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Before - Legends Bastila Shan - An Autobiography

Discussion in 'Fan Fiction- Before, Saga, and Beyond' started by metophlus, Jun 30, 2015.

  1. metophlus

    metophlus Jedi Padawan star 2

    Registered:
    Jun 30, 2015
    Entry Nine



    ONE YEAR LATER. . .

    Vox and I sat on a bench with High Priest Ulth Muraec aboard the Ithorian herdship Nature Womb, orbiting the jungle planet Ithor. Feathered reptiles glided or zoomed close overhead and primates blinked at us from between the wide leaves of branches. Vines and flowers chaotically claimed the edges of the steel walkway in front of us where tourists strolled and chattered.

    "My experts scrutinized footage taken by miners in the asteroid belt." Ulth used his native speech. Ithorian eyes were heavily-lidded and set at either side of a head that blended with the neck in a wide, flattish shape. "They agree that the ship designs are a call-back to Basilisks. Scavengers found a defunct probe droid in the same region matching a known Mandalorian build."

    A young man and woman couple, dressed in skimpy clothing made of small leaves and flowers, took their sweet time up the path. They smiled, laughed, spun, and kissed openly in front of equally happy passerby. I became self-conscious, being dressed modestly in a wrinkled skirt tunic and baggy britches.

    Vox set his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands. His formerly amputated tentacle had regrown this past year. "The war-mongers can spare a militia more than capable of hijacking a stray herdship, but your cities have remained at peace thus far. I'm guessing the Mandalorians - if that's to whom the rogue ships actually belong - are mining asteroids. Hardly a cause for alarm."

    A light weight dropped onto my shoulder. I flinched and turned my head to find a pocket-sized primate. It tugged at a loose lock of my hair. "Shoo, you."

    Ulth raised his dull ramble an octave. "How do I know they are not scheming to destroy Ithor? What if they want to strike the Republic by burning its most sacred refuge?"

    The creature launched itself at Vox's face. Several more fell from the trees and joined their friend in treating the Jedi as a playset.

    I leaned forward and addressed the Ithorian while Vox between us flailed and cursed. "High Priest Muraec. We shall help you demand an assembly with your fellow delegates. I advise that you campaign for every herdship to assume a close orbit around Ithor until war tensions ease."

    "Master Vox Aben. Be proud of your mere pupil." Ulth clapped Vox on the back even while the Quarren pulled off two furry rascals that had used his head as a see-saw. "She is wise like unto a Jedi Master."

    My heart jumped at the praise, but I kept my face impassive. Ulth pulled out a transceiver and, seconds later, a holographic image appeared of an Ithorian in pilot wear.

    "Captain Donzra," Ulth said. "Startle your High Priestess from her sleep and tell her that I call a hearing at 1300. To be tardy is to be frowned upon by the Jungle Mother."

    The image disappeared. Vox freed himself of the last creature and sent me a withering emotion through the Force. "I am to do the talking, little witch."

    I clenched my jaw and looked at the transmitter in Ulth's hand, ignoring my master. He would find an excuse to lecture me regardless what I did on the mission. Holographic Donzra returned. "She asks if this hearing involves Mandalorian conspiracy theories."

    I stood and strode to the High Priest's opposite side. "It involves two Jedi supporting Ulth Muraec's position."

    Donzra stared at me quietly for a moment then said, "Fertilizer." aka "****."

    Ulth put the device back in his ceremonial garb.

    Vox stood and lost his cordial manner as he gurgled down to the High Priest. "My pupil gave you false hope. The Jedi Order declines any and all requests for assistance fighting the Mandalorians. We can provide a colony on CW-411 and minimum supplies for Nature Womb residents wishing to evacuate, but our involvement ends there."

    The Ithorian started trying to speak, but he was overcome by disappointment. At last he rose and faced the Quarren. "Enjoy your time here. Soon, the enemy will crush this beautiful place and my people will wail for help into the abyss as they perish in flames. Good luck, Jedi, suffering under such a burdensome code of morality."

    I followed my master across a durasteel bridge over a rushing river, then a winding dirt path through dense forest and grasslands. We entered an archway under a thunderous waterfall onto a docking bay. "There must be a better way we can help. I fear it would take a catastrophe to convince the residents to relocate."

    "Shut that wretched human mouth."

    We left Nature Womb and docked aboard Lush Bay where Vima and Meetra met with a different High Priest about the Mandalorian issue. We beeped Vima on comm. "We started five minutes ago," she said. "I'll inform you when we're finished." The Council had assigned an equal number of herdships to Vox and Vima, ordering the two Jedi to update them and each other after every meeting. They also required Vox to take me along so I could gain valuable experience by first-hand observation.

    I entered my quarters and sat down at the table slash tool bench and commenced my studies into Ithorian culture. I spent most my free time these days watching educational holo-vids, learning alien languages, biology, and customs, knowledge a Jedi required to carry out their diplomatic duties for the Order. Right now I studied a rare example of a sentient plant, the bafforr tree, which expanded its neural network by interconnecting roots with others of its species.

    After an hour I rose and walked to the cockpit, drowsy and irritated that Vima was taking so long. "May I leave to explore a little?"

    Vox fiddled at something on the console. "Please, for the love of the Force, do leave." He held up a finger and rotated around in his chair. "Should you wander too far, I shall leave you here."

    - - -

    I stopped on a bridge and leaned on the railing to watch swoopbikers race across the water of the wide river below. They sent fountains and shore-crashing waves behind them as they sped in my direction and then under the bridge, hooting and laughing. Misty droplets soaked my face. I smiled and made down a hiking trail, exchanging nods and greetings with tourists, many of them young, attractive, half-nude and covered in washable body art. I jogged at a casual speed, following the trail into a thick, sometimes dark forest where animals croaked, squeaked, and chirped. Rodents appeared but vanished in a flash. Birds from various ecosystems around the galaxy pruned themselves on branches. The smell of cooked food and hundreds of babbling voices told me there was a gathering ahead. The forest ended and I found myself in a spacious plaza. People sat and ate all manner of food at a section crowded with wood-woven chairs and tables. Room-sized restaurant stalls and souvenir stands took half the edge of the circular stone area and across from those was a grassy ridge where people lay on towels and tanned, or guzzled alcohol and smoked recreational weed.

    I spotted past the flowing foot traffic a tall man with dark red skin. We locked gazes and he immediately walked toward me. I looked away and started walking in a different direction to lose myself in the crowd.

    "Hey. Wait right there, Jedi girl."

    I turned. Two women who might have been professional models held his either arm. He wore a leather vest pulled back to reveal nipples pierced by hoop rings and small shorts that hinted at one reason for his confident demeanor. He was good-looking after an edgy fashion, forehead square and high, nose and chin prominent and pointed such that I was reminded of my Zabrak Sith warrior from a year ago.

    He held up a cocktail glass in his hand. "A sip for the sweet Jedi?"

    I crossed my arms and tried to seem bored. "No, thank you."

    "She's too snoody for us, daddy." The toned, big-breasted woman at his right ran her fingers up his defined bicep. Her dark curly hair matched well her tanned skin, contrasting the second woman who was pale and had straight blonde hair.

    "Liquor against your religion?" The man smiled. "Your sort could stand to loosen up and have a good time."

    "I'll be on my way, sir." I tried to pass him.

    He grabbed my arm and leaned in. "You really wanna kick away a handsome, fun-loving guy? Let me take you to the fun, show you that good time."

    Startled at his assertiveness, I pried his hand from my arm. "I enjoy the company of those with more class than yourself."

    "Trying to say I'm low-time by hanging around his fine piece of arse?" The pale-skinned female reached up and pulled a pair of stylish goggles down her nose and stared at me sleepily. She raised her naked leg and foot up the man's shin, her knee nestling beneath his groin.

    "Dat attitude, girl." The red-skinned rogue pulled his two women along to stand in front of me, cutting off my escape among the moving crowd. "You gotta treat strangers like me politely, or you're gonna find your pretty self all alone in the galaxy. Would you at least sit down with me, talk to me, get to know me before you go all cold?"

    I snorted. "How many more times do I need to reject you before the message enters that evidently minuscule brain?" I flared my nostrils. There was a primordial aroma in the air, somehow scentless yet the most pleasant of scents. My nethers tingled and a kind of intoxicating warmth spread through my insides.

    "Come here, girl. There's room for one more princess." He sent me a predatorial look and the dark-haired woman slid over.

    This man really churned my juices. I had once read a romance where deep, all-encompassing attraction between two souls struck decisively out of clear space. Perhaps that's what was happening here? I took my place against him. "Take me somewhere private, daddy."

    I sensed jealousy, contempt, and admiration from those we passed, then we started down a steep, winding walkway to a grove beside a noisy stream where some Ithorians collected fruit in crates. Our leader pushed through the branches of short pines and we stopped in a small clearing, dead pine-needles carpeting the ground.

    - - -

    They left and I snoozed.

    Soon I woke, stretched, stood up and examined my state. My knees were dirty and sticky sap had stained my robes, but I could think up a believable lie for Vox, should he inquire. The Jedi would have little to fuss over, really, because I was still very much a virgin. It was simply fooling around.

    Then I realized that my lightsaber was gone.

    I frantically patted my belt and shifted through the pine needles to find nothing and broke out of the clearing and retraced my steps through the grove and up the walkway. Had someone in the crowd swiped it off my person earlier? But my senses were perpetually sharp, even during sleep. Except when. . . I made fists as I reached the edge of the busy plaza. That man was a thief. He and his empty-headed harlots had seen me as small prey with big pay-offs. How much did a lightsaber go for on the black market? "I should've bitten down ---"

    Many people stopped eating, walking, or chatting and turned their attention to giant holo-screens over the market stalls which switched to the same newscast. I took a deep breath, clearing out the worst of my anger for the time being, and chanced a look.

    "I am Revan." The robed, hooded man's voice boomed and echoed, filled the herdship from hundreds of light-years distant."The Jedi Council may be content to sit behind closed doors and debate while the Outer Rim burns, but I and my followers are taking action to fight the storm."

    He stepped aside and gestured to the scenery behind him. Refugees sat against shattered stone walls, staring absently, barely alive or already dead, their bodies soiled by ash and grime, some with bandaged missing appendages. The cam rotated to show refugees who waited in a food line.

    The scene moved to show a landscape of smoking rubble. Fighters skimmed the undersides of unnaturally dark clouds that stretched to a hazy twilight. The cam tilted downward to where a Republic soldier helmet lay partially sunken in pebbles and dust. A foot extended from off-screen, moved the helmet, and it became clear a head was stuck inside.

    Our perspective switched back to Revan. "We will defeat the Mandalorians and drive them back into the Unknown Regions. It is time for Republic Forces and my Revanites to unite fully through military might."

    A taller man stepped up, his face kind and his bald head lightly tattooed. He held a thin, sickly child in his arms which he carefully handed to Revan. The child hugged his defender. "I come to recruit those skilled in combat and brave of heart," the tall man said. "Wait for me."

    The newscast ended and tourists began to talk louder than ever amongst each other. I ran for the opposite path, intent on returning to the ship, but in an instant a crowd surrounded me tightly on all sides and the questions and comments poured forth.

    "What are the Jedi going to do?"

    "Why are you here, when you could be killing Mandalorians?"

    "Where's your master?"

    "Time I beat a Jedi's face in."

    Their sheer body heat felt suffocating. I tried to push past, but their numbers shoved me back and I fell into a Devaronian who grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me. I jerked away and accidentally head-smashed a Mon Calamari, turned and faced a hideous alien whose disgusting breath showered my face.

    "Back away from the girl," an Ithorian security guard said on the big holo-screen. A gas grenade went off a dozen yards away. People scattered, screamed, and started running. I tried to keep up with the stampede of scattering tourists, but several behind me were blinded by panic and made as though to tackle me.

    I Force-leapt, sailed in the air, and landed on the hiking path. By the sounds of it, many followed me, but I used my Force speed and fled down the trail through the forest.
     
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  2. metophlus

    metophlus Jedi Padawan star 2

    Registered:
    Jun 30, 2015
    Entry Ten




    Classes were canceled today and tomorrow for reasons the Jedi kept to themselves. That morning I received a curt message from Master Leston telling me that the Council wanted to meet with me in private. Fearing they would want to know how I had lost my lightsaber and what I had been doing on my tour of the herdship, I focused on the feeling of my feet in my shoes as I traversed the enclave courtyard.

    Delgitto Tomis waved from beside the frame of the wide front entrance and asked if I was going to be expelled. I stopped and asked where he had heard such a ridiculous rumor.

    "Sidlanger caught word from her master that you landed in some kind of trouble over Ithor. Everyone's talking."

    I planned to admonish him for taking seriously a dolt who had every reason to smeer my good name, then personally hunt down said dolt and remind her of her proper place. But that would have to come later. I kept walking. The Masters perpetually scanned their students' emotions and uppermost thoughts, or so I suspected, and I was drawing to within a grenade's throw.

    I entered the airy, circular main chamber where four Jedi Masters stood on the far ledge of the sunken floor. They faced the center, postures militant.

    Vandar was the hardest for me to read. "Come, stand before us, young padawan."

    I halted in front of them, bowed at the waist, and straightened. "You wished to see me?"

    Dorak said, "Master Aben has requested to return to Calamar to assist his people in rebuilding. After deliberation, we have granted his request."

    "I'm going to Calamar, then?" A crowd of Quarren and Mon Calamari must reek like rotting fish. The sounds alone would be enough to drive me insane.

    Leston's lekku twitched. "A most colorful description, padawan. But you need not voice your anxieties."

    "No," Vandar said. "Master Aben made it clear that he does not intend to return for quite some time. If at all."

    "And he was quite insistent on you not accompanying him." Dorak looked at me as though he half-expected a reaction.

    When none came, Vrook spoke. "Which brings us to the reason for your summoning. Your future in the Jedi Order must be decided, and what that future is will depend entirely on you."

    I stared over Vandar's head, halfway divorcing my mind and emotions from the present in preparation for a hard fall. Nonetheless, my pulse quickened and I found it slightly harder to breathe.

    Vrook went on. "You've been one of our most promising students since your acceptance here. Because of this we have chosen to ignore many of your transgressions."

    The edges of my vision darkened. Was I going to faint? I unconsciously reached up and massaged my forehead, feeling pangs from an impending headache. "Pardon me, but what transgressions in particular?"

    "You habitually argue with Master Aben," Vandar said as though from far away. "You have employed techniques that you understand lead to the Dark Side, as when we interrogated the Sith agent."

    In my peripheral, I caught the distinct image of a person made of shadows climbing on a Blbla tree inside an alcove of the chamber wall. A few seconds ticked by. The shadow was still playing on the branches.

    It was Leston's turn. "You express passion in dueling peers, bringing yourself closer to the Dark Side."

    "Your actions place us in a rather difficult position," Dorak said.

    I moved my eyes to point at the Blbla tree. The shadow instantly vanished. These are symptoms of shock, Bastila, that is all. I closed my eyes as perspiration cooled my face.

    You are free. Return to Ambria.

    Vrook's voice was abruptly a welcome sound to my ears. "If we allow you to run rough-shot in the academy, what example does that set for the other students? The choice is yours, padawan. You can either correct your behavior, or be assigned to a frontier world, where you'll serve the galaxy not as a Jedi, but as a laborer."

    Shadows played on the Blbla trees and cursed this turn of events, this second chance. "I understand. I give you my word that I will rectify my flaws."

    - - -

    That afternoon, Meetra and I sat on the lake shore watching the waves magnificently sparkle to the light of the swollen setting sun. Frothy water crashed on boulders that poked from the lake surface and glided in slow motion to drench the sand where we sat, tickling our bare feet, soaking our robes. "You said they called you in for a meeting, too. Did they find out about us?"

    "Only Vima and Vox were ever privy." The blonde beauty set her hand on mine and moved the edge of her thumb along my little finger, a move so delicate and teasing.

    I smiled and turned to her. "Vaggy-mouth's leaving for Mon Calamar. Tell the Council you wanna be my full-time instructor."

    Her face naturally had that quality of a woman who had woken from a deep slumber minutes ago, a woman who squinted and smiled to herself at the memory of some sensual dream. "I'd be worse than reckless to take that role." She turned to me and touched the tips of our noses. "I've been reckless to entertain our tryst at all."

    I gently blew on her moist lips.

    Meetra threw herself against me and sent us both sideways. On top of me, my playful attacker grabbed my wrists. I pulled one wrist free, but wrapped a leg behind her knees and snapped my teeth lightly on her chin. She bent her legs, keeping my leg in place, and grabbed my wrist in a stronger grip. We carried on with our push-pull wrestling match until she had locked my arms and legs.

    The air began to distort around us, acting like the waves on the lake, and thunder rumbled over us in a clear sky.

    "The Jedi say I possess long foresight for one so young." She kissed hard up and down my neck. "They say that I'm more talented and knowledgeable than most masters. And that I hold a special, but dangerous power." The woman, straddling my hips, rose up on all fours and looked down at me. "They say the same things about you."

    I had submitted and become weak for a while to give her false security, but now I deliberately employed my muscles like a snake. She tried to resist, but she was too late. I reversed our positions and kept her in place under me.

    "Then let us deepen our bond," I said. "And become like a bright star in the Force. The Jedi and Sith will both rethink their philosophies when we've shown them our glory." Tiny dots of light burst in my vision and alien voices reached my ears at the ends of the thunder's rumblings.

    But she said that was what she feared and she held back the worst of her power while we intertwined.

    - - -

    Later that night I ran across the moonlight-covered plains for the plateau where lingered the Jedi Master I had come to know so well over the years. Kath hounds slept in clusters by pillars of white stone, the horned variety watching me enter and leave their territory. The ship's ramp was lowered when I arrived.

    Vox lay on his back, upper quarter out of sight underneath a weighty piece of tube-wreathed machinery. A spectrum of tools were set out on a towel in his reach.

    I crossed my arms. "What are you going at?"

    "I'm refitting the flux stabilizer." He tossed a gadget on the towel and took a wrench. "The gamma burst we flew into was nastier than I thought."

    "But you're horrible at engineering."

    "I find I become rather better when my life depends on the outcome." He tightened a component then squirmed out and sat up. Grease splotched his face and work robes. "Come be an assistant, will you?"

    I crouched down and for an hour handed him the tools he wanted, once going under that engine section with him to install a hand-sized part. He gave me simple instructions and practiced patience when I was hard-pressed to understand. We replaced wires and couplings, cleaned out grime, calculated fuel pressure and aligned fuses. He was more apt to chuckle at his own mistakes. When we had finished, I locked myself in the restroom to weep.

    "You're leaving for your home world?" I stepped into the lounge where Vox washed his hands and face at the sink.

    "There's been a toxic spill on the outskirts of Coral City. The ecosystem is damaged, which endangers indigenous species and the whole Mon Calamar economy."

    "I'd gladly go with you and help."

    "But you know I have requested the opposite of the Council."

    I stood in front of him. "We needed a long break from one another."

    "Farewell, then, Bastila Shan." He knew from our meeting on Talravin that my name would pervade the ages. And I knew that some part of him was proud for having been my master.

    "See to it that we meet again, grumpy squid-head." I accomplished a professional, if not stoic exterior.

    Vox nodded. "You are mastering your emotions, young woman. Now get off my ship."

    - - -

    I meditated in Dantooinian isolation, surrounded by docile kath hounds, when I heard the faint hum of a ship. I opened my eyes and settled a hand on the pup whose head rested in my lap. A sleek silver frigate that reflected puffy white clouds sliced the air of the sky in front of me where I sat cross-legged atop a hill.

    A breeze lifted loose strands of my pig-tailed hair, bringing sweet and earthy aromas to my nostrils. The slumbering pup grunted. I sensed a powerful Force-sensitive aboard that vessel headed to the enclave. "I'm sure my lap is an adequate pillow, but I have to leave." The animal opened its eyes, licked my hand, and loped with renewed vitality for its siblings.

    Adolescent students played ball in the expansive, grassy landing pad where the visiting frigate had settled. "What's going on?" I asked a boy.

    "Revan's right-hand Jedi is giving a speech."

    "Our teacher told us to go outside til he leaves," a girl said.

    I walked for the entrance. "Move faster, Bastila," a peer called as he bolted past. "Don't you wanna hear the speech?"

    Leston and Nemo sat in the courtyard. "The Revanchist harms the Order with his calls to battle," the Twi'lek said as he helped his human friend trim bush branches. "How many padawans have rebelled against their masters and left to die in strange lands?"

    Nemo, a gentle soul, sounded heartbroken. "A few of them I knew and taught as children, sadly."

    Jedi, ranging in prestige, age, and species, crowded the main chamber, but their numbers were quiet as someone spoke aggressively to Alek the recruiter who stood alone at the front facing his audience. "It was the Republic that quelled the tide of the Exar Khun campaign over thirty years ago. Their navy liberated Onderon and turned the Mandalorians into petty rebels. Rebels that have fooled gullible you into believing they could stand a chance against the galaxy's civilized might."

    I stayed at the back near the crowded portal, grateful that enough people sat that I could see the newcomer.

    The tall, bald, and kindly-faced Alek, dressed in plain but distinctive robes, spoke to his critic like they were a child in denial. "It is true that the Republic fought bravely against the Mandalorians. But the Jedi dealt the true crushing blow which defeated both Ulic Qel-Droma and Exar Khun."

    He made a gesture of hammering down a troublesome nail, basic body language for politicians. "Without both working as one, victory would not have been achieved. Look around you now." He spread his arms out and strode along the edge of the circle. "History is repeating itself. The Mandalorians continue to grow in strength with each passing day. The Council is wise, but will there be anything left to save by the time they come to a decision?" This man had the energy of a man powerful and trustworthy. I understood why Revan had chosen him as recruiter.

    Students helped an old woman to her feet before she questioned Alek in a feeble voice. "There's a peaceful solution somewhere. How are we better than the Sith when we answer violence with worse violence?"

    The Revanite hesitated for a few moments, then addressed the frail woman as he would someone he hoped to enlist. "We tried to offer peace to them, and they answered us with that violence, killing innocent civilians, destroying the lives of those who survived their wanton destruction."

    The crowd began to murmur in excitement, apprehension, and growing ideological division, but Alek's voice rose and carried above them. "Join Revan and fight through this deadly, blood-filled night. I promise that peace waits for us all at the end." Chaos broke out. When he had finished, everyone rushed to leave the chamber defiantly or station themselves by the charismatic man.

    "I stand with Revan!" A youth pumped his fist while his awaiting friends clapped and cheered.

    "We shall join you." A woman and her apprentice made for Alek.

    I navigated through the crazy cluster toward our celebrated guest. Of course I planned to join Revan and fight for the side of justice. Passerby scowled at me as they left or patted me on the back and congratulated my decision. Soon I was face-to-face with Alek himself and he looked down at me with a warm smile and placed a hand on my shoulder.

    I smiled. "Bastila Shan."

    "When Revan ordered me to Dantooine, he gave me the names of padawans' whom I needed to prioritize. Yours was at the top."

    But Meetra then broke through the nearby spectators and snatched my arm, pulling me away. Confused but automatically trusting in her actions, I let her guide me across the busy chamber to the closed door of the training room which she opened. Inside, door closed again, I yanked my arm away and glared at the woman.

    "Stay here, Bastila. Your place is with the Order." Something in her delivery told me that she, of all Jedi, was going to join the war. This was news to me. Moments ago I had been intent on leaving her behind at the conservative enclave, perhaps forever.

    "Did you hit your head?" I snapped at her. "Of course I'm coming with you."

    Her calm shell melted away for a flood of urgent conviction. "I've learned all that I can from the Jedi and done all that I can for them. I've reached a stage in my life where I need to move on and fight for causes."

    I tore down my own disciplined state and for the first time since the herdship I felt like a commoner again. "The same could be true for me. What do the Jedi have left to teach me about the Force that I couldn't learn from you? I'll fight by your side and when it's all over, we can leave behind everything and shape a life together."

    "You're developing your abilities and learning to act a woman and Jedi." Meetra put her hands on my shoulders and carefully squeezed, as wiser-than-thou mentors had a habit of doing. I shrugged off the physical contact and put my hands on my hips, refusing to be coddled by my current opponent. She went on, "You will destroy everything you've worked toward if you tag along with us. Do you truly think I can keep a close watch on you every moment we're on the battlefield? Do you think I could concentrate on whatever mission if I know you're in danger lightyears away?"

    I issued a groan that turned into a full-on growl. "It's more than just us, Meetra. I'm tired of hearing about the Mandalorians destroying villages and enslaving civilians." I yelled now, loud enough for others outside to hear, but so be it. "I'm sick of seeing all those injured caught in the middle of a stupid war. One day I'm going to recognize one of those faces. And when the worst comes, as it looks like it may, I could be looking at the smoldering rubble of the enclave, or walking among my peer's dead bodies."

    She suddenly stepped close and threw her arms around me. I kept my arms to my sides, though. "I am sorry, Bastila. I shall fight for you out there. But you are staying behind where it's safe."

    The portal swished open to reveal Masters Vrook and Leston. The crowd had cleared from the adjoining chamber.

    "Well? Surik?" Vrook held his arms behind his back.

    "I am joining the Revanchist," Meetra said.

    Vrook flinched and horror fell across his typically stern features. Leston frowned and looked at the floor, muttering in disbelief and shaking his head. They had feared for my allegiances and taken Meetra's for granted. They would proceed in life as more cynical men.

    For me to leave at her side would worsen the betrayal and crush the morale of the Dantooine Council. My heart broke for them and broke for my former lover. She pressed a hard kiss to my lips and glided out of sight toward a galaxy-shattering fate. I pursed my lips and took a deep breath through my nostrils, holding back tears.

    Vrook went and leaned his back on a nearby wall, eyes closed as he sank down and sat on the floor, wounded. "A third of them. Gone. Including our best."

    Leston looked at me pleadingly. "And you?"

    I turned away from them and ran a hand through my hair. And what of me? There was time yet to race for the courtyard and board Alek's ship. I meditated and brought my thoughts and emotions back under control, assuming my stoic Jedi exterior once more.

    At last I turned back to them. "The Jedi Order shall always have Bastila Shan. But. . . I do require a new lightsaber."

    - - -

    A FEW WEEKS LATER. . .

    I slept alone in the quarters that had five other empty beds, all of them once occupied. My dreams were vivid, sharper in sight and sound than real life. I dreamt I was a disembodied soul in the heights of the cave where the First Circle met, where the Miraluka warned them of future events she had encountered through prophetic visions, and where they schemed to divert destiny and create new outcomes. The blind prophet ordered her minions to enter their stealth fighters and make for Dantooine. The man with the youthful voice and handsome shadowed features gave his underlings a speech about the will of the Force.

    That man was familiar somehow. "Wake, girl. They are here."

    I gasped, opened my eyes and sat up, panted. My sheets were damp with sweat. "It's you again. Who's here?"

    "An acolyte slipped past the masters who guard the corridor to the student quarters. He'll ask you the whereabouts of the Quarren before he attempts to kill you. Blank your mind and endure until I can arrive to help."

    I scrambled out of bed and went to my one case of possessions to retrieve my robes. Dread and hatred like toxic fumes invaded my room and filled the space, tried to slither into my pores and nostrils. I focused on my bodily movements as I slid into my attire. Screams, bursts, and sizzles sounded from hallways away. Something was burning.

    Holding my weapon in my hand, I ran through the doorway and turned into the corridor. A lithe figure in a black outfit and hooded mask stepped out into the middle of the hall and faced me. I moved my thumb for the activator.

    But my enemy raised his arm and telekinetically lifted me a meter from the floor by the throat and chest. "Tell me where Vox Aben hides," he said in a strangely accented voice.

    My dangling weight constricted my airways. I tried to breathe, but only drew in scant amounts of air. He only needed for me to think about the location. Oddly, his method of interrogation helped to keep the information from the surface of my mind, which was now consumed by pain and waning consciousness. His grip tightened and he gave the command again with finality. I remembered the Zabrak bound to his chair when the Jedi questioned him. I recalled his favorite technique for escaping subjugation.

    I called waves of the Force into my body and let the power concentrate in my chest and stomach. The grip on my throat loosened.

    When I felt my insides would explode, I took a deep, ragged breath and exhaled hard. I blasted a shockwave from my body and sent my attacker tumbling backward while I fell to the hard floor on my knees, my weapon somehow still in hand. I climbed to my feet, coughing. Sweat stung my eyes. I wiped them and blinked.

    A blue glowing blade spun in the air toward me.

    I darted sideways and ducked.

    The blade tip grazed the collar of my robe.

    I pressed the activator and swung around as the enemy blade boomeranged back. I sliced the hilt in half. Light killed the darkness.

    When I turned, the assassin charged at me holding another lightsaber.

    I switched on the second blade of my saber staff and matched his charge. "The Force fights with me!"

    We swung at each other and we collided... again and again. Trace minerals in the air ignited and rained as sparks to our feet all while we dueled. I held the hilt in both hands, sometimes with the fingers of one, spun it over my head as a propeller of doom. I attacked and blocked at once, one after the other, attacked many times in a row and sent him back. But the fight lasted but two minutes.

    I chopped off his dominant arm at the elbow. The dead hand holding the saber hilt fell on my waiting blade.

    The robed, hooded assassin yelled and toppled onto his back. "If you love life, you'll kill yourself. The First Seer beheld the evil you shall bring in a few short years." I kicked him in the head, knocking him out, and I hurried for the enclave proper.

    Dead bodies and chunks of stone covered the smoke-filled main chamber where blaster bolts flew and obscured pairs dueled to fatality. I kept low and made for the entrance hall, deciding the outdoors would at least be less confused.

    Wreckage in the landing bay was spread further apart, stars and moon sporadically visible past breaks in the inky smoke given off by burning bodies and grass or lingering gases of grenades. Exhilarated and confident, I super-jumped onto the top of a wall, holding my hot saber staff. Aurek fighters sliced a fire-worked night sky, ejecting missiles that hit other fighters and destroyed them, or missed and hit distant hills or plateaus. There were a few basic designs I could discern. But how could they tell each other apart? I estimated that the First Circle controlled what amounted to an army. And I deduced that the woman who had communicated with me telepathically was in fact a double-agent. She had warned both the Republic and Jedi of the First Circle's attempted destruction of the Dantooine enclave, which now elapsed before my very senses.

    An enemy Aurek dove a few kilometers away and fired at the enclave before pulling back up. I watched the incoming projectiles and, finally, I feared for my life since fighting my last opponent. But they exploded on an invisible barrier. The light showed a few dozen Jedi beyond the main walkway gathered together and erecting Force barriers. Two screamed and fell, affected by the feedback. I questioned what course of action I should take. The First Circle wanted me dead. They had failed the first time. And now they used far more destructive measures, killing many to reach me.

    "We're failing!" A voice cried from among the Jedi. "And the Republic fighters are dropping fast!"
    "We'll never make it!"

    Indeed, little burning ships fell and crashed.

    I jumped from the wall to the outside and ran for my comrades. Some looked at me in disbelief.

    "What a relief!" Dorak, whom I now stood beside, smiled. "We thought you dead. Care to help, young padawan?"

    I nodded, switched off my lightsaber and clipped it to my belt.

    "More missiles! Get ready!"

    We majority of survivors all raised our arms and collective hyper-focus, feeding our energies and willpower to form a Force-barrier. The barrier crackled to life, we at its inner edge. It domed the enclave, reaching so high in the sky that fighters skidded across or exploded upon its energetic surface. The missiles hit. A shock traveled from my palms, through the bones and muscles of my arms, into my skull. I grimaced, but fed the barrier.

    "All right, that's good for now."

    I had given too much of myself. My head spun and ached. I sat down on the grass with my legs bent under me. "I need to meditate and refresh my reserves, if you don't mind."

    "Understandable," Dorak said. "But be ready when we call you to action."

    I straightened my back and closed my eyes, taking a deep breath of the chill night air. My anxiety leaked from my person with every breath as the sounds of destruction and yelling faded. I allowed my consciousness to ascend into a void, a relaxed state far removed from the physical. The Force swirled about my soul. I felt it, absorbed it, gave it my thoughts and my all. But then the Republic and First Circle pilots came into existence in the spiritual plain where I took refuge.

    They appeared as floating wisps flashing with real-time images and, when isolating one, I heard their thoughts. On a whim, I extended thin lines of the Force from my soul and connected with the Republic pilots. My awareness spreading into them, I sensed exploitable cracks in flawed reality, sensed how the Republic pilots could outmaneuver their enemies which outnumbered and outgunned them. I felt how those noble men could overcome and destroy those who sought to destroy them. I fed them the Force like a nursing mother, at the same time strengthening the connection between us. . . and we became as a single soul. I breathed my intent into them.

    They allowed my will to consume theirs and they acted in pristine coordination according to my will. The strategies of the enemy gradually became too predictable to me. I used one pilot to shoot down two, one after the other, used two pilots to herd four enemies into tight formation, then had a third zip past from above and destroy the four, the consequential debris striking a fifth enemy fighter.

    - - -

    It was dawn when I opened my eyes, stretched, and rose to my feet.

    The Jedi Masters congratulated me, having sensed the power I wielded in my Battle Meditation. The Republic reinforcements landed their fighters on a grassy stretch and walked up to us, holding their helmets under their arms, and diverted the Jedi's attention to discuss the incident.

    I broke from their numbers and went slowly for the ruins of the enclave. What were the implications of this new-found ability? Were the Jedi going to heavily depend on me in the dark times ahead?

    I came across the dead body of a young student in the landing bay. Familiar. I didn't now his name. In the courtyard I found First Circle acolytes chopped in half or dismembered. My stomach was queasy. Remarkably, most the plant-life in the central stone circle, including the proud Blbla tree, yet lived. Every Jedi in the area had at one time or another carefully pruned those branches and watered those vibrant flowers.

    Inside, a couple Jedi loaded the bodies of the injured but living onto stretchers and another pushed them down a hall for med-bay. I would come to help them, but after I checked on my would-be assassin. But when I arrived at the area, he was gone and I found only his severed arm and hand on the floor.

    "He escaped," a voice said. I looked up to see a woman with long white hair midway down the hall to my room. The hood of her cloak was down.

    I stepped cautiously for her to better see her face. "You're the double-agent."

    "And you are the mother of evil, according to the First Seer." She stayed in place, arms at her sides. Long-lashed and dark lids blinked relaxedly. She had an angular brow for a female, a long pointed nose, and a top lip thicker than the bottom. Frown lines and crow's feet gave away her age.

    "This is Miss Shan, 'eh?" A tall, hooded man appeared via holo-projection at the woman's shoulder.

    The all-too familiar man who I recognized from the Zabrak's memories, from my dreams, and. . . on newscasts detailing the Mandalorian War. "My colleague here told me some story about how you employed Battle Meditation to end the First Circle's aerial assault on the enclave. Impressive, for one so young."

    I was flattered, but there were pressing matters. "Did you subdue the First Seer before you came here?"

    "No," the woman said. "She is out of our reach. She will spend years traveling the galaxy to find servants. If she should rebuild the First Circle to its former strength, there will be new traitors in her ranks conspiring against her. That is the cycle of clandestine organizations."

    "That means I'll be paranoid that someone out there's trying to kill me."

    The semi-transparent man chuckled. "Congratulations. That means you're finally important." The holo vanished.

    The white-haired stranger started for me. I stepped aside and she passed me, turning the corner. "Wait." I went after her. A strange mist erupted from nowhere, following her, crawling up her body while she seemed to float over the floor and accelerate with gaining speed. Her silhouette faded.
     
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  3. metophlus

    metophlus Jedi Padawan star 2

    Registered:
    Jun 30, 2015
    Introduction to Part II

    In 1037, Chancellor Novo named Revan Supreme Commander of the Republic Navy. Revan and his armies of Jedi, pilots, and soldiers fought Mandalorian forces who by the week conquered rural Inner Rim worlds. The Republic defenders won repeated victories at heavy cost to the galaxy, consuming resources and lives, but forced the Mandalorians to pay the worst. The war culminated at the Battle of Malachor V, where thousands on both sides perished in a single blast. But Revan had decimated Mandalore's military, sending that warrior culture to the brink of extinction.

    Three years passed of economical turmoil. Citizens created guilds or communes in which to divide resources, but those groups often fought each other in deadly skirmishes upon the same worlds once occupied by Mandalorians but then saved by Revanites. Extremists, embittered by poverty, assassinated politicians on a basis reaching frequent, throwing the Senate off balance. The Jedi Order prioritized peace-keeping missions to these shattered worlds, for many Senate diplomats had gone into isolation for fear of their lives while the Republic Military struggled to rebuild.

    In 1040, the former hero of the Republic, Revan, returned as Darth Revan with Darth Malak as his right hand. The Sith Lords, commanding fleets derived from some mysterious source, swept across the galaxy on a war of conquest greater than any history had known to that point. Republic citizens felt a collective shock of betrayal. Jedi, Senators, and Admirals called these victims to unity and from the rubble of one war rose a new Military willing to resist the swelling enemy army. Malak recruited wayward youth, fugitives, lowly thugs, the scum of society. He trained them quickly en masse, gave them armor and weapons, labeled them "Sith", and sent them to battle.

    Revan coordinated his pieces with proficiency and closed in on Coruscant, capital jewel, destroying or even hijacking our best vessels in the system's military blockade.

    I, Bastila Shan, aboard a Hammerhead-class cruiser over Coruscant, employed Battle Meditation to rally and manuevar the beseiged Republic command carriers and fighters. We ravaged the Sith fleet. Their flagship The Leviathan fled.

    But the state of the Jedi Order and the Republic Military was desperate. Scouts reported that Revan gathered new forces from the strange source. The High Council agreed that should he attack again, smarter and harsher than ever, he would be victorious. The Leviathan floated over Ord Mantell, intel said. This was likely our last chance to end the Sith Lords.

    The High Council put me in charge of a team and sent me to board the sinister flagship.
     
  4. Cushing's Admirer

    Cushing's Admirer Chosen One star 7

    Registered:
    Jun 8, 2006
    Entry I:

    I am not well-versed in this Era or with the concerned characters. Nor do I know the specifics of 'battle meditation' which strikes me as oxymoronic. However, I find your approach very interesting. What is a tooka, please? I have never liked the Jedi's extremely detached and disconnected manner regarding needing bonds with others or denying emotions. I hope Shan will be all right.
     
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  5. metophlus

    metophlus Jedi Padawan star 2

    Registered:
    Jun 30, 2015
    Isn't it cute?

    Thanks for stopping by, Cushy!
     
  6. Cushing's Admirer

    Cushing's Admirer Chosen One star 7

    Registered:
    Jun 8, 2006
    Oh, I has seen those. They is adorable! [face_love]

    Welcome. :) Thank you too.
     
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  7. Findswoman

    Findswoman Fanfic and Pancakes and Waffles Mod (in Pink) star 5 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Feb 27, 2014
    8: Finally some answers about the mysterious Zabrak! Yet again some questions, too: (1) he apparently did once have the power of normal speech, so how did he lose it? (2) Why could only Bastila get through his mental barrier? (More to it than just her talent, I'm sure.) And of course (3) what exactly is the First Circle and why do they specifically want to kill Bastila—but then one of their bigwigs (as I guess she must be) also finds it worthwhile to go personally to the Jedi enclave to "give he a philosophy lesson" and convince her to leave the Jedi for the Circle? Bastila seems like the type who might take her up on it, too! But this is just the beginning of this arc, after all, so I'm sure the answers will come. For now, things are off to a very intriguing start.

    "Light blinds those who walk in the deepest shadows": that makes a certain amount of sense.

    9: Really fascinating setting with these herdships, and it's interesting that they're used for tourism purposes as well as for ecological and nature-preservational ones. Kind of like a more zoo-like variation on the tropical greenhouses they have at botanical gardens, only in space. :cool: Poor, silly Vox having to swipe away that pesky primate at a critical juncture in his negotiations—one almost doesn't know whether to pity him or laugh at him (which is true of his character all around, in a way). There seems to be more to the strange near-seduction by the red-skinned fellow (who's apparently using some kind of pheromonal assist, à la the Falleen) than meets the eye: it's almost as if he knew about Bastila's specific tendency to let her guard down only when she's aroused; hopefully her lightsaber will get found soon. And the Revan broadcast introduces an interesting factor: besides Revan's own crusade to step in against the Mandalorians, we get to see that the Jedi aren't viewed unilaterally as perfect heroes by a substantial portion of the general public. Though gosh, even if their disapproval is justified, isn't it a little bullyish of them to take it out on a lone teenage padawan? At least she got away in quick order... whew!

    10: So, there's this mysterious person-shaped shadow rustling in the blbla trees during an important council meeting about Bastila's future, casting a veil of uncertainty over what would probably be a welcome second chance to Bastila—I like how you get that across. And this mysterious hint to return to Ambria is definitely a detail I'm going to file away in my head. The strained parting between Bastila and Vox made sense given that their differences are nowhere near mended yet (and maybe never will be); I wonder if someday she'll learn to be as proud to have had him as her master as he was to have had her as his padawan.

    This Revanchist recruiter is very charming and effective; it's no wonder he's won so many over. But Meetra's disapproval of Bastila's interest in THE SAME CAUSE AS HERS is a bit puzzling; I get that she wants her beloved to stay safe, but I wonder if there's more to it than that. [face_thinking] Wrenching moment of combined decision & farewell right under the gaze of those two masters; if that's not turning up the pressure on poor Basti, I don't know what is! And thus her final decision to stay feels like it might be a bit under duress...

    And goosebumps as the First Circle (also the name of a very interesting novel by Alexander Solzhenitsyn) returns for Bastila, and another hair-raising duel with a mysterious assailant! Will there be more of them...? (And is the First Seer someone who has already appeared in the official lore for this era?)
     
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  8. metophlus

    metophlus Jedi Padawan star 2

    Registered:
    Jun 30, 2015
    A doctor severed his vocal chords so that in the event Reps or Jedi captured and tortured him, he'd have a harder time divulging info. If he'd been successful and returned to the First Circle, the doc would've repaired the damage.

    He felt that she was vulnerable to the Dark Side and made the mistake of letting her in.

    The First Circle exists to subvert prophecies of war, genocide, or dystopia.

    The FC Council Member you mention was pursuing her own self-interests while trying to ultimately destroy the FC. More on that later! :)

    She does seem like the type, doesn't she?

    This tale could be viewed as one really long argument for Bastila Shan being the most Dark Side-resistant padawan we have ever seen in canon, second only to Luke Skywalker.

    She seems primed for the Dark Side the second you meet her on Taris, right? She has all the qualities of someone who's going to turn soon. She's prideful. She's impulsive. She doubts the Jedi dogma despite spouting it.

    It says something toward her resistance that she wasn't on the Dark Side already, even being so damn young.

    When Malak tortured her on the Star Forge and drove her to evil, keep in mind:

    1. The Star Forge amplifies the Dark Side.

    2. Malak is an EXPERT at what he does. Revan taught him how to break JEDI MASTERS in a few short HOURS. (See Atton Rand in KotOR 2 for further explanation.)

    3. It took a week.

    4. Her resolve as a "Sith" was fairly weak. She plays the part of a one-dimensional psycho to compensate for her lack of actual belief in the Sith teachings.

    (reply to be continued...)
     
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  9. metophlus

    metophlus Jedi Padawan star 2

    Registered:
    Jun 30, 2015
    *Nods* It was a fun setting!

    Ain't that the truth?

    The Zeltron had a lot of experience reading young women!

    You'll be pleased to know that my next WIP is about a hard-boiled detective who hunts a Falleen crime lord on Nar Shaddaa.

    She'll frown on that memory for the rest of her life. And be a bit warier of crowds during wartime. >_>

    Heartwarming thought. We'll see. :)

    Confession: Vox came so close to dying in Entry 10. It wasn't until the last minute that I rethought his fate.

    And likewise, I always thought there had to be more about Alek's recruitment on Dantooine than Bastila let on in the game.

    I reimagined this group from the KotOR comics:


    http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/First_WatchCircle

    The First Seer in my story is the rough equivalent of her:

    http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Q'Anilia

    Thanks for the review, Findswoman! @};-
     
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  10. Findswoman

    Findswoman Fanfic and Pancakes and Waffles Mod (in Pink) star 5 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Feb 27, 2014
    metophlus, you're most welcome, and thank you for the exhaustive and informative replies. Just to clarify a thing or two about my own experience with the Old Republic eras that might explain some of the things I said: (a) I haven't played KOTOR2 or read the KOTOR comics yet, so I only know bits and pieces about Meetra and nothing about Alek; and (b) I haven't yet gotten all the way to the end of KOTOR1, so there's a lot about the properties of the Star Forge and of what Malak was doing with it that I just wasn't aware of. But now I have a good reason to finish the one and start on some of the others, I guess! :D
     
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  11. Ewok Poet

    Ewok Poet Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Jul 31, 2014
    Eight

    Trying not to repeat anything Findswoman said, so...let's see what is there left.

    An alien anger clashed against my desire for power and we poured over into each other. Our two storms boiled, stirred together, became a sinister pleasure that the Sith and I both felt. - That was just great.

    The interrogation-turned-mind-possession scene was great. Nice contrast between Zabrak trying to lure Basti into his world through the only level of communication he appears to be capable of and Meetra saving the day. This, in some way, doubles that

    The scene where Basti is encircled by light is even better. Almost cinematic!


    Nine

    Vox's tentacle re-grows but his animosity towards Basti surfaces on and on again. Of course, he cannot allow her to become too proud, but sometime he is just annoying.

    Loved how you described the mood of the herdship, the way Ithorians deal with others and the difference their attitude makes in comparison with Vox's absolute and total lack of anything similar to charisma and Basti's restlessness.

    That threesome makeout party sure came out of nowhere and I still wonder if it was a trap of some sort. That said, would the concept of earthly"technical virginity" ever matter in the GFFA?

    And the ending was pretty scary. Sure the sentiment towards the Jedi is never 100% positive, but what did Basti do to end up bullied like this? Ugh.

    I'd split this chapter into three colours: first comes green, then red, then brownish-grey.


    Ten

    Oh, so this is the chapter of "had it coming for so long"? First Vox becoming fed up with everything, then Basti's uncertain future at the hands of the Council, then her eventual wish fullfillment with Meetra and, eventually, nearly everybody leaving to join the Revanchist. I did not even realise how many left until the empty bed scene.

    I can imagine that missing Meetra will just lead further to the dark side, as it did not look like just lust, they had a bond. With Revan inevitably turning to the dark side himself, it's only a matter of time.
     
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  12. Admiral Volshe

    Admiral Volshe Chosen One star 10

    Registered:
    Sep 2, 2012
    So...I finally sat down and really read this all!

    I don't have much to say other than I LOVE IT. This is really, really great. Bastila's voice remains clear and strong in every entry. Her personality is spot on.
    You also have a way of writing things simplistically, but somehow extremely poetically. Even though the chapters are fairly short, I feel as though I have read something breathtaking.

    I like the little liberties you took as well, they really make everything more realistic and tie everything together. It adds another element entirely!

    Looking forward to more of this! :)
     
  13. metophlus

    metophlus Jedi Padawan star 2

    Registered:
    Jun 30, 2015
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  14. metophlus

    metophlus Jedi Padawan star 2

    Registered:
    Jun 30, 2015
    Sure! ^_^

    a) Meetra is awesomesauce

    b) Alek's nickname is "Squint"

    The sad truth is that Malak wasn't doing much of anything except for bombing the crap out of places or sending his pawns to capture Bastila.

    He tried to kill her by destroying Taris. He later blows up the Dantooine enclave. (Why didn't he do that sooner? And why did he do such a piss-poor job of it?)

    He captures Bastila after working so hard throughout the game to do so, and corrupts her to the Dark Side. And what does he then do? He lets her face Revan in battle. Twice. Knowing about their bond. He throws his prized new apprentice -- whose Battle Meditation means his victory -- into a scenario that will most assuredly mean the end of his mastery over her. Be that through her death or her betraying him and siding with Revan.

    I guess you could say that an unsung property of the Star Forge is that it generates stupidity.
     
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  15. metophlus

    metophlus Jedi Padawan star 2

    Registered:
    Jun 30, 2015
    :)

    Thank you. I am flattered.

    I wanted to give that entry a "Prisoner of Azkaban" flavor.

    Basti would agree.

    *hugs*

    More often than not: If a guy's promiscuous, his friends give him high fives and he's a hotshot. If a girl's promiscuous, her friends and enemies hide "slut" cards up their sleeves.

    This rule is so ubiquitous in the real world that it speaks of the human condition rather than isolated cultural quirks.

    She did nothing to deserve that treatment.

    Many of those people were inebriated. And underneath their joviality: scared. Also, a crowd can turn into a mob disturbingly fast.

    Pretty. :)

    You don't know how right you are.
     
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  16. metophlus

    metophlus Jedi Padawan star 2

    Registered:
    Jun 30, 2015
    Entry Eleven

    I meditated on the bridge of a command ship, one of many in the fleet that periodically dropped out of hyperspace at the edge of the Bright Jewel system and headed for Ord Mantell. Every space-worthy warship in the Republic quickened to this pivotal battle of the Jedi Civil War.

    I sat at the end of a long polished platform in front of the bridge viewport. Officers and technicians worked at computer stations along the sides of the bridge in trenches. Six Jedi exited the lift far behind me. I heard the tap of their boots as they came closer, as well as felt through the Force their learned calm. Three were older than me and each had their padawan with them. Two padawans hid beads of terror at their centers, guarded by mantras echoing in their minds. I related to those two. The Jedi halted a yard away.

    Admiral Forn Dodonna, a human female and veteran of the Mandalorian Wars, clip-clopped up the side steps ahead and onto the platform, going to my front. "We've reached primary sensor range. As discussed before, you six and Bastila will join minds and do whatever it is you do to bolster the coordination of our forces. I'll alert you when we've found an opening to Darth Revan's flagship. Seven fighters are readied in aft docking bay, third level. Good luck."

    The planet Ord Mantell swelled to consume most the viewport. Legions of Revan's dreadnoughts stained the skies and far orbit of the mountainous and oceanic planet with its wispy clouds.

    Many ships with the same design as the Leviathan opened fire. Which one contained the Dark Lord? The bridge jerked. I saw laser cannons scorch the sides of another Hammerhead. Enemy fighters poured like black clouds from their carriers. Admiral Dodonna ordered the Republic fleet to fire a barrage of its own lasers. The two opposing sides exchanged a minutes-long storm of flashing bolts.
    Ships from both navies blasted apart and spewed fountains of lava-hot fire, consuming nearby units and littering space with debris. Then ally fighters were away. I closed my eyes. The six Jedi sat down and joined me. I focused on our side at large, while they exuded tranquility and mental healing at me when needed.

    The Republic disabled or destroyed a number of Sith dreadnoughts and frigates, wiped out many thousands of fighters. Our military experts and most advanced droids teamed together and profiled the micro-tactics of the still operational Sith command ships to pin-point Revan's location, if he yet survived. Revan randomly changed his tactics and behavioral patterns, making the task daunting, but even a military genius had to eventually return to what was familiar. The battle had lasted a solid hour when Admiral Dodonna hurried over and gave me the ID. We were winning in material by some twenty percent. But the Dark Side was growing stronger among the enemy.

    - - -

    I stabbed a Dark Jedi in his heart, pulled my blade up through his shoulder, and blocked a saber strike from another. Three of my remaining comrades were occupied with their own duels. Darth Revan, the hooded warrior in his distinct robes and ancient t-visored mask, activated his red lightsaber and turned to an armed Jedi who ran at him. The last of his Dark Jedi guard possessed more stamina and skill than any we had fought on the way through the flagship to the bridge. The foe managed to nick the fabric of my robes, then slice a flesh wound on my upper arm. I moved constantly, attacking and defending, and then. . .

    The entire chamber shook violently and an instant later a flaming hurricane shattered the viewport. I lost my footing. As I fell, every surface I saw vibrated to a blur and cracked apart. The sound of the blast fueled the tremor and fire roared as it grew and drained the air. My elbow smacked the deck. I rolled into a ball.

    "Come on." A hand patted my chest. "He's dead. We need to make a run for it." I sat up to see it was Pitch Erum, a Jedi with a scruffy beard and crew cut.

    A comm at his belt beeped. "Repeat --- Darth Malak opened --- betrayed Revan ---"

    I looked around. The bridge was burnt and broken. A force-field wavered over the huge gap left behind from the attack. Obscenely-bent corpses scattered the walkway, charred organs smeared floor and walls. Two other Jedi had lived, the second a young man whispering to the dead body of his master. One man lay sprawled face-down at the far end.

    The crippled vessel quaked, creaked, and groaned. The comm informed us that Malak maintained his treacherous bombardment.

    There was comedy to be found in the over-the-top destruction of this war. I had caught the best joke. I giggled like a little girl, threw my head back and laughed hysterically.

    "Great. You lost your frakkin' mind, too." Pitch grabbed me under the arm and pulled as he stood.
    I let him help me to my feet. But my good humor vanished quite suddenly. "Malak lives." I cleared my throat. "That means he'll return to that source to create another fleet." And he would destroy the Republic. Enslave civilization.

    The young padawan said a last goodbye to his master and darted past us for the exit.

    Pitch glanced at the boy then looked to me. "Do I need to pick you up 'n haul you outta here like a sacka grain?"

    I ran to the fallen Dark Lord, knelt down, and turned him over. The weight of his upper torso settled in my lap. Sweat dribbled down my back and I noted the temperature was rising. I took either side of the man's mask, slid it from his face, and set it down. I asked myself how a person who now looked so vulnerable and endearingly handsome could be capable of evil, but cast the question away and settled my palm on his forehead. I closed my eyes and reached my mind into the chasm where his spirit would normally reside. At first I felt a void and feared he was in fact dead. I searched through the dark, going deeper.

    A spark of life flickered.
     
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  17. metophlus

    metophlus Jedi Padawan star 2

    Registered:
    Jun 30, 2015
    Entry 11.5

    [MORNING. MY MISTRESS SITS IN AN ARMCHAIR BY THE WINDOW. TRAY IS ATTACHED TO THE ARMS OF THE CHAIR IN FRONT OF HER, A PLATE OF FOOD ON TOP. MOST THE FOOD IS CUT UP INTO FINE PIECES OR MASHED INTO SLUDGE, BECAUSE HER GUMS ARE ALMOST TOO SENSITIVE FOR CHEWING.]

    [SHE MAKES DISGUSTING NOISES AS SHE SLURPS SLOP FROM A SPOON. SOMEONE PLEASE DEACTIVATE ME.]

    BASTILA: "Book's nearly complete, my metallic friend."

    [SHE CHUCKLES AND ACCIDENTALLY SPILLS VEGETABLE JUICE ON HER BIB.]

    HK-47: "Argument. Do you truly intend to bore your readers to tears by covering every mundane detail of what transpired on those utterly-forgettable planets? They were hardly exciting in first person."

    [THE OLD BAG BURPS. A SECOND, LONGER BURP. SHE HAS GAS ON MOST MORNINGS. I BELIEVE THE CAF IS THE CULPRIT. SHE IGNORES ME WHEN I TELL HER TO DRINK LESS OF IT.]

    BASTILA: "Excuse me. Oh. How do you mean by mundane?"

    HK-47: "Continued. Our missions in the Jedi Civil War are well-documented. The T-3 astromech droid and I relinguished our records of those events to Jedi Archivists years ago, if you will remember. Historians also interviewed Revan's other meatbag allies for their accounts of the same period."

    BASTILA: "I suppose you're right that I could add little more."

    HK-47: "Reassuring statement. I am sure your meat-bag audience will appreciate you not straining their already limited attention spans."

    [MY MISTRESS FELL ASLEEP AFTER I SAID 'REASSURING STATEMENT'. HERE I AM, RELEGATED TO HER PERSONAL SERVANT WHEN I SHOULD BE OUT NEUTRALIZING TARGETS. KILLING. POW POW POW.]

    [FIVE MINUTES LATER. SHE SLOBBERS ON HERSELF AND SNORES. I CAN TAKE NO MORE OF THIS. I EXCLAIM HER NAME AS IF THERE IS A LIFE-THREATENING EMERGENCY.]

    BASTILA: "Yes? What?"

    HK-47: "Observation. Those events are common knowledge among the public. The holodrama Knights of the Galactic Republic was a critical and box office success a decade ago."

    [TWI'LEK MAID ENTERS AND TAKES HER PLATE. DESPITE THE MAID HAVING BEEN EMPLOYED HERE FOR A NUMBER OF MONTHS, THE MISTRESS ASKS FOR THE GIRL'S NAME. THE TWI'LEK TREATS MY MISTRESS LIKE AN INFANT, DEMEANING ME BY PROXY.]

    [TWI'LEK GIRL HELPS MISTRESS CHANGE FROM HER BATH ROBE INTO A DRESS. OH DEAR. THE DRESS IS LOW-CUT. SHE DOESN'T WEAR A BRA. THOSE DROOPING MILK BAGS REMIND ME THAT I MUST ASK MASTER TO INSTALL A SELF-DESTRUCT PROTOCOL.]

    [MISTRESS SITS DOWN IN CHAIR BY WINDOW. MAID LEAVES.]

    BASTILA: "The public records are accurate. . . to a point. Accurate right up. . . right up until Korriban."

    "Darth Malak kidnapped me aboard his flagship the Leviathan as my comrades escaped. The Dark Lord took me to the Star Forge where he tortured me for over a week, trying to seduce me to the Dark Side. I resisted his excruciating Force-lightning and nerve-wracking serums for long, long days. But I finally gave in to the Dark Side and became his apprentice."

    HK-47: "Criticism. You were a boring Jedi who would have made for an underwhelming Sith."

    "Note. Critics lambasted the performance of the actress who portrayed you in Knights of the Galactic Republic. But I do believe she, how do they put it. . . nailed your personality."

    BASTILA: "Moving on."

    "People thought of me as a powerful, but arrogant young padawan who fell to evil. They love the irony of that. They are attracted to the romance of the conclusion."

    HK-47: "Mockery. Malak turned out to be sexually dysfunctional. Please take me back to bed, master, and show me your dark power."

    BASTILA: "A redeemed Revan boarded the Star Forge, broke through the enemy ranks of Rakatan droids and Dark Jedi to reach me. Then we met as enemies and we passionately dueled. He won. I asked him to kill me, begged him. But he spared me and said how he yet believed in my good heart. We admitted our love for another and I returned to the light."

    "But the pivotal week for which the citizens of the galaxy remember Bastila Shan. . . it is fictitious."

    [SHE TAKES CANE FROM BESIDE CHAIR. WHIMPERS IN PAIN AS SHE STANDS.]

    "The Galactic Senate and Jedi Order rewrote that part of history. That's why I need to do this. I've lived with this secret for decade upon decade, helping the lie to grow, trying to cover up the truth. You know as well as I, HK-47, that once we landed on Korriban, the story diverged drastically. You showed the Archivists the recordings. T-3 showed them. Our crew went on to reveal the facts to hundreds, but. . . the Republic buried the last third of the tale. I helped them."
     
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  18. metophlus

    metophlus Jedi Padawan star 2

    Registered:
    Jun 30, 2015
    Entry Twelve

    As the tale goes, I brought a comatose Darth Revan to the Dantooine Enclave where the Jedi concocted a risky plan: suppress Revan's memories and implant in him the personality of a basic soldier. If we gained his trust, he may incrementally remember where the Sith were generating their fleets and tell us.

    Admiral Dodonna requested I take command of the capital ship Endar Spire. I accepted. She sent me on a patrol of shipping lanes where Sith interdictor cruisers frequently ambushed Republic carriers. I placed Stroud Solman aka Revan on the Spire and set out with a full complement. Twenty interdictors attacked us. I and my soldiers destroyed a dozen and the rest fled.

    Over the planet Taris, however, Sith flagship the Leviathan appeared and inflicted heavy damage on the Spire. I was forced to flee alone in an escape pod which crash-landed in the Undercity of Taris. Disoriented as I climbed out, I was met with scavengers who captured me and sold me as a slave to Brejik of the swoop gang the Black Vulkars. Brejik's men placed a neural-inhibitor collar on my neck and trapped me in a cage where I was displayed as prize for the winner of the next swoop race.

    Stroud turned out to be the victor. He'd escaped the burning Spire with Carth Onasi. Brejik wanted to keep me, though. Stroud and I defeated the gangsters. We rendezvoused with Carth Onasi and their companions, the sassy Twi'lek teenager Mission Vao and her Wookiee companion Zalbaar. We needed a way off the planet and through the Sith blockade.

    In a cantina we met a Mandalorian named Canderous Ordo who helped hatch a plot to find us all a ship, the Ebon Hawke. He took us as guests to the estate of criminal lord Davik. We killed mercenaries who blocked our path to the docking bay. The structure falling down around us and the ground quaking, we ran to the Ebon Hawke and escaped Taris. Darth Malak, aboard the orbiting Leviathan, had ordered the destruction of the entire planet.

    We took refuge on Dantooine where the Council deemed this Stroud Solman a Force-sensitive and began to train him. I helped to brandish his dueling skills and answer his questions of Jedi ideals, hoping to cement this new personality as dominant in his brain.

    Master Zhar Leston sent Stroud to deal with Juhani, a Cathar padawan who had fallen to the Dark Side and begun to taint the native wildlife with her evil. Stroud, Carth, and Canderous encountered packs of malicious Kath Hounds, slew them, and found Juhani. Stroud convinced her to turn away from the darkness and re-embrace the Jedi way, an impressive feat for an amnesiac Sith Lord. Leston promoted Stroud to padawan.

    The Council sent Stroud and I to an ancient temple where we fought Rakatan droids guarding a Star Map. The artifact indicated five other planets. We left on the Ebon Hawke to piece together the rest of the Star Map that would lead us to the Forge.

    Stroud chose first Kashyyyk. We entertained Wookiee crewmate Zalbaar's family drama in order to reach the forest floor, promising his clan brother that we'd deal with their rebellious father Freyyr. We met hermit and human Jedi Jolie Bendo who, in exchange for our expelling Zerka Corp's local occupation, led us to the Star Map at a Rakatan ruin. Stroud killed Freyyr against my orders. He had gone through the trouble of redeeming Juhani on Dantooine. What was his game?

    Secondly, we voyaged to Tatooine where, on our way through the spaceport Anchorhead we purchased the assassin droid HK-47. It was here that I reunited with my mother who'd been there on a treasure hunt. Stroud and I traversed vast deserts, fought hoards of Tusken Raiders, and found the Star Map in a Krayt Dragon cave. My father's remains lay in the same place. Stroud held me for a few moments.

    I hated Revan for his betrayal of the Republic, for everything he had done to civilians. I had admittedly left him to die on the Endar Spire, feeling proud to have rid the galaxy of his evil as I plummeted to Taris. The Living Force or fate or destiny or whatever. . . showed itself to be sadistic.

    We boarded the Ebon Hawke and set course for Korriban. After landing in Dreshdae, Stroud approached me in the cockpit where I co-piloted for Carth.

    - - -

    "What are your thoughts on this place?" Stroud was dressed in light combat armor, durable and stylized plates over major muscles, tough fabric underneath. His pants highlighted his shapely posterior... a distraction on missions. The man had short black hair, combed back and gelled, a spit-curl hanging down, and for his face a goatee which he trimmed every morning. His squared jaw and forehead, his prominent and angular features, gave him a sophisticatedly masculine though dangerous aura.

    "Korriban is the birth place of the Sith." I stood beside the co-pilot seat and faced Stroud, myself in a basic form-fitting but modest body suit. "There are secrets here best left buried."

    Carth Onasi rose from the pilot's chair. "The homeworld of the Sith isn't a place you want to spend any more time on than you have to." He was an honest soldier with an honest face, built body clothed in conservative military attire. Still a young man, his cynicism could spread across a lifetime. "I say we keep our profiles low and high-tail it off this rock ASAP."

    Stroud regarded Carth with a hint of amusement and turned to me. "Our vision revealed that the Map rests inside a tomb. Korriban is a world of tombs. We had best start, eh?"

    Carth clicked his tongue. "Won't some Sith recognize you, Bastila? You've been their prime target since this war started."

    "I should stay behind." I tapped my lower lip with an index finger. "Take Jolie and Juhani along, Stroud, if you will. They can provide you spiritual support when you feel the lure of the Dark Side." Korriban presented a real problem. The Sith would in fact recognize me and send repeated squadrons against our party until they captured me, but the heavy concentration of Dark Side energies on this planet may summon Darth Revan from within Stroud Solman. I needed to keep a close watch on him.

    "What if I should prefer to take Juhani and you, Bastila?" He put his hands behind his back and tilted his head to the side.

    "Did you hear what I said?" Carth sounded quite annoyed. "Her showing her face would compromise the mission."

    Stroud said, "Jolie has been a hermit for many years on Kashyyyk, outside the Jedi Order for longer than I've been alive. Where lectures are concerned, Bastila is better equipped than that crotchety man. And once in a while I do heed her wisdom." He winked at me.

    "Then we shall risk it."

    I locked myself in the crew quarters and stripped. During missions, we looted objects from our dead enemies we thought may be useful in the future. I pulled on the snug outfit of a Sith Assassin. We'd encountered a group of them back on Tatooine.

    Stroud and Juhani waited by the loading ramp.

    "Thank you," he said. "I know this must be frightening. But we have each other."

    I covered my head with the hood and my lower face with its mask. The ramp lowered.

    - - -

    We learned from a Sith guard that to enroll at the academy we would need to speak with Yuthura Ban at the cantina. Once there, we spotted a Twi'lek woman in a plain uniform standing in a corner. Juhani and I took seats while Stroud walked over and began speaking with Ban. I heard snatches of what was said as I watched them in my peripheral and stole glances. She evidently suspected him to hide a great power and wanted to learn more about him. They smiled and chuckled together. I grit my teeth.

    "All right." The man came over and sat down beside me. He lowered his voice. "We're in. I convinced the deputy that you are my slaves. While we're at the academy, you should both refer to me as master."

    Juhani, a feline humanoid, scratched at the fur of her face. "Should I dress in something more revealing?"

    Stroud smiled. "I was thinking bikinis for the both of you. A face veil for our friendly assassin, of course."

    I gently kicked him under the table. "Pfft. Now I understand why you wanted to bring us along. But we'll keep our current outfits, thank you."

    We exited the Dreshdae compound and, outside in the dry desert air, traveled down a ramp onto a dusty flat. Ahead, a bridge spanned over a canyon ravine to another flat fronting the academy entrance, a stone slab door sunken into a metallic wall which was built into a cliff. I looked to my left and saw dust like fog swirl across a vast scenery of table mountains and boulders. Though mid-day, the skies had a feeling of evening as sunlight burned at worn clouds. Ancient dark emotions pulsated at the heart of this planet, infecting the crust, the structures. . . and certainly the inhabitants.

    Inside the main chamber of the academy we stopped among several other new students. At the center stood a man with a bald, intricately-tattooed head and sleep-starved eyes. He introduced himself as the headmaster and told us that we would likely die in the trial ahead. He said that to become Sith, we would need to prove an impressive understanding of the Sith ways. Yuthura, the deputy, gave us a quick tour of the various wings. There were student quarters, a training room, and a dungeon where a suspension-field tube glowed next to a raised console.

    Later, our trio claimed an empty room and sat on the bed. "Watch and listen for missions of prestige that may take us to the tombs," Stroud whispered. "We'll find the Map eventually. If not within the next few days, then I'll speed up the process."

    Juhani and I accompanied him wherever he went in the academy. My first clue that something had gone awry with Stroud Solman came but an hour after we had arrived. He approached Headmaster Wynn and they spoke of ways to gain prestige. Stroud recited a poem. . . using a foreign language.




    I focused on my breath, staving off worry, as I followed my leader. He took us to the dungeon where a student at the console interrogated a prisoner.

    The boy turned a knob. The naked man in the suspension-field yelled as electricity wreathed his body for five seconds.

    "Where did you hide the stolen cache, Mandalorian? Tell me, damn it, or I'll turn this to full power and give you an agonizing death."

    "A Mandy, you say?" Stroud went to beside the student. "Allow me."

    "Think you can crack him? Best of luck." The boy moved to give him access to the console.

    Stroud spent a few minutes asking questions and turning knobs. The prisoner begged for the torture to stop, revealing the cache to be hidden under the deck plates of his ship.

    The student switched on his saber and smirked. "I'll be giving the information to Wynn."

    "Oh, I'm sure." Stroud flung out his hand and Force-pushed the boy into a wall, killing him. I sensed dread from Juhani. The Cathar looked at me, silently asking that we take action.

    I went to the man and put my mouth close to his ear. "You and I need to speak privately."

    "I have everything under control, dear." He gave me a reassuring smile, patted me on the back, and walked out of the chamber.

    "Come on," I said to Juhani. "It's only a matter of time before someone in authority here asks that I remove my mask and hood. Best that we meditate on our options."

    "What do you know that I do not?"

    I led her back to our quarters where we sat cross-legged on the bed and whispered conspiratorially. We decided we would wait for the right moment to confront him about his passive-aggressive hints that his memory had returned. Juhani left it to me to determine when that moment had come.

    Stroud appeared later that evening and said that Wynn had given us an opening to gain prestige. We were to enter the tomb of Marka Ragnos and destroy a malfunctioning droid there.

    "We have our excuse to wander the Valley of the Dark Lords." He took a small mirror and grooming tool from his pocket, as he always did prior to a major mission. "But we shall skip that Marka Ragnos business, if possible, and go straight to the Star Map."

    - - -


    Inside the last room of the tomb of long-dead Sith Lord Naga Sadow, a Star Map's arms opened and from its center popped a twinkling galaxy map that pointed to Kashyyyk, Tatooine, Korriban, the watery world Manaan, and a general region of outer space where waited the Star Forge itself. A disaster felled the Infinite Empire millenia ago and damaged the Maps. Over centuries the semi-sentient machines repaired themselves, interacting with the minds of those who found them. Revan and Malak. Revan again. They narrowed down the area where could be found the Forge by reading the residual thoughts subconsciously implanted by other Maps.

    I pulled off the disguise, high on my self-hatred and hatred for the man standing in front of the Star Map, his back turned at me.

    "How long have you known?" I held my saber-staff. Juhani beside me readied her weapon.

    "Since Taris. Since I saw you as Brejik's captive." His tone was matter-of-fact, confessional. He faced us. "Seeing that face of yours churns a man's baser aspects."

    "I owe you a chance at redemption," Juhani said. "You helped redeem me in the Grove. But..."

    "Did you redeem Juhani to gain favor with the Council?" I struggled to find my resolve in this demon-ridden dungeon. "Never mind that. Why did you bother going to the trouble taking us to the Maps when you already knew where to find the Forge?"

    "I did it for your sake, Bastila. To show you that a person can wield the Dark Side of the Force toward righteous goals. To show that we may exploit the Dark and Light as weapons and continue to live, whole in being." He spread his arms out wide. "Join me, both of you. Let us make this galaxy ours!"

    He had paid me a grave insult.

    Juhani argued, but my shock obscured the words.

    In my peripheral I saw shapes stretch, reach, and grow. When I looked straight at them, they stayed, having assumed the appearances of naked men and women who now gathered in the light of the Star Map. Only I could see them.

    I placed my shaking hands over my face and tried to meditate. But the urge to end Darth Revan, once and for all, competed with my habits as a Jedi.

    'Her power shall put ours to shame. . .'

    'She is too meek. . .'

    'If only our hearts beat in this Age of the Dark Side. . .'

    "Tell me," Revan said. "Have I set a prime example for you?"

    I lowered my hands. "This is for Meetra Surik." I broke the shields over my soul. Apocalyptic hatred for Revan, for the Jedi and for the Sith, exploded forth and polluted my cells. "The woman you caused to be the Exile. The woman you took from me."

    "Bastila, please." Juhani carefully approached me, radiating a pseudo-calm stirred with her personal sense of fear and sadness. "Don't do this. Let me help you settle your emotions."

    Revan showed me his palms and shook his head. "Yes, please, Bastila. Let us peacefully discuss ---"

    Beyond tolerating a lecture, far past the point when I would have anyone else but myself tell me how I should live my life, I pressed the activator on my staff, jumped at Revan and struck out of rage.

    The Jedi had wasted my life. The Jedi had wasted my childhood, they had wasted my teenage years, they had tried in all their holier-than-thou might to squander my humanity, my very womanhood. I would annihilate the man who had robbed me of Meetra, given her up to a tragic event that moved her ever further from my reach.

    Juhani escaped while she could. The ceiling cracked, the floor heaved.

    Revan and I fought with lightsabers and Force powers as the structure quaked around us. Long-slumbering spirits awoke in the stone walls of Naga Sadow's tomb and wailed their grudges.

    We ultimately faced each other outside at the edge of a cliff, pausing. A storm, answering my emotions, struck with supernatural lightning this place where the Dark Side concentrated so, blasted apart piece by giant chunk the Valley of the Dark Lords.

    I raised my saber and zoomed at him with the speed of a comet. We collided, were knocked apart, then we reunited for the final stage. We exchanged a series of strikes that ended with him chopping my lightsaber in half. I leaned back from his next attack, dropping the pieces. I summoned Force Gauntlets, the same technique Vox Aben had used against our enemy on Dantooine.

    Another series of blows. I deflected his blue saber blade with one construct and attacked using the other, again and again, faster and faster, until. . .

    I shoved my hand through Revan's torso.

    He doubled over, made choking noises, and dropped his weapon.

    I yanked out and swung my other hand at his neck, decapitating him.

    It was done. The inevitable had happened. I had wielded the power of the Dark Side, the strength bestowed by focused anger. The Jedi taught children from a young age to suppress their darker emotions and temper their instinctual desires. The Jedi feared themselves, what they were capable of. They feared me.

    My pupils burned. Veins in my face rose and throbbed under my skin. Rage had given me new strength, a fresh resolve.

    I sat cross-legged atop an outcrop overlooking the Valley of the Dark Lords and privately watched students scramble about in confusion, listened to their endless questions and speculation as to what had laid waste to Naga Sadow's tomb. A ship took off from Dreshdae. The Ebon Hawke.

    It was dawn when I decided on a plan. I slid down a face of slick stone, jumped out into the open and strode for the academy entrance. Stray would-be Sith balked, gawked, asked my identity or purpose. They would find out soon.

    I stopped a dozen meters from the stone slab portal where stood chrome-armored guards. "Retrieve your Headmaster and his Deputy. Tell them a woman at their front door claims to be responsible for the disaster." The guards hurried.

    A minute later, Uthar Wynn and Yuthura Ban passed the threshold and halted.

    "Who are you?" The tip of Yuthura's lekku writhed.

    "Wait," Uthar eased closer, smiling. "That face. I recognize you, young one. You are Darth Malak's most wanted Jedi padawan." The man reared back and laughed pleasantly. "Quite a bold move, for the great Bastila Shan to come here of all places. Indeed, quite risky for a Jedi. Such a bold risk. That is something more of the Sith. Or is that why you have requested to see me?" Students in their plain gray uniforms exited the building to encircle us and observe quietly.

    I placed my hands on my hips. "We have work to do, Headmaster. But first. . . a change of command's in order."

    Yuthura hissed. "Our archaeologists determined the tomb was destroyed from inside. There are only three people who could've gained access. Lord Malak, Uthar Wynn, or Revan. Lord Malak is continuing his campaign against the Republic, Uthar stands next to me, and Revan..."

    The onlookers began to whisper among themselves.

    Uthar said, "I received a priority message from Lord Malak a mere hour before the event. It seems. . ." He chuckled. "It seems Stroud Solman was in fact. . . none other than Revan."

    Students gasped, made surprised guttural sounds, then became a babbling chorus.

    I mentally elevated my Force signature, filling the area with echoes of my stored power. Static burst in distorting air. Stalking spirits giggled. The ground groaned. And to hint at my ability to manipulate hearts and minds, I released a cloud of abject horror toward those present. . . the weakest fell to their knees and cried out. The stronger drew lightsabers and killed the weak, out of duty.

    The Headmaster nodded to me. "If you please, milady, let us enter the academy where we can deliberate the future."

     
  19. metophlus

    metophlus Jedi Padawan star 2

    Registered:
    Jun 30, 2015
    "End Credits" Music



    Thanks for reading.
     
    Admiral Volshe likes this.
  20. Ewok Poet

    Ewok Poet Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Jul 31, 2014
    Entry Eleven

    So...battle meditation! Yay!

    That's one thing I can recognise, as fully understanding the rest of the chapter will probably require me to play the game, read the comics (easier at this point, with so much work ahead) or...something else.

    But if I am to make a rough guess...is this the light-side redemption of Revan?

    And the last two paragraphs are among the best descriptions in this whole novella.


    Entry 11.5

    This droid is a kriffslider. And I love, love him for it. Sure he will never make it to the droid heaven, but he is hilarious! :)

    Bastila's paliative care state reminds me of two different things that have absolutely nothing to do with this story - The Curious Case of Benjamin Button and 2001: A Space Oddysey. While HK's brutal and extremely cynical, the point would not be carried as well by somebody nicer. This was further strengthened by HK's observation of how the Twi'lek maiden behaves around Bastila.


    "Note. Critics lambasted the performance of the actress who portrayed you in Knights of the Galactic Republic. But I do believe she, how do they put it... nailed your personality."

    So meta! :D

    And a fustercluck at that! Did she...did she just imply that everything prior to this, sans the other HK chapter, was a legend, while the spoiled bit in the next chapter is the truth? At the same time, is that a result of her dementia?

    I may need a lot more caffeine before the final chapter. This is mad, mad, mad!
     
  21. bellatroll

    bellatroll Jedi Knight star 1

    Registered:
    Feb 21, 2013
    well that took a turn
     
  22. Findswoman

    Findswoman Fanfic and Pancakes and Waffles Mod (in Pink) star 5 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Feb 27, 2014
    Catching up!

    11: A riveting battle indeed, with Bastila doing double duty, shifting at a moments notice between battle meditation and hand-to-hand combat. The battle meditation with the other six Jedi forms an interesting counterpoint to the Ambria group meditation toward the beginning: back then Bastila was told to stay out, but here she is specifically ordered to join in. She's come a long way since those early chapters!

    And there, in the middle of all this is that endearingly crusty (!) Pitch Erum. It's fun to think of the Jedi Order once having room for a personality like that, since he's so try opposite of the dispassionate, straightlaced prequel-era Jedi. He kind of reminds me of the fly in that Emily Dickinson poem "I heard a fly buzz when I died"—a random, almost ridiculous figure who interposes himself at a very serious, life-and-death juncture. What will become of him, I wonder?

    My favorite moment is when Bastila probes Revan's spirit after the duel and finds that he's still alive, deep down. So very not what she expected at all, and it's time for some quick thinking! Just goosebumps there. And it's still an exciting cliffhanger even if we (or at least those of us who know KOTOR) know what is eventually going to happen.

    11.5: And here again is our faithful, long-suffering amanuensis, doing his best to keep things concise and to the point, and interspersing his signature commentary. :D Though for all the humor of the situation, there's some important serious stuff in this segment too. For one thing, there's the pathos of seeing Bastila in this decrepit condition, toothless and slovenly and with somewhat... unstable insides, though her personality has lost none of its sharpness. For another, I do rather agree with HK when he says his mistress would have made an underwhelming Sith. But most importantly, there's the very intriguing suggestion that the story we know may not be the whole truth. Meaning... another cool cliffhanger! :D

    (Point of curiosity: were there hints in any of the official literature that Malak was trying seduce Bastila sexually, too? I don't think I caught any such overtones in the game, but I don't know what's in the comics and such.)

    12: One thing I find particularly neat about this chapter is that we're getting glimpses of your own experience as a player of KOTOR: the name of your player character, the first planet you went to, your choice of whom to bring along to Korriban (does something different happen depending on which Jedi you bring with you there?), etc. Another is that we're getting to see the events of the KOTOR story from the viewpoint of a non-player character, which is a paradigm shift one doesn't get every day.

    But then what happens in that tomb of course demonstrates what Bastila hints at in 11.5 about the story being different from what everyone knows... I have to say, I'm still trying to process it all! For example, it completely changes my impression of who "master" in the ".5" segments must be, because in this AU it looks like Revan doesn't live and maybe his role is taken on by Bastila herself—am I anywhere close? I almost wonder if I might presume to ask for just one more ".5" segment with HK might add an extra smidge of clarity to the situation? [face_batting]
     
  23. Ewok Poet

    Ewok Poet Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Jul 31, 2014
    I support the spoilered request. Because I did and there was no try etc etc.
     
  24. metophlus

    metophlus Jedi Padawan star 2

    Registered:
    Jun 30, 2015
    I was angry and wanted to be done with this when I wrote the ending.

    As we came closer to the events of KotOR, I lamented that I'd have to hand Bastila over to one of the lamest, sorriest villains in the history of fiction... to be tortured and corrupted. I am willing to let terrible things befall her, but I have standards. Darth Malak hadn't earned that, and I wasn't about to develop him enough to earn it. He sucks and there is nothing to be done for it.

    You can argue the MC here transformed into a different version than was in the game. I would agree. And that made it worse. Call me deluded, egotistical, whatever, but I'm impartial toward the Bastila of the autobiography.

    This ending was my middle finger to BioWare and Knights of the Old Republic. In retrospect... after a lot of soul-searching... I believe the first game kinda sucks, but with a few memorable characters.

    There were many, many ways I could've approached the conclusion while avoiding the worst of the game's storyline, but through a convoluted string of events and my own immaturity and laziness, we ended up there.

    I hope that helps onlookers comprehend me a little better. Anyway, I'll write another chapter to inject sense into the story itself.
     
  25. metophlus

    metophlus Jedi Padawan star 2

    Registered:
    Jun 30, 2015
    I have failed somewhere, if the reader is required to study extracurricular media to understand the plot.

    It was supposed to be. Maybe it should've been.

    Those were regular paragraphs to me, but thanks!

    HK-47: "Confession. The day an Ewok beats me in a poetry slam is the same day I blast my own behavioral core."

    *Nods* He's a great outlet for a writer's bitterness.

    Her dementia complicates her effort to be accurate, yeah. As do her personality flaws. She's an unreliable narrator, I'll just say that.

    It is mad. we are all mad.

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