing he's said was a half cognoscente threat towards someone named Mina."
"The man's a human!" Anderson cut in. "That means he falls under Alliance jurisdiction and, more importantly, mine. I want him brought to Earth for interrogation."
"What? So humanity can withhold military secrets from the rest of the galaxy? I don't think so," the Turian representative snapped.
"Councilor Anderson is well within his right to make his request," the Asari matron said matter-of-factly. "Commander Proel, bring this man to the human embassy on the Citadel. From there, Councilor Anderson can transfer him to a secure Alliance facility, so long the facility's location is made public to the rest of us."
"Yes ma'am," Proel replied with a bow.
As Proel spoke, a small chirping sound went off from his desk. He looked back at the council. "I must resume my duties. I will report soon. Proel, out." With that, the Salarian pressed a button on his desk, opening a comm. channel. "Yes?"
"Commander, the human is awake," Dr. Kraylor's voice responded over the intercom. "He wishes to speak with you."
"Sedate him," the commanding officer ordered his medic. "The council wants him brought to the Citadel."
There seemed to be a moment's hesitation before any response came through. "Yes sir," the doctor responded nervously. "Right away. Kraylor out."
Proel frowned as his ears were met with the dead sound of static once the link was severed. Kraylor had been a military medic most of his life now. Subtly sedating prisoners was by no means anything new. Why should this case be any different?
Revan howled furiously as he used his own strength to hurl one of the Salarians across the infirmary. The alien made contact with the metal hull of the ship and the sound of bone snapping filled the air. He was dead. The Sith Lord turned to the Salarians who were drawing their weapons. Before they could react, the Dark Lord used the Force to rip the weapons from their hands and toss them worthlessly aside. Gathering the energy of the Force around him, Revan was able to render all of the security guards in the room either dead or unconscious with a single wave of Force energy sent out in all directions.
He didn't know why, but the doctor who had been kind to him mere moments before had approached him with a syringe. The faintest changes in the Force had alerted Revan to the physician's ill intent and gave the Sith Master more than enough time to avoid being sedated.
Before more guards could come, the Sith Lord knelt beside a dead body and pulled the small pistol from the owner's dead hand. Studying it quickly, he deduced that the mechanism wasn't so different from a standard issue Republic blaster pistol. He removed the safety from the small side arm and looked to the hallway. It was time to get the hell off of this ship.