A/N: :)
5: An Inescapable Prison
Once back on the Telos,and having safely retreated from the engagement with Kilran's fleet, the computer was installed on the bridge and a course plotted for the Maelstrom Nebula.
"When we reach the nebula," Oteg was explaining, closely watching the tech as she worked. "We will send you ahead in the shuttle and hang back ourselves to intercept any Imperial response. We've been told that a small fleet does protect the facility. It is apparently under the command of our dear friend Moff Kilran."
"So we can expect to be followed." Mariamne crossed her arms. "Are we planning to meet up with another Expeditionary?"
"The nature of the Maelstrom makes large fleet action impractical," Oteg explained. "Sensors are left with a range of several kilometers, and communication is reduced to sublight channels. Trying to organize and maintain large fleet actions in such conditions is nearly impossible — both for Kilran and for us."
She would have found a way, Carth thought, firmly crossing his arms as he leaned against a communications terminal. She'd even the score somehow.
"Or so we hope," he muttered instead. Oteg glanced at him.
"It will be difficult enough to keep our ships from running into one another. Adding more will impede the mission."
"So will being completely overwhelmed by Kilran's fleet," Mariamne replied. "But you're right. Without more advanced communications arrays, we would cause more damage to our own ships than theirs."
The facility's layout was an unknown, as was its blockade force, so they discussed what could happen until they left hyperspace and the stars blurred back to their usual static places, the bright green cloud of the Maelstrom looming just ahead of them.
"Head to your shuttle," Oteg said. "We will follow you in."
They were silent as they strapped in and Carth directed the shuttle out of its temporary bay, towards the looming cloud of stardust and electricity ahead of them. He drew a long, slow breath before increasing the throttle, towards the Maelstrom and whatever was hidden within. Anticipation shook his hands as he tried to convince himself that he was wrong — that the likelihood of her being out here was astronomically low, and thinking otherwise would only lead to disappointment.
Once inside the mass of dust, they could barely see a kilometer out. Constant, slow pings from the fleet behind them were the only indication of their position, giving him a stream of navigable data. Three degrees port, six pitch. Two degrees starboard, negative-one pitch. It was slow going, at sublight speeds — perhaps an hour and a half of silence — but eventually a solid mass began to form out of the swirling green dust. The shuttle broke into a small clearing, the nebula surrounding a large, top-heavy station in slow orbit around a dying star. Behind it he could just see a few Imperial vessels, half-obscured in the dust.
This must be it.
"Ping the Telos," Carth said quietly, half-glancing at Thaymina in the seat next to him. T7 released a quiet dwoo in the back of the shuttle. "Tell them we've found it."
Thaymina nodded and Carth inched the shuttle closer to the station. Hopefully Kilran didn't know they were using an Imperial shuttle — he didn't want to think about getting hit by any capital-ship turbolasers today.
"Oteg says to proceed," she said, looking back up and out the viewport. "We're right in front of them."
Carth nodded silently and pushed the shuttle forward again. "How are we getting abo—"
"Gav?" Thaymina jerked her head at the door, and Carth glanced over his shoulder as Gav'riel leaned down to the comm.
"Imperial Prison 516, this is shuttle 2187," he said gruffly. "Cargo is supplies. Requesting permission to land."
There was a momentary pause. :: Shuttle 2187, landing clearance granted for hangar 5-2-C. Do not leave the hangar bay until permission is granted, you know the drill. ::
"That never works when I try it," Carth muttered. Thaymina chuckled.
"I guess we got lucky," she replied. He guided the shuttle into the directed hangar, releasing a slow breath as he set the shuttle down and killed the engines. Just as they'd lowered the ramp, alarms rang throughout the station, a bright red light flashing above the door.
"That'll be our fleet," Mariamne said, as she readied her lightsabers.
Carth followed the twins, Kira, and Gav'riel onto the loading ramp, closing his eyes briefly when his foot touched the deck. That spot in his chest was warm now, almost pulsing, more like how it felt whenever she was nearby. He drew his blasters, steadying his hands as he followed them through the hangar doors.
It must be her.
#
By the time they reached the end of the winding prison, Carth was absolutely convinced he was right.
It was much more than a feeling by then. He knew deep in his gut that a prison like this could only be intended to house one person — one person who had vanished from the Republic three hundred years ago. No Jedi half as powerful had gone missing since, and most had a presumed location where they'd died. But not her.
Not Revan.
Gav'riel opened the blast doors ahead of them with his fist, a firm tap on the mechanism, and they opened into a wide, open chamber and a walkway arched by supports for power tubing. It was just barely out of view, but the tubing stretched from the edge of the walkway to an hourglass-shaped structure to their left, in the very center of the station. The supports glowed dimly with red light, the center a bright beam of blue light with the vaguest hint of a humanoid form inside it.
More pressing, to his Jedi companions, was the large entourage behind a familiar man wearing the insignia of an Imperial Grand Moff. Kilran himself was unimpressive in person, standing perhaps at Carth's height with the paunchy look of a someone unaccustomed to strenuous combat. He was currently in a terse discussion with the hologram of a broad-shouldered, angry-looking man in a costume that screamed Sith, wearing a prosthetic on the bottom of his face and jaw.
The Malak look never went out of style, then.
"Ah, here they are." Kilran turned to them, casting a single glance back at the hologram. "My lord, I promised to rid you of this nuisance. This embarrassment ends here."
"Malgus," Thaymina murmured, from her position at Carth's left. "Not a Dark Council member, but easily one of the biggest Sith annoyances short of the Emperor himself."
Yeah, Carth thought, he had a face that needed to be shot repeatedly.
"Securing the Emperor's prisoner is your only priority," Malgus ordered gruffly. "Deal with your vendetta another time."
"I'm touched you think there will be another time, Malgus," Mariamne interrupted, her soft voice producing a level of condescension Carth hadn't heard since Revan herself. Kilran released an irritated huff.
Carth again tried for a better look at what had to be the main cell, the target of their rescue mission, in the center of the chamber. As he squinted, he could make out just the barest flash of red, and he felt that tug in his chest pull harder. He tightened his grip on his blasters.
"There is no time like the present, my lord," Kilran replied.
"It's an awful lot of trouble to go through for one prisoner," Thaymina said.
"You don't even know why you're here." Kilran's eyes gleamed with an emotion somewhere between awe and the look a pet cat gets when it swallows a pet bird. "Fascinating." Carth narrowed his eyes as the Moff looked towards him. "Your antique suspects. Perhaps you should ask him."
Carth gripped his blasters until the shaking in his hands ceased, deciding he didn't want to know how the Empire knew of him personally. "Is it her?" he demanded. The corners of Kilran's mouth twitched. "Tell me, you son of a bitch."
"Oh, this will be wonderful," Kilran murmured.
"Perhaps it is better for most to die ignorant." Malgus turned back to Kilran. Carth glared at him, blasters shaking in his hands again. "The Empire salutes you, Grand Moff Kilran. Remember your orders, and I leave you to reclaim your honor."
#
Kilran and his men were barely dead before Carth sprinted up the walkway, eyes locked on the mechanism at the center of the vast chamber. He'd tried to keep from running, but as soon as he got closer, his eyes overruled his caution.
It was her. Revan. His Revan. He skidded to a stop and stared upwards, heart pounding so forcefully he shook .
She hung in the beam of blue light weightlessly, arms floating at her sides and feet dangling limply in the air. Her vivid red hair and enormous robes drifted around her, like she was underwater. Her eyes and lips were closed, chin lolled against her chest, and he dearly hoped she was just asleep — and not the alternative.
He needed to get her down.
"Force," Thaymina breathed as the others caught up with him. Carth didn't move, eyes still locked on the woman in front of him. "T7. Hack this console. Get her down."
T7 chirped and nudged past him, plugging into the console. "Is she alive?" he asked, tearing his eyes away to look at Thaymina. She shook her head.
"I think so. It's hard to tell."
"Is that … her?" Mariamne asked as she took a half-step closer to the console.
"Smaller than I expected," Gav'riel said. Carth nearly managed a half-relieved, half-sincere laugh that died as a croak in his throat.
T7 chirruped, rolling backwards from the console. The blue light flickered, starting to fade, and the fact that she'd fall nearly six feet struck him. Carth lurched forward, grabbing one of the upright bars at the base of the enormous structure, and hauled himself onto the machine. The light flickered again and disappeared, and he lunged to catch her as she dropped. He hooked his arm under her knees, looking her over for injury — she was dangerously light, skin pallid and thin.
She also wasn't breathing.
Carth carefully set her down, brushing dry red hair away from her eyes. Thaymina knelt across from him, resting her hand on his as he started to check for injuries on Revan's small form.
"I'm a healer," she said, gently moving his hand away. "Let me."
Carth hovered nervously, watching as she gently began to examine Revan's still form. He sat back, hard, when she took a large, gasping breath, followed by another. Thaymina pulled back when Revan flung her arm out, gasping for air as she pushed herself halfway up. Finally her eyes, still their stormy gray, shot open and she lurched to her feet, back to the console that had controlled her prison. Carth pushed himself to his feet, breath catching in his throat as she tapped away, muttering a progressively more vehement strain of obscenities in at least sixteen different languages.
"Fantastic," she finally grumbled as her shoulders slumped, and Revan turned back. She crossed her arms and rested her hips heavily against the console behind her. "Well. How did you lot find me out here in the middle of …" She looked around. "Wherever the hell we are?"
"We heard you," Thaymina said. "In the Force. Are you … are you really Revan?"
She frowned, pressing her lips into a thin line as she studied the four Jedi. When her gaze settled on Carth, his heart raced again — she drew a sharp breath, her eyes widening for the briefest moment before she closed them. Revan drew another deep breath in through her nose and returned her eyes to the willowy Jedi in front of her.
"Revanna Galon, the Revanchist, Darth Revan, the Prodigal Knight, Hero of the Star Forge, 'that Jedi bitch,' whatever makes you feel better," she said, with a sharp nod. Carth's heart tapped out another rough staccato. "You heard me?"
"Yes," Thay answered. "What you were saying … it sounded like you desperately needed help."
"Well." Revan sighed. "While I appreciate no longer being the Emperor's favorite punching bag, I was attempting to keep him from making the galaxy's tenuous peace worse. Hopefully removing me from stasis will not change that, but …" She looked up. "We shouldn't linger."
"No," Mariamne agreed. "Gav, Kira, we'll secure a shuttle."
The three Jedi headed back down the catwalks. Thaymina and Revan watched them go, but Carth couldn't tear his eyes away from her.
She looked so tired.
"How were you keeping the Emperor from —"
"When he put me into this contraption three hundred years ago, he created a neural link with my mind." Revan turned back to the console and input a command, and the side of the machine popped out. "It allowed him to go through my head at whim, looking for the information he wanted. Also, to make sure no one else poses the same threat to him that I do. Little things like that." She reached in and drew out a pair of thin lightsaber hilts — Carth recognized them, the same ones she'd used during the war — and clipped them to her belt. She followed with a metal cube about the size of both her hands, and frowned. "Hopefully I can use my considerable knowledge to aid the Republic. The Emperor cannot be allowed to continue. He is up to something … what, I'm not sure. But now that I'm free, he'll move ahead quickly. Or…" She tapped the cube with a finger as she turned back.
"Or he'll try to kill me. Probably the latter. Either way, once he's aware that most of his link to my mind has been broken, he'll be turning the fleet towards here. I'm sure you are all very capable, but I would prefer to avoid first-hand combat until the room stops spinning. Any further questions will have to wait."
"That's it?" Carth finally said. Revan drew another sharp breath, staring down at the box in her hands. "You're not even going to say anything to me?"
She released a slow stream of air, a brief flash of pain contorting her features. "I understand I'm going to have side effects from the process used on me, if I am correct," she replied quietly, "but I will not acknowledge a hallucination. Regardless of what I want to believe, it has been three hundred years, and I know you couldn't have survived."
Carth blinked a couple times as Thaymina looked between them. He stepped forward, and Revan stepped back against the console.
"I'm … I'm not a hallucination, gorgeous."
"Don't," she whispered, her voice breaking. The tone cut into his chest, nearly making him short of breath. "Please, anything but that."
"Revan," Thaymina finally interrupted. She glanced over her shoulder, back down at the catwalk. "If you're speaking to Carth … I can see him. He is here."
She looked at the willowy Jedi, then back to Carth, and shook her head. "No. It isn't possible."
He closed the distance between them, gently resting his hands on her shoulders. Revan almost flinched away, a weak gasp parting her lips as she looked up. The knife in his heart twisted at the desperate look she gave him — disbelief pleading to be wrong. Carth pulled his hand up and cupped the side of her face, swallowing as her shoulders sagged and she closed her eyes.
"I …" He searched her face. A hallucination? How could he prove he wasn't, if this wasn't enough? Carth darted his tongue out to wet his lips. "So, uh… right after we'd moved in together—" He spotted Thaymina retreating down the catwalks out of the corner of his eye, "— I invited Dustil over for dinner, and you wanted to … you tried to cook." The knife in his chest receded a bit when she nearly laughed, shoulders lurching under his hand. "I found you sopping wet in our kitchen from the sprinklers, holding a spoon. You looked so miserable, and all I could think…"
He shook his head, and closed the last distance between their lips. She barely tasted like he remembered, too sharp, like fire and blood and resignation. But Revan sobbed into him, one arm snaking around his neck, and he pretended not to notice.
"And T3 told you I hit him with a spoon," she whispered against his lips. "And you laughed for an hour."
Carth kissed her again, harder this time, trying vainly to tell her what he couldn't say. That he'd been terrified that his gamble hadn't paid off, angry that she'd left, angry that she'd never come back, desperate to know she was alive …
"How?" she finally whispered, pulling away from him. He half-laughed and looked away.
"I… froze myself in carbonite," he said sheepishly. Revan stared at him, shaking her head.
"Oh gods," she said. "You ass."
"Just got an alert over the comms," Thaymina called. They tore apart, looking down the catwalks. "The fleet's cut off their pursuit and are heading in this direction. We need to leave."
T7 chirped behind them and rolled ahead, past Thaymina. Revan stared after the droid.
"Who's that?"
"T7."
"I want one."
He laughed, taking her hand and twining their fingers together. "Let's get you out of here, gorgeous."