Disclaimer: The Following is a non-profit fan-based fanfiction. "Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic" 1 and 2 is copyrighted to LucasArts, George Lucas, the Bioware Corporation, and Electronic Arts. If you choose to, please support the official release.
A/N 1: Whole sections in Italics represent flashbacks. Certain quotes in Italics represent thoughts. For a full understanding of this author's interpretation, it is suggested that "I, HK 47" "Juhani and Belaya" "Revan: Departure" and "Mira's Last Job" are all read before-hand. If you have concerns or objections about how canon this fanfiction is, please send all complaints and criticism concerning continuity through a Private Message. For the sake of quality control, I have disabled Anonymous Reviews.
Revan, the Exile and the End
Before the Champion of Kirkwall was found, before the survivor of Ostagar ended the Fifth Blight, before Caesar, conqueror of 86 tribes crossed the Colorado, before Master Li's student stepped outside his home of Two Rivers, there were two. Before the Reapers and the Orelsians, there were the Mandalorians. Before the encroaching shroud of the darkspawn and the looming threat of the Reapers, there was the Dark Side. Before the betrayal of Master Li, there was the fall of Darth Traya. Before the first human Spectre was named, before the Warden took his joining, before the Champion left Kirkwall, before the last Spirit Monk, there was Revan and the Jedi Exile. It is here, that their story comes to its end.
A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…
You gave me form and consciousness where none existed. I have known pain and love, hope and fear, all the joy that is life. Yet of all things, I desire nothing more than an end. I beg you maker, put an end to me... we beg you...
-Lady of the Brecilian Forest, Dragon Age: Origins.
"Nothing but new recruits, huh?" he said, leaning back against the wall. He master had often scolded him not to be so careless of things, but he couldn't help it. He had formed his own little circle and watched the new batch of younglings pour out into the courtyard. Occasionally, there would be a teenager there to be evaluated first, but mostly the children went and gazed silently around the courtyard.
"Wait…" He said, looking around. He swore he could've felt the presence of a master about, but they were all inside or on Coruscant. He gazed around, checking off the list of survivors due to familiarity. He continued to look around, only to find him, standing out in the crowd.
Fair brown hair with green eyes were not his distinguishing feature. Rather, it was the massive grin that was stitched onto his face that was a dead giveaway. In fact, he did not act at all like the other peaceful children, and instead ran around, gazing at everything he could see. He was astounded, dumbfounded and just plain in shock at what he was seeing.
To say the Force was strong with this one was like saying a Wookie were good warriors. Both were massive understatements.
"Do you see him?" His master spoke, as he looked back to acknowledge him.
"How can this be? I've seen countless students… it's like looking into the sun!"
"That is why you must not tell him. He has a destiny about him. It is important you not interfere. Shall we introduce ourselves?"
"Yes, Master." He said, still fixated on him the whole time.
"Apprentice!" The Master called out, as the energetic youngling came to him.
"Tell us your name."
"Revan, the greatest Jedi of them all!"
The student needed a quick prodding to remind him of his place.
"Maison Ardellian, padawan."
"Can't wait to finish off those Mandalorian sonovabitches once and for all!"
"If we take their helmets, maybe I can get a good selling price."
"Is it true a Mandalorian can resist a Jedi's mind tricks?"
"Quiet, grunts!" The General said, mentally exhausted from all the fighting. Ever since they had joined the fight, Revan's supporters had changed the war in their favor. However, it wasn't the spur of confidence nor the mass of men they had along with them. Even the General realized that the real contribution to the effort was in Revan's strategy. No doubt that because of his orders, the new army not only stood a fighting chance against the Mandalorians, they were wiping them across the galaxy. However, despite the good mood that had seeped through the ranks, the General couldn't help but fixate from their last battle.
He imagined things wouldn't be so chaotic on the ground, that, at most, it was a war mostly settled with Starships and Artillery. What naïve thinking. Soon, he found himself against a dozen Mandalorians and the only thing preventing the Republic soldiers pushing, was a narrow bridge filled with mines. He made the hard choice and told them to charge, killing a good number of them before getting victory. Even with the loss of life, he also felt an emptiness, that he had no time to ponder.
However, all that was changed. Suddenly, the privates were on their best behavior as the leader came into the room.
"Revan, sir!" He saluted, finding it ironic that a boy younger than him was leading an army.
"At ease. So… you're the infamous General I've heard so much about…"
"If I may say something, sir?" He asked, fearful of the repercussions.
With a slight nod, the General presumed.
"It was a major holding point, sir. Still, had I the option, I would've done it over again. If anyone should be blamed, it should be me."
"Blamed?" Revan repeated. "In any normal army, you'd be given a medal. Tell me, aren't a few lives worth saving the Republic?"
"Not today, sir. I'd be nothing without the loyalty and support of my men."
Revan took a moment to gaze at the General up and down. For some reason, the leader of the Jedi Rebels took a moment to examine him, as if analyzing some map on the battlefield. Finally, the cloaked figure spoke.
"You really believe that?"
"Without a doubt."
"Here's a bit of advice. Don't."
The clans had been scattered. Despite their leader's passion and fire, many of the brothers and sisters left the second calling. Despite showing the might of their power on Onderon and on the Ravager, they were not as strong as they once were. The Republic, despite their supposed gratitude, had went and assaulted them. They held Dxun, giving it to no beast or soldier of the republic. After years of assaults, and fighting, they fell apart due to a dying way. Glory in battle had not given them the promise that they wanted. They traded in that for sheer survival and easy living. Raiders went back to raiding. Bounty Hunters went back to their bounties. Many went back to their comfortable lives.
However, many remained by their leader's side, hoping for that glory to relive once again. For every 2 that left, one would always come back. Granted, it wasn't what he wanted in the end, but it was better than the worst-case scenario.
He slumped in his chair, making sure everything was up to speed and available for another assault. However, a familiar face (or rather mask, as many in the clan never removed their helmets) came up.
"What is it, Kex?" He said, in an odd feeling of dull anticipation.
"We investigated that wreckage that landed near here. We couldn't trace its ID signature but we didn't have to."
Kex, then took the probe from behind him and opened up a holographic image. The image itself was scrambled and blurry until for a few brief seconds, it showed a figure with a mask and a Sith cloak. Mandalore examined it for a while and looked at an old familiar friend.
"Should I prepare the troops, Mandalore?"
"Don't bother." He said. "This isn't the message that either of us were expecting."
"Either of us?"
"Leave, Kex. I need to watch this alone." The leader told him and Kex followed, At first, he was content on leaving it for a few days and just waiting for whatever message to pop up randomly, and them simply dismiss it. However, after several revelations and years of preparation, he knew it couldn't wait. With a heavy sigh, he activated the probe as it enlarged.
"Cand-derous. This is Re-re-revan! I'm reporting to you from-" A mess of static and scrambled images caused the Leader of the Mandalore to curse audibly, before coming to a portion that wasn't damaged beyond repair.
"I… never expected anything like this. Even, with all of my memories restored, this… this is something greater than all of us. An even if that large presence of the Force came, I fear I may have miscalculated. Canderous, this is a worst-case scenario message. If they come, you must be ready. But, if you reach the end of your days and nothing appears, do not become content! The Mandalorians must live and they must protect the Republic at all costs! Do not let the Mandalorians become just a memory!"
He watched with eager eyes, the blue holographic image flickering in front of his visor.
"And, if she asks. Tell her, I'm sorry."
It'd seemed harder to remember his face. For all the memories they had as children, the Exile couldn't recount one moment that adult Revan ever smiled. He'd wondered about this, for some time, as if Revan was burdened with something. Yet, despite or perhaps because of that, he felt no remorse for what he did.
Instinctively, he felt his fist clench tightly.
"There is no emotion, there is only peace…" He mentally thought to himself, attempting to calm his thoughts.
He had been in his meditations for the longest while, contemplating all the events that had passed. The Jedi barely broke these deep states, only for basic food and water. However, he could tell that journey had been a long one. Already, he had started running out of proper maintenance tools to keep the droids working. If he had to guess, perhaps six months at least had passed by. He wasn't sure what Revan would have in store for him, only that he wouldn't be caught off-guard again. Slowly, the monitor beeped. He went to it, and examined the uncharted planet below.
Far from the Galactic Core, it was unsurprising to find it dark and rather cold, reading from the scanners. It looked mostly cloudy and forest-ridden by the looks of it, with vicious animal life in sight. It reminded him of Dxun, oddly enough. However, the geography of the landscape concerned him less than the feel of the planet.
Already, premonitions were filling his mind. Korriban's corruption was nothing to his current position. The Dark Side had become so powerful, that he feared that his own anger would've consumed him whole. It teemed with life, and yet, he saw no natural life around. The kind of life that bred here would've only spread suffering. He set the ship down for a proper landing, and saw, in the distance, a cloaked figure with a mask.
"Your thoughts are disturbed, apprentice." An elderly voice spoke. Maison whipped around, realizing what he was hearing.
"No. Kreia? You're- you're dead!"
"Foolish apprentice. You of all people should know that there is no death."
He shook his head. "No Sith could abide by the Jedi Code."
"Have you learned nothing of our travels together? Stop distinguishing between Jedi and Sith. Here, what you perceive as 'Sith' before, is nothing for what you'll face now. Prepare yourself."
The Exile inhaled angrily, upset that Kreia, of all people, was there in his final calm moments. He collected himself, unsure what to expect. Then, he turned back, his anger sedated.
"Why did he fail?"
The Exile spoke clearly. "Atris said that every student you trained was a failure. How could 'he' fail?"
There was a silence in the room. At first, he believed his vision had faded. However, she spoke again.
"He was close. Had he not been attached, had he not brought along one who he had entrusted, blinding him, he would've succeeded."
The Exile understood these words. After confirming that the atmosphere was breathable, he opened up the loading ramp and exited. What had been 10 years, he was finally reunited with the Dark Lord of the Sith.
The figure acknowledged him, and watched for his mask to detach. As it rose up, the General was astonished once more. Piercing green eyes with fair combed back hair stared back on him. The figure did not where a beaming smile, but rather a subtle grin, as if to remind the Exile to be at ease.
"Revan…" He said, his breath lost to disbelief. What had been only imaginings had finally come to fruition. For once, he was at a loss for words.
"General." His voice was calm, clear and distinguished. It was the voice that commanded many, and yet, had the intimacy to learn of others.
The Exile paused in silence. After years had passed between the two of them, what was there to say? What was there to do? He was sure had gone over this scenario a dozen times over, but now his mind was completely blank. His mind was riddled with emotions, questions, hidden thoughts and much more. He needed at least an hour to outline everything, to gain closure. However, just as he was about to speak up, the Prodigal Knight beat him to it.
"What did you do to my ship?"
"What?" He replied in disbelief.
"Don't 'what' me. Why does my ship look like it's been through some kind of graveyard and back?"
At first, the Exile was almost tempted to say that it 'had' been through a graveyard. However, he decided to keep the events of Malachor to himself and simply respond to the rather rude introduction he was given.
"First of all, I managed to get this ship fixed before I left to get here."
"Liar." Revan responded, looking at the damaged hull.
"Second of all, how is it your ship? Last time I checked, it belonged to several other people, not to mention a prominent member of the exchange, several spice runners and a rather unfortunate man I met on Nar Shaddaa."
"Because it had the best adventures with me." Revan said confidently. "I know machines; I can tell."
The Exile shook his head, not realizing he was so caught up in a petty squabble, he had forgotten his anxiety upon meeting him. However, just as he was about to ask him several important questions, Revan was determined to steer the conversation in other directions.
"Forget the ship, what did you do to my droid!" Revan said, nearly running when he saw T3-M4.
"Hey, buddy! How's it hanging?"
"Deep. Dreet-dee-deet. Dwoooo."
He turned to the Exile. "You couldn't find a replacement to his original vocabulator?"
"He was custom-built, remember? Besides the only one who knows the specifics is… gone."
"Right. Taris." He exhaled, and looked up. There, he met with a familiar assassin/protocol droid.
"HK! How have you been?" The Former Dark Lord asked.
"Statement: Quite well, Master! I had the distinct pleasure of converting mass produced versions of myself and turning them against their obsolete counter-parts."
There was a silence for a moment.
"Why am I not surprised?" Revan exclaimed.
"Response: Because you know me oh so very well, Master."
Revan finally took the time to notice the Exile and breathed.
"Well, you've certainly been busy."
"You know about what I've done?" Revan asked.
"Sure! I've have good hearing, especially that mess on Malachor. Noisy stuff."
"And what exactly as the great Dark Lord Revan, been up to for the last 5 years?"
He shrugged, uncharacteristic for the Prodigal Knight.
"Just building a rather impressive army."
The Exile looked around.
"Last time I checked, an army consisted more than 2 Exiles and some droids."
"Objection: Master, I must disagree! Even with several of my motor functions disabled, I am still able to-"
"Be quiet, you!" The Exile retorted, still unsettled.
"Well, let's get a move on, shall we?" Revan exclaimed running off ahead of the pack, before the Exile could catch up. Revan had reached several distances ahead of him, making it a while before the Exile could catch up. He felt it very reminiscent of his own adventures. Whenever he felt that much closer to him, the Prodigal Knight would be many distances away, unable to be reached.
However, with a rather unconventional use of the Force, he caught up Revan, trying to probe him.
"I think we should talk! There's a great deal for us to discuss!"
"What about?" Revan said, feigning ignorance.
"About? What else? The war, both wars, why you left, the purpose behind all of this. Just... listen to me!"
Revan stopped his run, kicking up blue dust before giving his ear to him.
"You... have a lot buried in, don't you?"
The Exile shook his head. "I just... need some closure."
"This planet emits the dark side around it. If you bury any secrets or grudges here, it's going to come out. Better to do it now, where I'm expecting it."
The General turned away.
"There is no passion, there is peace..."
"It's not going to help you here. This far out, rules go out the window. You have a problem, settle it right here."
"I... won't." The Exile said, almost pained while saying it.
"Do it, you Tarisian Noble panty-waist!"
The Exile whipped around and gave the hardest right hook he had in his life. After doing so, he panted heavily for a while, looking at the drip of blood coming out of Revan's mouth.
"You hit like a girl." Revan said, inciting another, stronger punch from the Exile.
There, the General mounted him, cocking his fist for another blow.
"I should kill you!"
"HK! Cease and Desist Master Protection Protocols! Passcode:B1-D2Bastila!" Revan yelled. The Exile turned around, seeing the droid's nearly powered shot lose its charge. He stared at Revan, unable to think straight. All of his anger was coming out, and he wasn't sure he could contain it. But, Revan stirred something that could not yield until properly stopped.
"You used me, you bastard!"
"You'll have to be more specific. I've been a bastard about a lot of things-"
The Exile screamed. "Shut up! Just shut up and be serious for once!"
Revan paused, allowing his attacker to breath for a few moments before continuing.
"You said, we had to fight the Mandalorians. That we had to break our oaths and Jedi training to stop the Mandalorians! But, now I hear, you planned the whole thing? That, you relied on Malachor to prepare yourself for another war? What was this all about Revan? Why did you lie to us?"
Revan nodded, before flipping the Exile over and pinning him down.
"Okay, first of all, the Mandalorians did have to be stopped. Listen! They weren't the true threat, but they were a threat. The first of many these animals planned. Secondly, I did use Malachor to prepare another war. But, I didn't plan on you pulling the trigger so early."
When the Exile seemed calm enough, Revan let him up.
"And thirdly, Malachor V was your fault. I was off planet; I didn't tell you to push the button and kill everyone. I gave you fair warning and you ignored it."
"So, you admit it! You admit lying to me, Bao-Dur, Atton and the rest of us!"
The Exile sputtered. "He's- that's not the point. You deceived us. What was this really about? Why go through a fake war just to war the Republic? I want your answer."
Revan paused and chuckled for a bit.
"This place, you can even feel the Dark side here, just standing around. Malak and I thought we could fight off whatever was out here, but first we had to 'convince' others to our cause. Those who survived Malachor were able to fight. With, the exception of you, of course."
"And the Jedi Corpses that fill Malachor. So, how did you go from that to warring against the Republic?"
Revan, sighed and sat on a rock, conveniently placed nearby.
"Things... didn't go according to plan. I lost my forces immediately. These Sith, the real Sith, fight like animals. No survival instinct, just... death to the enemy at any cost. By the time I reached the main palace, I was down to me and Malak. And... we couldn't do it. So, I had to make a bluff."
The Exile shook his head. "Everytime I hear this, I have to think you're insane. You warred on the Republic as some sort of mass... feint?"
"It was that or fail completely! I knew what he wanted, I knew what he was using. I thought... I thought I could've stopped it before it was too late. But... the Force had other plans."
"The Jedi trap and Malak's betrayal."
The Prodigal Knight sighed. "That bastard ruined everything! He decided to take my forces, take the Star Forge and simultaneously throw my plans into the gutter, destabilizes the Republic and forced me to destroy the artifact. By the time all of Revan... me, came back, the damage was done."
"So, why here? And more importantly, why me and no one else?"
"You're tougher than you look, General."
"I'll take that as a compliment…" The Exile sighed.
"More importantly, out of the many Jedi who either died or hung up their lightsaber after the war, you remained."
"You do realize that the reason for that was because I wasn't technically a Jedi."
Revan smirked. "But you re-established your connection to the Force and survived Sith Assassins. If there was anyone I could count on without worrying about, it's you."
"Just me? Not the Mandalorians, not the Republic, not the Jedi, just me?"
"Yep." Revan smirked.
"Not even her?" The Exile said. Normally, this would've granted a humorous back and forth between the two, but they both knew whom they were referring to. Revan gave a heavy sigh; the General knew beforehand that the separation of a Force Bond was difficult. But, to separate from someone you loved was simply… crippling.
"She's tough. Besides, if I went back now, she'd just yell at me. By the Force, she's going to be okay."
"So, you're not going back? You feel no obligation to return, at all?"
Revan smirked. "The mission's too important, General. I can't leave this unchecked. Not now."
"Will nothing cause you to turn back?"
"Name one thing I should consider turning my back on all of this for!" Revan demanded.
For once, the former Dark Lord literally paused at this. For once, the Exile had disarmed him.
"You have a daughter, Revan."
"Well…" he replied. "That's unfortunate. Always wanted a son."
Even at Revan's failed attempt at humor, the two understood how hard he was taking the news.
"Does anyone know?"
"Everyone knows. The question is whether to admit it or not."
He shook his head, smiling. "Let me guess. She has my eyes."
"Worse. That damned smile of yours."
The Exile observed Revan as he went through several stages instantaneously. First, there was the obvious sign of longing. Then, there was anger, shown in several paces back and forth. Then, there was the forced smile, attempting to laugh it off. Finally, Revan took several deep breaths and closed his eyes. The General heard of Revan being a master of composure, but this seemed rapid even for the former Dark Lord. At long last, Revan came back and nodded.
"You shouldn't have told me. I really have to make sure these Sith are gone before I go back."
"Is there anything remotely human in that shell of yours?" The Exile said. "I just told you about your child! You left the mother of your child, a Jedi no less, and choose to abandon her? You're sick. But, you know something? That isn't even cover the atmosphere of Coruscant."
Revan observed the Exile closely, as if coming towards his own resolution.
"For years, I hated you. No, it wasn't about the thousands you betrayed, or the millions you've killed. It wasn't about lying to all of us and doing your own selfish desires. Hell, it isn't even about you getting away scot-free out of all the pain and suffering you've caused just because of the Council's actions. It's reason enough, but that isn't it. You know what it is that truly makes me sick about you? That the mere thought of drives me mad with passion and causes me to go into a blind rage. You know why I traveled all the way past the Outer Rim to Force knows where just to tell you?"
Revan indulged him. "What?"
"You forgot!" The Exile exclaimed.
"I remembered eventually! It wasn't my fault the Council wiped away the memories of the Mandalorian-"
"Not the people! The Force!"
Revan became silent, unsure what he was referring too.
"What are you-"
"You never felt that loss, didn't you?" The Exile began. "You never felt it as the Force was ripped out of your body, and dragged yourself along, as some sort of… shell! Typical Revan. Forgot everything and becomes lucky to return to his former self."
Revan continued to watch as the General vented his frustration at him.
"After Malachor, I was... I was... I didn't know what I was. Broken wouldn't even cover it. I was just gone. Broken. But you! You simply walked it off, as if it were a flesh wound or a bad limp. You walked away from Malachor scot-free. Whereas I, continued to feel their loss for years. Being Exiled was nothing from losing everything. It isn't fair that you let millions die for your cause and not even recognize their loss of life through the Force!"
"You came all the way here just to say that? That's uncharacteristically whiny of you."
"And you didn't have to make light of everything!"
"So why did you come?" Revan asked.
"Because, this is right. What you're doing, what you're attempting to do will help all of us. I may not like you, Revan, to say the least."
"Thank the Force." He smirked.
"But what you do, what you're doing, I can make a real difference here."
"Then what are we waiting for?" The Prodigal Knight smirked.
"I, the Exile, swear myself to you, Lord Revan, until such a time that the threat is defeated, my body is defeated or you should turn on the Republic. Let it be known."
Revan bellowed, holding back on how serious the Exile was treating this.
"Let's get going, before I laugh myself to tears."
However, as they continued onward, the General stopped and looked back on the Ebon Hawk, and all the journeys it had been through.
"It's interesting, isn't it?" The Exile said to his new Commander.
"This feels like one massive tale, something driven by The Force but just to make legends."
"That's all we are, General." Revan said. "Characters in a tale driven by Unknown Forces to do a job. And years from now, when we're just eerie ghosts, people will continue to have their own stories, their own destinies and change the galaxy in their own small way. At least, that's how it should be."
The Exile nodded, realizing the importance.
"We'll be lucky if history gets its facts straight."
"Of course, my story will always be the best out of all of them." Revan smirked. "I mean, it is destined to age well after all!"
"What about my story? It was pretty good." The Exile smirked.
"Yeah, but from what I heard that ending left a lot to be desired."
"Who said it was an ending?" The Exile said, finally cracking a smile.
"Maybe, it was just a beginning."
Revan shrugged. "Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better."
"Now, shall we get back to the task at hand?" Revan smirked.
"Please don't say that."
"You know, General, you could use a sense of humor. It helps, you know. You coming, T3?"
"Statement: Master, I'd thought you'd never ask."
"Ready." He said, walking with Revan for his final mission.
And it so it had ended.
Revan and the Jedi Exile and reunited in order to confront a great evil
It is unclear whether or not Revan was 'successful' as it were on his final mission
Still, history had been written, and regardless on whoever held the galaxy
The Archives should never forget the contributions of Revan and The Exile
Of the Old Republic
(A/N: I know a lot of fans' faith of Bioware in general has been tested to say the least. With EA's acquirement of the company, many of us are scared, even afraid to try out this new game. A lot of us say that the Old Bioware doesn't exist and we should call it a day. But, I'm still going try the game. Regardless, or perhaps in spite of the fact, that it's been called an expensive WoW clone with a gimmick, I'm still intrigued enough to see what happens. It might not be the same as before, but as a diehard fan, I will continue to believe. At the very least, I owe Revan that much.
I chose September 2nd to release this fanfiction because I know a lot of Beta Keys have gone out today. And before my fiction is made null and void, at least I can give my two cents on how everything ended.
Until then, true believers,