From Across the Galaxies
Chapter IV: Meet the Crew
Dr. Chakwas nodded as she added one last notation into her report before closing the file on her laptop. Once she had finished this, the former Alliance medical officer stood up and turned to her patient. "Physically, you're in perfect condition," she told him as she walked over to his bed. "You don't seem to be suffering from any negative side effects of cryogenics."
If Revan felt any relief at the prognosis, he hid it well. He simply sat up from the bed that he had been lying on and reached over to grab his shirt, which he pulled on over his head. "Where are my things?" he asked her. Before she could answer, he hopped off of the small medical bed and started rotating his shoulders to stretch out the aches. The coma may not have had any long term physical effects as far as the good doctor's medical equipment detected but Revan could tell her that being locked in a small box for so long gave a person a charlie-horse that didn't want to go away. All of his joints ached and felt like they needed to be properly stretched. Some good aerobics training or a good run would hopefully be enough to get the painful kinks out.
"The possessions that we received with your pod are in my office. I'll get them for you as soon as I've done your psychological evaluation."
Revan didn't like being told what to do. Still, perhaps being more cooperative with his hosts this time would result in him not being shot and put into a stasis pod for two years. He still couldn't believe that it had been so long already. It had felt like the blink of an eye to him. One minute, the searing pain of a bullet lodging itself in his shoulder blade overcame him. The next, he was on a different ship entirely and it was two years later. While it logically made perfect sense, the experience had a surreal effect on his mind. What could have changed in his own sector of space while he had been asleep?
The thought of Bastila in control of the Sith on her own had crossed his mind more than once. While she had always been an integral part of his plan to conquer the Republic, Revan knew that she didn't have the leadership qualities to rule. Her emotions had always gotten the better of her. They dictated her actions far too easily. It wouldn't surprise him to learn that she had thrown the entire empire away in an attempt to find him. The idea made him feel nauseous. All of the work that he had done in order to bring about the end of the Jedi Order had taken him years to complete. The fact that the Sith had managed to invade Coruscant had been an impressive feat in itself. He swallowed the rising bile in his throat at the idea that everything was gone.
"Two years," he murmured to himself as he shook his head.
Before anything else could occur, the sleek metal door of the medical wing slid open and Miranda Lawson strolled into the room. The Cerberus Operative greeted the doctor politely. Upon her entry, Chakwas, quietly picked up a datapad and left the two of them alone. Once the door slid shut again, Miranda addressed Revan.
"Hello," she said casually as she leaned against the doctor's desk and crossed her arms. "My name is Miranda Lawson. I'm the second-in-command aboard this ship."
Revan scoffed as he sized up the young woman. She stood at an average height for a human woman and had a moderate build. Her form fitting body suit did not hide her well-toned muscle structure or ample feminine form. As he examined her, the Dark Lord tried to get a sense of her background. Her appearance indicated to him that she was a very capable woman but her stance and demeanor did not imply a military background. Instead, she stood very casually with both hands in plain sight. Neither was near enough to the weapon hanging on her belt to be called strategically placed. Furthermore, her wavy chocolate colored hair ended around the middle of her back. No female soldier that he had ever met kept their hair in such a state. They were smart enough to either cut their hair or to style it in a way that made it as small as possible. Hair was easy to grip. It could be used against a woman. This "second-in-command" didn't seem to care or worry about such things.
"Is there something you find funny?" Miranda asked as one of her eyebrows elevated. She did not like being disrespected. Revan hadn't even said a single word yet and he had already mocked her with a simple grunt. The Cerberus Operative immediately got the sense that she would not like this man very much.
"Nothing at all. What can I do for you, oh second-in-command?" he replied as he began to twist his trunk in an attempt to work out the stiffness.
"Watch your tone when you speak to me," she reprimanded the former Sith Lord.
A smirk crossed his pale features and the Dark Lord stopped his stretching to lock eyes with the lovely young woman. His amber eyes pried straight into her sapphire ones. Immediately, he began to search her aura. Miranda's will was stronger than most but he still managed to avoid her mental blocks and start looking through her memories. He saw a man, foreboding and powerful looking down on a younger version of the ship's second-in-command. He saw that same child sneaking into a nursery, swooping a baby up into her arms. The emotional turbulence attached to these memories felt intense. He hadn't expected to find such potent experiences so quickly.
"Stop it!" Miranda shouted violently as the sub-machine gun on her belt was suddenly in her hand and trained on Revan.
The former Lord of the Sith pulled out of her mind and shook his head quickly. In less than a moment, he had regained his senses of the present and calculated the situation unfolding. Revan quickly sidestepped in order to get away from the gun and proceeded to step forward, grab her forearm, and twist it aside. Miranda's grip on her weapon loosened. The gun started to fall towards the ground but Revan, with his offhand, reached forward and slid his hand around the grip. His finger slid around the trigger and the barrel of the gun was suddenly buried in the woman's stomach.
The two locked eyes again. Both snarled at one another viciously. Miranda still had a hand free but she feared what might happen if she tried to struggle with the new recruit. The weapon could discharge and hit either one of them. While she didn't particularly care if Revan came to any harm, her own safety was of a higher priority. She also felt a bit unnerved by the flashes from her memory that he had just triggered. Knowing nothing at all of the Force or Revan's uniquely powerful control of it, Miranda had absolutely no idea what he had done to her.
"Second-in-command," Revan repeated with another scoff. "What a joke." He loosened his grip in her forearm and lowered the weapon that he had taken from her. As he turned and walked over to his bed, he began to inspect the small gun thoughtfully. The mechanism was radically different from anything that he had ever seen before. While the basic shape and trigger system clearly paralleled the blaster pistols used in his own part of the galaxy, the rest of it looked completely foreign to him.
Miranda's jaw dropped ever so slightly at having been let go in such a manner. The bastard hadn't just disengaged for no apparent reason but he also had the nerve to turn his back on her. She could easily have another weapon hidden away and he had no way of knowing whether or not she was a biotic. The fact that he felt so secure against her as to let his guard down utterly and completely stunned the poor woman. She had never felt so insulted in her life. Moreover, she had never felt so defeated in her life. Even as trapped as she had felt while living with her father on Bekenstein, she had never felt like she had no way of retaliating. There was always a way to fight back. In less than thirty seconds, this enigmatic man had managed to get passed her utterly and completely.
"Yes, I did," Revan said, answering her unspoken thought. "And I can do it again, whenever I please."
Miranda shivered as she looked at him. He stood there, leading against the medical bed. His hands were idly playing with her sidearm while his eyes remained completely fixated on her. A dark smile danced across his lips as he watched her. The Cerberus Operative could see the pure and utter evil in this man that they had brought aboard their ship. She began to question whether or not the Illusive Man had doomed them all by forcing them to wake up this maniac. Even Shepard, to whom Miranda begrudgingly admitted to being an inferior fighter, would be hard pressed to fight this man. The speed with which he had caught her gun didn't seem human.
"Why don't you tell me why this 'Illusive Man' had you wake me up," the Sith Lord said conversationally, enjoying the mental game of cat and mouse he had started. He really had no need to ask any questions. Miranda's natural mental barriers had been shot to hell already. Anything that he wanted to know was at his fingertips. Still, he needed her to know that he was in command. He needed her to know that she was his little kinrath pup and he was the master. Miranda bit her lip, unsure of how to respond. She wanted to stand her ground. Ever since fleeing her father's control, the dark haired beauty had always been defiant. Revan could sense this and rolled his eyes. "Daddy's not here to see his little girl break down and cry. Save us both some time and tuck your tail between yours legs and tell me what I want to know."
Miranda turned and simply started to walk away. The door to the medical wing slid open and allowed her to exit freely. Revan decided not to stop her. He had proven his point and someone on the ship would tell him, sooner or later. He just needed to be patient. In the meantime, he hadn't eaten in nearly two years. It was time to find someone who could help him with that. He tossed Miranda's gun carelessly on Dr. Chakwas's desk and left the room.
Less than an hour had passed and Revan had eaten his fill of the somewhat bland military grade food that the mess sergeant had given to him. He sat at the table in the mess hall, rocking back and forth on his chair's hind legs and eyeing his nearly empty plate idly when he was again approached by someone. This time, the dark skinned man that had been introduced to him as Officer Jacob Taylor approached. The Dark Lord glanced up at the soldier as he came nearer. His aura didn't have the same anxiety in it that Miranda's had had. He also didn't appear to be angry or confrontational in any way, leading Revan to believe that his encounter with the ship's soon to be third-in-command had gone unreported.
Jacob stood at formal attention and saluted Revan, which brought a smirk to the former general's lips. "Been awhile since anyone's done that to me," he commented as he let his chair fall onto all fours. He stood up and extended a warm handshake to the more pleasant Cerberus operative.
"You mentioned that you had been in the military," the dark skinned man replied with a shrug.
"What can I do for you, Mr. Taylor?"
"Shepard sent me down. I'm supposed to get you outfitted for combat. Once we're done with that, the commander wants to see you."
"If someone would just return my possessions to me, I would be outfitted for combat," he told the other man in as polite a tone as he could manage.
"I'm the one who turned your things over to Dr. Chakwas," Jacob admitted. "The armor looked pretty beat up. Not sure if it'd be much good to you anymore."
That genuinely made Revan very angry to hear but he curved his emotions and chose not to last out. Instead, he simply sighed very deeply. "When you were handling my possessions, did you by any chance happen to notice two small cylinders? They would have looked a bit like the handles of swords."
"Yeah," Jacob answered. "Didn't know what they were so I didn't touch them."
Revan silently thanked the Force. Unlike Miranda, ever sentence that Jacob uttered made him like the other soldier better. He had the good sense to leave something that he didn't understand alone, rather than stick a sub-machine gun in its face. His lightsaber was at least there. If it had been damaged at all, he would be able to repair it. Just having the Sith weapon back in his possession would be a great relief.
Jacob did himself even greater justice when he managed to requisition all of Revan's supplies from Dr. Chakwas before a psychological exam. "On your heads!" the older woman had shouted as the former Alliance soldier emerged from her office with a sealed metal box in hand. He had walked directly over to Revan's table in the adjoining mess hall and had set the box down directly in front of him.
"Lock combination is 1291," he told the newly recruited Sith Lord.
Eagerly, Revan punched in the combination on the small number pad. The pressurized unit depressed, much like his cryopod, and slid open sleekly. Inside were all of the possessions that he had had on his person when the Sith had attacked Coruscant. His armor, as Jacob had mentioned, had been horribly mistreated. The once immaculate black robes were now a dull gray color and had several signs of wear. The armored breastplate and helmet had both been scanned with some sort of device that had left the paint scrapped off. The durable, yet flexible material had been worn down terribly.
He pushed the armor away dourly and moved onto the tactical mask that had been stored beneath his robes. The helmet and mask set hadn't seen quite as much abuse as the armor had. The black color had still faded and the optics were probably suffering from dust contamination but it looked to be in order. Hopefully he could restore the functionality of his visor's HUD and get it working again. If so, he'd feel just a little bit more secure in combat. If the blasted thing had been completely ruined, he'd probably be able to cannibalize the internal components in order to create a new system in a new helmet or mask.
The mask got set beside the folded armor and Revan looked to find the last few items. A couple of other items were still inside of the box. His boots and gloves were neatly stored in the corner of the unit. The utility belt that he used to wear had been curled up and attached items had been removed and placed in seal bags. Such items included two military grade plasma grenades, extra power cells for his modified hold out pistol, his modified hold out pistol, and his lightsabers.
The Dark Lord withdrew the Sith weapon from its bag and stood up from his seat. "What is it?" Jacob asked. Revan didn't answer for a moment. He simply extended his arm, indicating that the other man should stay back. He complied quickly as a curious frown crossed his features.
The golden electrum that coated the hilt of the inactive lightsaber felt cold in his hand, which wasn't surprising considering the fact that it had been in a cold, air tight unit for the better part of two years. This particular lightsaber had been built on Dantooine, while he had still been suffering from the effects of the Jedi mind wipe. Under the supervision of Jedi Master Zhar, he had crafted the device as part of one of his Initiate Trials. The crystal had been set damn near perfectly, creating a nearly flawless blade. They had told him that it had been an impressive feat, for a beginner. It had been several months later before he finally realized that it had been muscle memory that had guided him that day. Beginner's luck had nothing to do with it.
Ever since then, he had taken excellent care of the lightsaber. After building it on Dantooine, he had added the electrum coat to the hilt on Manaan while he had had some downtime. The engravings that had been etched into the finish were done on Tatooine, while Bastila reunited with her estranged mother. Finally, the brilliant blue crystal that had been given to him by the Jedi had been replaced with a more traditional crimson one on Korriban, where he had gone into the Sith Academy under the pretense of being a new student.
That very blade had slain hundreds in the seven months that it had seen use. Countless Jedi, Dark Jedi, disloyal Sith, smugglers, gangsters, creatures, aliens, and droids had fallen to it on his quest to rediscover the Star Forge. This blade had pierced the heart of Darth Bandon, cleaved the head of Darth Malak, and had After reclaiming his mantle as Lord of the Sith, it had seen slightly less use. He had retired to positions of leadership, where less action had occurred. His troops had done most of his killing for him at that point. The only real usage that he had had for the weapon after becoming a Sith Lord again had been on the day that he had launched his assault on Coruscant.
Revan's finger depressed the activation button on the shaft and the crimson blade sprang forward, hissing violently as it did. The hum of a lightsaber filled the air and Jacob's curiosity only deepened. Testing his shoulder lightly, he swung the weapon a couple of time.
"What is that?" Jacob asked the Sith Lord.
"It's my lightsaber," he answered. "It's a weapon. Don't touch the blade."
Jacob had already managed to deduce all of that, save for the name. With a shrug, he commented, "Looks pretty handy in close quarters. Wouldn't try it out in a gunfight though."
"You'd be surprised," was all that Revan said as he closed down the weapon. He turned to face the Cerberus Operative, directly. "You mentioned outfitting me for combat?"
Jacob smiled.
Just a few minutes later, the two soldiers entered the armory, where Jacob spent the vast majority of his time while off duty. A series of tables throughout the small room were covered with a myriad of guns that varied in shape and size. "You commented that you were from another sector of space," the ship's official weapon's master stated. "How much do you know about conventional firearms?"
"Not much," the Sith Lord stated honestly as he walked to a nearby table. "I understand the concept of point and shoot. The actual mechanics of your weapons are still new to me though."
"There's not a lot too it," Jacob replied. "Every gun has a block of metal stored inside. The mass accelerator inside shaves a small piece of that metal off and projects it down the barrel. That metal acts as a bullet. You can figure out the result." Jacob picked up a standard issue M-3 Predator Heavy Pistol and handed it to Revan. "The mass accelerator is sensitive to heat though. Every time it fires, it builds up heat in the chamber. If the accelerator overheats, the gun is worthless until it cools down."
"Seems like that would become a problem fairly quickly," Revan commented as he inspected the gun in his hand.
"It can be. That's why the Alliance developed Thermal Clip technology. Newer weapons store the mass accelerator in thermal clips, which can be ejected when they overheat. Inserting a new clip lets you pick up right where you left off."
Revan ejected the thermal clip from the gun that he was holding. It seemed to be no bigger than the typical shell casing of a standard bullet that primitive planets on the Outer Rim still used. He reinserted it into the heavy pistol and removed the safety. He raised his arms and examined the sights on the weapon. With a simple nod, the former Jedi turned the weapon back over to Jacob.
"Bit primitive by our standards but it'll do," the Dark Lord commented.
Jacob didn't know what he meant by "primitive." The technology used aboard the Cerberus vessel was the most advanced in all of Citadel space. Most of the weapons had even been upgraded using black market modifications. Still, he considered Revan to be a bit of an enigma and simply let the statement stand unquestioned.
"Shepard authorized to give you a heavy pistol and an assault rifle," the dark skinned man told his newest comrade. "But he also wanted you to know that I could clear you for other weapons if they suited you better."
"Just the pistol will do," Revan answered with a nod. "Assault rifles are too cumbersome for my tastes."
"I could requisition a sub-machine gun for you," Jacob offered. "They're smaller and you'd still have the rapid fire option available."
Revan considered the option for just a moment before he nodded. That seemed suitable. Besides, he could always change his mind later. Jacob walked over to a nearby wall panel and placed his eye level with the LCD screen. The panel performed a quick retina scan before it flashed green. Once it did, Jacob straightened up and quickly keyed in a few commands on the touch screen. He turned away from the screen and moved over to a nearby table that held a series of SMGs. Grabbing one, the former Alliance soldier walked back over to Revan and turned it over to him. In addition, he retrieved the Predator pistol that had been set aside and gave him that as well.
"If you need to change up your gear later, let me know. I'd be more than happy to help you out."
"Thank you, Jacob. What about armor though? Mine is in bad shape and I don't think my robes will do much good against bullets."
Jacob chuckled at the understatement. "Standard hard suits are pretty much all we've got around here. They're effective and they can be used in conjunction with shields and barriers, so they're kinda popular with military types. Miranda and Dr. Solus don't particularly seem to like them though. Both of them just go in with ramped up shielding."
"Doesn't seem safe."
"I agree," Jacob replied. "But they haven't died so far. Haven't seen the good doctor in action myself, though."
"Well I'm not so narcissistic as to go into a fight without armor. Suit me up."
Jacob was more than willing to comply. He quickly requisitioned a standard suit from the ship's computer systems. Once the suit had been properly taken out of storage, Revan donned it quickly, showing no care for his decency in front of the other soldier. It was a simple gray hard suit with a standard helmet. The former Sith Lord quickly stretched out all of his joints and muscles, testing the mobility of the new armor. He didn't like the fact that the entire suit was one unit. It made repairing the armor more difficult if damage came to it.
While he was still testing his new armor, the two soldiers were interrupted by Commander Shepard, who entered the room fully outfitted for combat. "Jacob," the newly revived former Spectre acknowledged as he entered.
"Commander," Jacob answered as he snapped off a quick salute.
Shepard quickly turned his attention to Revan, who had not looked up from the suit of armor that he was wearing. He frowned at the lack of interest that the newest crewman showed towards his commanding officer. Nonetheless, he didn't feel the need to make a big deal out of it. Miranda had respect issues too. As long as everyone did their jobs, Shepard didn't much care what sort of attitude problems they had.
"We're coming up on the prison ship, Purgatory," he informed both of the other two men. "Joker's ETA puts us on their doorstep in about ten minutes."
"Jack?" Jacob questioned thoughtfully with a shiver. "I read the dossier, Sir. Doesn't sound stable."
"Neither did this one," Shepard replied with a short gesture towards Revan.
It was at this point that the former Sith Lord at last looked up from his armor inspection and addressed the commander. "For all you know, I am unstable." Revan's eyebrow raised, giving both of the Cerberus soldiers an unnerving feeling. A smile cracked across his lips as he turned his attention to the SMG that Jacob had given to him.
"I want you and Garrus ready to board that ship," Shepard said as he turned his attention away from Revan.
"Aye aye." Jacob turned to Revan. "You alright here?" he asked.
Revan didn't even bother to look up from his new gun. "I'll be fine," he replied dully.
Jacob nodded and quickly exited the room, taking only his weapons with him. Revan didn't even bother to acknowledge his absence. Shepard, on the other hand, seemed to have been waiting for it. Once the other man had left, the former Spectre straightened up and fastened his hands behind his back.
"Do you have a minute?" he asked in the neutral voice that he had developed over the years specifically for talking to new crewmen or allies that he hadn't quite gotten a read on.
The Dark Lord glanced up at his "commanding officer" and put the SMG aside. "I can talk," he answered with a shrug. "What do you want?"
"I like to the know who I'm working with," Shepard answered honestly. "It's always better to know if the man who's got your back would mind if something happened to you."
"Then I'll be blunt," Revan stated sternly. "I wouldn't."
"That's not the response I was hoping for," the Alliance soldier managed through a stunned laugh.
"Shepard, I get the impression that you're a good soldier. The people around here seem to like you. Unfortunately, that means next to nothing to me. I come from a galaxy that would make war on the scale that you know it look like a joke. The civilization that I invaded spans hundreds of planets and trillions of citizens and I nearly brought them to their knees. Where does that put you next to me?"
A dark line crossed Shepard's face and the small fiery colored scars that marred his skin grafts seemed to burn with his anger. Still, a sarcastic smile crossed his features. "And a single groups of scientists put you down like a rabid dog," the Cerberus commander quipped. "Maybe you had ships and men back where you come from, Revan, or maybe you're delusional and none of it ever existed. You're nothing here. The Illusive Man thinks you might be good for something, but this is my ship. If I want you gone, you're gone. We clear?"
"That threat might have been scary if I thought that you had the slightest means of following through on it." Revan stood up straight and walked right up to the commander. They were practically nose and nose with one another. The Alliance Marine stood just an inch or two higher than the former Sith Lord but their builds were very similar. Just by looking at the two of them, it would be very difficult to tell which would be the sturdier in a fight.
"Why do you feel the need to be antagonistic towards everyone on this ship?" he demanded. "We saved you. If the council had ever found your stasis pod, you would have been executed without trial or representation."
"You didn't save me because you're a hero, Shepard," Revan sneered back. "You needed me for something that you couldn't handle on your own. You're no better than the Jedi."
The reference meant nothing to Shepard. Nonetheless, he felt the need to end this confrontation before things got too out of hand. "You're confined to the ship until further notice," he spat at the other man. "Stay on the crew deck."
With that, the former Spectre turned and stormed out of the room, leaving a bemused Revan behind.