Chapter Text
Life was an endless stream of things that he wasn’t certain how to face, resembling the debris of the once great Star Forge, orbiting over some distant planet whose location he couldn’t erase from his mind. He felt like debris most days too, the scattered remains of some supposedly once great speaker and tactician whose life did little more than revolve around the wishes of the Jedi Order, keen on what they considered to be his rehabilitation.
Whether or not he could truly be rehabilitated the way they wanted him to be remained to be seen, but he wasn’t hopeful.
Not because he didn’t think he wasn’t capable of getting better, per se. No, it was pretty kriffing obvious to everyone but the Jedi Council that he had improved a lot since he was running around the Galaxy crushing all opposition underneath his heel, probably laughing maniacally. There was no way he ever would have bothered to turn against Alek in the first place if he hadn’t valued Bastila’s beliefs and the life of every single Galactic citizen more than his own ego, after all.
But the Council didn’t see it that way.
Which was why he wondered if they were calling him to another veiled disciplinary hearing to account for some innocuous comment he probably had no memory of making. That seemed to be their modus operandi, the more he thought about it, judging him for holes in his memory, big or small… And really, his memory probably had more holes than substance at this point.
Striding down the hall, he ignored the inquisitive glances of the younglings as they swarmed about him, feeling like an exotic animal on display at the Corellian Zoo, and not for the first time. Everyone here knew who he was, on command of the Council itself, and though it had won him derision with the elder members of the Order, the children especially looked at him with admiration.
An admiration that he was wary of.
Taking a sharp left, Revan passed a row of windows lined with pillars, looking out over the pulsing city of Coruscant. He could feel the core of the life there, the heart of the Living Force, his attunement expanding every day since his revelation on the Leviathan. For a moment he paused, looking out at the veritable ocean of buildings surrounding the Jedi Temple, his mind drifting to the day of Alek’s funeral.
The light slipped through the buildings in the same way it had those months ago, though really it felt like years since that day. Raising his hand, he pressed his palm against the glass, feeling the cold winter air through it, watching the last pink-gold rays of light fade away through the streets and alleys of the vast city. The only thing he could think as he stared blankly at the skyline was how much he could empathize with whatever part of himself remembered longing for freedom from the rules and restraints the Jedi Order provided.
To Bastila, it was a comfort, but…
Bastila.
Revan turned around, his hand falling to his side as he became aware of Bastila’s presence, pressing against his mind as it always did when she grew near. She looked surprised to see him, pretty face slack, mouth hanging open ever so slightly, and against his better judgment he felt his lips twitch in response, unable to stop himself.
Stepping forward, he placed a single finger underneath her chin, closing her mouth. “That happy to see me?” he asked, feeling the heat radiating from her face for a moment before she stepped away.
“I wasn’t expecting you,” Bastila said in her typically frank manner, staring him directly in the eyes, though her face was still red. “Though perhaps I should have been. The only times the Jedi Council seems to summon me, it’s somehow involved with you.”
He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Is that a bad thing? It means you get to spend more time with me.”
Revan felt a wave of flattery waver between them, his smile gentling as he turned back towards the window, gratified in knowing that he’d guessed right. Funny how things had changed, how something he might have once said as a joke had somehow become a sincere expression of emotion that she somehow reciprocated… No matter how awkward things were between them, at least their relationship would never be based around fear and hesitation ever again.
“Yes,” Bastila said dryly as she came to stand beside him, “It’s your charming sense of humor. I’m afraid it always keeps me coming back.”
“Glad to know,” Revan said, glancing towards her from the corner of his eye. “They must think my sense of humor is going to be a bad influence on you.”
“I’m sure that’s exactly what they’re concerned about,” Bastila said, the barest hint of a smile touching her lips, “your sense of humor.”
He grinned, stepping away from the window, changing the subject before it strayed into more emotional territory… Something they could not afford in a building full of people with an empathic connection to the Living Force. He wouldn’t put her future here in danger, would not put her hopes at risk for his own selfish reasons… Because even if she indulged his flirting, it didn’t mean that she was ready to risk everything just to be with him.
“So you’ve been summoned as well?” he asked, motioning for her to follow as he continued his journey down the hallway. “It can’t be disciplinary, then. They may be cross with you, but they’d never scold me in front of you, lest they face our united front.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Bastila said, “Though in all honesty, I feel they scold me just as often as you now that we’ve returned from our mission.”
She did not need to speak for him to feel her uncertainty and regret, her emotions triggering a response in him that he briefly warred with… Though in vain. Revan knew she felt his response, the regret that came with the fear that he had somehow ‘ruined’ her, one he knew was irrational but still haunted him during his longest and most sleepless nights regardless. Carefully he reached out, his hand briefly touching her arm, static dancing across his fingers as he did so, just like it always seemed to.
For a moment he imagined the sparks between them, flying the way they had during that one moment in the Ebon Hawk… But quickly withdrew, knowing that the thoughts would be a burden to Bastila.
And a burden was something he never wanted to be to her.
“You’re strong willed,” he said, his hand falling uselessly back to his side, feeling heavy on his wrist. “The Jedi Council doesn’t like that in their chosen weapons. They prefer submissiveness, deference, all that stuff. It’s why they hated me the moment I stopped playing their games.”
Bastila’s brow furrowed deeply, her expression one he had seen on her face many times before when she was deep in thought. Turning his face away, he walked beside her down the hallway in silence, contenting himself with counting the number of padawan braids he saw as Jedi passed them silently on all sides, not nearly as vibrant as the younglings. What was it about Jedi that stole their senses of humor, he wondered? And why had he kept his when his life could be told in shifts between black and white, monster and savior, villain and hero?
“I don’t want to admit you’re right,” she said at last. “It would mean admitting that Malak was right about me, and that is… difficult to accept.”
He felt her eyes on him and turned his head to face her, staring down into her face, making sure to keep his expression neutral even as she continued speaking, “But I know you’re right, and that you would never lie to me. I’ve always known we were alike from the very day I met you.”
“Give yourself more credit, Bastila,” Revan said, painfully aware of the number of Jedi around them thinning, of the way the hall narrowed and the thick walls were replaced by windows on each side. “You’re much more sensible than I am, I mean… Look at you, actually trying.”
Surprise flashed across their Bond, though he didn’t have time to question her about it, the doors to the Council Chamber coming up on them all too soon. Immediately they both lapsed into silence, her form bathed in the soft peach light of twilight, chin held high and proud as it always was when she was about to face something she was afraid of.
He admired that in her but longed to comfort her anyway, his fingers itching with the desire… A desire he locked deep inside of him as he turned his head to face the large double doors, preparing himself for what was to come. It was just Vrook Lamar and the other High Robes. He’d dealt with them all before, after all, laughed in their faces before and chosen to define his own destiny.
It was a shame he didn’t remember any of it.
Twelve pairs of judgmental eyes stared at him in utter silence the moment he walked into the room, immediately leaving him with the nagging feeling that, while this may not be a scolding, it was still severe. He could feel how on edge Bastila had grown, too, her anxiety feeding back into him in a loop, forcing him to suppress two sets of feelings, rendering him grateful that he had so much experience pretending he was unaffected by his emotions.
Experience that was the only thing right now between him and those eyes shifting from judgment to anger.
“Welcome, young Jedi Shan,” Master Tokare said, nodding his faded moss green head, lantern eyes turning toward Revan, “Jedi Ollus.”
The name made him flinch visibly, a reminder of an entire life he’d lived before he’d been reborn in a womb of death and fire. He knew it hadn’t gone unnoticed, but right now he didn’t really give a damn, all things taken into equal consideration. He’d already expressed his discomfort at being called anything other than Revan, but… Well, for them, Revan was a reminder of their failure, and they would never acknowledge that Revan could be the man who had both ruined them and saved them. For them, he had to be Jorren Ollus the Jedi, or he could be nothing at all.
“Masters,” Bastila said, bowing, Revan mimicking her movements, “You’ve summoned us?”
“Indeed we have,” Master Tokare responded, eyes still trained on Revan, though he motioned with a single small hand for someone to join them in the center of the circle, “and for good reason. Allow me to reintroduce Admiral Dodanna. You met her at the Battle of Rakata Prime, as I’m sure you recall.”
“High Admiral Dodanna now,” said a dark haired woman that Revan realized he did recognize, mind flashing with memories of long ago battles like photon torpedoes exploding against a Star Destroyer’s hull. “It’s good to see you again, Supreme Commander Revan, though I suppose that’s not your title any longer.”
Supreme Commander.
The words slid into place, though they still felt alien, like the title couldn’t have ever belonged to him. He’d grown used to being Cass, and then he’d had to come to terms with the concept of Darth Revan, and the dust had only just settled in his mind from that revelation. There was no way he would have time to contend with or process all the other facets of Revan’s identity, let alone accept them in full.
“High Admiral,” he said, forcing the words. “It’s good to see you again. How goes the Sith clean up?”
“Funny that you should mention that, actually,” the High Admiral said, casting her eyes towards the Jedi Council. “I believe that’s what you’ve been called here to discuss.”
“Indeed it is,” Master Tokare said, bowing his head, Revan’s feeling of unease mutating into a sick feeling of anticipation. “The High Admiral approached us asking for Jedi assistance in routing the last of the Sith Forces. Given the circumstances behind what many are calling the Jedi Civil War, we felt it all too appropriate that we offer her our support.”
“And this involves Revan and myself?” Bastila asked, breaking her silence and stepping forward, staring into Master Tokare’s face with determination etched into her smooth features.
“Of course, Jedi Shan,” said a woman with Echani-pale hair and sharp features from her seat off toward one side of the Council Chamber, a woman eerily familiar to Revan. “Revan has much to make up for, as you well know. You would hardly be the first young woman he’s dragged towards the Dark Side, my dear, the only difference being that this time we may hold him fully responsible.”
Revan felt Bastila’s anger flare and immediately spoke to prevent further confrontation between Bastila and the Council. “Right. Fully responsible. So you’re sending me out to the field to take out the last of the Sith?”
Bastila’s eyes snapped to him, but he ignored her in favor of glaring the pale-haired woman down, knowing that as long as they were angry with him, she would be spared the worst of their ire. His very existence guaranteed her their pity, which was enough to temper the worst of their dissatisfaction with her ‘progress’ since she had Fallen and returned from the Dark Side.
“You will go, accompanied by Jedi Shan,” Master Vrook Lamar finally said, his voice as severe as it always was. “Together, you will help the Republic Forces route the last of the Sith and bring your pasts to rest. We believe that this is the only thing that can truly bring the both of you peace and allow you to find purpose anew.”
Peace? Purpose?
Revan doubted it but said nothing, steeling his jaw and staring into the faces of the Jedi Council one by one. They all looked so far away somehow, like they were living in a different world, one that Revan could never reach even if he were to dedicate his entire life to pursuing whatever peace and purpose they had found in the Light Side of the Force.
“I had thought, considering your successes during the Mandalorian Wars, that you would be the perfect candidate to assist the Navy in our campaign against the Sith Remnants,” the High Admiral said, breaking the silence. “I’m sure you don’t need to be reminded, but you once commanded an entire third of the Republic Military, and now that you’ve been persuaded to return to our side…”
She trailed off, perhaps only just now becoming aware of the tension in the room, of the way Bastila stood statue still, of Revan’s dark gaze as he locked eyes with Master Vrook, of the silent energy between the Council and their summoned Prodigal Knight, ready to snap at any moment.
“I would be honored to assist you,” Revan said, his eyes flickering towards Dodanna. “As the Council says, I have a certain personal investment in ensuring peace is finally brought to the Republic after these twenty years of constant war.”
“As do I,” Bastila confirmed, moving a half step closer to Revan’s side, his chest swelling with a protective feeling that he was certain did not originate from himself. “We are both at your service, High Admiral. I have assisted the Republic Navy before and am dedicated to seeing this through until the end.”
The High Admiral looked between the both of them, stealing wary glances at the High Council, seeming to sense that her time in this room was done. She addressed Revan and Bastila, this time speaking to them as respected equals and valued allies, “You’ll leave with the fleet at 0400 hours tomorrow. I think you’ll find the Fleet Admiral a familiar face, something I hope will facilitate teamwork and a spirit of camaraderie.”
Revan arched his eyebrows, but didn’t have time to question her, though he of course had his suspicions… Suspicions Bastila apparently shared, if the look she gave him was any indication.
The High Admiral smiled before turning back towards the Council, bowing to them. “Thank you,” she announced, “I’m sorry for the interruption, but I now have to return to my office and file a report about this meeting to High Command. With your leave.”
“May the Force be with you, High Admiral,” said Master Tokare, smiling in his wizened way, silence falling as they all listened to her footsteps recede, echoing down the corridor.
For a long moment after she left the entire Council Chamber fell into a hush, everyone waiting for something to happen, for the equilibrium to shift and then settle. Revan and Bastila stood facing it, that sense of anxiety and dread from before returning, twisting between them like a great static dragon winding its way through the Wroshyr Trees of Kashyyyk. Closing his eyes, he took a moment to remember the Jedi Code, and when he opened them again, the world had come back into focus.
There is no emotion, there is peace.
“You will go, you will find peace and purpose, and when you return,” Master Tokare said, breaking the silence with his stern, paper-thin voice, “you will both submit yourselves for retraining.”
He felt Bastila’s shock vibrate through him, though he himself felt numb, part of him having expected the words since the moment he had returned to the Temple all those months ago. If he felt surprise at all, it was surprise that it had taken this long to ask it of him, but really… What did they expect? That the third time would be the charm? That he would just suddenly have a different personality? Be a different person? That he would stop being a bad influence overnight?
“Retrain?” Bastila asked, her voice wavering with a note of incredulity that was not lost on the Jedi High Council.
“Yes, retrain,” the pale-haired woman said once more, shifting in her seat, her equally pale eyes settling on Revan, gaze bleeding venom. “You are still young, Jedi Shan. You have time to recover from your brief flirtation with the Dark Side. This man has not completely corrupted you.”
Revan grit his teeth, but before he could say anything Bastila spoke, fire barely constrained in the depths of her icy-blue eyes, “With all the respect due to you, Masters, I made my own choices, and without Revan I would never have come back to the Light.”
This time it was the pale-haired woman who got cut off, and by Master Vrook no less. “Be at peace, Master Atris,” he said, holding up his hand. “Jedi Shan, regardless of the cause behind your Fall, the solution must be the same. You and Jedi Ollus both require retraining; training you will agree to submit to upon your return, lest you be expelled from the Order.”
Bastila was cowed into silence, her mouth opening and closing briefly before she bowed, her shoulders releasing their proud tension as she sloped, defeated. “Yes, Masters.”
It had had happened in an instant, her resignation and acceptance of their ultimatum, but Revan didn’t blame her. What else was she supposed to do?
What were either of them supposed to do?
Glancing back to Bastila, he took a deep breath and steeled himself for the inevitable.
Right now he had twelve great reasons to walk out that door and never look back, but one perfect reason to stay.
“Yes, Masters,” Revan repeated, bowing before them.
His words were greeted only with silence, as if obedience was only to be expected.
It felt later than it was when Revan finally made his way to one of the landing pads, imagining all the stars shining in the sky beyond the layer of light pollution. Out here it was much cooler, enough that he could feel the heat draining from his face and his sense of serenity returning as he paced the outer edge of the landing pad where a small shuttle was docked. Sinking down, he slung his legs over the edge and stared out at the sparkling lights of the city, picturing himself out there instead of here, where the air of serenity had started to feel like a prison.
Tilting his head back, he closed his eyes, imagining himself anywhere but here — On Mannan, or Tatooine, or even somewhere out there in the city, somewhere without the Jedi. Around him, he could still feel the pulse of the Living Force, basking in the comfort of it, in the stability of it as it surrounded and filled him. Here, on the Mountain, in the Temple, the Force welled and then swelled, spilling out over the entire planet, a web of life and consequence.
Shivering slightly as a cold wind rustled his robes, Revan opened his eyes and looked up at the moon, losing himself in thought.
And inevitably, his mind went to Bastila.
Bastila.
This was important to her, to join the Jedi again, to heal and move on, and he would do anything to support her in that.
He was here for her now, here in this Temple, here constantly being judged for things he couldn’t remember.
Things that weighed on him nonetheless.
Taking a deep breath, he rubbed the back of his neck, a headache beginning to mount just behind his eyes… though that chain of thought was interrupted by an all too familiar voice calling to him from across the platform. Turning his head, Revan looked, watching Carth Onasi approach him… But not in that once familiar orange jacket or the black and red uniform of a Republic Captain, but in the striking red of the Admiralty.
Pushing himself to his feet, Revan brushed the dust off of his brown trousers and tunic, a smile coming easily to his lips. Reaching up, he tugged his fingers through his shaggy, dark hair, taking a few steps forward before clasping arms with his friend; a friend he didn’t think he would see for many years. A friend a felt more grateful to see than he ever could have imagined, in spite of all of their ups and downs.
“You’re the familiar face Dodonna mentioned?” Revan asked, pulling away, looking down into Carth’s clean-shaven face. “Well, less familiar since you’re so official looking now… Admiral Onasi, I presume?”
“Damn right, Mister Prodigal Knight,” Carth grinned. “Not that I’m the only one who got a shave and a haircut. You know, you never struck me as the sort of man to have a baby face, but without that beard of yours, you look… Well, you don’t really look your age.”
Revan laughed at that, barely feeling the cold anymore. “Considering I’m getting close to forty, I should probably thank you for that.”
Carth turned around, looking back towards the Temple, heaving a sigh as they both stood in the shadow of the building, the lights on the landing pad like islands in the darkness. For a moment all was quiet, the faint noise pollution of Coruscant and the sound of the structure creaking in the wind at this altitude. Then the sound of faint footsteps sounded, growing louder with the moment.
Revan watched, the shape in the darkness appearing first as a pale blue, gaining features as it approached, until it was obvious it was Bastila, walking towards them with a strained expression on her face. At first she didn’t see Carth, walking right past him to embrace Revan, her body small and warm against his chest. He could feel her heartbeat, could smell the simple scent of her herbal soap, hear her breathing as her warm, wet breath trapped itself in the folds of his robes and he wrapped his arms securely about her.
“I’m sorry,” she said, voice muffled by fabric and his torso.
“I can’t imagine what you have to apologize for,” he muttered. “It’s not as if you came up with the plan to ship us off to deal with the Sith and then cart us both off to Jedi boot camp for the foreseeable future.” He pulled away, hands still firmly on her shoulders, looking down into her face, feeling the affection radiate from him so freely that he was sure even Force Blind Carth could sense it. “We do this, and we enjoy it. Whatever comes of it comes of it.”
He would stay for her, he repeated to himself, though inside there was the fear that she was the only thing he had to leave for, that she was the only reason that he was still living at all. What would he find, if he lost her? If he had to go out there right now without her? He knew that he could survive, but would he have any meaning left?
What was he if not an empty shell?
Drawn from his thoughts by the warmth of Bastila’s hand against his, Revan offered a smile to reassure her, though he knew she could feel his uncertainty. There was nothing he could really hide from her when they shared their feelings and dreams across a Bond that could never be severed, an intimate Bond that linked them to one another across space itself, created when she had reached into his mind and touched the essence of his being.
“This isn’t what you want,” she said. “You shouldn’t have to stay.”
“I have nowhere else to go,” he told her out loud. “There’s only you. I told you, I love you.”
Her face turned soft, then reddened when Carth cleared his throat making her quickly step away, head snapping towards him.
“Carth,” she said flatly. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough,” he replied, grinning as her her entire face turned as red as a Sith Commando’s armor, her brows knitting together in clear enraged embarrassment. “Good to see you, too, by the way. I’m glad we’ll be working together again. It’s only been a few months, but I’ve really missed the both of you… Probably because I’ve been spending this entire time chasing Sith through Hutt Space.”
“Hutt Space?” Revan asked, placing a calming hand on Bastila’s shoulder and watching the tension drain from her body.
“The Sith have some of their officers hiding on Nar Shaddaa. They were profitable to the Hutt Cartel and the Exchange, so we don’t have much cooperation from the locals,” Carth said with a bit of a shrug. “Better than Tatooine, as far as I’m concerned.”
“So we shall be heading to Nar Shaddaa?” Bastila asked, face now a soft shade of pink, her brow furrowing further. “Where else? I assume you know.”
“Mannaan. The Sith army itself is holed up there and has the city under siege rule,” Carth said, then hesitated briefly, his dark eyes flickering between the two of them. “And Korriban. The last of the Dark Jedi are there, barricaded inside the Academy. It was the High Admiral’s hope that Revan’s military genius would be able to help get us out of this.”
Revan pressed his lips together in a thin line and suppressed a sigh, aware intimately of Bastila’s reserved yet deeply concerned glances. “0400 hours then, Admiral Onasi?”
“Please don’t call me that. It sounds so condescending coming from you,” Carth muttered. “But yes, 0400 hours, bright and early.”
“We Jedi are early risers anyway,” Bastila said simply, though her expression quickly softened, her eyes darting from side to side as if searching for eavesdroppers. “I will be glad to leave here for awhile and clear my head. I’ve always done better with things to occupy my mind, and these last few months have been nothing but interviews and guided meditations.”
“That sounds boring as hell,” Carth said, “but war isn’t exactly exciting either, just a whole lot of anxiety all the time.”
“I remember,” Bastila agreed, “but I have a duty to see this through, and at least I’ll be doing something.”
“I can’t help but agree,” Revan said, “though I’m afraid I’ll have to insist we cut this conversation short and catch up tomorrow. Jedi may be early risers but that means we have to be early sleepers, too.”
“That figures,” Carth said with a bit of a smile. “Take care of yourselves, okay? I’m not sure this will be as good for you as you think. There’s a lot of demons waiting out there in the Galaxy for you.”
Bastila, a shade paler than she had been a moment ago, turned and walked away wordlessly, and Revan, as he chased after her, couldn’t help but think that those demons were the exact reason why this mission would benefit them both.
Sometimes, you just needed a resolution, no matter how messy or brutal that resolution ended up being.