A/N: And now, the thirdlast chapter!
Read, review, and above all, enjoy!
Disclaimer: Argh.
When Tarrah awoke, she was back in her bed, with Juhani, Jolee, a medical droid, and two extremely confused Republic battlefield medics watching over her.
Also, for reasons best known to themself, Ashana was hunkered down at the foot of her bed in the form of a kath hound. Apparently, though her mind trick had worn off, it had completely realigned this particular specimen's mind, because the shapeshifter didn't seem to be in the mood to leave her.
Meanwhile, though Jolee and the medics agreed that she wasn't in any danger, it was at least forty-eight hours before Tarrah was judged healthy enough to be allowed out of bed. For once, though, she couldn't complain about the bed rest: after all, it gave Juhani all the excuses she needed to sit guard over her and sleep next to her.
When the two of them weren't talking, sleeping, or just lost in each other's arms, Tarrah was almost brain-dead with the enormity of everything that had just happened.
They'd done it.
They'd destroyed the Star Forge, killed Darth Malak, crippled what little was left of Sith empire, saved Bastila, and even brought back a friendly shapeshifter, all without losing a single member of the team. They were all due for rewards, commendations, lucrative postwar careers, and a galaxy's worth of fame, beginning with a medal ceremony within the next week. Had Tarrah been anything close to the feisty smuggler she'd been at the start of this adventure, she'd have been revelling in it…
…but now, none of it seemed to move her.
Part of it was exhaustion, of course. And yes, there was a great deal of doubt over what she'd do next now that she was a hero of the Republic. And yes, she had to think about whether she'd remain a Jedi or retire to something a little less dramatic. And yes, there was definitely a lot of concern and anxiety over how the Jedi would react once they figured out that she knew who she was…
…but there was something else nagging at her now, something that she'd seen in the flurry of visions that had overcome her when the Star Forge had fallen. Several somethings, in fact. She couldn't ignore it, couldn't dismiss it, and definitely couldn't downplay it no matter how desperately she wanted to. She needed to tell someone about it, but she couldn't work out who would do the most amount of good with the knowledge, and there was even bigger decision hanging off this vital meeting that desperately needed to be made – for the fate of literally everything might depend on what choice she made next. And the conundrum haunted Tarrah for the rest of the week, refusing to leave her in peace no matter how often she took shelter in Juhani's arms, how many games of fetch she played with Ashana, no matter how many Pazaak tournaments she lost to Mission.
It wasn't until the victory ceremony had been held on the steps of the Temple of the Ancients and Tarrah had received her medal that she finally reached a decision.
Forcing her way through the hordes of revellers with Juhani and Ashana hot on her heels, she knelt down next to Master Vandar and whispered, "We need to talk, ideally somewhere where we won't be disturbed. There's something you need to know, Master Vandar."
The diminutive Jedi Master eyed her with interest, mingled with the just the tiniest hint of suspicion. "With due respect," he said softly, "I was expecting this meeting ever since you arrived at the ceremony: your emotions have been very easy to read."
"Then you'll know how serious I am about this. Meet me-"
Juhani coughed loudly.
Ashana mimicked the sound perfectly.
"Alright, alright. Meet me and Juhani… and Ashana… on the temple summit in an hour's time. And before you ask, no, I don't expect you to be alone. Bring along whatever bodyguards you feel would be necessary, but whoever you invite, make sure they don't hear what I have to say; that's all I can ask."
And with that, Tarrah flitted back into the crowd, a smile pasted on her face as she accepted the handshakes and backslaps of every Republic soldier from one end of the courtyard to the next, her mind empty but for the thought that she didn't deserve any of the praise.
Fifty-nine minutes later, she, Juhani, and Ashana were sitting atop the uppermost tower of the Rakatan Temple, in the very spot where Revan had once ruminated upon the power she'd hoped to gain and where, scant days ago, Bastila had been duelled to a standstill. Frankly, the only reason why Tarrah had been able to sit down in the first place was because Juhani had encouraged her to do so (and because Ashana had taken the form of a sloth and sat down in her lap); under any other circumstances, she'd have been on her feet and pacing for every second of the minute-long waiting period.
One minute later, Vandar tottered out onto the rooftop with Bastila following close behind him – and Tarrah was immediately relieved: quite apart from salving the guilt she'd felt at not involving her in this business, it at least gave her an excuse to share the truth with her as well. However, she could also sense other presences watching this meeting, some from afar, some worrying closer.
"No offence intended," said Tarrah, hesitantly, "but did you ask to accompany Master Vandar to the meeting?"
Bastila couldn't quite hide her blush. "Actually, I've been remanded to Master Vandar's care for the foreseeable future," she admitted. "Just in case my redemption isn't as… honest as the Council hope."
"Something tells me you might be suspecting the wrong person, Master Vandar. Also, is this meeting being watched by a sniper?"
Vandar shook his head. "This meeting is being observed from the uppermost spire by Master Vrook Lamar."
"Oh. Fair enough: he is one of the best duellists in the Order. Perfect man for an emergency assassination job, considering he hates my guts."
"You have something to say, Tarrah Vend; please, do not let it remain unsaid a moment longer."
Tarrah took a deep breath. "Alright then. To begin with, I know all about the alterations to my mind: assuming that Bastila hasn't told you this much already, I know that I was once Darth Revan. Malak told me everything – or at least, what was convenient for him to share with me. In the weeks since then, I've recalled a great deal of Revan's original memories, and briefly the occasional personality trait. So… before we go any further, I need to ask: how much of my personality was your design and how much of it was Revan's original self?"
If Vandar was in any way disturbed or even mildly surprised by this revelation, he showed no sign of it.
He only paused for a moment, before calmly stating, "Your mind was badly damaged in the wake of Darth Malak's assassination attempt. We recognized the danger of your original personality, but we also understood that your mind was the best possibility of uncovering Darth Malak's secret weapon, so the Council decided to preserve just enough of your personality to allow the memories of Darth Revan to return – if not all of it." A smile briefly brightened Vandar's stoic face, and he added, "The identity of Tarrah Vend was based on Revan as she was as a padawan, so it was hoped that you would be… slightly less arrogant than you were following the Mandalorian War."
"Hence the anagram in the name. Thanks for that, by the way."
"You're welcome."
Tarrah sighed. This was the part that she really hadn't been looking forward to. "Unfortunately, my original identity isn't the only thing I've learned. Did you experience anything… unusual when the Star Forge exploded?"
"Yes. All Jedi within this system experienced the disturbance in the Force." Vandar's wizened old eyes once again narrowed in interest. "But I sense you experienced more than them. Perhaps this is not surprising: you were always strong in the Force, and you were the closest to the Star Forge when it was destroyed. What was it that you witnessed?"
"Well… part of it was a memory of Revan's, and part of it was a vision of the future. What it adds up to is that I finally understand why Revan fell to the Dark Side."
Already quiet, a stunned silence descended upon the temple summit.
"You are certain?" said Vandar at last.
"As certain as I can be. Revan didn't… fall as we would understand it, not in the traditional sense. She wasn't tempted by entities of the Dark Side or the study of ancient Sith magics like some suspected, and she wasn't corrupted over the course of the Mandalorian War. Well, at least not to the extent that some believe. You see, Revan had uncovered evidence that the Mandalorians had been influenced to war by an unknown third party, something that was still waiting to strike, and after Malachor V, she decided to investigate."
"Alone? Malak was not involved?"
"As far as I can remember. Anyway, the trail of clues eventually led Revan to a planet on the very border between the Outer Rim territories and Unknown Space, and that was where she learned of who and was was really responsible for the Mandalorian Wars: it was a being that had been born from the first conflicts between Jedi and the Sith a millennium ago, transcended death to become something beyond mortality, and built a Dark Side empire of his own in the furthest reaches of the galaxy. I still don't fully recall everything about it or even where this encounter was, but I know this being's name is Vitiate. Emperor Vitiate.
"Once she'd found a safe route into Vitiate's domain, Revan did her best to avoid being detected while exploring this hidden Sith empire, but she eventually learned that this Emperor was planning for war. He'd been preparing for it for centuries and even influenced the Mandalorians to help pave the way for his invasion. Unfortunately, Revan also realized that at some point during the journey, she'd managed to get Vitiate's attention, and it would only be a matter of time before the Emperor sent his forces to silence her. So, she panicked and fled all the way back to the Outer Rim, reunited with Darth Malak without ever telling him what she'd seen, and… well, she did what she thought-"
Tarrah sighed, realizing at once that she couldn't keep denying who had done this, no matter how distanced she was by her new identity.
"I did what I thought was the right thing to do," she confessed. "As a Jedi, it was my duty to protect the Republic and defend the innocent throughout the galaxy, and I knew that both would suffer when Vitiate's Sith invaded. But I didn't trust anyone to believe me, not after the resistance I'd faced from the Council throughout the Mandalorian Wars, and I didn't trust anyone to help me if they learned the truth, not after what I'd learned about the Sith Emperor's influence: I thought anyone might be a pawn of Vitiate, and anyone who investigated themselves would be killed or enslaved. In the end, I honestly believed that I was the only Jedi in the galaxy with the power and the wisdom to stop him, so, I chose not to reveal Vitiate's existence to anyone, not even to Malak. Instead, I chose a path which I believed would fortify the galaxy against his invasion, and it began with my search for an artefact that would powerful enough to save us all: I considered many possibilities, but in the end, the most viable one I discovered was the Star Forge.
"My journey along the path started innocently enough on Dantooine, with me believing that I'd be the one to save the Republic and Malak wondering if this was the right thing to do. After that… I fell, a little bit at a time. I felt that I couldn't afford to be slow or careful, not with an invasion imminent, so I just bulldozed over everything in my path: Jawas, Tuskens, Wookies, the Sith tombs, the Rakatans, all of them were subject to the acts of cruelty I thought would speed me to the Star Forge, and every step of the way, I slipped a little bit further out of the Light. Step by step, lie after lie, one atrocity after another, I made my way from Star Map to Star Map… and along the way, I corrupted Malak as well. I got him drunk on bloodshed and addicted to cruelty, until he had finally followed me to the border between Light and Dark, and plunged right into the shadows along with me."
She paused. This was the part that had hurt her the most when she'd seen it, and she almost considered skipping over it altogether; but then she felt Juhani's hand on her shoulder, and that was enough to give her the strength she needed to carry on.
"The most damning thing of all is that I didn't realize I was falling. I only thought that I was doing what needed to be done, and that I couldn't afford to look back in case I saw Vitiate snapping at my heels. It wasn't until I finally seized control of the Star Forge and accepted the awful power it had offered that I finally felt the Dark Side that I had nurtured within myself. I remember descending to the planet below and hiding myself away in the Temple of the Ancients, right in this very room, taking off my mask and finally looking at myself in a mirror to see how much I'd changed since I'd started my journey: the gold eyes, the black veins, the grey skin, the withering flesh… I'd fallen to the Dark Side weeks ago by then, but it wasn't until that day that I finally acknowledged it. And all I could think of was my old master, and what she'd used to say when she was at her lowest: It is such a quiet thing, to fall; far more terrible is to admit it."
She took a deep breath.
"What I saw that day didn't change my mind: once I'd finished softening up the galaxy with the aid of Rulan Prolik and HK-47, I went right on with the plan, using the power of the Star Forge to claim planets for my new empire in the hope that it would be strong enough to shield the Republic against Vitiate's invasion – exactly why I preserved industrial worlds and resource planets that might be useful in the long run. I was so convinced that my plan was perfect that I didn't yet realize that Malak had fallen past me a long time ago, didn't even think of him or the other Jedi I'd corrupted as a serious threat to my power… right until the day he nearly killed me. And then, of course, once Malak started having entire planets bombed into worthless rubble from orbit, the plan went straight to hell, but that's beside the point.
"You see, our Sith empire might have died with Malak and the Star Forge, but Vitiate is still out there, just waiting for the chance to invade. And worse still, Malak and I played right into his hands, exactly as he intended us to: the galaxy is only weaker for all the attempts I made to bolster it, and about the only thing we might have on our side to prevent an invasion is the natural Sith inclination to backstabbing and intrigue. Otherwise, we're screwed."
A ringing silence followed this little speech.
"You believe me, right?"
Vandar's brow wrinkled. "I am not certain how much of these memories are accurate," he said slowly. "But the Council were convinced that there was indeed something else behind the Mandalorian War, and what you say does seem plausible based on what we know of your past and of the Sith. Yes, Tarrah Vend, I believe you."
Tarrah almost collapsed with relief, once again only remaining seated thanks to Juhani and Ashana keeping her from toppling over.
"But this is only half of what you saw when the Star Forge exploded, is it not? You say you had a vision of the future. Does this concern what this Sith Emperor will do next?"
"To an extent," said Tarrah. "What I saw concerns multiple possibilities more than a straightforward prophecy. From here on, history forks into three distinct paths."
"Go on."
"On the left-hand path, in a few years after this conversation, I set out on a journey to stop Vitiate's empire by myself. I leave behind all my friends and loved ones, even Juhani, and they will spend the rest of their lives mourning me and wishing that I had trusted them enough to let them help me. Instead, I go into the great unknown with one other Jedi accompanying me – Eli Krootex, an old friend from the Mandalorian War – and try to slay Vitiate himself. In almost every single outcome, it ends with Eli dead and me a captive of the Emperor, being used as a handy source of power and information for decades on end. My knowledge of this galaxy and the artefacts I located will be used to guarantee a flurry of success when Vitiate finally invades, and any damage I do will only delay him. In other words, if I take this path, it will be one that ends in failure and the loss of everything I treasured, and the only comfort it can offer is the possibility that I might one day return from imprisonment to help another hero end the threat of Vitiate.
"The right-hand path means doing nothing. I try to prepare the galaxy for war, but with no proof, my warnings fall on deaf ears and even the Jedi Council begins to doubt after a while. Some even suggest that this is another attempt by Darth Revan to wage a war of her own against the galaxy. Even what I'm saying to you right now might not be enough to change the future. Eventually, I grow hateful and apathetic, drive Juhani away, and become just as miserable as my old master, until at last I die of old age, dismissed as a crackpot and indirectly responsible for driving the Republic deeper into denial… and then, once the galaxy is at the very height of its complacency, Vitiate sweeps in and begins the war. Worse still, he harvests my corpse for everything he needs: knowledge, power, a means of predicting the future through my Force connection… and the war against the Republic will be all the bloodier for it."
"And the middle path?" asked Vandar.
Tarrah braced herself for the worst, before continuing: "I make a necessary sacrifice and ensure that the biggest enabler of Vitiate's victory never has the temptation to act again."
There was a horror-stricken pause, as Bastila and Juhani looked at Tarrah with near-identical looks of shock.
"You want to kill yourself?" Bastila blurted.
"Not exactly. But… I want to make sure that my personality no longer benefits the Sith Emperor, because it's been my pride that's always done the most damage."
"But you've changed! You're better than you were as Darth Revan! How can you possibly want to destroy your personality when it's what ended the threat of Darth Malak and… and brought me back from the Dark Side?"
"And me!" Juhani added.
Ashana clearly didn't understand a word of what had just been said, but let out a similar-sounding exclamation nonetheless.
"You're not the same person you were when you were Darth Revan, Tarrah," said Bastila. "You can't want to see your identity destroyed, not after it's saved us all!"
Tarrah sighed deeply. "Bastila, the only reason why you were captured aboard the Leviathan was because I gave into my pride: I believed that only I could make the hard choices that could save the Republic, so I put my faith in the GenoHaradan-"
"The Assassins' Guild?"
"Yes, Master Vandar, I was going to mention that. Because I thought they were the ideal shortcut to saving the Galaxy, I became an assassin on behalf of its most ambitious Overseer, and because I believed that only I was important enough to be burdened with what had to be done, I didn't tell any of my friends until it was too late. Once my contact got everything that he wanted out of me, he sold us out to Malak and used everything I'd given him to set himself up as a Sith ally. It could have cost me everything. It nearly sent me plummeting into the Dark Side all over again. The only thing that saved me in the end was Juhani, and it was only because of her that I found the strength to correct my mistake."
She felt Juhani's hand on her shoulder, warm and reassuring. But she couldn't return the gesture, not yet, not when she still had a little further to go.
"But you see what I mean, don't you, Master Vandar?" Tarrah continued. "I keep making the same mistake! I've never really changed, not even after the Council put my brain back together again from scratch! I keep thinking that I know better than anyone else, and it keeps getting innocent people hurt. On the two worst paths the future might take, my pride costs the galaxy millions of lives, all because I can't stand to let others act in my stead and can't accept the possibility that I might be wrong. The only way to hamper Vitiate – and maybe give the galaxy a chance to follow my warning without being forced into it – is to take myself, my pride, and my knowledge out of the equation… and make sure that the Sith Emperor never gets a chance to use me as he does in the right-hand path. And I can't just ask you to erase my memories: that might leave enough of my original personality behind to start the whole disaster all over again. So, I have to make do with this."
Tarrah reached into a pouch on her utility belt and held out the conversion injector that she'd retrieved from Hulas' final base all those weeks ago.
Juhani recognized it immediately and let out a gasp of horror. "Tarrah, you can't-"
"What is it?" Bastila whispered.
"The last atrocity the GenoHaradan built from my hubris," explained Tarrah. "It's used to produce shapeshifter clones by conversion, altering the subject into an exact duplicate of the genetic donor – provided they survive the transition. Unfortunately, it also destroys the subject's mind and most of their memories, hence why Ashana here hasn't said much."
Ashana smiled vacantly, shifting wildly from one species to another as she dimly realized that all eyes in the room were now on her.
"You intend to erase your memories so this Sith Emperor cannot use them?" Vandar asked.
"More than that: I've seen its effect on Force-sensitives. The brain is so badly distorted that access to the Force is impossible, so Vitiate won't be able to use me as a prediction machine."
For the first time since the meeting had begun, Vandar looked genuinely affronted. "You honestly believe that such a horrific act of self-annihilation would make the galaxy better? You would be willing to inflict that kind of torture on yourself?"
"If it meant saving everyone that I love and everything that they'd worked so hard to build? If it was the only way? Then yes, I would do it."
But Juhani must have caught the tremor in her voice, because she immediately rounded on Tarrah with sudden anger. "And what if it meant breaking my heart?" she snarled, eyes suddenly brimming with tears. "You are asking me to sit by and watch you destroy yourself in mind and body, as you give up on everything simply because a vision of the future told you that victory was impossible as if you haven't already done a thousand other impossible things since you landed on Taris – as you give up on me!"
And in spite of herself, Tarrah couldn't help but blink away a few tears of her own.
"No, Juhani," she said, trying with all her might to keep her voice level. "I'm about to fall further than I ever did even when I was Revan, and I'm asking you to be there when I finally hit bottom. I'm begging you to be there to care for me when the serum is finally done converting me, to save me just as I saved you back on Dantooine. Because if my vision is right, this is the only way we can be together: on the left-hand path, I abandon you to play at being a hero and I never see you ever again, and on the right-hand path, I give into despair and drive you away. This way, even if I'm barely more than an animal, I can be always happy and I can be assured that I'll always be in the arms of someone who loves me.
"And that's why I called you here to this meeting, Master Vandar," she continued. "I want to ask you to release Juhani and myself from the Jedi Order. Whatever decision I make today, I don't think either of us will be cut out to abide by the tenets of the Order, and in truth, we haven't for a while now."
She nodded to Juhani; they'd rehearsed this part, though she hadn't told her about the circumstances they'd be making this little speech. For a moment, she swore that Juhani would refuse to continue, would dig her heels in and abandon the whole idea from beginning to end.
Instead, Juhani stepped in right on cue and said "We both swear to never use the Force for our own ends, or ever again if need be. We will settle on a world far from any influence that could allow us to command the fate of the galaxy, and there we will live as though we had never known the power of the Force, humbly, simply, and peacefully, and nobody will ever know otherwise. This we swear to do regardless of the outcome reached today, and we shall remain as you know us today: redeemed."
Thirty seconds went by as Master Vandar considered this.
"Very well," he said at last. "I grant you this freedom from Jedi principles… with the understanding that the Jedi will be watching you if you chose to accept the middle path."
Tarrah's brow wrinkled. "If?" she echoed.
"You still have yet to inject yourself, Tarrah."
"Well, I will eventually."
"Nobody said you would not. I'm simply observing that you have yet to take the final step."
Tarrah shot Vandar a glare of undisguised annoyance. "Master Vandar, you and the Jedi Council spent my time on Dantooine lying to me with every breath. I've accepted the fact that you had good reasons for that, and I respect your motives, but please, don't play games with me any longer: if you have a point to make, just make it, okay?"
At long last, a faint smile crossed Vandar's wizened little face. "The future is always in motion, Tarrah Vend. Not all predictions are as accurate as we believe them to be, and even the ones that are may still be averted or altered. You believe that you have seen all possibilities, but as you admitted, pride is a flaw that has come to define you. Perhaps, as hopeless as the left-hand path may seem, there may still be a chance for you to stop this Sith Emperor with Juhani by your side."
"Look," Tarrah snapped, "I saw all possible permutations of myself acting out these paths! I saw versions of history where I turned to the Dark Side a second time, murdered Juhani, and took control of the Sith! I saw myself replacing Hulas and becoming the next Guildmaster of the GenoHaradan with Mission and HK-47 as my lieutenants! I even saw alternate histories where I was born male, fell in love with Bastila, got married, had children with her, and then abandoned all of them to stop Vitiate!"
Bastila's eyebrows crushed upwards into her hairline. "Wait, what?"
"It doesn't matter, dammit! My point is, I saw so many variations on the same theme playing out, but they all ended in those same three paths: apathy, self-destruction, or rebirth. If there was another way out, don't you think I'd have seen it?"
"Perhaps," acknowledged Vandar. "But I also know that it is impossible for anyone, no matter how wise or powerful, to account for every potential future. Even the greatest prophets of the Force have overlooked the finer details on occasion, and you have only witnessed the future for the briefest of moments: perhaps there is more to this than you believe, and perhaps you and Juhani can succeed against this Sith Emperor where your other iterations failed."
"And if it goes wrong, I run the risk of giving Vitiate the advantage all over again, and this time getting Juhani killed."
"All decisions before you have a price, Tarrah Vend, some you have foreseen, some you have not. All of them offer opportunities for life, peace, and yes, even happiness. I cannot tell you which of them to choose. The decision, as always, is in your hands."
Tarrah hesitated, suddenly uncertain for the first time in the meeting.
She looked from the horror-stricken faces of Juhani and Bastila to the injector in her hands.
Then, she made her decision.
A/N: Before you even ask, Eli Krootex is an anagram of Exile KOTOR. I'm here to be insane :)
Up next - alternate endings!
