Disclaimer: Lucasfilm, Bioware, Disney, et al. and whoever they sell the rights to next own Star Wars and Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic. I write this for fun and not for any monetary gain.
A/N: A few Old Corellian sentences have been rendered as French. Translations are available at the end.
Chapter 17: A Manaan Detour
After breakfast, Zaalbar flew the disguised Ebon Hawk into the Dune Seas, near what used to be the nearest Sand People enclave. Helena Shan, still a bit weak from her cured illness and not as young as she once was, joined him, as if she had secured a ride on it. The remaining crew took the journey on foot. As far as Czerka records would show, they would be entering the desert, never to return. Since Zaalbar had never left the ship except by kidnapping, Czerka was ignorant of his existence and would be convinced that the entire Ebon Hawk crew had perished. On the way, they inevitably started chatting.
"You look like you have a question you are dying to ask, Mission," Bastila observed.
"It's really silly…" the teen deflected.
"Don't worry about it, just ask," Revan encouraged, although his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "We won't bite."
"Okay… it's just something I have been curious about for a long time. I just wonder what your name is, you know. Like, I know Malak was a nom… the war name thing?" Mission stuttered, unsure of the word.
"The nom de guerre?" the Sith Lord helpfully supplied.
"Yes… so, Malak was the nom de guerre adopted by a former Jedi named Alek something," she paused, unsure of what the name was.
"Alek Squinquargesimus, which is actually the name of his birth village," he supplied again. "It was a mistake by the Jedi that recruited him as a child. Once it got into the system, however, it was basically impossible to get it corrected, and he was stuck with that incorrect surname. I suspect he took great pleasure in ditching it."
"Right, that. So, uh… you are Revan, and I am wondering what your actual name is… like… I never heard about your other names, but you must have a surname at least, right?" Mission finally managed to ask.
"I don't see why you are embarrassed. It's a good question," the Sith remarked. "Revan is actually my only name. I don't have a surname. Normally, on my homeworld, people with the same name are distinguished by patronymics or matronymics." Seeing Mission's question, he elaborated, "So for example, Bastila's parents are named Alfrith and Helena. Her patronymic would be 'daughter of Alfrith'—or perhaps Alfrithstochter' in Old Talravin—and her matronymic would be 'daughter of Helena.' It's not a surname, of course, since it's not inherited—if she had a son, his matronymic might be called 'son of Bastila.' In some places, using a matronymic would be considered a sign of illegitimacy, but as far as I can tell, on my homeworld, people used whichever one they preferred. Sometimes, if a person is known for something, they would receive an epithet, which could also be used instead."
"Do you have an epithet?" Mission asked.
"I have been called many things in the past decade, but none I would use to refer to myself," he replied. Indeed, he had been called Revan the Saviour, Revan the Liberator, or many other such names by grateful denizens of the galaxy, but it would be rather vain to refer to himself as such. Similarly, some in the Republic gave him insulting titles, none of which he would use. There were yet others that were appropriate, such as Revan the Warrior, Revan the Sith, or even Revan Purpleblades, but they were too generic to be of much use.
"So what's your patronymic then?" the youth asked. "Or matronymic?"
"I don't know," he answered. "Standard Jedi practice is to detach trainees completely from their family if possible, and so they never record the names of the parents of any child they take in. In the millennia before the Republic recorded everything in computers and made name changes impossible, they even made up new surnames for those that had them." He sighed. "I only have the vaguest memories of my parents, and sometimes I wonder if those were even real. I definitely don't remember their names."
"That's awful!" the Twi'lek teen exclaimed.
"It is why we fight against the Jedi," the Sith concluded.
"Couldn't you create your own surname though?" she wondered.
"I could," he admitted, "but I never liked the idea of claiming something that doesn't belong to me as mine, so I just went with 'Revan' all these years. In fact, Malak thought my mononym sounded cool and copied the idea for his nom de guerre, having resented the mistakenly given surname for years."
"I see. What would happen if you marry someone?" she asked as she gave a significant glance at Bastila.
"That remains to be determined," he answered with finality. He supposed that would be something to discuss with Bastila in private after retaking the Star Forge, since after all, it was a personal decision.
"Maybe you should adopt her surname?" the teen suggested.
"I decline to speculate," he said simply.
"Come on," she urged.
Revan ignored her. To Bastila, he continued, Honestly, does that girl expect us to make a decision on the spot?
Does it even matter what our surnames are? she wondered. I honestly couldn't care less, since everyone just calls me Bastila anyway. I feel like my surname is only ever used by people who claim to be related to me to leech off of my fame…
Exactly! he agreed. This is so pointless. I was fine with indulging her curiosity, but not with her interfering with our private matters.
You know, perhaps I should take the opportunity to be rid of my surname… she proposed. If neither of us have surnames, then no one can claim to be related to the Dark Lord of the Sith or his apprentice based on their surname.
That makes sense for me, but what about your parents? he asked.
I'd use a patronymic, of course. I think 'Bastila, daughter of Alfrith' has a nice ring to it, she explained. I'm not sure I want to be one of the millions of Shans in this galaxy.
Well, we don't have to commit now, he noted.
"You are doing that freaky mental talk thing again, aren't you?" Mission interrupted. "It's unnerving. Can you please speak out loud?"
"Comment faire taire une fille énervante?" Revan spoke out loud—in Old Corellian.
"Je ne sais pas," Bastila replied in the same language. "Peut-être avec un bâillon?" she joked.
"Somehow, that's even worse!" Mission shouted with frustration. "What language is that even?"
"Old Corellian," Bastila replied as if it was a common language.
"What is that?" the teen asked. "I've never heard of it."
"Some forgotten language they used to speak in Corellia before they switched to Basic," the Sith Lord supplied helpfully. "I think the number of people who still speak it can be counted on one hand, so less than 32."
Bastila laughed at the reference, recalling his method of counting—a method that she had immediately copied when he first showed it to her. They counted in binary, with each finger representing a zero or a one. She knew the true potential of this method: with two hands, she could count to 1024, two orders of magnitude more than the "normal" way. She also knew he brought it up to deliberately mess with Mission.
"32? What?" the teen asked in confusion. "Fine, forget it, let's talk about something else."
And she proceeded to ask Revan about combat to defend herself against future attacks by slavers. Those experienced in combat gladly gave their advice, and peace was restored for the remainder of the journey. Although, in the case of HK-47, the advice proved somewhat shocking. Along the way, they also picked up the "hunting" licence that had been issued to the deceased miners, just in case they needed to return at some point without Czerka discovering their continued survival. Later that day, they took off for Manaan.
After a long training session in hyperspace, the Sith couple relaxed in bed.
"We should probably tell your mother about me," Revan suggested suddenly.
"Is that a good idea, Master?" Bastila asked.
"I think it's only fair given we told the rest of the crew, no?" He frowned. "But it's your mother, so I will let you decide." Given their power exchange relationship, he had the final say in all matters (at least they pretended he did), but he also never abused this power—always consulting Bastila on matters that concerned them both whenever possible. For matters that mostly affected her, he let her make the decision, though he offered his advice. They may not always agree, but they always worked it out together.
"I don't know how I feel about letting her know. It's so confusing. I resented her all my life for giving me to the Jedi, especially after they took you away from me," she ranted. "But it's not her fault, was it?"
"No, it was the Jedi's fault for mind-tricking her. She bears no responsibility for that," he affirmed. "But even if it was her fault, was it all bad? We wouldn't have met each other at all, would we, if you hadn't been given to the Jedi? Maybe it's just time to move on."
"I don't think that argument really applies, Master," she protested. "If someone survived a murder attempt and ended up better than before, does the would-be murderer deserve a medal or jail time? If my mother had done it with the intent of getting rid of me, she would still have been a neglectful parent, even if her neglect did allow me to meet you."
"I guess that was a bad argument," he conceded. "The point still stands though, it wasn't her fault, because she was helpless to resist a mind trick."
"You are right, of course, Master," the submissive agreed. "Maybe I should give her a chance and trust her. But what if the Jedi try to mind trick it out of her?"
The Sith Lord frowned. "They already know who I am, so I don't see why they would try."
"But the fact she knows would reveal that you remembered. And what if, stars forbid, Malak somehow got his hands on her? It would only be one mind trick, then he would know you still lived," she reasoned. "And the fact she often spends all day in cantinas drinking… I think it is not worth the risk."
"It would be harder for you to rebuild your relationship with her if you told her later instead of now," Revan surmised.
"I don't doubt it," Bastila agreed, "but I also don't think it's worth the risk."
"Is that your final decision?"
"Yes, Master."
"Then it is decided."
The next day, they arrived on Manaan. Out of an abundance of caution, Revan, Bastila, and HK-47 left their ship to check out the planet first. As they left the hangar, they saw a Sith soldier taunting a Republic soldier, trying to get him to break the laws of Manaan.
When they finally left, the Sith Master commented to his apprentice, "This reminds me of how much of a headache the Selkath were when I was trying to run the fleet. They try to play both sides by being strictly neutral, while making themselves a huge profit. You can imagine the headache when they threatened to reduce kolto exports or levy a hefty fine every time Republic soldiers got into a fight with my soldiers. I see this has now degenerated into both sides trying to bait each other into breaking the law. In some ways I am glad this is Malak's problem."
"That does sound rather annoying," Bastila sympathized. "I suppose it will be our problem again once Malak is dead."
He sighed. "Then let's hope this war ends quickly…" If only we can produce kolto on the Star Forge… he continued in her mind, sensing they were being followed.
Why can't you? she inquired.
Our attempts to produce it with the Star Forge just generated some useless slime, he explained. It's strange. I think something about the Hrakert Rift on Manaan activates it.
Is that where the kolto comes from? she wondered.
It's a strange place… Yes, that's where the kolto comes from, but it's also where a giant firaxan shark lives, he elaborated. Some of the Selkath believe it to be their mythical ancestor. It's the same place where the Star Map is located. There's something… powerful about it. Until we can isolate what exactly down there is activating the kolto and replicate it on the Star Forge, all we can produce is useless slime.
That's just unfortunate, she noted. I suppose being able to produce kolto ourselves is just too good to be true. And nothing else is as good as kolto in this galaxy…
Well, Revan interjected. When I ruled the Sith, we discovered that the world of Thyferra had a similar healing substance—bacta. Unfortunately, that world is so underdeveloped that a single person could heal more people with the Force than all the bacta that world can produce…
That's indeed unfortunate, Bastila noted. Does it have the same activation problem as kolto?
I… don't know, he admitted. I know my scientists haven't really made much progress on synthesizing bacta themselves the last time I checked… For kolto, they've managed to duplicate the exact molecular structure and it still doesn't work…
So as far as we know, nothing stops you from producing bacta with the Star Forge?
It hadn't occurred to me to try it… he confessed. Once the scientists have figured out enough about the substance, we should be able to replicate the molecular structure with the Star Forge… Let's hope the same molecular structure will have the same functionality…
May the Force be with us, his apprentice stated.
Indeed. I guess that will be our top priority once we get the Star Forge back, Revan concluded. But first, I think you should stay away from me. The Genoharadan did say they wanted to meet me alone. Get your mother down here and find a place for her to stay while I go look for this Hulas.
Yes, Master, she answered affirmatively and subconsciously rubbed her collar, eager to obey.
Revan found the Rodian matching the picture he was given in the East Central courtyard in Ahto City. While approaching, the Rodian started talking, "A human? There are Selkath everywhere, but you choose to speak with me. Am I so different? Do you think I have answers that others do not?"
"Who are you?" the secret Sith Lord asked.
"A name? There is power in names, yet in the end a name alone means less than nothing," the Rodian replied cryptically. "I am Hulas, a traveler from the world of Duro. And what is your name, human?"
Instead of answering, Revan decided to just get to the point. "Senni Vek gave me a message to come and see you."
In response, Hulas quickly explained what the Genoharadan was, demanding the Sith that he keep his knowledge a secret. He quickly agreed.
"So, what does this have to do with me?" Revan asked.
"By killing Calo Nord, you have shown you have great potential. The Genoharadan could use someone like you, if you are willing. And your work for us could be of great aid to the Republic," Hulas explained.
"What makes you think I have anything to do with Calo Nord's demise?" the Sith asked pointedly.
"We were looking to recruit Calo Nord before his unfortunate demise on Taris. We knew he was working with Davik, and somehow Davik's ship escaped the destruction on Taris. And instead of Davik and Calo, you were reported to be on the ship. It doesn't take a genius to figure out who was responsible for their deaths. You would make a better candidate than him, having bested him."
"So how do I join?"
"As you can imagine, joining the Genoharadan is not a simple process. To begin, we will need proof of your loyalty and your competence. When you feel you are ready, I will give you a task: a target who must be eliminated," Hulas explained.
"I think I am ready," Revan replied.
The Rodian soon asked him to kill either Zuulan Sentar or Lorgal to prove his worth, and the Sith agreed. He figured that Lorgal would be a much more convenient target, given he was imprisoned in the Republic embassy on Manaan. On the other hand, Zuulan Sentar was on Dantooine, and he had no desire to revisit a Jedi stronghold, even though they promised it would be a "safeport." And so he went straight into the embassy, finding himself in front of Roland Wann, the official representative of the Republic embassy.
Needing an excuse to access the internals, Revan quickly told the ambassador that he was on a mission for the Jedi Council, giving him a quick look at his lightsaber to confirm his identity.
"Uh... of course, of course. I will do whatever I can. But I am only a simple diplomatic representative of the Republic. I doubt I can be of any use to the Jedi Council," Roland tried to stall, as if he was worried about something.
Deciding that he needed to give more information, the fake Jedi elaborated, "I seek a Star Map, the remnant of an ancient and forgotten race."
"An ancient and forgotten race... and you think it may be here on Manaan? Hm..." the ambassador trailed off.
"You know something?" Revan pushed on.
"Perhaps," he answered mysteriously. "But if you want to get information about that, you'll have to do something for me first."
"Fine, what do you want?"
"We have a Sith prisoner that we managed to capture a few days ago while trying to infiltrate our embassy. We haven't managed to break the prisoner yet, but it would be appreciated if you could use your Jedi powers to break him for us."
"Sure, I don't mind trying," the secret Sith agreed. Roland handed him a key to the secret part of the Republic embassy. Entering, he quickly found a Rodian in an energy field, most certainly not the prisoner he was supposed to interrogate.
Before he could try to identify the Rodian, the creature started talking and identified himself, "Yes, human? Have you come to sneer and jeer like the others? Come to see Lorgal the Great Liberator caged like an animal?"
"Liberator? You mean a terrorist?" Revan couldn't help but retort, having seen on the holonet the senseless murders Lorgal committed.
"Kill a million people with a mighty star cruiser and you are a war hero. Kill a hundred with a thermal detonator and you are a terrorist!" the terrorist tried to defend himself.
"Killing a million people who chose to fight a war differs greatly from killing a hundred innocents," the Sith observed. "Yet I sense I am just wasting my breath. You will pay for your crimes, Lorgal."
"There are many who want me dead, including the guards in this room. But the Republic doesn't kill prisoners without a trial. That is why I am protected. This energy cage keeps me safe from blaster and blade. The Republic will keep me alive for transfer to Coruscant, and then all the galaxy will witness my trial!" Lorgal proudly proclaimed.
Ah, yes, that Republic fondness of procedure to make them look fair and just. Even if it will just be a show-trial. The Republic's justice system was basically a joke, even if it had all the "key ingredients" of a fair and just system. If one of the élite committed a crime against a commoner, it was simply a matter of bribing the prosecutor to not pursue the case, and the perpetrator was free to go by the "due process" of the law. If they wanted someone executed, they simply had to bribe the judge and jury to decide the "facts" in a certain way. The true purpose of a justice system—punishing the guilty and never the innocent—was long lost in the Republic.
The criminal continued smugly, "You cannot touch me in here, human. No conventional weapon can penetrate this cage. Nothing can stop me from spreading my manifesto during my trial!"
"This is pointless," the Sith muttered before turning around. He made a minute gesture with his hand as he did so, causing the energy field that trapped the Rodian to collapse. Since the field prevented solid matter from moving through it, it instantly crushed Lorgal as it imploded. The guards looked around, but none of them paid too much attention to the death of a terrorist who had been caught red-handed and constantly bragged about his crimes, dismissing his demise as a simple failure of the energy field.
Exiting the room and completely ignoring the prisoner he was supposed to interrogate, he was confronted by Roland Wann. "Did you manage to get the prisoner to confess?"
Not wanting to be stuck on Manaan, Revan quickly answered, "No, I sensed a disturbance in the Force. I must investigate it." It wasn't technically a lie because Lorgal's death had caused a disturbance in the Force, however minuscule and imperceptible it had been.
"Uhh… that is unfortunate, but it sounds important. Good luck, Master Jedi."
I can't believe how many people fall for that Jedi mysticism, the Sith thought to himself. He quickly found himself back in front of Hulas and told him that Lorgal was dead.
Hulas gave a poisoned vibroblade as a reward and elaborated, "This assignment was only the beginning, Erich Bond. A small test that I am pleased you have passed. But for full membership in our guild, you must eliminate these three targets. The first is a Gamorrean named Vorn Daasraad. The second is a shapeshifter called Rulan Prolik. The third is a Selkath known as Ithorak Guldar." He further explained each target and gave their last known location: Vorn on Tatooine in the Dune Seas, Rulan in the Shadowlands on Kashyyyk, and Ithorak on Manaan, accessible via an appointment through Vek at the Manaan swoop track.
"Erich Bond" quickly agreed to deal with the three targets. He asked for more information, and with some reluctance Hulas gave an overview of the structure of the Genoharadan, including the use of four Overseers to prevent one person from seizing control over the entire guild. "So, how are these Overseers chosen?" he decided to ask.
"As you can imagine, the method for choosing and replacing an Overseer is complicated. The anonymity of a candidate must be protected at all costs, or the entire system will break down. If one Overseer were ever able to somehow eliminate the other three at the same time, he could seize all the power for himself and the guild as we know it would change forever." Revan noticed something odd about the way the Rodian said this, but he couldn't quite place it. "More than this I cannot tell you, for the sake of the guild. Besides, many of the details are hidden from me, as well. They are known only to the Overseers themselves."
"Okay, I suppose I better get on with dealing with your targets," Revan finished. Deciding that it would be wise to get to Kashyyyk and back before Malak could identify their new ship, he decided to go to Kashyyyk for the Star Map and eliminate Rulan in the process as well. And then I just have to identify and kill the four Overseers to cripple this mysterious threat forever… As if it's that easy. But getting even a bit of knowledge would help in hunting them down eventually.
A few minutes later, he met up with Bastila and HK-47 near the hotel. "Did you find a place for your mother?" he asked. Helena was nowhere to be seen, so he suspected the answer was "yes."
"Yes, I booked her into the hotel and gave her enough money to last a year here. They weren't doing so well on business and were rather desperate for customers, so we got a nice discount." The money from the slavers had proved rather handy in this case, and it hadn't cost more than 10 000 credits out of the 200 000 they managed to scavenge.
"Very nice. Now we better go back to the ship and make for Kashyyyk."
On the way, the Sith Lord mentally explained to his apprentice the situation with the Genoharadan.
Why is it so important to infiltrate the Genoharadan now and risk delaying getting to the Star Forge? It's not a small detour because we have to revisit Tatooine and Manaan after Kashyyyk just for the three missions they gave you, Bastila whined. Given the nature of the Genoharadan, she did not feel comfortable discussing it verbally where a secret agent might hear.
I can feel the Force telling me that performing the three assassinations will bring us much closer to our goal of eradicating them, though I can only speculate as to why, he replied. Obviously, they wouldn't work with us if we showed up as the leaders of the Sith. This honestly feels like our only chance to bring them down. If we don't do this, I fear the fate of the Genoharadan would slip through our grasp, remaining forever a thorn in our side.
The Sith doesn't have an intelligence agency to take care of this? she asked incredulously.
The Genoharadan existed for a long time… And it's not just what this Hulas guy said. I found rumours of their existence from the excavations on Korriban, dating back millennia, he revealed. For a secret order to remain hidden for so long is troubling. I don't think it would be easy to get an agent to infiltrate it quickly at all. It would take years if not decades, and I feel like that's too much risk. A hit on a competent government minister can set our efforts back massively.
I see, which is why you decide to take the shortcut of being the agent yourself. I really hope this works out, because if this is a wild bantha chase we would have lost weeks, risking exposure to Malak this whole time, Master, Bastila complained.
I know, but the risk is worth it for the rewards, I think. I trust my feelings on this matter.
I trust your instincts, Master, the submissive agreed. They haven't steered you wrong often, have they?
As they finished their mental conversation, they found themselves at the loading ramp of their ship. It was not long before they found themselves in hyperspace, on the way to Kashyyyk.
A/N: Bastila's father's name is derived from Germanic roots *aþal- (noble) and *friþ (peace, protection). How fitting for a good father from Talravin, whose language is represented by a Germanic language in this story…
The naming scheme used on Revan's homeworld is basically identical to the one used in The Lord of the Rings. Bastila, daughter of Alfrith is basically the same as Aragorn, son of Arathorn. This was historically common in many parts of the world. As for epithets, it was also traditional in many ancient cultures, think Æthelred the Unready, Erik the Red, Sweyn Forkbeard, or Ragnarr Loðbrók (hilariously meaning "shaggy breeches"). These are not heritable surnames, but rather some description of the person, though it might not be obvious in the latter two examples.
Translations:
Comment faire taire une fille énervante? → How to make an annoying girl shut up?
Je ne sais pas. Peut-être avec un bâillon? → I don't know. Maybe with a gag?
And of course, Revan counts in binary (because why not?) and so he could represent 32 distinct numbers with one hand and 1024 with two.