Star Wars: The Old Republic: Revan (35 page)

The air around her began to crackle and grow hot as she gathered herself for the killing blow. Scourge felt the energy building inside her,
and he knew he would be powerless to stop it. Nyriss was too powerful; her command of the dark side was too strong.

“Gaze upon me and see your doom!” she declared. “I am Darth Nyriss, Lord of the Sith. I am the conqueror of Drezzi, the destroyer of Melldia, and a member of the Dark Council!”

Scourge braced himself for the end.

Just then, Revan emerged from the cell. He had pulled the hood of his Jedi robe up to cover his head, and he wore the red-and-gray mask, hiding his face.

A dozen bolts of lightning sprang from Nyriss’s hand, arcing across the room to incinerate her enemies. Instead of leaping back into the cell to avoid the deadly attack, Revan stepped forward to intercept it.

Both hands were held in front of him, his arms fully extended at shoulder height, his thumbs touching and his fingers splayed wide. He drew the bolts of lightning into his waiting grasp, channeling them away from their intended targets and absorbing their power.

“I am Revan reborn,” he said to Nyriss. “And before me you are nothing.”

Nyriss’s eyes went wide as Revan unleashed the power of her own attack against her. She tried to throw up another Force shield, but the bolts ripped it apart and continued on unabated. The lightning engulfed her, the intense heat consuming her instantly, leaving only a pile of charred ash.

Scourge slowly clambered to his feet as Revan helped Meetra up. In the corner, the upended astromech let out a plaintive whistle and awkwardly managed to rock himself back into an upright position.

Revan walked over and knelt beside the closer of the two dead soldiers. He placed a hand on the man’s chest, but didn’t speak.

“We have to go,” Meetra said softly, coming over and gently touching Revan on the shoulder to interrupt his thoughts. “We don’t want the Imperial Guard to know you were here.”

He stood up and slowly turned to Scourge.

There was something unnerving about staring into the faceless mask; it made Revan seem more intimidating, more powerful. Or maybe Scourge just felt that way because he’d watched him destroy Nyriss.

Whatever the reason, he was more confident than ever that he’d made the right choice. If anyone had the strength to stop the Emperor, it was this man.

“This is yours,” the Sith said, taking the hilt of Revan’s lightsaber from his belt.

Revan accepted the gift with a brief nod, then simply said, “Get us out of here.”

SCOURGE LED THEM UP
the stairs and back to the breach in the wall where the Emperor’s Guard had first burst in. Though they could hear the distant sounds of battle echoing faintly through the halls, they didn’t encounter combatants from either side.

Once they were outside Meetra allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief.

Night had fallen, but several fires burning inside Nyriss’s stronghold illuminated the grounds, giving them a clear view of the destruction. The thick stone wall surrounding the courtyard and the building had been reduced to rubble, and judging by the number of bodies strewn about the courtyard, this had been the location of the fiercest fighting.

They picked their way through the carnage to where Scourge’s speeder stood unharmed near the landing pad. Every vehicle around it had been destroyed by artillery fire.

“It’s a miracle this thing’s still in one piece,” Revan remarked.

“The Guard must have been watching our arrival,” Scourge said. “They knew which speeder was mine.”

The four of them climbed in, Revan and Meetra helping T3, then headed for the cave where Meetra and Scourge had first met.

During the journey, Meetra tried to study Revan without being too
obvious. He was still wearing the red-and-gray mask; for her this was his true face. She knew what he looked like beneath his helmet, but he had almost never removed it during their campaign against the Mandalorians.

Seeing him in the cell without it had struck her as odd. The passage of the years and the suffering he had endured as a prisoner were clearly etched on his features. When he wore the mask, however, all that was hidden. It made him look indomitable, invincible—a legend come to life.

Meetra remembered what Bastila had said to her when she had given her the mask. She said she had hidden it from Revan for all those years because she feared what it represented. She feared it would change him. Now Meetra understood what she meant.

Without the mask he looked more human. It was easier to remember he was just a man, with all the weaknesses and vulnerabilities that implied. With the mask, however, Revan was an icon, a symbol. He was the shaper of history, an individual defined by his actions rather than his thoughts, feelings, and beliefs.

Maybe Bastila was right; maybe Revan needed to become what he once had been to survive this. He had easily bested Darth Nyriss, but the Emperor was a much greater opponent. And yet she couldn’t help but feel some small tinge of regret knowing the man Bastila loved might have been swallowed up by the weight of Revan’s own past.

Scourge brought the speeder in to land, and the three passengers disembarked.

“You’re not coming?” Meetra asked when the Sith made no move to join them.

“I’m going back to Kaas City,” he said. “I’ll see if I can learn any more details about the attack. If we’re lucky, the Emperor has spread his resources too thin, leaving him vulnerable. Now might be the time to strike.”

“Bring back some supplies,” Revan said. “Food. Water. Soap so I can wash the filth of that prison off me.”

Scourge nodded. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

The three of them went into the cave, T3 using his lamp to illuminate the dark interior.

The cave was empty now. While waiting for Scourge to return from
his meeting with the Emperor, Meetra and T3 had buried the bodies of the fallen security chief and his soldiers in a bare patch of ground a short hike away from the cave’s entrance.

“I’m sure you’re eager to change out of those clothes,” Revan said.

What about you?
Meetra thought.
Why haven’t you taken off that mask yet?

“We have something to show you first,” she said. “Tee-Three, play the holovid.”

The droid rolled up beside them, projecting a thirty-centimeter-tall image of Bastila cooing over Revan’s three-year-old son.

“I don’t know if you’ll ever see this,” Bastila said, adjusting a lock of hair on the boy’s head as she spoke to the holorecorder. “But I have to believe you’ll return someday. And when you do, I thought you’d want to share your son’s birthday.”

Revan didn’t say anything. As if in a daze, he slowly sat down on the floor so the projection was at eye level.

“Wave to Daddy,” Bastila said, pointing in the direction of the recorder. “Say, ‘We miss you!’ ”

The boy did as instructed, waving his tiny arm vigorously as he repeated Bastila’s words.

To Meetra’s relief, Revan reached up and removed his mask as the holovid continued to play, setting it down on the ground beside him.

“I know we didn’t discuss names before you left,” Bastila said. “But I called him Vaner.”

Revan smiled, realizing it was an anagram of his own name.

“I want him to know who his father is,” the holo continued. “I want him to understand you are a part of him.”

A tear rolled down Revan’s cheek as he watched the vid, and Meetra quietly retreated into a dark corner of the cave to let him watch in private. She’d stashed her clothes here before she and Scourge had left for Nyriss’s stronghold, and the shadows gave her the privacy she needed to change out of her slave’s outfit.

Instead of the black pants and sleeveless red shirt she’d worn on her first arrival, however, she once again donned her Jedi robes. She didn’t consciously think about her choice, and it was only as she was clipping the lightsaber to her belt that she realized what she’d done.

You’re following Revan’s lead
, she thought.
If he’s wearing Jedi robes, then so are you. Just like old times
.

As the holovid continued to play, she lingered near the back of the cave. She couldn’t help but overhear Bastila say, “I love you, Revan,” as the recording came to an end.

“I love you, too,” Revan responded, the acoustics of the cave making his voice unnaturally loud.

Meetra shifted her feet uncomfortably at the exchange. She wasn’t jealous of Bastila; Meetra loved Revan, but not in that way. She’d never had romantic feelings for her mentor. Rather, she regarded him with deep admiration and intense devotion.

At this moment, however, she was acutely aware that Bastila and Revan shared a relationship that went far deeper than what Meetra shared with him. She knew she shouldn’t begrudge them that, but some small part of her couldn’t help but feel her reunion with Revan had been preempted by a holovid.

T3 beeped inquisitively as the video came to an end.

“Of course,” Revan said. “I’ll watch it a hundred times over if I can. But give me a minute.”

He stood up and went to join Meetra in the back of the cave.

“Thank you for this,” he said. “And for saving me.”

“It was nothing.”

“No,” Revan said, shaking his head. “Do not underestimate all you have accomplished. Nobody else could have found me across an entire galaxy. Nobody else could have saved me from my imprisonment.” He studied her for a moment. “I was told you had been cut off from the Force, but I can sense its power in you. I always knew you had great potential, but you have become far greater than I could ever have imagined.”

“I’m just following in your footsteps.”

“Not anymore,” Revan replied. “You have blazed your own trail. I can sense you have walked a path even I would not dare to tread. I owe you everything, Meetra. It is a debt I will never be able to repay.”

“No,” Meetra said with a wan smile. “Without your teaching, I could never have become what I am today. I am the one who owes a debt she can never repay.”

“Then why don’t we call it even?” Revan said.

“A wise and just solution,” she replied. “As always.”

“Would you like to see the holovid of Bastila and my son?” he asked, offering her his hand. “It would mean more to watch it with a friend at my side.”

“Of course,” she said, a lump forming in her throat. “It would be my honor.”

WHEN SCOURGE ARRIVED BACK
at the cave he found Meetra and Revan huddled side by side on the floor, staring at a holovid projected by T3. He caught a glimpse of a young human female and what Scourge assumed was her child, but as he approached the droid quickly cut the recording off.

“What was that?” he asked.

“My wife and son,” Revan said.

He stood up stiffly and stretched, and Scourge wondered how long he had been sitting on the floor of the cave watching the holovid. He also noticed that Revan had removed his mask; it was sitting on the ground beside him, seemingly forgotten.

“I didn’t know you were married,” he said.

When Revan didn’t answer, it was clear he had no intention of discussing his personal life with a Sith. They might be allies, Scourge realized, but they were far from friends. Which was as it should be—for a Sith Lord, friends were a liability.

“What did you find out?” Meetra asked as Revan extended a hand to help her up.

“It wasn’t just Nyriss who was attacked. The Emperor killed them all.”

“The files you showed me listed five current members of the Dark Council plotting against him,” Meetra said, looking to clarify. “Are you saying the Emperor’s Guard wiped out all five in the space of a single day?”

“I said he killed them all,” Scourge replied. “All twelve members of the Dark Council—even those who weren’t part of the conspiracy. He wanted to send a message no one would ever forget.”

“How is that possible?” Revan asked. “He attacked a dozen of the most powerful Sith Lords in their seats of power simultaneously? How many troops does he have?”

“The Imperial Guard were only unleashed on Nyriss and two others. The Emperor must have assumed they were the ones least likely to answer his summons. The other nine were called together in the hours before the attack to meet with the Emperor at his citadel. None of them left alive.”

“So what’s happening now?” Meetra asked.

“News of the massacre spread quickly,” Scourge said. “As you would expect, the result was chaos. Thousands are fleeing for their lives, fearing we are on the brink of civil war. Others see an opportunity to strike at rivals weakened by the sudden loss of political allies, and armed platoons are roaming the streets.”

“How did the Emperor react?” Revan asked.

“He’s declared martial law and imposed a curfew over the entire city. The Guard are enforcing his orders with their typical ruthless efficiency. He also forbade any ship or shuttle to land or leave before he launched his attack, and he shut down all offworld communications.”

“He’s quarantined the entire planet,” Revan said. “He wants to get everything here back under control before any other worlds hear that he slaughtered the entire Dark Council.”

“You told me he was mad,” Meetra muttered, “but this is outrageous. There had to be a better way for him to handle this. Thousands of his people are going to die before order is restored.”

“The last time I was here on Dromund Kaas, I peered into the depths of the Emperor’s mind,” Revan told them. “A thousand lives mean nothing to him.”

“The last time you were here?” Scourge said, pouncing on the phrase. “Have some of your memories returned?”

“Seeing my old mask triggered something. I remember everything now,” Revan admitted. “Malak and I learned the Sith still survived. We came here to Dromund Kaas to investigate. Posing as mercenaries, we spent months learning everything we could about the Emperor and his people. Even back then he was already planning his invasion of the Republic. When Malak and I learned of his preparations, we
tried to stop him. We found a member of the Imperial Guard who was willing to sneak us inside the citadel.”