10: A Fickle Food on a Shifting Plate
Coruscant was in a buzz by the time they landed.
The Jedi had contacted High Command and informed them that they'd "found" former Admiral Carth Onasi in carbonite and defrosted him but, apart from a couple of Command meetings where they'd determined he didn't know very much, there was little fanfare. Revan, though … Revan's strategies were still taught in the military, and Revan's genius was legendary both in and outside it. The Jedi's claim that Revan had been found, then—
Current historical opinion was, of course, that Revan was a human male of vague origin who had disappeared into the Unknown Regions after saving the Republic, and something something "Sith Lord." A few high-ranking military aides had leaked the rumor about Revan to the press, along with all the relevant details, and it ignited a firestorm of contention. Several highly regarded Mandalorian War era historians accepted the news, citing records of Revan's androgynous appearance in the Mandalorian Wars until their faked death in the Jedi Civil War. Upon learning her name and the alias she'd used in the Jedi Civil War, they stated that she solved the mystery of a female Jedi, the darling of a hundred conspiracy theories, who was never reported dead or even missing of the same name. It also solved conflict over the identity of the hero of the Jedi Civil War, who some primary sources claimed was female, not male.
Other experts immediately circled their speeders, vehemently denying that this woman could be the former Revan, and that all historical evidence of the last three hundred years indicated that their previous conclusions were correct. It resulted in a large series of articles that came out nearly overnight, the first entitled Revan: Have they really been found? and spawning an immediate series of A Comment On… and In Response To … articles, resulting in the closest thing historical academics have to a bloody cagefight.
The media latched onto it immediately, and so did the public. Conspiracy theory sites crashed under the weight of millions of visit, and Revan's page on the Holopedia jumped from several million views to close to billions within the span of a few hours as editors fought over proposed changes to it. Morning holonews shows cashed in on the conflict by inviting parties from all sides to argue during the morning commute. Someone in the Senate Tower reported that the Supreme Chancellor had shut himself inside his office with the vidscreen turned on max volume.
The Empire was uncomfortably silent.
The sparks were still flying by the time a Council shuttle set down near the Senate and Revan, Carth, and a large Jedi escort stepped out into the lights of several hundred media drones and barking reporters.
"Right," Revan said. "I forgot I hated this."
Carth didn't reply, one hand tight on his blaster and the other holding onto her belt.
Not far out of the spaceport, she self-consciously tugged the hood of the heavy robe she'd taken when they'd left Tython, hiding her face in thick shadows. "I kind of miss my mask," she muttered. Carth kept close to her as they made their way to the Senate plaza and into the enormous Senate tower, accosted by media personnel. Senate guards finally stopped their entourage, and Revan released a sigh of relief once they were out of sight.
"I am glad to see our meeting was kept secret," Satele grumbled with a sigh. "Follow me."
They made their way to the briefing room, and Revan finally lowered her hood. Satele opened the door into a large room, somehow standing-room only. Individuals with more metal on their chests than in an entire cruiser sat in front, surrounded by a veritable sea of generals, admirals, aides, and at least one full squad of Republic SpecOps soldiers.
"I thought I was having an introductory meeting, not giving a lecture," Revan grumbled. Carth couldn't help a small grin.
"Apparently they forgot about, you know. The Sith thing."
"I can't say I'm not glad they haven't broken out the stun-cuffs yet," she replied. "At least the media's still outside."
Being introduced to the higher echelons of Republic command alone took nearly a half-hour, during which she was barraged with a variety of names, ranks, and notable service in battles she'd never heard of. Finally she was ushered to a chair at a table facing the rest of the room, which almost immediately fell silent. Carth hung back on the edge of the crowd, running a finger along the butt of his blaster.
"As you may be aware," Satele said without any hint of sarcasm, addressing the room with her usual neutral expression. Revan studied the ceiling for a moment as she leaned back in her chair, hooking one knee over the other. "Recently, a Jedi operation infiltrated an Imperial prison in the Maelstrom Nebula. We have confirmed for ourselves that the individual held there is, in fact, the —"
"I can handle this part, thanks, Grand Master," Revan said, and motioned to herself as Satele nodded and took a seat in front. "Revanna Galon, though — as she would have insinuated eventually — better remembered as either Jedi General Revan, of the Mandalorian Wars, or Darth Revan, for the first two and a half years of the Jedi Civil War. I wanted to cut the introduction short, as I'm sure you have questions."
There was a slight pause, and one of the admirals leaned forward. "If you are Revan," he said. "How have you survived three hundred years? You should be long dead."
"The … actual mechanisms would be difficult to explain," she replied. "And I don't mean that in — even I don't fully understand them. It involved a combination of Sith alchemy and the Force."
"Why, though?" A second admiral spoke. "Why go through the effort to keep you alive for so long?"
She sighed. "Again … that is difficult to explain. When Malak and I disappeared after the Mandalorian Wars, it was the Empire we found. There are certain … aspects of my person that caught the Emperor's attention then. When I returned sans-memories after the Jedi Civil War, not only did I possess information he needed locked behind my amnesia, but I now posed a serious threat to him. It was safer to completely restrain me until he had the information he needed, which would also allow him to study me and reassure himself that I was an anomaly, not the rule."
"What do you mean?"
"Again, it's difficult to explain to non-Force users." She motioned with her hands as she tried to explain. "Most Jedi only achieve mastery of the Force through rigid dedication and discipline. Most Sith only achieve it through reliance on strong, powerful, emotion, which is how they achieve such raw power. This difference is why it often takes two or more Jedi to take down an accomplished Sith Lord, while a Sith Lord can easily devastate a lone Jedi. Most of my life has been a string of Masters attempting to determine why my connection to the Force as a child outstripped many of the most disciplined Masters, or the strongest Sith. The Emperor's curiosity was no different."
"And that's it?"
"It's the version I can give you that doesn't require delving into the mechanisms of Force sensitivity, yes. And I think we can all agree we don't have time for me to explain those."
"But you cannot confirm whether you—" A general started. Revan leaned forward on the table with a frown.
"Battle of Duro," she said. "When the Jedi were still only members of the Mercy Corps, not Generals. I seized control of a fleet from Admiral Gorhal during a Mandalorian ambush. In the face of a superior force I adapted a ground flanking tactic on the fly — pulling the center of the fleet back, allowing smaller, lighter ships to encircle the Mandalorian fleet as they gave chase. In a battle that should have cost the Republic a dreadnought, two battle cruisers, three heavy cruisers, six Hammerhead-class ships, and most of the light capital ships, there were no losses and only one ship needed major repairs — while the opposing fleet was completely obliterated."
"You can believe me, or you can not. It doesn't matter. But if I am who I say I am, can you really afford to pass up the strategic miracles I was able to pull out of thin air? You can vet my strategies if you want, have me run simulation tests, hell, I'm sure there's a gene-print somewhere — doesn't particularly matter to me. But I think we all know you can't afford to lose the chance."
#
The larger meeting lasted another few hours, during which a droid working in the Corellian Museum of Military History happened to locate a biometric ID supposedly belonging to Revan themselves. After that, it was quite easy to confirm her identity. Carth noticed with some relief that the tension eased a little from her shoulders.
Afterward, around four hours later, the room was cleared until it was just members of High Command, Satele, and them. The topic changed to the nearing end of the Cold War. Revan was immediately in the thick of it, citing fleet strengths and locations of strategic importance.
"If you were a prisoner, how did you learn so much about the Imperial military?" one of the generals asked. "According to Intelligence, the Emperor is mostly hands-off."
"That's what the Emperor wants you to think," she said. "Appearing absent helps his own interests. He definitely knows what's going on at all times."
"Then why not wield his influence directly?"
"I never figured that out. I'm certain there's a reason, but I only had cursory contact with his side of the link." Revan leaned back in her chair precariously. "He's up to something, that much I know. I'm not sure what, but we should probably be worried about it."
By the time they left the Senate tower, it was late in the Coruscanti afternoon. The media crowd had dispersed and the plaza was back to its usual bustle of aides and politicians. Carth and Revan broke off from their Jedi escort and found a quiet corner of the memorial gardens, Revan leaning heavily on her forearms against the railing. Carth rested one hand on the railing, and settled the other gently on her back. Even after the day's meetings, the idea that he had her back was still so unbelieveable that he feared she wasn't really there — and he knew she felt the same. She straightened and leaned into him, resting her head against his chest.
"I'm surprised we got away from Satele," Carth murmured. Revan snorted.
"There's ten Jedi within jumping distance," she replied. "And about seven more within earshot, including Satele. Don't worry. The Grand Master isn't quite ready to let me out of her sights just yet."
"Almost as bad as being locked in the Temple after the Star Forge?" he asked. She nestled down in his chest.
"Better," she murmured. "I have you this time—"
Something roared behind them, and Revan pulled away as they both turned. One of their Jedi escort had stopped someone behind them, a large Wookiee holding a holocomm that looked absolutely minuscule in their hands. Revan jogged back, with Carth on her heels.
"Anna—"
"Sh," she said, reaching them just as at least three other Jedi — including Satele — appeared a few meters away. "What's the problem here?"
"This W—"
"I have a message," the Wookiee interrupted, holding up the holocomm. "I am Khemmaa. One of our elders on Kashyyyk wishes to speak with Jedi Revan."
"Uh." Revan glanced back at Carth. He shrugged.
"Zaalbar?" he mouthed. Revan echoed his shrug as she motioned the Jedi aside.
"I'd be honored," she said, narrowing her eyes and shaking her head at Satele. She motioned the other Jedi away as the Wookiee waved them after her. They were led back into the Tower, to a side office, with at least three Jedi tailing them — Revan kept a close eye on them. Carth read the sign on the door with a surprised frown.
"Kashyyyk joined the Republic?"
Their guide nodded. "Largely through the efforts of my father. He encouraged us, and used some of his connections to help — including with your Order." She crouched down at a large holoterminal and keyed in a code.
"Connections with the Jedi?" Revan looked back at Carth. "There's only one Wookiee that could be."
Carth nodded as a hologram of a large, stooped Wookiee leaning heavily on a thick cane appeared above the terminal. He studied them for a moment, until recognition finally dawning in his eyes. Revan and Carth traded a glance — for them both, it'd only been a few years since they'd seen him.
"Zaalbar?" Revan said, softly.
"Anna!" Zaalbar exclaimed. "Part of me did not think I would live to see you return. And Carth — I thought you were dead."
Revan translated, and Carth rubbed the back of his neck. "It's a long story."
"I'm sure." He adjusted his grip on his cane.
"So you led the Wookiees to join the Republic?" Revan asked. "All within three hundred years?"
"After I returned, we finished driving Czerka off the world — for good," he said. "But I knew the Republic was our safest choice. Czerka would return, in one year or hundreds — it wouldn't matter. With the Republic, we would have resources to fall back on when they did. I gathered our clans in Rwookrrorro and we discussed it. We've had a presence on Coruscant for around one hundred standard years, now."
"Good," Revan replied. "It's high time the Wookiees took their place in the galaxy."
"It was, and we've started to." Zaalbar looked down at himself with a sigh. "I do not think I can resume my life-debt to you, Anna. I—"
She held up her hand. "I told you that you owed me nothing when I left."
"I know. But I have been on Kashyyyk for fifty years now — I would be lying if I said I did not miss the stars. But I am afraid I would simply burden you."
Revan quickly translated, and immediately scoffed. "No, Zaalbar, you wouldn't at all. But—"
"But —" Carth interrupted, with another glance at Revan. "It's been longer for you than it has for us. Don't worry, Z, we—"
"Besides, you're dragging the Wookiees to the stars, right? Sounds like you've got your hands full."
Zaalbar shook his head. "You have always been too understanding. I am glad you have found one another again, after all this time."
"Could we come by Kashyyyk?" Revan asked. "Considering it's you and us now, I'd like to see you again."
"You will always be welcome," he said. "There is one thing you might do for me."
"Of course."
"Even though I was exiled from Kashyyyk, I would not have seen the galaxy for what it was without you. I am old, and many of ours that travel do so with no intention of returning, and I fear those of us here may lose sight of why we began to look beyond ourselves. If you were willing, I would ask that you take Khemmaa under your care — give her the experience she needs to keep us looking outward, and not inward."
Revan raised an eyebrow, glanced at the young Wookiee — who was currently looking between her father's hologram and Revan — and translated for Carth.
"And you're, uh, sure you trust me with this?" Revan asked.
"Of course I do."
"That's a mistake," she muttered. Carth elbowed her. "What?"
"Whatever you once were," Zaalbar said. "I know you. I would have followed you into the unknown three hundred years ago, had you asked me. That has not wavered."
She shook her head, lowering her gaze. "This galaxy honestly doesn't deserve Wookiees."
Zaalbar snorted. "Perhaps not. But if Khemmaa agrees, I would be honored to know one of us was behind you again."
"This war is a lot different than ours was. Bigger. Vastly more dangerous," Carth said. "You're sure?"
"We were on Coruscant when the Empire attacked. I know what happened. If anything, it makes it far more important."
"Alright," Revan said. "I guess we'll work out the details."
"Thank you," Zaalbar said, complete and honest gratitude echoing in his voice. "And know you are welcome here on Kashyyyk anytime."
They said their farewells and the feed cut, and Carth and Revan turned to Khemmaa. The young Wookiee was studying them with a look that was a mixture of apprehensive and excited.
"You're absolutely sure you want to do this?" Revan asked, before Carth could speak. "Carth wasn't exaggerating. Right now, I probably have at least half the Empire after my head — it won't be safe, at all."
She nodded. "I was here when Coruscant was attacked. I know how dangerous it would be. But if you would have me, I would be glad to have your guidance."
"No, believe me, you don't want that," Revan said. Carth nodded. "Hey."
"What? I was agreeing—"
"You don't have to agree so vehemently," she grumbled. "At the moment, it's not all that interesting. The Jedi Council isn't going to let me out of their sights anytime soon, so I'll probably be on Tython until the media's quieted down." She nodded. "So unless you want a crash course in Jedi philosophy — which I don't recommend —"
Khemmaa laughed. "No, no, I understand."
"But, we'll keep in touch. And whenever we actually manage to escape these guys, we'll meet up."
She nodded. "My father talks about you often, and the time where he helped save the galaxy. I can't wait to do the same."
A/N: Title from Emily Dickinson, Poem 1702