And so we arrive at the last installment of my KOTOR 1 Trilogy. Expect some twists and turns throughout this whole story, as I will be pulling out all the punches in every chapter. I love these games with all of my heart and soul, and I hope that all of you have enjoyed the past two Fics that form a trilogy with the start of this story.
Again, this story will completely ignore both the Revan novel, and the MMO "The Old Republic". I. Hate. What. They. Have. Done. To. Everything. I hate how much they rewrote KOTOR II, which with the Cut Content taken into hand, was perfectly acceptable. I hate how they caused Revan and Bastila to never have that happy ending that everyone knows they deserve after everything they went through in both the game and the EU. I hate how they made it so that Revan was nothing more than a complete pawn in the Sith Emperor's hands after he was captured in the book.
IT MAKES ME SICK!
So, I did what any KOTOR fan would do. I reject their canon and accept my own. So, expect this fic to conflict with things from both of those TOR sources. I will perhaps incoporate things that I liked (Which isn't a lot), but otherwise, this is my own KOTOR canon. Also, since I couldn't fit the complete summary into the box for the story, here it is.
Summary: Months have passed since the redemption of Anarra Thrales, and the galaxy once again seems to be at a relative peace. Still, Revan's memories continue to return, with each new realization taking its toll upon him. He realizes that there's something lurking out in the Outer Rim, something that he encountered during the Mandalorian Wars. Something more powerful than anything he's ever encountered.
Bastila's twin children have already begun to show signs of being Force Sensitive, leading her to wonder if she should give them to one of the Masters of the Order for training, even if it means losing them forever. She herself is close to obtaining the rank of Master, as is her husband, though their trust in the Council is still shaken from previous events.
Anarra has somewhat adjusted to her new life on Coruscant, living in the shadows and surviving on various odd jobs. Her connection to the Force has in no way dimmed, although she has kept her use of it to a minimum, her mind still haunted by her experiences with the Dark Side. And yet, she realizes that soon, she will have to face the past, or continue to live in fear of the future…
Disclaimer: I do not own KOTOR or Star Wars. They belong to George Lucas and Bioware. Don't sue.
From where it sat on the landing pad, the Ebon Hawk was utterly silent as the moon's glow continued to rest upon it. Kashyyyk was unusually quiet, unusual in the fact that the only sounds present were that of the echoed callings of the planet's native creatures, some of them echoing up from the Shadowlands. Inside the ship however, the sounds of the outside world went unheard as Bastila and her two children continued to sleep somewhat peacefully inside one of the Hawk's dormitories.
Tilting her body slightly, Bastila could already tell that her husband was no longer in bed, the slightly cold feeling of the sheets only aiding in the realization. Opening her eyes, she scanned the room, her vision failing to find him within the room. Returning to her feet, she wrapped some of the loose sheets around her body, her long hair falling down across her back. She had considered getting it cut for some time now, but for some odd reason, she had yet to go through with it.
Vaner and Kera were sleeping peacefully in their crib, and as she passed them, Bastila smiled. Their minds were relatively calm as she felt them through the Force, her mere presence in in their minds calming them even further. Giving them one last smile, she turned away from them, and walked out into the main hold of the Hawk, which was quiet as the rest of the ship. Her eyes turning towards the garage, she noticed out of the corner of her eyes the light of sparks emanating from the garage.
He was there, his bare chest uncovered as he continued to work on T3's circuits, the arc wielder spreading a wide, steady spray of sparks across the floor. She watched him for a few more moments before she let him sense her presence through their bond. Removing the wielder from the exposed circuits, he looked up at her, silent as his eyes traveled up and down her body.
"More memories?" She asked, knowing the question all too well by now. Returning to his feet, Revan stood there, unsure of what to say. Over the past two months, the majority of his memories had returned, causing him hundreds of sleepless night, the hauntings carrying over into the day. He had tried to shrug them off, but with each passing night, the memories got worse, each individual one appearing to him in the form of a nightmare, or something even more hellish than that.
"Yeah." Was his response, just as it always was. As much as she hated to see him this way, she realized that there was barely anything she could do other than to try and comfort him. Just as she had done for the past year. Using their bond, she tried to view the memory, seeing it as he had saw it, but she was met with a 'wall, one that he had put up, one that she couldn't pass.
"Revan…" She started before he interrupted her, his voice lacking its normal tone.
"I don't want you to see it."
"You can't keep this to yourself, don't shut me out." He shook his head in response.
"Bastila, they're worse than anything you can possibly imagine. They're enough to make me want to have my mind erased again."
"After all we've seen and been through, I think I can handle it." She replied, once again probing his mind for a way around the 'wall'. As she continued, the barrier slowly evaporated, allowing her entrance to his thoughts. Going deeper into his mind, she found the memory that he seemed so desperate to hide from her. The memory itself was faded, most of the voices contained in it being jagged and dropping out at random, forcing her to try and piece the conversations back together.
He continued to stand on the bridge of one of the various vessels underneath his command. Ahead of him, the stars stretched out in an endless direction. Behind him, the common soldiers continued to go about their work, obviously in fear of the Dark Lord standing only a few feet away from them. Otherwise, all was silent through the room, with not even the sound of someone breathing audible.
Suddenly ahead of the main fleet, the distinctive sight of ships dropping out of hyperspace appeared, their main guns already beginning to fire upon his fleet. Behind him, the bridge erupted into a mass of confusion, with each man rushing to their battle stations, the other vessels without a doubt doing the same. Observing the scene, Revan was still silent, offering no command or battle plan as of yet.
"Orders, my lord?" One of the officers asked, taking a few steps back as Revan turned to face him.
"Take no action."
"My…my lord? But the ships have already opened fire on us, shouldn't we return fire, at least in self-defense?" Revan was silent as he looked at the young man, his eyes narrowing beneath his hood. He hadn't worn the Mandalorian mask that usually adorned his face, but it in no way deterred his presence. In front of him, the young man had a look of fear plastered over his face, his lungs not even breathing.
"My orders stand. Do NOT return fire."
"I…yes my lord." He said, retreating back to his station. Turning back to face the scene outside, Revan watched as the ships continued to come closer, their shots flying harmlessly overhead.
The scene then changed to that of a later date, showing Revan standing before what could be made out as some sort of a throne. Something similar to steam or smoke surrounded the entire room, causing the red lights on the floor to seem even more menacing then they would usually appear to be. A certain feeling hung in the air, shrouding everything in Darkness. As the throne slowly turned to face him, Revan ignited his saber, the blue color contrasting with his surroundings. His face was still hidden from behind the iconic Mandalorian mask that he worn towards the end of the Mandalorian Wars, and during the beginning of his assault against the Republic. Still, Bastila could feel the emotions coursing through the younger man. What she felt was something that would have easily betrayed the public's view of the Jedi during the Wars.
She felt fear. Nothing but fear controlling him.
"Young Jedi…" The man on the throne began to say before the scene began to fade to black, forcing Bastila's mind out of the memory and back into the present.
"What happened?" She asked, but not before silence had ruled the room for more than a minute. Looking back at her, Revan's eyes were unlike anything she had ever seen from the man. It was the look of fear that she had seen on some of the veterans of both wars, men and women that had been utterly broken by the horrors they had been forced to witness.
"The thing that was out there, beyond the Rim, the thing that corrupted myself and Malak, that was it. Even though it was memory, I could feel the power of the Dark Side coursing through him, his presence alone nearly overwhelming me."
"Who was it?"
"A Sith. Not just the ones that we've been dealing with, but like the one that possessed Anarra. A True Sith, a species that's very existence is in the Dark Side. They know things that we could never even possibly imagine."
"And he corrupted you." Bastila replied, taking a few steps towards Revan and gazing into his eyes. "Forced you against the very thing you swore to protect. The very thing you went to War to save."
"I can't explain how it felt. It was like having the Galaxy opened up to your mind, to be able to see everything for what it really was." Revan answered, resting his hands on his wife's shoulders.
"It was seeing both sides of the Force."
Space. The black mass stretched out forever in every direction. Behind her, Centari Val could feel the energies of the ship's personnel as they worked on keeping the ship on its correct course. The ship itself was only a few years old, and they were still trying to break it in. Well, this should be quite adequate she thought to herself. They had gone far out beyond their Empire's reach. Behind her, she could hear the door to the bridge open, and another dark presence entered the room. It silently approached her, Centari's only warning that the presence was there was through the Force.
"What is it?" she said, not even bothering to face whoever had dared disturb her meditation.
"Lady Val, there are still no signs of the Jedi freighter. Surely it made the hyperspace jump blind, and was destroyed when it crashed into an asteroid." Vorteck answered, bowing slightly as he finished his sentence.
"No Vorteck, they are indeed alive. Trust the Force." The answer sent a wave of resentment through him, she could sense it. He had always distrusted her, from the day she had taken command of the Tulak Hord, his ship. Sighing, he muttered something underneath his breath. Opening her eyes, Centari turned to face him, her cloak twirling behind her.
"What was that? I don't think I heard you right." She could see him look away, not wanting to look into her eyes. The same eyes that hundreds had looked into in their last moments. He resented her, and yet, he feared her.
"Never mumble in my presence again, or it will be the last choice you ever make." As she focused her rage onto him, she felt small pangs of pain on her face, where her new tattoos were still slowly becoming accustomed to her skin.
"Yes, m'lady." He said, his head pointed down towards the floor. She wouldn't let him escape from her that easily.
"Look at me, Vorteck." She commanded, pulling back her tunic's hood. "Look into my eyes and say that." He slowly raised his head, his eyes stopping on her chest, and then he refused to go any higher.
"Vorteck, LOOK at me! I will not ask again." Her hand fell to her saber, informing him that she was not toying with him. This time, he raised his head to its full height, meeting her eye to eye. She felt repulsion emanate from him. She was truly enjoying watching him squirm.
"Now, what was that you said?" she said, using the Force to immobilize his body, literally forcing him to continue to look directly into her yellow eyes despite any other action the man wanted to take.
"I…I…" he stuttered, trying to force his legs to move. Centari crossed her arms, obviously annoyed.
"What's the matter? Gizka got your tongue?"
"I was remarking that…that it was foolish for us to follow such an insignificant freighter." Silence adorned the room. None of the common soldiers dared to even breath. Slowly a smile began to appear on Centari's face, following by a few bursts of laughter. The soldiers closest to her moved away. They had a vague idea of what was going to happen next.
"Is that so? Well, let's just turn the ship around then, if you're so sure that this mission is so insignificant." Almost as soon as her sentence was finished, Vorteck felt his throat gripped by an invisible hand. The air was rapidly escaping from his lungs.
"But then again, who is in command here Vorteck?" Centari said, not even bating an eyelash as Vorteck was slowly being choking to death. She sighed at the lack of response, and tightened her grip.
"WHO IS IN COMMAND HERE?" she screamed at him, making sure that he had completely heard the question.
"y-y-y-you!" Vorteck managed to spit out. Satisfied with the answer, Centari released her mental grip on Vorteck. He collapsed to the floor, his lungs screaming for air. Such a weakling Centari thought to herself as she pulled her hood back over her gleaming blonde hair. She gave him another short glance and then turned back to her viewport.
"Get off of my bridge." She said. Slowly, she heard him walk back towards the door. Closing her eyes again, she let her mind drift away yet again.