Chapter 40
I'm Here
"I begged him not to go, Bastila. Begged him to just let me go peacefully, and that all I wanted was to be with him in my final moments…"
"This pearl? It's got wondrous medicinal properties since it's packed with chemical compounds."
The words of her mother and Trask gnawed at Bastila, preventing her from even hearing the whistling engine of her land speeder as the group headed straight for the supposed location of the hostile Tusken camp.
She always felt that her mother was nothing more than a self-interested witch since she was first given up to the Order as a young girl, which led to her initial belief that her mother simply ordered her father to seek the krayt dragon pearl out of a lust for riches. But deep down, she knew that her father was not a fool – he would not have faced the danger posed by a beast of such magnitude unless it was absolutely necessary. One final chance to cure her mother's condition would've been reason enough for him to go.
To think that the words of a traitor to the Republic held more weight in convincing her of the reasons for her father's disappearance than those of her own mother…. Fate was very cruel, indeed.
"Statement: My scanners are picking up signs of lifeforms in the distance."
HK's words jolted Bastila from her thoughts, since she was determined to not let the Tuskens get the better of her a second time. The group were traveling slower than the first time, allowing HK to make use of his short-range scanners more effectively prior to engagement.
"Get those blasters ready, boys and girls," Canderous said as he pulled out his heavy blaster pistol and peered over to Bastila, while Elena behind him readied her lightsaber. "As for you, try to stay awake this time. We don't want to lose another of these bikes."
Bastila tensed, still feeling lingering shame that she was rendered unconscious in the earlier incident. The thought of having to share a bike with HK or Trask was not something she or Elena would accept gladly.
Moments later, the expected came to pass, and the familiar sound of a Tusken roar echoed across the dunes. Around twenty warriors popped up from underneath camouflage cloths in a scattered formation, firing upon them as they came over a hill, the exact same tactic used in their previous encounter.
However, this time, Bastila and her companions were ready for them, having devised a strategy just for this purpose.
"Veer left!" Jena shouted, seated behind Bastila, firing her blaster pistol which immediately found its mark, striking a Tusken squarely in the heart.
HK-47 followed suit, tailing Bastila's speeder as he shot a wrist-rocket into the middle of the Tusken group, knocking over those who were fortunate enough to avoid getting caught in the direct point of impact. Canderous and Elena, along with Trask on a separate speeder, took a hard right, the Mandalorian and mercenary's blaster fire creating a short-lived killing field of enveloping fire against the Tusken. Within the first few seconds of contact, seven Tuskens lay dead or incapacitated before the speeder bikes were too far away to effectively engage in ranged combat.
With no way of capitalizing on the element of surprise which simply did not exist, the Tuskens hurriedly scurried to the reverse slope as the group made a u-turn, taking cover behind the ridge in prone position as they continued to lay fire.
"Dismount! We can't take the bikes up there while they're shooting at us!" Canderous barked. He was right, as they had no way of reliably taking out their enemies with ranged weapons, while having to subject themselves to unrelenting blaster fire.
Blaster bolts whizzing past her head, Bastila jolted from her speeder bike, calling out. "Elena! We need to take the lead!"
The older Jedi quickly joined her, their blue and yellow lightsabers at the head of the charge from the flanks as the others formed up. Canderous and HK, their armor and energy shields enough to parry a limited number of blaster bolts, marched up front with their heavy blaster rifles, while the lightly armored Jena and Trask followed closely after Bastila and Elena while acting as fire support.
Running up the hill and trying to deflect blaster shots whilst simultaneously being mindful to not lose one's footing in the shifting sand was a difficult challenge, the blazing suns and the streams of sweat streaking past her brow and into her eyes not making it any easier on Bastila's nerves. Compared to the ease with which they killed seven in the initial salvo, hardly any shots from their companions were finding their mark now as the Tuskens could easily duck for cover.
After a short while, the leader of the Tusken band yelled out to the others, frustrated by the lack of progress. While the center line kept up a general spray of forward fire, the Tusken on the flanks changed their trajectory, aiming for Bastila and Elena in a crossfire. Bastila's proficiency with her double-bladed lightsaber gave her the ability to cover the increased fire, but the same could not be said for Elena who was grazed along the backside of her right shoulder.
"Fuck! Get back up, damn it!" yelled Trask, roughly grabbing Elena by the back of her robe after she fell to the ground in pain. Self-interested to the end, he made no attempt to protect her whatsoever, going so far as to position himself behind her body.
Quick-thinking, Jena darted to the opposite flank in an attempt to draw fire away from the injured Elena. "Canderous, on me!" She hastened, her fast jog turning into a full sprint as she ran diagonally up the hill, dodging blaster shots all the way.
Still, the battle was far from a favorable one. Canderous and HK continue to take as much pummeling as their thick protection allowed them to, with the Mandalorian no doubt suffering multiple deep bruises from the impact underneath his armor despite appearing unscathed, slowing down considerably. Elena willed herself up with gritted teeth, fighting back the pain as she walked forward slowly, parrying with her lightsaber in her good left hand.
With the tide seemingly against them, Bastila had had enough. Summoning up the same strength with which she defeated Calo Nord two nights ago, she clipped her lightsaber to her belt, instead opting to use her adept abilities in Force Absorb. She outstretched both of her hands forward, intercepting one blaster shot after another as she made her way to the center of the attack. The Tusken, fearful of this new development, soon concentrated all of their fire on her, ignoring even Jena who now threatened their left flank.
They continued to shoot in vain, fear getting the best of them as the realized that the great spheres of energy which Bastila now held in her hands were only growing in size and power. Her eyes, normally so serene and full of calm, now glared daggers at the ones standing in the way between her and saving her father. At last, she let loose upon the Tusken, the two balls of brimming Force energy exploding against the ridge, sending thick mounds of sand flying into the air along with the warriors hiding behind them.
"Now!" Bastila yelled, running headlong towards the disoriented Tusken with her lightsaber brimming once again. The entire party braced for melee combat, HK-47 bringing out his fearsome protractible cleaver from his wrist compartment.
Still reeling from the shock of Bastila's unexpected attack, the Tusken were no match. The party leader's gaffi stick was sliced cleanly in half as he attempted to block Bastila's vicious downward slash, his face and chest bearing a deep and long vertical burn mark as he fell dead. Canderous and HK-47 overwhelmed their opponents with brute strength, the Mandalorian's bayonet impaling one Tusken deep enough that another fighter right behind him was also taken out in one surge forward. Jena more than held her own during this time, expertly dealing with two Tuskens in quick succession with her twin vibroblade shortswords, showing that she had lost none of her touch from the days of the Mandalorian Wars.
In a matter of seconds, the Tusken were all lying motionless on the dunes, as Bastila let out a heavy sigh before deactivating her lightsaber.
"H-how in the hell did you do that?" Jena asked as she came over, pure disbelief written on her face. "I've encountered many Jedi in battle in my time, but none of them ever did what you did."
"Tutaminis," Elena explained, having finally made it up the hill along with Trask while holding her left hand over her shoulder wound to heal herself with the Force. "Or Force Absorption, if you want to call it that. But how did you do it? I never recall teaching you that technique in such depth."
"Revan," she replied. "It was one of the powers he taught me before the Mandalorian Wars, although I never managed to get the best of it until now."
"Still, you acted with such…anger!" Elena remarked. "Bastila, I know that you must feel frustrated with your father still missing, but—"
"I did what was necessary," she cut her former master off abruptly with a stern tone. Bastila was now a changed woman, as Elena could undoubtedly tell, and it wasn't for the better.
Did what was necessary…just like he did…
"What's done is done," Canderous grunted. "We have to get a move on, and—" He was interrupted by the gargled coughing of a Tusken who still drew breath, several feet away from where Bastila stood. The party walked over to the dying warrior whose blood fell in a steady stream from his torso, wetting the sand beneath him.
Once they stood looming over him, Elena spoke. "HK, tell him that we did not want this fight. Tell him that we seek a peaceful resolution between Chieftain A'Shado's tribe and his."
HK-47 had a brief pause before relaying the translation, as if he was flabbergasted at the suggestion that a fight was unwanted to begin with. A series of gargled growls from the Tusken followed, after which he responded. "Translation: Worthless words from deceitful outsiders. Fitting, that they should come from those who were sent by the traitorous usurper A'Shado."
"Usurper? What the hell does that mean?" Jena asked, curious that her family's protector would be considered as such.
"Translation: Two dark warriors came…murdered the rightful chieftain. Our leader, A'Shagro, was the designated heir to the chieftainship, decreed by the chieftain in private to his two sons. A'Shado is a traitor. Outsiders must be shown no mercy, for they give none."
"Well, you're wrong about that," Elena said, stepping forward, to the shock of the others. "Let me help you."
"What do you think you're doing? To hell with him and let's go to their camp!" Trask exclaimed, pointing his blaster at the Tusken's forehead.
"I have to do this. We have to at least try to avoid the bloodshed that'll follow," she replied.
"Elena, no. No, it's not possible," Bastila said. "There's no point in trying to—!"
One last defiant roar came from the Tusken as he grabbed the broken gaffi stick which lay at his side. Without the slightest hint of a second thought, he rammed the point of the weapon into his own heart, his head tilting upon its side as his hand collapsed upon the sand.
The Jedi Knight stood motionless as she peered down at the corpse, shocked at the outcome which she thought was possible to avoid. To imagine that she could save the life of the former Dark Lord of the Sith, but not the life of one defeated Tusken warrior…
"Elena, come," said Jena, placing a hand on her shoulder. Turning to face her, Elena could see the sympathy in the woman's eyes. "You can't save everyone. Some people…just choose not to be."
-o-
Admiral Karath's eyelids twitched as he heard the sound of a blaster pistol shot behind him, followed by the thud of a lifeless corpse upon the cold metallic floor of the Leviathan's bridge. The veteran fleet commander's attention did not veer away from the wide expanse of space ahead of him, his mind focused on his strategic goals and not the debris of former Republic ships blown to bits by his fleet.
The interrogator continued to bark at the Republic soldiers who remained alive on their knees, but Karath knew they would not listen. They were made of stronger stock…unlike others he could name.
His attention was broken by a beeping incoming communication alert, to which he looked down at the central console. His eyes dimmed once he realized just who it was. "Yes, Vice Admiral," he said, making minimal effort to hide his disdain for the man. "What is it?"
"Admiral," Krieg said, his stark blue eyes giving off a cat-like glare at his superior. "Why have you not moved?"
"'Not moved'? I believe you are mistaken, Vice Admiral," Karath argued. "Did you not receive reports of the destruction of the Republic fleet that was blocking our path? See for yourself." He turned sideways briefly so that Krieg could get a view of the soldiers who were now being outright executed one by one, the interrogator now having realized the folly of trying to get anything out of them.
"Pathetic," the Vice Admiral barked. "I handed this sector over to you on a silver platter after taking Onderon. You had one simple job: maintain our main fleet's forward momentum, capture Zeltros and threaten Commenor, thereby forcing the Republic to divert more of their forces to reinforce it, allowing me to strike through from Antar and take them by surprise. Why have you failed to do so? Why are you barely halfway between Zeltros and Commenor?"
Karath scoffed. "Even if I did explain, would you understand? You are too hot-headed, Vice Admiral. Let me guess; significant losses in a frontal assault yet again?"
Krieg shot him a menacing glare, speaking through almost gritted teeth. "Your inaction has cost my fleet greatly. Instead of dividing their forces in two, the Republic focused their firepower on my fleet, severely dwindling my numbers. Should Corellia fall back into Republic hands, this drawback will be on your hands, Admiral. The bulk of the fleet is under your command, and yet…," he fumed, incensed by his superior officer's failure, "you failed to subjugate Zeltros on time! Zeltros, a planet filled with nothing more than…drunkards and prostitutes!" He managed to calm himself, finding a bemusing cause to belittle the man. "Hmph. Not surprising, to be honest. No wonder Corellia itself fell easily, after the stubborn resistance beyond its perimeters crumbled – it produces nothing but inept weaklings, I see."
The veteran commander's eyes lit up with fury at the remark, but he soon brought things under control with a sly remark of his own. "Very well, Krieg. You've proved your effectiveness once again. But given the…changed conditions at hand, there are several options available to us. In truth, to me. I could order a general assault to break through Commenor, storm Cato Neimoidia and come directly to relieve you; I could head straight for Manaan to seal our victory, leaving you to fend for yourself. Or…," he grinned, "I could head up towards the Kuat Sector and beyond. I know that there's a certain planet that's supposedly lovely at this time of year, though I may change that."
The Vice Admiral's gaze turned to ice the moment he heard those words. "You wouldn't dare…"
"And what if I do? What can you do, when you've fought yourself into a hole, hmm?" He smiled heartily, making no attempt to hide his glee. "Sit tight, Vice Admiral. You're in for a fight. I suggest that you make defensive preparations and try to hold onto your little victory if you can. Dismissed."
His moment of triumph over, Karath's smile soon faded after Krieg's hologram dissipated, followed by a heartfelt sigh at the fall of his homeworld.
Is this how you felt, Carth? Should I consider it a blessing or a curse that I never got to witness my homeworld one last time before it fell? I hope you'll be able to answer me this one day.
As ever, duty called. He turned to join his subordinate officers in co-ordinating their next moves, torn between securing their flank by taking Commenor, or opting to storm Manaan and take it by force.
-o-
A thousand-yard stare.
She'd seen it countless times among Republic soldiers who walk right past her, their eyes seemingly empty of all emotion, even of despair.
Faces of men who had lost all their cherished friend in one action; who had simply lost faith in themselves to such an extent that even her Battle Meditation was rendered meaningless and unable to reach them.
Except now, that expression was written on Bastila's face. None of her companions were badly hurt, with only a few scratches and bruises for those without armor. It was rather what she was forced to do, and especially the remorseless conviction with which the once-honorable Trask Ulgo committed his acts. He was, as expected, handsomely rewarded for his exploits, claiming the prize of the krayt dragon pearl held in the enemy camp as per A'Shado's words.
She couldn't bring herself to kill any of the women, children or old – that task was strictly designated to Trask and HK with heavy hearts. Rather, she spent her time hurriedly scouring the camp in a desperate bid to locate her father. True to the word of the warrior who killed himself in the desert, the tribe held a visceral hatred for outsiders; a reeking pile of corpses burned in a sacrificial bonfire was all that could be found of anything resembling a human.
What was done was done, and there was no going back. The hostile chieftain's gaffi stick lay secure in her speeder bike's cargo compartment as they rolled up to A'Shado's camp once again, dusk settling in now that both of Tatooine's twin suns had set over the horizon. Gaffi stick in hand, Bastila led the group to the settlement's doors. No words were required as one guard quickly entered the camp to alert his chieftain, while the other went through the prior protocol, confiscating their weapons and stashing them together in the rucksack.
Sensing the distress of her former Padawan, Elena laid a soothing hand on her back as they walked back to the chieftain's hall. But as they passed the section of the camp in which Bastila recalled hearing the sound of a stranger's cough, her heart sank further, for she heard nothing.
The scorching heat of the audience chamber engulfed them once again. As expected, Chieftain A'Shado sat regally on his carved-bone throne, eyes fixed upon the gaffi stick which lay in Bastila's hands.
"Chieftain A'Shado," Jena opened with the usual formalities, bowing before gesturing to the prized weapon. "Your bounty, as promised."
Bastila tried her best to hide her contempt for the haughty chieftain as he made a hand motion to a guard who proceeded to take the gaffi stick from her. Liar or truth-teller, usurper or not, he would be brought to reveal her father's whereabouts one way or another.
"Translation: You have indeed upheld your end of the bargain. This prize would not have been extracted if even a single enemy warrior remained alive to defend it," HK relayed while the chieftain marveled at the weapon. "Were you successful in locating your father?"
Bastila merely shook her head.
"Translation: A shame. Still, my guards shall now escort you to the prisoners' quarters where you may inspect our captives for yourself, as promised. Afterward, a grand feast will be held to celebrate this momentous victory, which you shall attend. Last of all, you may behold the 'Star Map' as you call it, in the heart of this camp which lies behind this chamber."
Elena felt her heart skip a beat when she heard those words which confirmed the Force vision she and Bastila shared with Revan upon setting foot on Tatooine. The Map was not won then without savage slaughter on the part of her fiancé, breaking her heart once she saw it unfold in her mind.
"Thank you, chieftain," Jena bowed, quickly moving things along as she knew that Bastila's anxiety was at its peak. Two Tusken guards led them at a quick pace to the prisoner hold, a fair walk away through the twisting corridors. The damp and somewhat foul smell prevalent throughout the tunnel encampment seemed to worsen as they came through a bend and into a wide enclosed area. Prisoners of several species were being put to work under supervision, crafting and sharpening gaffi sticks, maintaining blaster weapons and sewing together hides for their enslavers.
One of the guards let out a howl and tapped his gaffi stick hard into the ground three times, snapping the prisoners into attention as they immediately ceased their activities and turned to face him, fearful of potential punishment. He looked over his shoulder and jerked his head, signalling for Bastila to go on and inspect them.
Bastila winced as she came close to each of them, their bodies dirty and reeking of a salty odor, evidently having not washed properly in days. She held sympathies for all, but forced herself to not push the chieftain's mercy, opting to save only her father if she could.
Peering in closely at one human male as the darkness of the room made it difficult to make out one's features, Bastila was suddenly tugged in by a desperate human female. "Please, you have to help me! You have to get me out of here!"
"I…," she stammered, growing nervous as the Tusken guard predictably came stomping over. She sighed, resigning herself to inaction. "I can't…" The woman was knocked back, crying as she hit the floor.
Yes, you can.
Just like he did.
You just can't bring yourself to do it, can you?
Hypocrite.
Bastila shook her head, warding off the negative thoughts shrouding her mind. She continued onward, but lost hope with each passing step. The realization dawned that her father was not here; had he been, he would have cried out to her by now, his most precious treasure, as he called her.
Instead, she opted to speak to one of the men. "Sir, if you could please help me, I am looking for my father. Have you met a man by the name of…," she struggled to even speak his name, "by the name of Ander Shan?"
"Ander?" the man of dark-brown features hoarsely replied, lips cracked from dehydration. "Never heard of him. Names don't matter out here. Not anymore."
"Please, he was a treasure hunter, captured roughly three weeks ago. Surely his gear would have been distinctive in some way. Can you recall anything at all?"
"Treasure hunters? Hah. Lots of them here. Be more specific? A batch came struggling in around that time, though. Not sure what's happened to them. Haven't seen them in awhile."
Haven't seen them in awhile?
These men and women are still relatively capable of work.
What was that weak coughing I heard at midday? Another group? Too weak to work?
But that means…!
The Tusken guard had had enough, angrily shoving Bastila away from the man and marshaling the group out of the chamber. Great drums began to beat and reverb throughout the settlement as they continued on, no doubt as a celebration of their victory against the hated rival tribe.
But as Bastila forced herself to follow after the guard, her resolve was renewed, for there was hope after all.
A loud chorus of roars erupted as they emerged into the main chamber of the camp, where the Tusken shared a large communal area for eating and other social activities. Flame torches were lit all around as the drums grew heavier and heavier, before coming to a sharp halt once they stood in the center of the floor.
The rest of the celebration ceremony was a blur to Bastila, as her mind was elsewhere, plotting her next moves. She mindless chewed away at the rough cooked game meat which Elena and Trask did not take a liking to but forced down, not wanting to insult or otherwise upset the Tusken. Canderous and Jena seemed to not mind, having put up with worse on several hellholes during the Mandalorian Wars.
At last, the moment came. When the celebrations died down and the meal concluded, the guards escorted them once again back to the chieftain's hall. As promised, he parted two wide curtains and led them into a dark chamber, a familiar stone artifact stationed in the middle. With the group gathered around and eagerly waiting to behold the Star Map for themselves, the chieftain tapped a section the pedestal with his hand. It sparked to life, the three arches expanding outwards as the central sphere levitating briefly before emitting a blinding flash of light. Countless bright dots jutted out of it, spreading out until each stood perfectly in place, representing the stars of the galaxy.
"The Star Map…," Jena exhaled after about a minute passed, mouth agape. "I've never seen anything like it."
"Or felt anything like it before, for that matter," Elena added. "These things are shrouded in the dark side, if what Revan told me about his encounter on Dantooine is correct. Its creators were savagely cruel."
Canderous merely shrugged while his datapad captured the new data set from the Star Map. "I don't feel anything. Must be an exclusive Jedi thing. Well, we've got what we need. Star Map data secure, merc boy's got his pearl. Just no happy ending for the Jedi princess, huh?"
"Speaking of princess," Trask quipped, looking around with his one good eye, "where is she?"
Unknown to all, Bastila slipped out of the chamber unannounced, having been lent Mission's stealth field generator belt once it was repaired overnight by T3. A novice at using the item, she had to carefully sneak while out of earshot, and stay perfectly still on a few occasions to wait for a guard to pass by.
She made her way through the harrowing tunnel corridors until at last she arrived to the section which piqued her interest upon her first entry. Two overlapping strips of animal hide covered up a segregated passageway, the corners of each hide piece fastened to the ground and roof by beaten-in metallic pegs. Slightly pulling back one of the hides, Bastila winced as a horrible stench of blood and waste hit her nostrils. Still, she was determined to push on, for there was no other alternative.
Carefully undoing one of the ground pegs and making sure to adequately pull the hide so that it didn't violently jerk free in a noisy clutter, Bastila stepped over the other hide strip and entered the unexplored section of the camp. The area was pitch black and near impossible to see in, forcing her to backtrack and snatch a lit torch off the wall holder in the adjacent corridor.
Only, she wished she hadn't.
The very first thing that came to her sight was the corpse of a bearded, disheveled human male, his body sporting countless cuts and bruises. His odor was beyond unbearable, and maggots had already formed in the deep and empty portions of his rotted skin. Yet he was one of so many.
What little hope she once held was now completely gone as she trudged through and inspected the bodies one by one, delicately stepping in between the puddles of filth.
Calm yourself, Bastila. Maybe he isn't here. There must be several undisclosed prisoner holds in this encampment. Your father bears a strong will, and he couldn't possibly be—
Here…
There he lay, virtually all alone, ditched with his back up against the wall. Even though his brown hair was a long and dirtied mess, and a heavy beard had formed during his captivity, she still recognized him. Those steel grey eyes which she inherited lay open, a peaceful, almost content look about his face as he gazed right into her soul. The torch trembled and fell out of her hand, its flame lighting up the silhouette of a grief-stricken daughter rushing over to the body of her father.
It had been almost exactly 22 years since she was given up to the Order. She still remembered the tears welling up in her father's eyes that day, while her mother merely watched on with a heart of stone. It broke her heart seeing her father cry the way he did, but it was incomparable to the pain she now felt; he would neither cry nor laugh ever again.
"Father," she wept, tears pouring down her face as she shook him in vain and held him close to her, resting her chin against the top of his head, "father, it's me. It's your Bastila!"
Silence.
"I'm here with you now. You'll be okay. I'm…I'm getting you out of here!"
Silence.
"I…I can heal you. Once you've recovered, we…we can be a family again!"
Silence.
"Papa…," she called to him, just like she did in her childhood. "Papa, please don't leave me…." She looked into his eyes, wishing he would answer her. Wishing that he would start laughing, teasing her for being such a pessimist like her mother.
But he would not. Never again.
She cradled his body in her arms, closing her eyes as she finally let her tears fall freely. Having come to terms with her failure, she leaned in and kissed him on the forehead. It was cold, as expected, but not overly so, and he was in much better condition than the others around him.
He held on…for all this time.
I could have saved him in time…I was such a fool!
Opening her eyes once again, she sought to compose herself and plan her next course of action, determined to retrieve his body. But then, she felt her heart drop when she realized that she could no longer see her and her father's silhouettes.
Instead, a tall, menacing figure loomed behind her, heated and exasperated breaths now becoming audible. She turned her head slowly to see a Tusken warrior standing over her, the stealth device having given out during her grieving. He gave not a single warning before he bellowed out loudly, thrusting the tip of his gaffi stick towards her heart.
Taken by shock, Bastila dropped her father and clung on for dear life against the merciless hand of the Tusken. Loud, boisterous echoes could be heard spreading throughout the camp, further adding to her desperation. Hellbent on killing her, the warrior intensified his efforts, the tip of his weapon now barely inches from hitting its mark.
Bastila's heart pounded uncontrollably as her hands began to give way, before her mind flashed with a vision from her past.
-o-
"Do it," a defeated and kneeling Elena sighed, staring at the pair of gleaming yellow eyes that gazed down upon her, and a crimson lightsaber which hovered in front of her face. "Kill me."
Revan didn't move. His expression was a pained one – to think that Elena, of all people, had now lost all faith in him? "Do you honestly think I will?"
"Power. Control. These things are all that matters to you now, aren't they? I'm dead to you, and you know it. Kill me."
A tear fell from his right eyelid as he peered over at Bastila, who struggled to rise to her feet after being hurled away by a powerful Force Push. Her hands were deathly white as the gripped against her yellow lightsaber, hesitant to rush forward out of fear of forcing Revan's hand.
His mouth gaped slightly ajar, as if he was hurt by her accusation. Unable to bring himself to do as she demanded, he deactivated his lightsaber, letting it fall from his hand. He knelt down and brought her up to her feet, cupping her face in his hands. "You know I can't. You mean everything to me. How can you, of all people, not understand me and what I'm trying to achieve?"
"I understand more than you think," she said, breaking out of his grasp and pushing him away. "You're not the man you once were. You turned on and slaughtered those you once swore to protect. Now, you even try to tempt me with power? I don't want to be your empress – I wanted to be nothing more than your wife.But now I see the truth; the Revan I loved died on Malachor, just as Meetra did."
Revan's expression turned melancholy as he replied. "You're right. The Revan you once knew died on Malachor – Revan the idealistic fool. Revan who thought that the Republic even cared about us and wouldn't leave us to die for a seemingly lost cause."
Elena took a step back. "What?"
"Do you have any idea what I've seen, Elena? How many friends I've had to bury? How many enemies I've had to kill? What I had to do so that we could survive another day?" He looked at her with blank eyes, as if he were staring past her entirely. "And do you know what the Republic did for us? The Jedi High Council, and even the supposedly good-hearted and wise Supreme Chancellor Tol Cressa? Nothing. They left us to die. Despite all our calls for reinforcements, they denied every single one. Told us to negotiate a truce with those Mandalorian savages, when they should've known it was impossible; as long as Coruscant was safe, they didn't care. At the end of the day, the only thing that could save us was our own resolve…and power. Power is the only thing that'll allow me to protect you now."
Silence ensued, and Bastila slowly walked to Elena's side, making no threatening moves towards Revan, for her heart was far too conflicted. The Republic strike team, with the exception of the two of them, were now all dead, and Sith reinforcements were undoubtedly on their way. With no hope of either escape or besting Revan, she resigned herself to her fate, putting her life in his hands.
She deactivated her lightsaber and let it fall, just as he did, before speaking to him. "What becomes of us?"
He sighed deeply, and for a brief moment, the anger and bitterness dissipated in his heart, allowing his eyes to return to their natural brown color as he spoke to them. "I love you two, more than anything in the world. I'd rather die than hurt you. The choice is yours; if you still trust in who I am, then stay by my side. If you can't, then leave – I won't stop you, but I can't protect you from what might happen."
Before the two women could answer, Revan's attention was suddenly turned to the observation deck of his flagship. His eyes widened as he saw Malak's command ship's gundecks all aim in his direction in preparation for a massed volley. Without hesitation, he leapt forward, grabbed them in either arm and spun around, falling to the floor as the transparisteel behind them shattered.
-o-
The only thing that could save us was our own resolve…and power.
The Jedi High Council…left us to die…
It felt like it took her an eternity, but Bastila finally understood after years of misguidance. While so many died trying to protect the Republic, the Jedi Council sat on their hands, endlessly preaching prudence and patience. While she spent many months directly fighting and aiding the cause, seeing soldiers and fellow Jedi dying all around her, the Masters continued to idly stay in their Council chambers, not realizing that their days were numbered. To add insult to injury, the memory of a barely prepared new Padawan Revan being sent to battle the nightmarish dark-side of Juhani still lingered in her.
No. I cannot bear this any longer.
No more.
Her eyes, once wide with fear as she struggled for her life, now narrowed into a fierce glare as she held her hand out, using the Force to incapacitate the Tusken. No longer caring what was forbidden or not, she snatched the gaffi stick from the warrior as he held his hands to his throat, struggling to breathe. Seeing that she was no longer able to waste any more time, she released her hold on him, putting him out of his misery by thrusting his gaffi stick into his own heart, just as he attempted to do to her.
Hearing more footsteps approaching, she took one more look at her father, vowing to return to take him away with her after she had done what was necessary. Two warriors lunged at her as soon as she entered the main corridor, but she was having none of it; she used the Force once more to knock one off his feet, colliding with the other and sending him tumbling. Taking advantage of the moment, she surged forth and dealt a mortal blow to both.
The sounds of her companions' yells could be heard in the distance, soon followed by blaster fire. She rushed to help them, her eyes darting left and right to watch out for any potential surprise attack from behind the various passageways. Her mad dash soon came to a screeching halt when she heard a shriveled screech from a room to her right, causing her to make a quick turn to face the new threat, pointing her gaffi stick right in front of the face of the one who stopped her.
A young child…and his mother…
Bastila staggered back, panting deeply. Despite all the anger that was flowing within her, she couldn't bring herself to murder such helpless beings. She trembled, shocked that she almost took a step too far, before gathering her senses once again. Once she swiftly pointed to the direction of the camp's exit, the mother took the hint, quickly leading her child away by the hand.
But in exchange for saving their lives, Bastila was responded to by another wave of merciless attacks, this time by a trio of warriors who charged at her from the direction she was heading, blaster rifles firing away at her. Shots raced past her head as she was forced to duck for cover, the darkness of the flame-lit cave and close-quarter fighting making it not ideal for her to use her Force Absorb capabilities effectively. With no option but to withdraw, Bastila ran back to where she came from.
Tears began to flow freshly from her eyes once again when she found herself standing with her back pressed up against the wall, next to the entrance of the chamber where her father lay. Unable to press forward to her friends or backtrack to retrieve her lightsaber at the camp entrance, she looked at her father's eyes which still stared directly at her.
Is this…how it ends?
Father…at least I got to see you again. Now we can be together…forever…
She smiled and closed her eyes, her forehead resting against the pole handle of the gaffi stick. The heavy footsteps drew closer and closer, and she braced herself for the inevitable as they bounded by.
Straight past her. Followed soon after by their screams, and flesh being seared and sliced through.
More warriors ran towards the source of commotion, and Bastila summoned up the courage to take a peep through the chamber entrance. Suddenly, she was forced to jerk her head away, as brutal torrents of electricity surged over and through the warriors. Unable to withstand the barrage, they quickly fell dead, skin charred by the sheer heat of the attack.
The cave corridors grew brighter with a blue hue, and a familiar hum filled the air as the tapping of a set of footsteps approached her slowly. Feeling her heart dictate her steps, she moved out of her hiding place to greet her savior. A hooded man in a brown robe stood before her, blue lightsaber in hand as he faced downwards, concealing his face from view. Bastila's eyes grew wide in disbelief as he walked in front of her, pulling back his hood.
"R-Revan?!" she gasped. "H-how did you—!" She stopped when he laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, before reaching into his robe and pulling out her double-bladed lightsaber. He placed it in her hands before he looked into her eyes, speaking with the confident voice she missed so dearly.
"Come. We're not out of this yet."
A/N: I have to say that a lot has changed when writing this chapter compared to my original plan, but it is for the best. I needed to make Bastila experience a deeper feeling of loss and frustration compared to how things went in the game with the krayt dragon lair which I always thought she took in all too well, but also not have her go completely overboard since her sense of humanity is what defines her as a character.
We're almost done with Tatooine, after which I'm planning on taking another break to figure out what my plan for Kashyyyk is. My plan for that planet has changed even more dramatically from the original than Tatooine, and a lot of plot points and characters' actions need to be co-ordinated to make things work.
As always, it's great to hear from long-time readers, and I hope the next update will be soon!