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REVENGE OF THE SITH

Part III – To All Things, A Beginning

 

 

 

It was done.

It was over.

The Republic had won.

But for Revan and Malak, the true war was only beginning. His plan had worked. The Trayus Academy had many students, most were Jedi who could not handle the extreme darkness of the planet and were consumed.

Things were looking good for Revan and even more so when Ellis Yoly – made general during the war – had introduced Revan to a young Iridonian technician by the name of Bao-Dur. The young techie had an idea – if they could somehow destroy the magnetic energy field around the planet, it would crash the Mandalorian ships.

Revan kept this informative plan to himself and told the young techie to get to work, telling Ellis to help. In the back of his mind, Revan knew the consquences. If they could get something like that up and running, not only would it destroy the Mandalorians, it would eliminate some Republic soldiers too.

He had heard the rumors; that some of the senior officers didn’t trust him, especially after he went and made Ellis a general and now this plan of coming to a world full of dark energy…sometimes even he thought he had flipped, but it would pay off. He knew it would.

So he and his ships baited the brutes and they came, seeking the worthy battle Revan had promised. And most descended on the battle’s surface, just to be met with Jedi and Republic officers alike. Only a few, as the real battle was overhead.

Revan met Mandalore in battle on the surface, the two fighting for all that it was worth and when Revan – the master duelist – sliced the head from the famed warrior’s shoulders, he grinned – a heart stopping, evil grin, before placing a plasma grenade into the mouth of the headless man and tossing it at his followers.

From there the true battle began. Mandalorians rushed towards the Jedi master, but they were beaten back by hundreds of troops. Though he knew he needed to go, Revan stood transfixed as he watched the battle going on. Those Jedi on the surface were mostly younger students from the Order, but their masters also joined them in battle.

And the Echani…he remembered being in an earlier battle and watching as Yusanis and Arren led their warriors against the Mandalorians. Revan had never seen anything so…beautiful come from something so vile.

The way the Echani seemed to dance as they battled, their movements graceful and an ode to a certain art form, was just breathtaking to watch. Revan had immediately sought out both Arren and Yusanis and had asked the leader to teach his own troops the grace and style he had shown on the battle field. Revan had gathered a choice few soldiers from the fleet – ones he would use for his own army later – and brought them before Yusanis for training.

These few would become his assassins when this nightmare was over.

But now, he was on his own ship, after barely escaping the chaos on the surface below. He had told only those closest in his circle what would most likely happen once Ellis gave the signal, so as a small battle raged on in the air and on the surface, Revan had pulled his fleet back.

He and Malak stood on the command deck of the Titan – Ellis on his left, with Adm. Saul Karath on the other side of the young Jedi – and Revan told Ellis to give the signal.

And then…it was over. At least, it seemed to be. There was a bright light and all he could hear were Ellis’ screams…

Revan awoke in a slight panic and was sweating. His eyes darted around his surroundings and only when he heard the familiar call of ‘perimeter secure’ from HK did he relax. He had only been in space for two days and already he was being bombarded by memories – his memories, long ago thoughts that had been surpressed by the Jedi Order when he had been captured.

He had made a list of the planets he would be traveling to and what he needed to do on each. The first stop though, was that of Malachor V, the place of his fall. And it seemed the Force sensed the same thing he could, as it seemed to be centering his memories on only those things that revolved around the shadowy planet. It seemed the closer they got, the more his visions were of past events happening there.

He put his head in his hands and sighed. While he knew going alone was the best course of action, he didn’t realize how homesick or how lonely he would be without his crew around. In the past two days, he had already sat within the starboard dorms trying to capture Mission’s voice in his head; spent time in the med bay remembering Jolee’s exciting – though extremely long – stories; he had only been in the cockpit once, the day he had left.

It felt weird to be sitting in the pilot’s chair and not hear or see anyone. It was worse when he had come to relieve T3 and remembered the times he had hung out here with Carth and Bastila.

Bastila…

How he missed her. She would be able to ease his troubled mind, but their distance kept the bond they shared strained and he was beginning to go through some slight withdrawls. He felt a void where she should’ve been and though he knew her to be all right, it felt as though she was gone from his life.

Suddenly, being in the port dorm – the place where they had shared their first kiss and where he had his breakdown after the Leviathan – seemed to make him miss her more. Hell, he was sleeping in their bed. Oh Force, he thought miserably. He couldn’t take any more.

Throwing back the thin sheets, he placed his bare feet upon the cold steel floor and rose from bed. He padded out the door, telling HK to shut down for the night, before making his way into the communication center.

He knew it had to extremely early in the morning, but while his body called for his sleep, his thoughts called for a good stiff drink. Ignoring both, Revan began making himself a cup of caffa. He blocked out the number of times he had stood here with some member of the crew, laughing and talking…

He yawned loudly before throwing back the entire cup, or rather he tried, but the liquid burned his tongue and then his throat before he decided to take his time in drinking. He tried focusing his mind on other things, like the images he had seen and the knowledge he learned.

He could register certain feelings; worry over the war, happiness at seeing his previous master, his anger engulfing him, but they could only be grasped for a short period of time. He needed to make sense of all this and discover who he was and why he had fallen.

The images he had been plagued with the last year had been hard to see, much less to take that it was he – Jayden Korr, redeemed smuggler working for the Republic against the Sith – that had done all those horrible things. No one else was to blame for the path he helped his former friends on.

It was his words and actions that cause the majority of the Jedi he had taken with him to die or to join him. He had turned his best friend into a monster. His battle with Malak had truly drained him on the Star Forge and no one, not even Bastila, knew how he had tried to bring his friend back to the light.

Had he been successful? He didn’t know. He just hoped he had brought some measure of peace to his friend.

This was why he needed to go alone. This was his mission of correcting his past mistakes and that may include dipping into his dark side powers to do it. He would rather die than to have his friends see him like that – or like this – and knowing that if he needed to reach into that part of him that was Darth Revan, he most certainly could not afford to have Bastila around. Her pain from going through it the last time was still palpable, and he refused to hurt her like that.

So for now, he sat within the quiet of the communications center, within the hums and churning of the Ebon Hawk and thought about his next move.

 

 

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