Author's Note: Good day everyone! And thank you for taking the time to take a look at The Legend Reborn. This is my first work, so I request that you keep an open mind, and just try to bear with me as the story grows, and my skills develop as well. But, I hope you all enjoy the first Chapter!

Dantooine - Khoonda Plains

Dantooine. A planet that once was one of the most important locations to the Jedi Order. Now it was nearly forgotten. The planet was sparsely populated. No one noticed as a tornado of pure force energy appeared and dissipated as quickly it had formed. It revealed a man on his knees in the field. He pulled the mandalorian mask from his face.

Revan. Hero, traitor, conqueror, villain, savior. He was all these things and much more. He was the man who drove the mandalorians back and saved the republic, he was the man who brought the Republic to its knees, leaving it on the verge of collapse, and had then saved it. After a few moments, he began to regain some semblance of what was happening.

"What happened? I... I was on the Foundry. I wasn't strong enough, I had to escape. I... I failed, there's nothing to stop them now. I'm sorry, Gonar. I couldn't finish what we started, what Malak and I started."

Revan began to look around. "Dantooine. I should try and find the Enclave."

After two or three hours, Revan found what he was looking for. He approached the familiar structure, and a sense of surprise took hold of him. The last time he had seen the Enclave, it had been destroyed by the Sith Orbital Bombardment. Now it was not only repaired, it appeared as though it hadn't been used in millennia. Revan expected that if it was repaired, it would be full of Jedi, however it was abandoned. He entered the Enclave and the familiar corridors and rooms reminded him of a simpler time.

Revan approached the training grounds, and memories began to overtake him. Although he had reclaimed the last of his missing mind when he found his mask, this was more than his subconscious at work. This was the Will of the Force. He watched as he saw a younger and more naive Revan retraining to be a Jedi. Revan's thoughts turned to Bastila. He began thinking of their son, Vaner. And how he would never see them again because of the Sith Emperor.

Revan could feel his anger and hatred growing. But Revan did not care, he had mastered both the light and the dark side of the Force. A small anger spike would not be the end of him.

"There is no emotion; there is peace."

He continued searching the enclave, descending into the sublevel and wandering through halls towards the Archives.

"Here we are." Revan approached the holoterminal and began looking through it's data.

"That can't be right." Revan stared at the display monitor, puzzled by what he was seeing. According to the galactic time stamp, it had been approximately 3,621 years since his failure at the Foundry. According to the event archives. The strike team that had freed him from the Maelstrom Prison had left the Empire on the verge of collapse through their combined efforts. Yet it was strange, the Sith Empire had fallen. But the presence of the dark side felt even stronger, and it was steadily growing. Revan began to ponder what could have possibly caused this. Then he realized.

When he escaped the Foundry, Revan used a technique known as Fold Space, he had never done so before, however the Archives stated that use of Fold Space could not only act as a teleporter, it could also act as a method of time travel.

"I need to get off of this planet, get to Coruscant." Revan continued exploring the Enclave, until he came across the garage. The door slid open, revealing dozens of swoop bikes. "Perfect" Revan mounted the nearest Swoop and thankfully, despite being out of use for almost 4,000 years, it started immediately. Revan opened the outer door, and took off at full speed. The sun was rising, but by the time Revan found a settlement, he hoped it would be dark. Night usually meant a busy cantina, which were full of smugglers. Usually weak-minded smugglers.

After a few hours, Revan noticed an alert flashing on the swoop's dashboard. Despite still being in working condition, the power cell had continued to drain, and it would soon reach critical levels. Revan silently cursed himself for not paying attention to this when he left the enclave. There wasn't enough power to make it back, so he had to find either a settlement, or at least a farmer soon.

His gaze drifted along the horizon in an attempt to focus on the small cluster of lights in the distance. Revan could see a small town over the hill, he put all power into the thrusters, and approached the cantina. He entered unnoticed, and approached the bartender. If anyone knew a good smuggler, it was usually the bartender, no matter where it was. Revan sat down at the bar. The nemoidian bartender approached him.

"What'll it be?"

"Corellian Ale, please."

"Alright something simple." The bartender returned a few moments later with his drink.

The bartender pulled a rank from under the bar and began wiping the counter, "A Jedi? We don't see much of your kind around here anymore."

"How do you know I'm a Jedi?" Revan inquired

"You expect to walk into my cantina wearing Jedi robes, and one of those on to your belt." The bartender pointed at Revan's belt. "And you don't expect anyone to figure out you're a Jedi? You're lucky you walked into my cantina, this is probably the only place on the planet that would serve your kind."

"Well if that's the case. I would appreciate it if you would keep that quiet," Revan lowered his voice to a whisper, "from what you say, Jedi don't seem to be liked around here all that much."

"Yes, it's the unfortunate truth, and a wise request. I met a Jedi once, he saved my life. Oh, what was his name... Obi-Wan! Yes that's it, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Do you know him?"

"I'm afraid I don't, I'll have to look into it though, he sounds like a good man." he lifted the glass to his lips, taking a large swig of the ale.

"Ah, so what's a Jedi doing all the way out here on Dantooine, anyway? I thought you'd be busy with your war."

"War? What war?"

"You know, the Clone War? The war between the Republic and the Confederacy of Independent Systems?"

I'm afraid I've been... out of touch with galactic events. I've spent most of my life exploring the Outer Rim, learning what lies beyond the Republic. Could you bring me up to speed on what I've missed?"

"Sure, there isn't much to do here, though I should warn you that I'm not much of a story teller." The bartender went on to explain the Clone Wars, what caused it and as much as he knew about the C.I.S. After a few hours, Revan was still very confused. From a Jedi's viewpoint, as well as a citizen of the Republic, the war made no sense whatsoever. The society that he had so readily fought, and been willing to die for always allowed for the freedom of allowing their citizens to choose.

"But, who fired the first shot? Was it the Republic, or the Confederacy? Furthermore, where did the army come from? The Republic has been demilitarized since the Ruusan Reformation Act." Revan inquired, he had to play the part if he was going to be convincing. Not only that, but any further information he could learn could still prove useful.

"I'm honestly not sure, officially it was the Confederacy when they had scheduled the public execution of two Jedi and a Senator on Geonosis... at least I think it was Geonosis. And the army? Well, I'm not too sure about that one either, the Chancellor wasn't granted Executive Powers until, I think either the day before, or the day of the Battle of Geonosis. I heard that the Republic has had the army for a long time now, they were simply keeping it secret to keep the Senators happy."

Revan sat in his chair, staring at the small bit of ale left in his glass as he tried to make sense of everything. But he just couldn't, at least not until he visited the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. Maybe things would click into place there.

"Forgive me for not having asked this sooner, but, what might your name be?" Revan asked, feeling very awkward as he did so.

The bartender smiled, "Zeego. Zeego Vimrk. And your name, Master...?"

Revan froze for a second, he couldn't use his real name. "Jaco. Jaco Reglian"

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Jedi Master Reglian

"Well, Zeego. I'm afraid I'm in a tight position. I've been relying on public shuttles for my transportation and I'm afraid I've run out of credits. Would you be willing to give a lift to Coruscant? I can pay you handsomely when we arrive"

:We can leave for Coruscant tonight, after I close up the cantina"

"Whenever you're ready, Zeego." Revan was pleased to know that using the name the Jedi Council had programmed into his mind was still useful. He still despised the Council for doing such a thing. How dare they commit such an atrocity?! If Revan was still a Sith Lord, he would have punished them severely for what they did.

Revan began scanning the Cantina, it was still early in the day, and he would need something to keep him busy until Zeego closed the cantina. After a few minutes he located the gambling area. It contained Sabacc, Dejarik, and Pazaak. Under Mission's teaching, Revan had become very knowledgeable about Pazaak.

"Hey, Zeego? Can you spare a few credits? I wanna play some pazaak to keep me busy." Revan gave a gentle nudge with the Force. He expected Zeego to be too strong-willed for a Jedi Mind Trick. Instead he gave gentle nudge, trying to make his words seem more persuasive to the Neimoidian.

"Sure..." Zeego replied hesitantly, "here's 50 credits."

"Thanks. I'll pay you back."

"Don't worry about it. I doubt you'll have that very long. Those are some of the best pazaak players in the Outer Rim."

"Really? Well this should be fun, I'm pretty good at pazaak." Revan unclipped the lightsaber from his belt. "Can you keep this somewhere safe until we leave? I'd rather remain inconspicuous."

"That's no problem." Zeego took the lightsaber from Revan and walked off into the backroom.

Revan finished his drink, and approached the pazaak table.

"Good day, gentlemen. Mind if I join you for a game?"

The man across the table looked Revan.

"Not at all. Sit down. We were just about to start a new game." Revan sat down and pulled out his deck, he had used it ever since he left Taris; before all this crazy shit happened. Sometimes he wished he could go back to that simple life. Performing scouting runs for the Republic on frontier worlds. He pushed those thoughts from his mind, and focused on the game. Pazaak was a fairly simple game; you just had to make sure you were paying attention. The goal was to reach a total of twenty or rather as close as you could get without going over twenty with the sum of all your cards on the board. A player could choose to stand at any time, the closer they were to twenty the better. A player was required to win three hands in order to win the game. Revan enjoyed pazaak because it was truly a game of chance. There was no possible way, at least none that he knew of where victory would be influenced by his Jedi capabilities.

The Duros to Revan's right spoke up from under the wide brim of his hat.

"Alright, everyone place your bets. I throw down 15 credits."

"10 credits"

"18 credits"

Revan looked at his quick draw cards before making his decision. "20 credits"

The Duros spoke up again. "Alright, all bets are in. May the best player win."

The weequay player raised his voice "Believe me Bane, I intend to."

"Yeah, well we'll see about that, Hondo, I for one have no intention of going home empty handed."

"Will you two shut up? I'd like to focus on beating your shebs at pazaak, not listen to you argue."

The other players remained quiet for the rest of the game. Revan was enjoying himself, he won some hands, he lost some. He lost some games, he won some. Players left after they were cleaned out of credits, but they were replaced fairly quickly. Revan was on a winning streak at this point, having won the past 6 games, he was now carrying a grand total of 500 credits. He decided that this would be his last game. All players placed their bets, and began playing their cards. After five hands, Revan was the only one who hadn't won a hand, the duros player, Revan recalled his name being Bane had won two hands, therefore he needed only one more to win. Revan wasn't feeling good about this game, but he kept playing. He drew a 10 and placed it on the board, giving him an even 20. He won that hand, then the next one, and a third one. Revan had played what Gonar had called a Pure Pazaak, and had just doubled his winnings.

"Well, that was fun, but I think I'm done now, good game everyone, until next time." Bane was fuming at the fact that he had lost to this upstart, he began to stand up. Hondo motioned for him to sit down.

"Sit down, Bane! He's not worth getting thrown out of the cantina, besides. You still won more credits than you lost."

"I suppose you're right, he can walk away this time."

Revan began counting his credits as he returned to the bar. A grand total of 1,000 credits. Not his best night. As Revan was walking toward the bar, Zeego spoke up.

"Alright, everyone! It's getting late, I'm closing up a little early tonight! Everybody out!"

Revan watched as the disappointed patrons cleared out of the bar, he noticed that many of the pazaak players gave him threatening looks as they left, as well as Bane carrying a drunken Hondo out of the bar as he sang an old Mandalorian chant.

"Now then, if you would please follow me, Master Reglian." Zeego said as he motioned Revan toward the back room.

Revan followed quickly, as he entered the back room, he saw Zeego descending toward the cellar. Revan was confused, they should be leaving for the spaceport, not getting a bottle of juma juice. Revan descended the stairs only to see Zeego inserting new power cells into a pair of blaster pistols.

"Expecting trouble?"

"Smuggling rule number one: Always carry a good blaster with you, I almost forgot, catch!" Zeego stated before throwing Revan's lightsaber to him. Revan caught it easily by guiding it through the force.

Revan raised a brow, "So, you mean to tell me you're a Smuggler?"

Zeego hesitated, "Well, I guess the nerf is out of the sack, yeah. I'm a Smuggler. Born and raised on Cato Neimoidia, yet I seemed to lack the innate desire to sit behind a desk and talk about money with a bunch stick-head Muuns day-after-day."

"Well, I won't hold it against you. I did a bit of smuggling when I was younger. Wasn't the best idea I've ever had, but of course I still did it." Revan inspected the hilt before clipping it to his belt.

"I never understood why Jedi rely on lightsabers. If you ask me, folky religions and ancient weapons are no match for a good blaster at your side."

"If that's how you feel, but there's more to the lightsaber than meets the eye."

"Whatever you say. The ship is in the spaceport, follow me."

"Lead on."

Author's Note: And so Revan's tale has begun anew. Chapter 2 is well on its way to completion and should be up soon! Until next time.