[fic] The Missing Number

[Bee Hoon]

A/N: I don't know how this story got so long, so don't ask:P I was tempted at the last minute to chuck this and write a new one, but hey, I'm too lazy to wring another tale out of this brain of mine. I hope you enjoy!

 

P.S. Excuse the name's obvious nod to Mass Effect. Initially, the old draft had Alex, but Devon laughed until his bum fell off and rolled around sheepishly. And as usual, I'm too lazy to really think of a nice new one.

 

P.P.S. Zomg tapirs! Malayan ones!

 

* * *

Prologue

 

He came to her as she was packing. 24 hours, the Council had said. She was rummaging through her drawer, and she ignored him. He couldn’t tell whether it was because of what had transpired in the Council chambers, or simply because she couldn’t sense him there.

 

She extended her arm and turned to face him. A pair of spectacles dangled from her fingers. “Think they’ll let me keep this?” He plucked it from her grip and settled it on her face clumsily. She blinked as he did so, and smiled a little.

 

He would regret not taking her hand and kissing it.

 

She pressed an envelope into his hands. “Would you give this to Revan? When the time is right?”

 

The master’s voice was hoarse. “He may never return.”

 

“I know. I just…Never mind. Just promise me that you will.” She was pinning him down with those dark eyes.

 

“You are aware that this probably breaks some obscure rule somewhere?”

 

She smiled wryly. “Let me know if you ever find it.”

 

He could never say no to her.

 

“Goodbye, Kavar. Take care.”

 

And she was gone, but for a beautiful bespectacled memory.

 

* * *

Five years later

 

“Revan.” The child’s voice was so sweet.

 

A small hand squeezed mine.

 

I wake up with a start. I pull the blanket tight around me, telling myself, no, I’m not Revan anymore. I am Kaidan Dranar now. Pressing my eyes shut, I force myself to lie still when Bastila stirs next to me.

 

I wish I could fall asleep and not be plagued by these dreams. I don’t want to remember. I don’t want to go back to being that monster. I just want to live as I am now, with my false but happy memories, and adding real, tangible memories to my collection.

 

“Look who’s here to see you.” The master smiled kindly as she broke away from her grip and flung herself at me.

 

“Revan!” A small pair of arms fastens itself around my waist.

 

She looks up at me and smiles. She’s grown since I last saw her, but I have too. I pick her up easily and whirl her around, and the sound of her laughter echoes off the marble walls.

 

The master ruffles my hair. “Mind you, the five-year-olds have lightsaber training with Master Vandar at 1100 so you’ve got a couple of hours to yourselves. Make sure that she’s on time for her class. Off you go, you little rogues.”

 

I wake again, and I’m not sure whether that is a good thing. The room is still dark, and Bastila’s deep and even breaths tell me that she is resting in peaceful slumber as usual. She never did understand what it was like to walk in restless dreams.

 

I sit up in the dark, taking care to not wake her. Who is that girl who haunts me? What does she look like? I struggle to recall her face…Dark hair framing a mischievous grin. And… It’s passed beyond that veil between dreams and the waking.

 

Bastila wakes up slowly. Her eyes still heavy with slumber, she leans over and kisses me on the mouth with those full soft lips. “What’s wrong, Kaidan?”

 

The name sounds so alien. Like she is calling another man, not the one sitting here in the dark, cold air caressing my bare skin, while I tuck my toes into the blanket but let the chill shock the rest of me into wakefulness.

 

But I am Kaidan, right?

 

I suddenly feel so tired, so alone. Even Bastila’s warmth and the bond wrapping me securely in her love can’t stop this feeling.

 

“I don’t know, Bas. I just don’t know.”

 

* * *

 

I’m not sure what I was expecting, but I tensed when he opened the door. Blue eyes registered surprise, which turned to resignation within the space of a heartbeat. That in turn faded as he composed himself. We sized each other up, with only the achingly familiar sound of running water in the background. It grew to a roar, carrying snatches of memory with it, tumbling along in the currents of incoherence.

 

Stop being mean to me!

 

Or what?

 

Or I’ll tell Master Vandar and he’ll make you…

 

“…scrub every single fountain. All one thousand of them.” I gasped. That’s what she always threatened me with.

 

“Revan!” I lifted my head dully; already I was responding to the name.

 

“You’d better come in,” he said calmly. I did so, and old instincts made me scan his room. It contained one bed, one cupboard, one desk, one chair and one terminal. The desk’s surface was completely bare.

 

“Master Kavar,” I said. There was a photograph in the records, and I knew it was him, but a perverse part of me wanted to make sure. Seeing him did not trigger any revelations, which I had expected. The music of the fountains had though, and that irritated me.

 

He inclined his head “Yes.”

 

I waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. I slowly rebuilt the walls around my mind in the quiet, inwardly cursing my loss of control. Finally, he broke the silence. “Why are you here, Revan?”

 

“I trained here.” Our eyes met, and again, there was that invisible tension. I could not remember the reason for it, only that it had been there for years.

 

“You did.”

 

“My I.D. number was C97568.” He shrugged in response, and I pulled a datapad from my pocket and tossed it onto his bed. “I checked. I also noted that there was a missing entry in the archives. C97645.”

 

Abruptly, he turned away. I caught the faintest hint of pain from him. He must have suppressed it with the ease that comes only with practice. He asked tersely, “And?”

 

“I need to see who it is.” I felt that gnawing ache again, screaming at me to remember…what? Who? She remained nameless, faceless. Just an impression of dark eyes, dark hair and tinkling laughter.

 

He laughed mirthlessly. “You need to? Tell me the truth, Revan. How much do you remember?”

 

“Not enough.” It was true. I couldn’t remember the important things; why I had gone to war. Why I had sought out the Star Forge. The Council gave me their own explanations, filtered through prejudice and narrow-mindedness. None of it resonated with the truth locked within my own mind.

 

He said quietly, “The Council fears for you.”

 

“They fear the truth.”

 

“They fear that it will drive you down the same path.” He regarded me with knitted brows.

 

“I have to know.”

 

“Why?” The question is short and sharp. I can’t answer. Not logically.

 

Because…

 

It is market day on Dantooine. I glimpse her in the crowd, and my heart stops. I feel my chest constricting as I push past people heedlessly, trying to catch sight of her. She turns, and an unfamiliar face looks at me, wide-eyed with apprehension. It is not her. The world goes very still, and I almost hear her speaking to me. And then the cacophony of voices breaks through, and she is gone.

 

“Where is she? What did they do to her?” my voice is surprisingly level, although every word is edged.

 

“It is known only to the Council members who were present at her hearing.”

 

“Why is she the Council’s dirty little secret?”

 

Kavar exhaled through his teeth loudly. A vein pulsed visibly in his forehead. Without saying anything, he went to the terminal. He dragged the chair into position roughly and began typing. Within seconds, he was flicking through the records, and a quick search brings up C97645. It took a moment for the page to load, and I swallowed hard.

 

The photograph was the first thing which caught my eye. She was trying very hard to smile, which only made her look positively rabid. That was all I managed to see before Kavar scrolled down. The last line of the profile was:

 

Status: Exiled

 

I could have laughed. They exiled her, and decided to keep me instead. After all, everyone needs a former Dark Lord of the Sith around. We do plumbing too.

 

At the end of the page, there a note:

 

Her connection to the force has been severed.

 

“You…you did this to her?” My heart was pounding, but there was no rush of memories. Not from these sparse words, incapable of breathing life into a half-remembered ghost.

 

“No. We did not.” He opened his mouth to continue, but decided not to. He pushed the chair backwards, and the durasteel scraped on the ground painfully. He opened the top drawer of the desk. It was completely empty except for a single envelope which he removed. For a long moment, he stared hard at it, and he pressed his lips together tightly. With a jerky motion, he handed it to me. “Take it. She asked that you read this when the time was right.”

 

It had only my first name written on it in an untidy script. Revan. Revan Revan Revan. That was how she said my name.

 

Kavar put his head in his hands. “I think you should leave now. Goodbye, Revan.”

 

* * *

 

I was already preparing myself when I realized that Bastila was still on Dantooine. I let myself relax, and shook out my limbs to loosen the tension in them.

 

That said a lot about us, didn’t it?

 

Sitting on the bed, I opened the envelope gingerly. It had been years since I had touched paper. I think. I can’t really say whether that was an implanted memory.

 

It contained two separate pages, and I began reading the first one. It dated back to just before the Mandalorian War.

 

Revan,

 

I don’t really know why I’m writing to you, and on paper of all things (it’s just so archaic!). Some might argue that it is the will of the Force, but if the Force is so bloody clever, it can jolly well move the pen for me!

 

I ran a finger over the smudged squiggle which followed that paragraph and snorted.

 

Okay, the Force has had its say, so it’s my turn.

 

I’m afraid. I can’t see where we are going. Would you believe it if I told you that nothing in my life has surprised me yet? I wasn’t surprised when the Jedi turned up at my family home. I wasn’t surprised when I was transferred to Dantooine.

 

But now we’re hurtling towards an insane war, and my heart—or the Force—is silent. I can see nothing of what happens after the war, and I’m terrified.

 

The letter ends there; it was probably just a draft. I didn’t remember anything. She had never mentioned it. Had she?

 

I turned to the second page. Her handwriting had changed—it became messier, a spidery shorthand undulating across the page. It was dated to just after the Mandalorian War.

 

Revan,

 

I was packing, and I found the attached draft. I’m including it because…well, because now I understand why I wrote it. And on paper too; that makes it seem somehow immutable.

 

I don’t really know where this is going, so don’t mind me rambling. I’m afraid I won’t be able to blame the Force for that anymore, but I’ll find a suitable excuse as soon as possible.

 

Do you remember that time when we went to the zoo on Coruscant? You were already a Knight, and I was still a Padawan. We saw these peculiar non-sentient animals called tapirs, with those strange elongated noses. You said if the whole galaxy was suddenly transformed into tapirs, it would be worth it, just to see what a tapir’s version of my button nose looked like. Do you remember what I said?

 

You said that you’d hide your nose under my big tapir nose, and then I wouldn’t be able to laugh at your little tapir nose. I said that I would hold noses with you.

 

She had hesitated after that, attempting to start numerous times before blotting out whatever she had written, creating a dreadful mass of smudges and arrows to show me where to read next. There were spots where the paper seemed to have stretched—tear stains. She had cried alone and in silence. Just tears coursing down her cheeks as she stared hard at the letter, trying to reach out to me across the years.

 

You fell, and I wasn’t there. But that’s why you kept pushing me away, isn’t it?

 

Now, you’re gone, and a full third of the fleet is with you. None of them were at Malachor V. You weren’t at Malachor V.

 

I was.

 

I was bait as well.

 

They say that you’re planning something. I know you are. I know you will conquer the Republic at any cost, but I don’t know why. There was fear in your eyes. I had never seen that, not in you. What were you afraid of?

 

You didn’t give me the chance to say goodbye.

 

I make the movements of faith now, as one who learned it by staring into the eyes of impossibility and learning to dance upon the strength of absurdity. You understand, don’t you?

 

Maybe someday, this will find its way into your hands. Maybe someday, you’ll find that there’s someone else in the place where I was once was. Maybe someday, I won’t miss you anymore. Maybe someday, I won’t want you to carry me home. Maybe someday, I’ll finally understand why you did…everything.

 

And here’s the absurd part: maybe someday, we will meet again, and we will still be in love.

 

Goodbye, Revan.

 

It took strange circumstances to bring me to this point, but I can finally say this:

 

With all my love,

Lei

 

* * *

 

Epilogue

 

“Then why don’t you just leave?” Bastila shrieked, voice rough with tears and anger. As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew it was precisely the wrong thing to say. Kaidan—Revan stood up and walked away.

 

She hurled herself at him before he had taken three steps, arms encircling his waist and pressing her face into his back, feeling the ridges of his spine dig into her cheek. He was very still, and she cried a little harder for it, that he would not show her what he was really feeling, or perhaps he was feeling…nothing.

 

“St-stay. Pl-please. I don’t care if you don’t love me, or you don’t care for me at all. Just don’t leave me. Don’t,” she was utterly humiliated, but she said it anyway. She burned the last scraps of her pride and tore the words from the part of her that needed him.

 

Firm hands disentangled her interlaced fingers and removed her grip from around his waist. He was too strong for her, as always. Too strong to remember the person he had been—the one who had loved her.

 

“I am sorry.” His voice was flat.

 

“Is that all you can say?” she demanded, trying to pull her wrists free of his grasp.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Why are you leaving? It’s not just me, is it? I know it isn’t. I know you.”

 

Something flickered oddly in his hazel eyes. “No. It’s not you.”

 

“Why? Tell me the truth.” She looked up at him, and he met her eyes with his own steady gaze. When he said nothing, she added, “You owe me that much.”

 

“I learned something.”

 

He finally released her wrists, and she hugged herself. She asked dully, “What?”

 

“Something which I never truly forgot.” He paused, and she stared at him, mute and paralysed with pain.

 

“Goodbye.”

 

The door swung shut as she whispered one last time, “Don’t go.” It was lost in the wind rustling through the grass, in the roar of a ship’s engine, and in the sound of a breaking heart.

[The_Catto]

Wow.

 

Really well written, Bee. I enjoyed it a lot.

The decision for Revan leaving came really avrupt and unexpected. I like it.

 

What was even more unexpected was Bastila's reaction. I never really thought of her that way before. Having thrown herself into Revan to try and hold him back. Really says a lot about how much she truly loved him.

 

PS: [QOUTE]Originally said by Bee Hoon:

After all, everyone needs a former Dark Lord of the Sith around. We do plumbing too. [/QOUTE]

[igyman]

Very nice, Bee. A good take on why Revan disappeared before the events of KoTOR 2. I especially liked the letter, it showed so much emotion and even the rambling pars made perfect sense.

[Bee Hoon]

Thanks so much for the kind comments!

[Tysyacha]

Revan and the Exile in love! Finally, my kind of story!!! This is incredibly well-written and will get one of two of my official votes for this contest. 9/10. You rock as a writer!!!

[Bee Hoon]

Thanks! Yay Revan and Exile <3 Makes me feel bad for Atton, but what the hey:P

[Marius Fett]

This is a really nice fic Bee!

 

Very well written.

[Rev7]

Yes, well done. I thoroughly enjoyed it.

[Bee Hoon]

Thanks guys!

[mur'phon]

Nice one, particularly liked the letters, and tapirs:P. And, as usuall your writing from a kids/youngsters perspective is stellar. Second best imo this round.

[Bee Hoon]

Yay tapirs! Well, she wasn't all *that* young when she wrote the letters! Hehe, I'll settle for second best...for now;) *is kiasu Asian*

 

P.S. Kiasu= literally 'scared to lose'