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
, which provides some backstory for the conversation in the second half of the chapter. It's not vital, but hey
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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.”
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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?
“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.