A/N: First off, many thanks to Sabretooth who is the most awesomesauce beta ever <3 I can't possibly tell you how helpful it is to give him a katana and let him loose :D Besides that, thanks to Emperor Devon and Rogue Nine for their encouragement ^.^

Zomgbbq it took FOREVER to choose the title so I hope you like it. Sabre and I are going nuts anyway :P Enjoy!

Prologue

The security officer hailed the large speeder and it pulled over. The driver deactivated the force shields and asked, “Any problem, sir?”

He flung his lekku over his shoulders and sighed irritably. “Just a routine check on a routine night. Open up the back as well. I need to have a look.” He scrawled the licence plate number on his datapad and strolled to the back of the speeder. His eyes widened when he saw who the occupant was. “Pardon me, sir. I wasn’t aware that this was your vehicle.”

The human in the sombre suit nodded. “It doesn’t matter. Carry on, officer.”

He scribbled a note and discreetly eyed the girl next to the politician. His lip curled with distaste—she was young enough to be his daughter. A second glance revealed that she was, in fact, his daughter.

That couldn’t change things.

He pulled out the blaster pistol and shot the politician in the head. The girl’s screams didn’t distract him from dispatching the bodyguard with another well-aimed shot. The assassin turned to the girl who was weeping over her father’s body.

“You should run,” he said quietly.

She turned on him instead, attacking him with all the passion of a Sith. “You schutta! I’ll kill you!”

He didn’t pull the trigger, but he did club her with the pistol’s butt. She fell clumsily on the gravel, vision wavering and ears ringing. Pushing herself off the ground, she rose unsteadily but slumped back down. The assassin crouched down and grasped her chin roughly between gloved fingers, bringing her face close to his.

“You will remember nothing of tonight.”

“L-like hell I won’t” she spat, voice slurred and rasping painfully. “I’ll get you. He’s a good man. Shouldn’t die like this.”

The assassin sounded almost amused. “Your father was going to lead your planet to war. Now he will not.” His next words rang with command, sending ripples across her mind. “You will forget everything that happened tonight.”

She struggled to remember why she was here, why this stranger was holding her; it was almost intimate, she thought drowsily. But he let go and she was sinking, sinking deeper and deeper into the dark murk.

He shot her in the shoulder, taking care to make the wound a non-debilitating one. Efficiently, he stripped them of valuables. Ducking behind the patrol speeder, he removed the uniform and changed into nondescript clothes. He decided not to frame the unconscious officers—no point in getting them executed. He drove the patrol speeder away from the site and left the two officers dozing in natural positions.

Before dawn, he was in his apartment. Pulling the mask off, he sighed as it came free. Splashing his face with water, he scrubbed vigorously to get the smell of latex out of his skin. Despite all the technology in the galaxy, no one had ever tried to make scentless latex and it vexed him greatly. However, it was a moot point as he had acquired the mask in Nar Shaddaa, and the sane did not choose to think too much about that. He rolled the lekku up neatly and turned the mask inside out over the lekku. The mask and the valuables were packed into a small and extremely heavy crate. It was lined with lead and emblazoned with warnings about explosives to discourage the unhealthily curious. Lugging it downstairs, he was relieved to see that his contact was already there. Soon, he was on a ship leaving the system, ignoring his fellow passengers who were discussing the murder.

Headphones blocked out the chatter, and he drifted off to the soulful music.

How much longer could he keep this up?

quite an interesting start Bee...you had me suckered to thinking it was just an ordinary traffic stop...nice job with that. I look forward to seeing where you take it form here.

Very nice prologue, though I'll admit, the main thing that drew me in was the title, sounds so dark and eerie, I really wish I could come up with titles that awesome...

Looking forward to Chap. 1 :thumbsup:

Thanks for the comments! :) I'm especially glad to hear about the title, because Sabre and I agonised over it for almost an entire day. At that point I would have gladly gone with the most boring and drab title if he would let me :xp:

The Sabre is no ordinary beta, Bee. The Sabre is a beta auteur. o_Q

He flung his lekku over his shoulders and sighed irritably. “Just a routine check on a routine night. Open up the back as well. I need to have a look.” He scrawled the licence plate number in his datapad and strolled to the back of the speeder. His eyes widened when he saw who the occupant was. “Pardon me, sir. I wasn’t aware that this was your vehicle.”
- It's spelled license, or at least it is in America. :xp:
- I think you scrawl onto or on something, not in it.
- It's unclear as to who the last sentence is directed at. Going by the rest of the paragraph, the officer could still be talking to the driver instead of the person in the back.

The human in the sombre suit nodded. “It doesn’t matter. Carry on, officer.” He scribbled a note and discreetly eyed the girl next to the politician. His lip curled with distaste—she was young enough to be his daughter. A second glance revealed that she was, in fact, his daughter.
- I suggest starting a new paragraph from "He scribbled..." onwards, otherwise, it reads as if the human in the suit did the note scribbling and so forth.
- The last two sentences are confusing. Is the girl the politician's daughter, or the officer's daughter? Going by the last sentence, it reads as if it's the latter.

He pulled out the blaster pistol out and shot the politician in the head.
- You have one too many 'out's.

He didn’t pull the trigger, but he did club her with the pistol’s butt.
- Stylistically, I think it's awkward to phrase the last part this way. I suggest "the butt of his pistol".

Efficiently, he stripped them of valuables. Ducking behind the patrol speeder, he stripped off the uniform and changed into nondescript clothes.
- Using the same verb in consecutive sentences is a pet peeve of mine :p

Pulling the mask off, he sighed as it came free and splashed his face with water, scrubbing vigorously to get the smell of latex out of his skin.
- The mask came free, then splashed his face with water? I doubt that's what you mean, so you need to specify who or what did the splashing and scrubbing. It would make it much clearer if you separated this sentence into two.

Despite all the technology that they had, no one had ever tried to make scentless latex and it vexed him greatly.
- Who's "they"? In a story full of pronouns, introducing another one is going to be a bit confusing. I suggest "that had been invented".

Rolling the lekku up and turning the mask inside out over it, he packed it and the valuables into a small and extremely heavy crate.
- You use 'it' twice in the sentence and I think you're referring to two different things in each case. I had trouble understanding it, so I suggest a bit of tweaking in word usage.

Lugging it down, he was relieved to see that his contact was already there.
I suggest you specify "downstairs" if that's what you mean, otherwise I think the phrase reads awkwardly.


It's a pretty good start, though things are pretty vague with your extensive use of pronouns. I think that's your intent though, so I understand the need for vagueness.

The Sabre is no ordinary beta, Bee. The Sabre is a beta auteur. <3

- It's spelled license, or at least it is in America.
- I think you scrawl onto or on something, not in it.
- It's unclear as to who the last sentence is directed at. Going by the rest of the paragraph, the officer could still be talking to the driver instead of the person in the back.-I try to use UK English :p
-True! I shall amend that. But somehow "scrawled on" kills the datapad effect O_o I'm weird.
- Could still be, but I presumed that the change in the form of address was clear enough to indicate that he was talking to the passenger. Would spacing it out help?

- I suggest starting a new paragraph from "He scribbled..." onwards, otherwise, it reads as if the human in the suit did the note scribbling and so forth.
- The last two sentences are confusing. Is the girl the politician's daughter, or the officer's daughter? Going by the last sentence, it reads as if it's the latter.
-Good point. Fixed!
-It is the latter. The officer isn't that old, as you'll see later :p

- You have one too many 'out's.*slaps head and fixes* Too much incomplete sentence restructuring, meh.

- Stylistically, I think it's awkward to phrase the last part this way. I suggest "the butt of his pistol".-Fixed! I do prefer it that way, but have been trying to be less verbose. Nice to know there's people who like me being wordy :D

- Using the same verb in consecutive sentences is a pet peeve of mine It annoys me too. I can't believe I didn't spot that >.< I'll have to reread everything and make sure I didn't do dumb things like that.

- The mask came free, then splashed his face with water? I doubt that's what you mean, so you need to specify who or what did the splashing and scrubbing. It would make it much clearer if you separated this sentence into two.
DON'T JUDGE HIS POWERS OF H2O PRODUCTION! Just kidding :p Shall clarify it now.

- Who's "they"? In a story full of pronouns, introducing another one is going to be a bit confusing. I suggest "that had been invented".-That's true. Amended, but to something else :p

- You use 'it' twice in the sentence and I think you're referring to two different things in each case. I had trouble understanding it, so I suggest a bit of tweaking in word usage.Tweaked! Better?

I suggest you specify "downstairs" if that's what you mean, otherwise I think the phrase reads awkwardly.I changed it to downstairs, but not sure how else to streamline it besides going into a long and boring bit detailing how he got off the planet :( Any ideas?

Yep, it was intended to be vague, though I had hoped that I could avoid the resulting side effect of confusion! D: Thanks so much for the review! <3 I'll give you lollies if we ever meet in RL :D

Chapter One
Part One:Jabberwillenglock

Revan threw an arm over his eyes as the sky brightened. Shiny new shoes clicked sharply against the ferrocrete as happy, productive members of society went to work. He groped blindly for his bottle and raised his head a little; just enough to take a swig from it without choking. Running a hand over his cheeks, he wearily noted that his stubble was rapidly turning into a beard. He had been sleeping on the park bench for a week, and was well acquainted with every rough slat. The weather had been kind (if rain could be considered kind), although it didn’t do anything for his body odour. He was glad that he couldn’t smell himself, judging by the way people wrinkled their noses or flinched when he approached.

The portly policeman was vacating the occupants of other benches, which was all he ever did. It was a good thing that the homeless gravitated towards this park, Revan thought sourly. They gave him a wonderful excuse to loiter around the Core. Looking out of the window surely warmed the cockles of every politician’s heart. Ah, the poor bums, a sure sign of the planet’s prosperity. We must be doing something right.

He rolled off the bench and shuffled off before the policeman could shoo him, tipping his hat ironically at the pasty-faced man who spat disdainfully when he passed. Every muscle of his was protesting the thought of another day spent slouching against the marble faзade of the Core, or Force forbid, another night on the bench.

The rumbling of his stomach reminded him that he had not eaten in two days, and he dug a sandwich out of an inner pocket, absent-mindedly peeling off the damp paper. He made his way to the back of the Core, clutching his sandwich. The others were gathering, and there were murmurs of discontent and envious looks when they saw that he had food. Ignoring them, he took up his usual post with his back against the cold stone, squatting in a vain attempt to appease his aching body. He ate the sandwich slowly, taking small bites and chewing carefully.

“-ngh he’s all jabberwillenglock.”

“It’s a conspiracy! It’s a bomb! Tomorrow and wherefore the songs of the young.”

“He’ll kill us and he’ll laugh. The deaths give him power and they’ll kill her dead. Dead. Dead!” The grizzled old man shook his bony fists at the sky.

“Droids raffledraw? The speeder killed my daughter and they battlecryed and jumped like peas! Shoulda tipped better.”

Revan finished the sandwich and wiped his fingers on his coat, giving it a cursory sniff. It still smelled vaguely of juma, which was to be expected, since most of the juice ended up on it anyway. He leaned back against the wall and shut his eyes as his senses flowed outwards.

Dodging the neon phantoms of jabberwillenglock, he wove his way to the minds of the politicians. Each consciousness was sharply outlined in black, often hinting at shades of grey. Numbers were clicking into place, budgets were being balanced (or were forced to do so), perfectly acceptable words were being abused in fatuous speeches.

“Quick, effective, and bipartisan action…”

“…strong and decisive legislation.”

“It is the duty of citizens to abide by the supreme council’s decision…”

Patiently, he teased out the fine silk threads that connected them to see if the lines of power had shifted. Every mind was formed by layers of thoughts and beliefs but he looked straight at the core. Today, he traced a certain distinctive shape—the bending of logic into a tight knot—in yet another mind.

Someone was doing this; someone was twisting reason to fit an agenda, and it was spreading like a virus—jumping from mind to mind as the seat of power was conquered by a cold philosophy. He briefly considered digging deeper to find the identity of the source, but decided against it. If it truly was propagating among them, finding someone who had the information that he needed would require many attempts. Even then, the search might cause permanent damage. A sudden epidemic of insane politicians was hardly subtle.

He was frustrated, but he skimmed through their minds again. This day had brought the same drab people with still no sign of his quarry. Subconsciously pulling his coat closer, he settled in to wait.

Interesting new chapter, Bee. It sounds like Revan is a loner/undercover agent by your descriptions. Either he's actually a drunk bum now, or he's putting on a spectacular show.

Nice job. :)

Thanks Litofsky! :D Hmmm, you'll have to see what happens:P

Nice chap, although it did seem a bit short, can't wait to see more :thumbsup:

He's a bum :xp:
There's never been a 'Drunk Bum Revan' before I don't think so that's what this has to be! :D
Nice work Bee.
Looking forward to see if I'm right!

I very highly doubt it, :lol:

Thanks guys! It looked longer in word ;_; I shouldn't have split this and the next chapter, but oh well. What's done is done=p

You're off to a nice start Bee. Glad you took up the reins of authordom ;)

I really don't need to say anything much since everyone else addressed and you have good description of the characters and situation. It is an interesting situation since I have not read many fics with a punch drunk Revan. I am curious to see where this is going.

Thanks, JM12! Well, I do write when I feel like it;p

Chapter One
Part Two: Abyss

The bell atop the Core has just tolled, signaling the hour before sunset, when there a stir among the doormen and security guards. Revan strained to hear the speeder through their ears, quietly appreciating the sleek shape. There was someone inside.

For a brief moment, he examined the person. And then he was running, all fatigue forgotten, slipping and sliding around corners in his scuffed shoes.

“And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.”

He hissed an expletive through his teeth as he slowed down, casting about rapidly with his eyes and the Force. He had been unforgivably—perhaps fatally—careless. He pulled his hat lower, and exhaled. He was now a stooped man clutching at his coat as he turned the corner, the sharp chill clawing its way up from exposed bony ankles, no thanks to his ill-fitting pants. He limped slowly across the square and melted into the crowd.

He had his target, and a name which had been whispered in awe by the Core’s staff. And now they had their target. He needed his weapons. Now.

There was someone following him.

He was safe—for now. If he lingered, he would lead the assassin straight back to his safehouse. Discreetly, he felt for the vibrodagger which he had strapped to his wrist, unsheathing it and palming the hilt. To get to the nearest safehouse, he would have to go past a major thoroughfare before slipping into the back of the apartment building. It was a risk, but he decided to take it. His lightsaber was also there, thank the Force. Using it would not be the stupidest thing he had done today.

Within fifteen minutes, he was sprinting up the stairs to the second floor of the building. He listened at the door before letting himself in quickly and locking down the door console. Seconds later, he was shedding his worn clothes and pulling on a fresh change of clothing with admirable speed. As he was hooking the lightsaber on his belt, the doorbell tinkled cheerily. The person on the other side had a terrifying lack of Force presence. He would have run, but he needed to silence this yapping tongue first. Vibrodagger in hand, he unlocked the door and waited.

After the space of three measured breaths, the door slid open. He moved with it, and as the person stepped into the apartment, the vibrodagger sliced through the air in a deadly arc. The woman was already in motion, balancing her body as her leg shot up, her foot catching him in the throat. Bending backwards, he had missed most of the force of the blow, but it still hit him and it hurt. He caught her foot in the air and twisted it. A side flip ensured that it didn’t injure her, and a second one wrenched her foot out of his hand, her momentum throwing him off-balance. Flowing smoothly, she dropped her hands to the ground and damn he hated being kicked in the face. She grabbed his dagger hand—a foolish move, he was surely stronger than her—and kneed him in the solar plexus. His breath forcibly left his lungs as he remembered that only one person had been able to beat him like this—to foresee every move and counter before he himself knew what he was going to do…

She pushed him down and he let her because somewhere in his buzzing head, wheels were turning as impossibility waged war with hope. Removing the dagger from limp fingers, she held it to his throat as he stared at her in disbelief.

“Hello, Revan.”

:eek: Is it Bastila? Is it the Exile? Is it, is it--who the heck is it!

I, um--don't suppose you happen to have the next chapter ready?

I do, but it needs a major clean-up because I was transposing it from third person to first person:P Or maybe not O_o You'll see!

Bee! I didn't even see that this was out! I'm terribly sorry for not reading it sooner! I loved how you depicted the Exile walking in on Revan's shop, beating the crud out of him, and then holding a dagger to his throat.

I liked the action scene quite a bit, especially the "damn he hated being kicked in the face." It was a nice change to hear Revan's thoughts on getting beaten.

Great job, Bee! Looking forward to more! :)

EDIT: Upon reading the first chapter again, may I ask if it was Revan that assassinated the politician?

Thanks! ;D Hey, I need to write Exile as a bit more badass, since I usually write her as weepy and needy >.< Hee, Sabre practically rewrote the action scene. It received his tender loving attention closely, despite the fact that the fight probably would have lasted all of six seconds in RL :P

Yes, it was Revan:P You spotted it well! ;p

Hee, Sabre practically rewrote the action scene. It received his tender loving attention closely, despite the fact that the fight probably would have lasted all of six seconds in RL
Without my "tender loving attention" the fight scene looked like it was 50 minutes long, and in slow motion too. >.<

Great! Another story about the Exile in the works, but an interesting one at that.

Maybe I should aim for shorter chapters with more content open to the imagination. I hate cliffhangers because they always force the reader to come back!

Well I'll be back to see if Revan is really as powerless as he seemed.

Sabre, that is true ;p

Darth_Yuthura, thanks! Hee, chapter 1 and 2 should have been published as one chapter, so that's my mistake:P

Ah, I thought it might be Revan in the prologue! It reminded me of Granta Omega taking off the synthetic flesh. (He's in some EU stuff) While Revan was surprised in that fight in chp 2, it's good to see he still has his wits about him. I actually enjoy the fact that Revan is not some uber- invincible, near god for once - he can be beaten, but can also take a kick to the face! :shades2:

The chapters were a bit short, true, but better than mine that can't even fit into one post. :xp: The way you ended the second chapter was perfect - unlike DY I just adore cliffhangers. :D

I'll keep my eyes open for chapter 3. ;)

~HOP

*iz lag*

Thank you very much for the comments! I really should read the EU stuff to give me a better feel of the SW universe... But I'm lazy and I have no idea where to start. Hee, poor Revan. No, he's not invincible, but Sabre keeps reminding me how badass he is, so I can't bully him too much :p

Hey, long is good! Short chapters usually annoy me, but for some reason I seem to be writing shorter and shorter things >:3 Lazy of me, tsk tsk.

Thanks again! :D

DOUBLE POST :O Once again, here is a tribute to Sabre for being awesomesauce. THEN WHO WAS X??

If you haven't read it, I suggest you read A Reason (http://lucasforums.com/showthread.php?t=177079), which provides some backstory for the conversation in the second half of the chapter. It's not vital, but hey :p

* * *

Chapter Two
Part One: Where I Am

She explored when he went to shower. The bedroom was very small and an army cot served as his bed. She smiled at the thought of all six feet of Revan trying to fit onto the cot. His feet must have been hanging over the edge, night after night. Impulsively, she sat on the bed, irritated (even if she wouldn’t admit it to herself) by how neat it was. She shook out the blanket and clicked her tongue disapprovingly when she saw that he slept with exactly one pillow. Nevertheless, she tried it out, and was even more disappointed when she discovered that it was lumpy.

The rest of the apartment was equally cramped and spartan. The cupboards were empty, save for a few changes of clothing and some canned food. Besides his lightsaber, there was nothing that could have been considered a personal item. How very Jedi.

She examined the hilt closely, running her fingers over the unadorned metal and weighing it in her hand to gauge the balance. Although it was far too shiny and new to be the original hilt, it looked exactly like the one he had used as a Padawan. It was heavier than what she was used to, and the energy emitter had been shifted to the tip sheathed in ebony. Oddly enough, all the crystal slots were in the same half of the hilt, and she decided that she wouldn’t want to use his lightsaber if at all possible—the balance was so different that she might just decapitate herself.

“Yes, it is a replica. I’ve rearranged the crystals and the emitter, but otherwise, it’s exactly the same.”

She didn’t bother turning around. A cupboard door creaked open, and the quiet sound of clothing being pulled over bare skin suddenly made her feel unbearably lonely. “What happened to the old one?” she asked.

“Hm. I suppose that it went down with the ship when Malak betrayed me and the Jedi decided that saving me would be a good idea.” He came up to stand behind her, closer than she was comfortable with. “Either that, or Kavar has it stashed somewhere. He still has your shoto hilt, you know.”

She moved away from him, going to stand by the window. “He’s dead.”

“How?” Revan asked sharply.

“Kreia killed him. She killed them all—the last remnants of the Jedi Council. Kavar, Master Vrook, Master Zez-Kai Ell. She drained the Force from them.”

“Damn. Is there anyone…?”

“No. Atris lives, but she fell. And now we have a lot of Sith holocrons that we don’t know what to do with.”

“Are you okay? I mean, Kavar…”

“I think so.”

“Oh. And the Order?”

“Shaky. I was training some adults. They mean well, but their methods can be...unorthodox.”

“Then why aren’t you with them?”

“You would do well to ask yourself the same thing. And Bastila is with them.”

The ensuing silence was long and loud. She wondered whether he had really loved Bastila, and whether he still did.

“Is she well?”

“Yes. She still loves you.” Even after all these years, she thought.

“She loves the man that she and the Council created.”

She gave him that ambiguous, lopsided half-smile. They both watched each other, still just a little wary, still locked in their own minds. She looked away after a time. To break the silence, she let her eyes wander around the apartment as she said, “It seems that old habits die hard.”

“Old feelings die harder.”

She made a small cynical sound. He wasn’t sure what to make of it. They had never needed words then, but now she was utterly unreadable. She obviously wasn’t ready to let the bond reform, and with good reason.

This safehouse was compromised, so he packed all his clothing and the food. She watched him silently all the while, smiling slightly when their eyes met. Shouldering his bag, he nodded towards the door. “Do you have anything that you want to get? It’s too late to get out of the city, but we should once the trams start running—lie low for a while. Until then, I have another place where we can stay the night.”

“And I have a place which has a sofa. Something tells me that it’s a luxury you lack.”

He couldn’t suppress a grin. “I would have given you the bed anyway. I need to pick up my other lightsaber; give me the address and I’ll meet you there.”

She was already out of the door, and the dim light in the corridor caught her face oddly. “Once, you would have always known where I was.”

* * *

Part Two: Justify

It was an unsettling tram ride—she had lapsed into silence. As they disembarked, she strode off and he let her go, figuring that she would return when she was ready, and if not, he could locate her anyway.

He was as presumptuous as ever; she had never said that she wanted to stay with him, or travel with him, but he (rightly) assumed that she did. It annoyed her, as did the way he always unsettled her. She had thought that she had laid her demons to rest at Malachor V, but the sight of him awakened the pain. They had to end the war, and he was at the opposite end of the galaxy, but she couldn’t forget what HK-47 had said.

“…many of the Jedi and Republic soldiers who died were not Revan’s strongest supporters.”

“How much do you remember?” she still didn’t look at him, but she had tightened her lips.

“Almost everything.” He hoped that he could.

“Good. Then you can tell me why you sent me to Malachor V.” She clipped the edge off every word, the words tapping out a staccato beat.

“The war had to end.”

“So I was told. But that’s not all, is it?”

He hesitated. “Because I wanted you to fall.”

Her voice was distant as she asked, “Why?”

“I dreamt of the True Sith. They used you to hold me in their power. They…hurt you.” How do I make you understand?

“So?”

“I wanted to keep you close, and safe. I’m sorry.”

“It never occurred to you to tell me any of this?”

“I wanted to protect you.” And you were so far away, he thought sadly.

“And you did this by trying to either make me fall to the Dark Side or kill me?”

There was nothing he could say because that was nothing that truly justified it.

She turned on her heels and walked away, fists clenched. A middle-aged man caught Revan’s eye and shrugged sympathetically. Revan smiled resignedly and shook his head. Women, he thought ruefully. He followed her, but she entered the turbolift and closed the door in his face. Sighing, he prepared to wait for the next one.

Something literally knocked the breath from him, but he heard the snap hiss of a lightsaber being ignited. His own blades parried the assailant’s, violet and red beams catching the single scarlet sabre in a lock. Vaguely, he heard screaming, and the man’s grunt as he released the lock and slammed his elbow into the man’s face. A second later, the Sith was dead, but Revan was falling.

Falling with her.

Ooo, the next chapter's out!

I like the way this story is going. Keep it up, Bee! :D

Very nice, Bee! I love the conversation between Lei and Revan: it's so agonizing for both of them (or such is the feeling that I get). The part with the "middle-aged man" and Revan was a nice touch of comedy, but I was surprised when you mentioned that Revan is using violet and red blades (the colors, to me, seem to speak for his character).

I also concur on your analysis of the Bastila/Revan romance (that Bastila fell in love with her own creation, in a manner of speaking). It would seem that Lei and Revan shared a relationship (how close, however, remains to be seen), and where it goes I do not know. Don't disappoint me, Bee, or there will be schozzlation the severest of manners! :p

Endorenna, thanks! :)

Litofsky, indeed it is. They didn't part on good terms >.< plus Lei has had years to stew over it :lol: I based that on the vision of Revan in the caves on Korriban in TSL. So what does it say about his personality, hmmm? :p Well, actually I wrote that 'cuz it sounded dramatic :lol: But yeah, subsequently, I thought about it and it seemed true. Hee, indeed you will have to see, and what would you consider a letdown? Thanks for the great review, btw! :) I love detailed critiques!

P.S. Schozzlation is a state of mind! I DO NOT FEAR YOU!

Revan and Lei have so much history together! I wonder if he will end up with Lei or Bastila, or neither of them???
The conversation seemed to really cut into the both of them.

Wonderful story, Bee. Really, really, peeked my interest in wanting to see what happens in the future chapters.
Can't wait for more.


[[PS: Am a *little* sad that it wasn't in fact a Drunk Bum Revan, but anywaaaays.. :xp: ]]

Thanks! :p I'm really tempted to give away spoilers, but what the heck :P

Hey, you could always write a fic with drunk Revan ;D

Excellent chapter, Bee! Keep up the good writing!

Wow your fic is really coming along Bee. There has been a lot of speculation as to how much Revan remembered post KOTOR. You put some perspective on that and you drawn on some possibilities based upon scenes in TSL. Very good in the description. I like this fic a lot.

Litofsky, indeed it is. They didn't part on good terms >.< plus Lei has had years to stew over it :lol: I based that on the vision of Revan in the caves on Korriban in TSL. So what does it say about his personality, hmmm? :p Well, actually I wrote that 'cuz it sounded dramatic :lol: But yeah, subsequently, I thought about it and it seemed true. Hee, indeed you will have to see, and what would you consider a letdown? Thanks for the great review, btw! :) I love detailed critiques!

P.S. Schozzlation is a state of mind! I DO NOT FEAR YOU!

So has Revan (or the time that he has remembered, and I imagine that your Revan is quite insightful).

Yes, I remember that vision quite well. What does it say about Revan as a person? Violet seems to be a Jedi color, but red's definitely Sith- perhaps he acknowledges that he is both Jedi and Sith (or perhaps neither?), and uses his realization to his advantage?

Letdown? That only occurs if the quality degrades significantly- which is impossible for Bee. :p

No problem for the critiques- in my experience, small reviews help the writer keep in touch with their fan base. SCHOZZOLATION IS INEVITABLE. Resistance is futile, Bee. Futile.

CommanderQ, thankies!

JM12, yay! :) I prefer to think that he'd remember everything--such a strong personality can't be submerged indefinitely! Thanks!

Litofsky, Revan should be stewing with guilt >:3 Yeah, insightful and angsty to boot xD Yep--I always think of it a replica of the lightsaber that he had as a Sith. Violet--replica of his original blade, though I like to imagine he trained in dual-wielding under Kavar at some point. OH HOW WOULD YOU KNOW! I have produced utter gibberish before :lol: Of course it is. I'm more or less permanently schozzled. It's just how schozzled I am!

Love this Bee

Good to see Revans still around but now I cant consider it cannon because of the new mmo


Great I will defineyly be on to this

Hehehe, drunk Revan. :lol:

Now on topic...

Great job Bee. Revan and Lei's relationship was well done. They don't hate eachother by any means, but there are still unresolved feelings on both sides...I liked it. :D I like to think that he remembers everything (or at least most) of his past.

Indeed, this has peeked my interest as well...scrolling, the chapter seemed long but when I read it, it felt like only a couple minutes. I read fast when I am interested. :)

Great update!

~HOP

Hey, you could always write a fic with drunk Revan ;D

I am going to put a serious amount of thought to that! Expect it soon! :lol:

Anyways, back on topic :D ... So? ... When's the next chap, eh? :xp:

Very nice, liked the length of it, everything else has been said, looking forward to more :thumbsup:

knight 12167, thanks! :D

HOP, that's high praise :lol: Yep, that pretty much sums up their screwy relationship ;o

Mr_BFA, well, it's ready, but the chapter after that isn't :/ Yay for drunk Revan fic!

Rabish Bini, thanks! At least this one wasn't a ridiculously short segment eh? :p

Great read, well worth the de-merits I got for reading it at school:D

We want chapters!
Serious, Bee .. what's with you to keep us waiting for this loooooonnnnngggg!!!!!!
:lol:

If Bee need more time to do chapters like the last few i say we let bee take bee's time. this story is fantastic

True, true.

If Bee need more time to do chapters like the last few i say we let bee take bee's time. this story is fantastic
Look at what they think of you, Bee. Now maybe if you'll shtop being so lazy and actually write something. >:(

mur'phon, awww, thanks! That's high praise :) I hope you didn't get in too much trouble.

Mr_BFA, well, it's always nice to have someone enthusiastic :D

Chevron 7 locke, you have learned well, young one *nods wisely and strokes inexistent beard*

Sabretooth, between this and your nagging I polished! And update nao yay!


Chapter 3
Part 1: Freefall

The turbolift was descending rapidly and she swallowed as the pressure in her ears built up. Nevertheless, she leaned against the cool metal, tapping her foot impatiently. The two teenaged lovers (probably playing truant) giggled and whispered, while a young woman wearing too much make-up checked her reflection.

There was a beep and the lights went out.

They plummeted in free fall.

She plunged both silvery blades into the wall. The lift’s walls screamed as she fought to slow their descent, praying that the walls could withstand the stress of both gravity and the Force pulling in opposite directions. As the metal melted away slowly, choking fumes filled the lift. She felt the wall give and the blades plunged through, grazing the wall of the shaft. She hung on grimly as the lift tilted. The metallic smoke was not sucked out into the vacuum of the shaft—it had been breached.

Another gentle push sideways was enough to ensure that the lift was scraping along both sides of the shaft, the screech of metal deafening her. Deactivating her lightsabers, she braced herself and pulled. The lift screeched to an unsteady stop, balanced precariously at an angle.

Revan was with her, in her; love mingling with fear for her, beating against her mind.

Sparks from a control panel fizzed as doors opened above her.

She pushed the civilians into the lowest part of the lift, ignoring how it was rocking dangerously. The walls were too slick and the angle was too steep for good footing—the shaft wasn’t much wider than the lift itself.

There was a small sob, and she turned to see the young girl looking at her. Despite her lover standing protectively over her, the girl’s eyes were brimming with despair.

“Get down. Stay out of the way.”

They were frozen with fear.

“Get down!”

The Sith landed right on cue—one more second and the lift would have resumed falling. He and his friends balanced the civilians’ weight nicely. They forced the trapdoor on the lift’s ceiling open and she pushed.

Metal doors buckled and burst open. Revan stepped off the ledge…

The first Sith dived in, but the other was caught off guard and fell backwards against the wall of the shaft. A sabrestaff hummed to life, bathing the lift in bloody light as the man slid down the wall.

Revan landed and there was a flash of violet light…

The exile drew the Force around the Sith assassin, snapping it tight as he fought to escape her grip. She threw her shoto but the sabrestaff whirled, knocking the shoto away and nearly decapitating the second Sith who made it in. The lift was slipping, the sharp sound of metal tearing at her ears, and she held on held on held on because he was outside and because she…

because she still loved him.

White streaks of agony roared through her. Five tons of metal. Blindly, she knocked the lift sideways, hoping to jam it again. Her body worked on instinct, parrying the flurry of blows that rained down on her. She had to keep herself between the Sith assassins and the civilians. Her vision was getting hazy. She felt him enter the lift, felt him make her let go. Gravity pulled it free, and they were falling again.

She could feel her heartbeat throbbing in her temples, black and empty. The assassin chose that moment to press his advantage. The sabrestaff thrust downwards, towards the couple sprawled behind her.

And that was how you killed Jedi.

So she threw all the strength she had into the parry, her weapons cold in her hands as they caught the sabrestaff. Sideways, she thought numbly in the brief instant before thought abandoned her again. The assassin had anticipated this and he was stronger than her. A grey haze was beginning to grip her mind. The sabrestaff still caught the boy in his side, filling the air with the sickly stench of burnt flesh. Her guard was down—she was out of position, blades rising as the sabrestaff’s hum reverberated through her.

There was the radiating heat of the sabrestaff, like a fire. There was a dark coolness, and she slipped into it.

* * *

Part 2: The Dark of a Flame

Kavar lit the candle and set it in front of her. She wrinkled her nose at the smell of burning wax.

Settling himself opposite her, he leaned forward and gazed at her levelly. “I want you to concentrate.”

“On the flame?” The flame leapt and danced as she gently manipulated minute air currents around it.

“Lotus position, Lei. Stop fidgeting. Now, let’s have a lesson in basic science. Look at the candle carefully. See how the flame is outlined by blue? That’s the hottest zone. Next is the yellow zone of combustion which produces soot and is the main reason why the Temple disapproves of candles.”

She grinned at him. “Sounds like you disagree.”

“Well, you have to admit that they do a lot for the ambience.” The soft candle light played over his strong features, throwing them into golden relief. “But no, too much pollution.”

She raised an eyebrow, daring him to continue.

“Mind yourself, Padawan.” He sounded utterly serious, but there was a wry twist to his lips. “I believe that you in particular would benefit from this lesson. Focus on the dark zone. Empty your thoughts of everything else.”

They sank into silence as she slid into meditation, breathing deep and slow as her muscles relaxed. She shut her eyes, the faint light of the candle playing across her eyelids. Abruptly, she opened an eye and stared at Kavar. “Let me guess, Vrook gave you a long and boring lecture about how this would lead them to the Dark Side?”

“He doesn’t like the word. Cut him some slack! You still receive secret training and so everyone’s happy. You can still fall and blame me, Vrook can have a field day crowing ‘I told you so!’, while I get to mope around about the loss of my favourite Padawan. Concentrate!”

When she was completely still, he spoke quietly. “In every flame, there is darkness. In it, you are untouched by the fire. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Then show me.”

And she fell into the velvety dark.

There is no emotion, there is peace.

* * *

Part 3: Impact

It was like a whiplash—the assassin snapped backwards, a fine line of blood welling from his midsection, visible through the neat tear in his dark clothing. She straightened up, and his sabrestaff arced through the air again as he screamed. She extended her hand, fingers splayed. The Force slammed into him, burning an image into his mind.

Behind the assassin, Revan deftly side-stepped, reversed his grip on his lightsaber and flicked it on. The assassin slid onto it with surprising ease. The lightsaber deactivated, and he slumped to the floor.

The other assassin perished within the space of a heartbeat, impaled upon a violet beam. In concert, they bent the Force to their wills, the lift’s walls heating up between the play of violently opposing forces. They were going too fast and there wasn’t enough time to…

She pulled up the swooning young woman roughly. Revan did the same with the couple, and they forced the civilians to stand with them. He threw his arms around her because he never wanted to lose her again and because he never wanted to have to let go and…

Their strength crystallized in a single instant, between the sharp shriek of crumpling metal and dull boom of impact.

He was checking her for injury, probing her mind and examining her limbs simultaneously. She shut him out, feeling a curious mix of anger and guilt. He stiffened when she closed into herself again, but did not move, still wrapping his arms around her shoulders, still resting his cheek against her own. She pulled away, turning her attention to the civilians.

“The bond…” he began.

“Yes.” She didn’t bother looking at him.

“I felt it…strongly.” To be precise, the bond’s rebirth felt like his heart had burst; scar tissue cleaving apart as old wounds reopened.

“I will explain. They need me now.”

He heard the gentle soft notes of healing, and further away, he sensed a discordant presence.

“Someone’s coming. I will go. Protect them.”

A very interesting addition, Bee! The battle was hectic, but short, and, to me, was a bit blurry (but that might just be me, and my reading too quickly :p). Nonetheless, very well done, I thought.

Bringing (back) the Revan-Exile Bond was a nice move. It could go either way, however, seeing as how (their) history is somewhat... rough.

At any rate, I enjoyed the chapter very much. Keep up the nice work.

Another chapter! wOOt!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :xp:

Very interesting, Bee! As Litofsky stated, the fight scene was a bit blurry, but the teaching scene was great!

PS: Can't wait to see how the Revan/Exile thing works out! I always thought they should get together! :xp:

The bond is interesting.
I'm intrigued as to how it will turn out in the long run.

The fight scene was a little bit short in my opinion but it was neatly executed nonetheless.

Another great chapter, Bee.

One thing though that got me ... and she held on held on held on because ......

Was the 'held on's' suposed to go for that long? My mind is warped at the moment from tiredness so I might just be reading it wrong but yeah, lol ... anyways ...
That's my 2cent :D

Late reply is late >.> Thanks for the comments <3

Litofsky, that is because I am fail at writing fight scenes :lol: I get bored after two paragraphs and want MOAR EMO FLUFF.

Endorenna, I'm still a little undecided. We'll see how it goes;o

Mr_BFA, I meant to italicise that but was too tired. It is fixed now. Sabre objected to it too, but I wrote it that way to emphasize it and obliquely denote the use of the Force. And because I am thick and like to repeat things sometimes.

Next chapter should be up over the weekend :)

Oh snap, a double post :lol:

Chapter 4: Rain

"Revan was power. It was like staring into the heart of the Force.”

Rastler watched the soldier pull a black stocking mask over his face, and as always, he was amazed by the transformation. Fear was faceless, nameless. Safety catches clicked off and the soldiers took up positions. It was hard to believe that anyone in the lift cab could have survived the fall. The soldiers were pulsing with adrenaline, their breaths coming short and sharp. The durasteel slowly bent out of the way, and he was impressed. The person was strong in the Force, and very good at shielding his presence. He had sensed only the faintest vibrations in the past few minutes.

A figure emerged from the smoking wreckage. He could have laughed when he saw who it was. The Force had a wonderful sense of symmetry. The man was empty-handed, but his lightsabers were at his belt, and he was quite possibly the most dangerous sentient in the galaxy.

The soldiers opened fire immediately, but Revan was already airborne. The Force rose in a storm around him and the soldiers were knocked off their feet by the time his own found solid ground. Revan’s eyes narrowed as he assessed the situation. Five of them, heavily armed. Guns that fired solid projectiles. He turned to the man directing them—shielded. His quarry or an underling, it was impossible to tell.

One thing about Jedi: they were very good at concentrating. The Force flared, searing into their minds. They collapsed, as did everyone within a hundred metre radius. He was already in the air by the time the first one hit the floor.

There was the echo…

The void.

The Force was being torn from him and he was helpless. An instant of agony, then she enfolded him.

No!

It was like an eclipse.

Revan tried to stop her, tried to make her stay hidden, stay safe. She pushed him away, and he heard the distant echo of a million screams. Vaguely, he was aware of his body hitting the ferrocrete floor with the crack of breaking bones. Something large spun through the air and he found the air currents from it strangely soothing. Twisted metal embedded itself in the ground where the Sith had been standing.

Lei.

“I’m here.” She rolled him over as gently as she could, but he gritted his teeth as the broken bones shifted. Her warm hand was on his cheek.

The crumpled lift door clanged as the Sith got to his feet. “You.”

She stood up slowly, and Revan struggled to heal his injuries.

Don’t. You’re a lousy healer and you know it.

“What’s the matter, Rastler? Can’t you remember my name?”

Cheap Nihilus rip-off.

What?

“W-What brings you here, general?” He had always been jumpy, but he hid it quite well now, despite the fact that he was trembling. The years seemed to have smoothened out his stutter.

“I’ll take that as a no. I’m heartbroken, Rastler. I thought we were friends.”

“F-friends?” His laughter was high and unnatural, spurting forth irregularly from his thin lips. He was trembling visibly by now, nerves humming with an emotion that she couldn’t put a name to. “I-if you like, I c-can call you m-mother.”

Something about the way he said it made her pause. Revan propped himself up on his elbows, keeping a firm grip on his lightsaber.

Careful.

“You made us at Malachor, after all. Y-you and him both.” Rastler’s grin was grotesquely wide, baring more gum than teeth. “M-mother and f-father. Aren’t you pr-proud of your children?”

“Enough, Rastler. Where’s Smapoec? You’re his little sycophant, after all.”

The mad gleam in his inflamed eyes seemed to fade. The man spat and his frothy spittle was stained brown. “Watch your tongue, general.”

“I’ll do that the next time I look in a mirror. What’s your new name, Rastler? Have you earned the title of Darth yet?” She lifted her chin slightly, and a patronizing tone crept into her voice. “It’s okay if you haven’t. I understand you and Smapoec well. Difficult, isn’t it?”

“Very funny. I’ll make it quick, general. After all, I owe you that much.” His lips peeled back from his teeth in a snarl. He remembered her stumbling over her words as she struggled to reassure them, all the ones who followed her blindly. He was not afraid of her.

Not at all afraid.

She was standing perfectly straight, so still that she could have been a statue. Time had not touched her; she still looked youthful, almost girlish. Yet the lack of expression on her face was…unnerving. He drew an unsteady breath and he was back on the fields of Xoxin, flames leaping around them, flecks of ash falling softly. She reached up to rub her eyes, smearing soot across her face.

He tore open the wound, crying out as he did. He wanted to make her see just what she had done to them all. Distantly, he felt Revan recoiling from the wound. Again, something came between them and he sank to his knees, feeling the emptiness inside clawing at him, screaming to be satiated. The darkness rimmed with light was scorched into his mind.

Her words were slow and deliberate. “It’s not too late. Turn and walk away. Forget the Sith. Forget the wound.”

They seemed to move simultaneously. In mid-air, lightsabers snapped to life and clashed. She landed lightly, but he catapulted backwards into the far wall. Before he could recover, he was already being flung to the ground. His limbs splayed forcefully, and he attempted to fight it before his limbs stopped responding, numb but for an unpleasant tingling arcing through every nerve. Her lightsaber ignited a mere milimetre away from his neck, silvery heat flushing the pale skin.

“Talk.”

“Jedi don’t kill their prisoners.”

“No. But there are worse things than death. You let your apprentices attack us, hoping that they would weaken us so that you could take us down. You will not receive mercy from me. There will only be the truth—of what you have done, and of what you have become. If you don’t talk or if you lie to me, I will tear the information from your mind and I will show you the truth. And if you survive it, I will not give you the relief of death. You will live knowing this, and you will never be able to end your own miserable life, because you will see that you cannot.”

Lei. Don’t do this. Don’t go down my path.

“Who’s working with you?”

There was no response, and then a whimper as clarity cut through Rastler.

Lei.

She was at his side in a heartbeat, casting about for anything he could use as a crutch.

We’ve got to get out. I don’t know if you already know, but there are many. Not all are Force-sensitive. And he set the fleet on us.

Can’t take a tram—we’ll be sitting ducks. We need to get a speeder.

Your ankle. I need time to heal it.

He slung his arm around her shoulders and she helped him up. They made their painful way to cover, Revan collapsing into a small nook behind a convenient pillar. She concentrated on his ankle, and he amused himself by pulling a commando’s weapons towards him and picking through them.

The entire glass faзade of the building shattered, hardly hindering the military vehicle which drove right through. He reached over and pulled her into cover a second before it happened, once again using his body to shield her. She couldn’t help the way her heart leapt, and she was annoyed at herself for it.

I thought you secured the area.

Funny, I thought so too. Nice airspeeder though.

Right. Don’t move, but feel free to take them out.

The commandos were already clambering out of the vehicle when Revan unleashed the Force on their minds. She silently noted that it was a dirty tactic, and he shrugged. Supported by her on one side and with some careful use of the Force, they stood up and began half-hopping towards the speeder. In the face of overwhelming odds, he wasn’t about to discard any of the tools at his disposal. He hadn’t survived alone for six years by being stupid. Besides, it was better than killing them. She snorted and he knew he had made his point. She pulled herself up gracefully and offered him a slender hand.

A minute later, she was sinking into meditation, sorting through the fractured bones as he drove. Revan’s face was grim, eyes narrowed as he steered the speeder through the insane traffic. He was weaving crazily, swinging across multiple lanes and scraping between other speeders, but at best, he was on par with everyone else. This planet really needed sterner traffic cops.

“Heads up.” She sounded eerily calm, despite the distant roar of ships. “I wouldn’t worry too much. This place is full of civilians. If they use the fleet’s firepower on us, they’ll take out half the city.”

“You can never tell with the Sith. We should get off world, but it’s going to be a problem.” He braced himself as she tested his ankle’s range of moment, and then ordered him to roll it. He complied gingerly, but was not surprised that there wasn’t any more pain.

She was looking skywards, and he felt the sudden lurch of her stomach. “Revan, get out of the city bounds! They’re going do it.”

“Take the controls!”

There was a confused moment as they exchanged places in the cramped cabin. She grabbed the controls and sent them swooping upwards and outwards. Revan swore, nearly falling out of his seat when the safety webbing mechanism jammed.

“Plasma bombs. One hit and we’re gone. Excellent work showing them where we are.”

“Shut up.” To accentuate her point, she yanked sharply on the yoke and the speeder banked hard to the right. She clicked her tongue. “And now they aren’t going to bomb us to oblivion. Yet.”

“Head north—there’s a spaceport approximately twenty kilometres away.”

“And then what? Hijack a ship?”

“Something like that, yes.” He smiled as her disapproval washed over him. She always had been overly concerned with these…technicalities. Which was ironic, considering how the truth was the cruelest teacher of all, and that was what she had struck Rastler with.

He watched her drive, watching every gesture and every fleeting expression which crossed her face. She still tapped her foot incessantly, still pursed her lips in exactly the same way. Her cheeks had lost their childish roundness, but otherwise she looked exactly the same. Yet she seemed so cold when she had dealt with Rastler, no longer the trembling girl who had activated the mass shadow generator. No longer the one who had wept for Eres III, or for Dxun, or for every life ravaged by war. After all, she was just one more of those she would have once mourned.

Or was she? Maybe this was just what justice was—to make you understand the effect or your every action. She was doing nothing that she had not experienced herself; to stare down the demons that rise in your footsteps and to let their claws dig into you, claiming flesh and blood as was owed. If you weren’t strong enough, the pound of flesh that they removed might contain your heart…

But there are those who are mad, who know exactly what they are and cherish their violent insanity, polishing it carefully and occasionally letting it glimmer in the light of day. Some had nothing but that varnished veneer of madness, and she wondered what would happen if she cut through those incomplete minds.

Revan reached over and squeezed her shoulder. She turned to look at him, and for a moment, he saw her again, the grieving girl who was so alone.

“It’s going to rain,” she said abruptly.

“Yeah.”

“I like rain.”

“I know,” he stated quietly. Only if you’re indoors, and you’re curled up somewhere warm, or you can watch rainwater streaming down the plexiglass…

And there was something infinitely sad about the way that the Force was pulling them together and it hurt, it gripped her chest and refused to let her breathe because every old memory that he reawakened was grey-washed with pain.

He had already unhooked the safety webbing, and again they tangled as they sought to change places for the second time. He smelled warm, she thought. Dazed and unhappy, she hugged her knees.

“I like rain,” she whispered to herself.