[fic] Shreds of a Dying Belief

[Bee Hoon]

A/N: First off, many thanks to Sabretooth who is the most awesomesauce beta ever <3 I can't possibly tell you how helpful it is to give him a katana and let him loose Besides that, thanks to Emperor Devon and Rogue Nine for their encouragement ^.^

 

Zomgbbq it took FOREVER to choose the title so I hope you like it. Sabre and I are going nuts anyway Enjoy!

 

Prologue

 

The security officer hailed the large speeder and it pulled over. The driver deactivated the force shields and asked, “Any problem, sir?”

 

He flung his lekku over his shoulders and sighed irritably. “Just a routine check on a routine night. Open up the back as well. I need to have a look.” He scrawled the licence plate number on his datapad and strolled to the back of the speeder. His eyes widened when he saw who the occupant was. “Pardon me, sir. I wasn’t aware that this was your vehicle.”

 

The human in the sombre suit nodded. “It doesn’t matter. Carry on, officer.”

 

He scribbled a note and discreetly eyed the girl next to the politician. His lip curled with distaste—she was young enough to be his daughter. A second glance revealed that she was, in fact, his daughter.

 

That couldn’t change things.

 

He pulled out the blaster pistol and shot the politician in the head. The girl’s screams didn’t distract him from dispatching the bodyguard with another well-aimed shot. The assassin turned to the girl who was weeping over her father’s body.

 

“You should run,” he said quietly.

 

She turned on him instead, attacking him with all the passion of a Sith. “You schutta! I’ll kill you!”

 

He didn’t pull the trigger, but he did club her with the pistol’s butt. She fell clumsily on the gravel, vision wavering and ears ringing. Pushing herself off the ground, she rose unsteadily but slumped back down. The assassin crouched down and grasped her chin roughly between gloved fingers, bringing her face close to his.

 

“You will remember nothing of tonight.”

 

“L-like hell I won’t” she spat, voice slurred and rasping painfully. “I’ll get you. He’s a good man. Shouldn’t die like this.”

 

The assassin sounded almost amused. “Your father was going to lead your planet to war. Now he will not.” His next words rang with command, sending ripples across her mind. “You will forget everything that happened tonight.”

 

She struggled to remember why she was here, why this stranger was holding her; it was almost intimate, she thought drowsily. But he let go and she was sinking, sinking deeper and deeper into the dark murk.

 

He shot her in the shoulder, taking care to make the wound a non-debilitating one. Efficiently, he stripped them of valuables. Ducking behind the patrol speeder, he removed the uniform and changed into nondescript clothes. He decided not to frame the unconscious officers—no point in getting them executed. He drove the patrol speeder away from the site and left the two officers dozing in natural positions.

 

Before dawn, he was in his apartment. Pulling the mask off, he sighed as it came free. Splashing his face with water, he scrubbed vigorously to get the smell of latex out of his skin. Despite all the technology in the galaxy, no one had ever tried to make scentless latex and it vexed him greatly. However, it was a moot point as he had acquired the mask in Nar Shaddaa, and the sane did not choose to think too much about that. He rolled the lekku up neatly and turned the mask inside out over the lekku. The mask and the valuables were packed into a small and extremely heavy crate. It was lined with lead and emblazoned with warnings about explosives to discourage the unhealthily curious. Lugging it downstairs, he was relieved to see that his contact was already there. Soon, he was on a ship leaving the system, ignoring his fellow passengers who were discussing the murder.

 

Headphones blocked out the chatter, and he drifted off to the soulful music.

 

How much longer could he keep this up?

[JediAthos]

quite an interesting start Bee...you had me suckered to thinking it was just an ordinary traffic stop...nice job with that. I look forward to seeing where you take it form here.

[Rabish Bini]

Very nice prologue, though I'll admit, the main thing that drew me in was the title, sounds so dark and eerie, I really wish I could come up with titles that awesome...

 

Looking forward to Chap. 1

[Bee Hoon]

Thanks for the comments! I'm especially glad to hear about the title, because Sabre and I agonised over it for almost an entire day. At that point I would have gladly gone with the most boring and drab title if he would let me

[Sabretooth]

The Sabre is no ordinary beta, Bee. The Sabre is a beta auteur.

[Rogue Nine]

He flung his lekku over his shoulders and sighed irritably. “Just a routine check on a routine night. Open up the back as well. I need to have a look.” He scrawled the licence plate number in his datapad and strolled to the back of the speeder. His eyes widened when he saw who the occupant was. “Pardon me, sir. I wasn’t aware that this was your vehicle.”

- It's spelled license, or at least it is in America.

- I think you scrawl onto or on something, not in it.

- It's unclear as to who the last sentence is directed at. Going by the rest of the paragraph, the officer could still be talking to the driver instead of the person in the back.

 

The human in the sombre suit nodded. “It doesn’t matter. Carry on, officer.” He scribbled a note and discreetly eyed the girl next to the politician. His lip curled with distaste—she was young enough to be his daughter. A second glance revealed that she was, in fact, his daughter.

- I suggest starting a new paragraph from "He scribbled..." onwards, otherwise, it reads as if the human in the suit did the note scribbling and so forth.

- The last two sentences are confusing. Is the girl the politician's daughter, or the officer's daughter? Going by the last sentence, it reads as if it's the latter.

 

He pulled out the blaster pistol out and shot the politician in the head.

- You have one too many 'out's.

 

He didn’t pull the trigger, but he did club her with the pistol’s butt.

- Stylistically, I think it's awkward to phrase the last part this way. I suggest "the butt of his pistol".

 

Efficiently, he stripped them of valuables. Ducking behind the patrol speeder, he stripped off the uniform and changed into nondescript clothes.

- Using the same verb in consecutive sentences is a pet peeve of mine

 

Pulling the mask off, he sighed as it came free and splashed his face with water, scrubbing vigorously to get the smell of latex out of his skin.

- The mask came free, then splashed his face with water? I doubt that's what you mean, so you need to specify who or what did the splashing and scrubbing. It would make it much clearer if you separated this sentence into two.

 

Despite all the technology that they had, no one had ever tried to make scentless latex and it vexed him greatly.

- Who's "they"? In a story full of pronouns, introducing another one is going to be a bit confusing. I suggest "that had been invented".

 

Rolling the lekku up and turning the mask inside out over it, he packed it and the valuables into a small and extremely heavy crate.

- You use 'it' twice in the sentence and I think you're referring to two different things in each case. I had trouble understanding it, so I suggest a bit of tweaking in word usage.

 

Lugging it down, he was relieved to see that his contact was already there.

I suggest you specify "downstairs" if that's what you mean, otherwise I think the phrase reads awkwardly.

 

 

It's a pretty good start, though things are pretty vague with your extensive use of pronouns. I think that's your intent though, so I understand the need for vagueness.

[Bee Hoon]

The Sabre is no ordinary beta, Bee. The Sabre is a beta auteur.

<3

 

- It's spelled license, or at least it is in America.

- I think you scrawl onto or on something, not in it.

- It's unclear as to who the last sentence is directed at. Going by the rest of the paragraph, the officer could still be talking to the driver instead of the person in the back.

-I try to use UK English

-True! I shall amend that. But somehow "scrawled on" kills the datapad effect O_o I'm weird.

- Could still be, but I presumed that the change in the form of address was clear enough to indicate that he was talking to the passenger. Would spacing it out help?

 

- I suggest starting a new paragraph from "He scribbled..." onwards, otherwise, it reads as if the human in the suit did the note scribbling and so forth.

- The last two sentences are confusing. Is the girl the politician's daughter, or the officer's daughter? Going by the last sentence, it reads as if it's the latter.

-Good point. Fixed!

-It is the latter. The officer isn't that old, as you'll see later

 

- You have one too many 'out's.

*slaps head and fixes* Too much incomplete sentence restructuring, meh.

 

- Stylistically, I think it's awkward to phrase the last part this way. I suggest "the butt of his pistol".

-Fixed! I do prefer it that way, but have been trying to be less verbose. Nice to know there's people who like me being wordy

 

- Using the same verb in consecutive sentences is a pet peeve of mine

It annoys me too. I can't believe I didn't spot that >.< I'll have to reread everything and make sure I didn't do dumb things like that.

 

- The mask came free, then splashed his face with water? I doubt that's what you mean, so you need to specify who or what did the splashing and scrubbing. It would make it much clearer if you separated this sentence into two.

DON'T JUDGE HIS POWERS OF H2O PRODUCTION! Just kidding Shall clarify it now.

 

- Who's "they"? In a story full of pronouns, introducing another one is going to be a bit confusing. I suggest "that had been invented".

-That's true. Amended, but to something else

 

- You use 'it' twice in the sentence and I think you're referring to two different things in each case. I had trouble understanding it, so I suggest a bit of tweaking in word usage.

Tweaked! Better?

 

I suggest you specify "downstairs" if that's what you mean, otherwise I think the phrase reads awkwardly.

I changed it to downstairs, but not sure how else to streamline it besides going into a long and boring bit detailing how he got off the planet Any ideas?

 

Yep, it was intended to be vague, though I had hoped that I could avoid the resulting side effect of confusion! D: Thanks so much for the review! <3 I'll give you lollies if we ever meet in RL

[Bee Hoon]

Chapter One

Part One:Jabberwillenglock

 

Revan threw an arm over his eyes as the sky brightened. Shiny new shoes clicked sharply against the ferrocrete as happy, productive members of society went to work. He groped blindly for his bottle and raised his head a little; just enough to take a swig from it without choking. Running a hand over his cheeks, he wearily noted that his stubble was rapidly turning into a beard. He had been sleeping on the park bench for a week, and was well acquainted with every rough slat. The weather had been kind (if rain could be considered kind), although it didn’t do anything for his body odour. He was glad that he couldn’t smell himself, judging by the way people wrinkled their noses or flinched when he approached.

 

The portly policeman was vacating the occupants of other benches, which was all he ever did. It was a good thing that the homeless gravitated towards this park, Revan thought sourly. They gave him a wonderful excuse to loiter around the Core. Looking out of the window surely warmed the cockles of every politician’s heart. Ah, the poor bums, a sure sign of the planet’s prosperity. We must be doing something right.

 

He rolled off the bench and shuffled off before the policeman could shoo him, tipping his hat ironically at the pasty-faced man who spat disdainfully when he passed. Every muscle of his was protesting the thought of another day spent slouching against the marble façade of the Core, or Force forbid, another night on the bench.

 

The rumbling of his stomach reminded him that he had not eaten in two days, and he dug a sandwich out of an inner pocket, absent-mindedly peeling off the damp paper. He made his way to the back of the Core, clutching his sandwich. The others were gathering, and there were murmurs of discontent and envious looks when they saw that he had food. Ignoring them, he took up his usual post with his back against the cold stone, squatting in a vain attempt to appease his aching body. He ate the sandwich slowly, taking small bites and chewing carefully.

 

“-ngh he’s all jabberwillenglock.”

 

“It’s a conspiracy! It’s a bomb! Tomorrow and wherefore the songs of the young.”

 

“He’ll kill us and he’ll laugh. The deaths give him power and they’ll kill her dead. Dead. Dead!” The grizzled old man shook his bony fists at the sky.

 

“Droids raffledraw? The speeder killed my daughter and they battlecryed and jumped like peas! Shoulda tipped better.”

 

Revan finished the sandwich and wiped his fingers on his coat, giving it a cursory sniff. It still smelled vaguely of juma, which was to be expected, since most of the juice ended up on it anyway. He leaned back against the wall and shut his eyes as his senses flowed outwards.

 

Dodging the neon phantoms of jabberwillenglock, he wove his way to the minds of the politicians. Each consciousness was sharply outlined in black, often hinting at shades of grey. Numbers were clicking into place, budgets were being balanced (or were forced to do so), perfectly acceptable words were being abused in fatuous speeches.

 

“Quick, effective, and bipartisan action…”

 

“…strong and decisive legislation.”

 

“It is the duty of citizens to abide by the supreme council’s decision…”

 

Patiently, he teased out the fine silk threads that connected them to see if the lines of power had shifted. Every mind was formed by layers of thoughts and beliefs but he looked straight at the core. Today, he traced a certain distinctive shape—the bending of logic into a tight knot—in yet another mind.

 

Someone was doing this; someone was twisting reason to fit an agenda, and it was spreading like a virus—jumping from mind to mind as the seat of power was conquered by a cold philosophy. He briefly considered digging deeper to find the identity of the source, but decided against it. If it truly was propagating among them, finding someone who had the information that he needed would require many attempts. Even then, the search might cause permanent damage. A sudden epidemic of insane politicians was hardly subtle.

 

He was frustrated, but he skimmed through their minds again. This day had brought the same drab people with still no sign of his quarry. Subconsciously pulling his coat closer, he settled in to wait.

[Litofsky]

Interesting new chapter, Bee. It sounds like Revan is a loner/undercover agent by your descriptions. Either he's actually a drunk bum now, or he's putting on a spectacular show.

 

Nice job.

[Bee Hoon]

Thanks Litofsky! Hmmm, you'll have to see what happens:P

[Rabish Bini]

Nice chap, although it did seem a bit short, can't wait to see more

[The_Catto]

He's a bum

There's never been a 'Drunk Bum Revan' before I don't think so that's what this has to be!

Nice work Bee.

Looking forward to see if I'm right!

 

I very highly doubt it,

[Bee Hoon]

Thanks guys! It looked longer in word ;_; I shouldn't have split this and the next chapter, but oh well. What's done is done=p

[JediMaster12]

You're off to a nice start Bee. Glad you took up the reins of authordom

 

I really don't need to say anything much since everyone else addressed and you have good description of the characters and situation. It is an interesting situation since I have not read many fics with a punch drunk Revan. I am curious to see where this is going.

[Bee Hoon]

Thanks, JM12! Well, I do write when I feel like it;p

 

Chapter One

Part Two: Abyss

 

The bell atop the Core has just tolled, signaling the hour before sunset, when there a stir among the doormen and security guards. Revan strained to hear the speeder through their ears, quietly appreciating the sleek shape. There was someone inside.

 

For a brief moment, he examined the person. And then he was running, all fatigue forgotten, slipping and sliding around corners in his scuffed shoes.

 

“And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.”

 

He hissed an expletive through his teeth as he slowed down, casting about rapidly with his eyes and the Force. He had been unforgivably—perhaps fatally—careless. He pulled his hat lower, and exhaled. He was now a stooped man clutching at his coat as he turned the corner, the sharp chill clawing its way up from exposed bony ankles, no thanks to his ill-fitting pants. He limped slowly across the square and melted into the crowd.

 

He had his target, and a name which had been whispered in awe by the Core’s staff. And now they had their target. He needed his weapons. Now.

 

There was someone following him.

 

He was safe—for now. If he lingered, he would lead the assassin straight back to his safehouse. Discreetly, he felt for the vibrodagger which he had strapped to his wrist, unsheathing it and palming the hilt. To get to the nearest safehouse, he would have to go past a major thoroughfare before slipping into the back of the apartment building. It was a risk, but he decided to take it. His lightsaber was also there, thank the Force. Using it would not be the stupidest thing he had done today.

 

Within fifteen minutes, he was sprinting up the stairs to the second floor of the building. He listened at the door before letting himself in quickly and locking down the door console. Seconds later, he was shedding his worn clothes and pulling on a fresh change of clothing with admirable speed. As he was hooking the lightsaber on his belt, the doorbell tinkled cheerily. The person on the other side had a terrifying lack of Force presence. He would have run, but he needed to silence this yapping tongue first. Vibrodagger in hand, he unlocked the door and waited.

 

After the space of three measured breaths, the door slid open. He moved with it, and as the person stepped into the apartment, the vibrodagger sliced through the air in a deadly arc. The woman was already in motion, balancing her body as her leg shot up, her foot catching him in the throat. Bending backwards, he had missed most of the force of the blow, but it still hit him and it hurt. He caught her foot in the air and twisted it. A side flip ensured that it didn’t injure her, and a second one wrenched her foot out of his hand, her momentum throwing him off-balance. Flowing smoothly, she dropped her hands to the ground and damn he hated being kicked in the face. She grabbed his dagger hand—a foolish move, he was surely stronger than her—and kneed him in the solar plexus. His breath forcibly left his lungs as he remembered that only one person had been able to beat him like this—to foresee every move and counter before he himself knew what he was going to do…

 

She pushed him down and he let her because somewhere in his buzzing head, wheels were turning as impossibility waged war with hope. Removing the dagger from limp fingers, she held it to his throat as he stared at her in disbelief.

 

“Hello, Revan.”

[Endorenna]

Is it Bastila? Is it the Exile? Is it, is it--who the heck is it!

 

I, um--don't suppose you happen to have the next chapter ready?

[Bee Hoon]

I do, but it needs a major clean-up because I was transposing it from third person to first person:P Or maybe not O_o You'll see!

[Litofsky]

Bee! I didn't even see that this was out! I'm terribly sorry for not reading it sooner! I loved how you depicted the Exile walking in on Revan's shop, beating the crud out of him, and then holding a dagger to his throat.

 

I liked the action scene quite a bit, especially the "damn he hated being kicked in the face." It was a nice change to hear Revan's thoughts on getting beaten.

 

Great job, Bee! Looking forward to more!

 

EDIT: Upon reading the first chapter again, may I ask if it was Revan that assassinated the politician?

[Bee Hoon]

Thanks! ;D Hey, I need to write Exile as a bit more badass, since I usually write her as weepy and needy >.< Hee, Sabre practically rewrote the action scene. It received his tender loving attention closely, despite the fact that the fight probably would have lasted all of six seconds in RL

 

Yes, it was Revan:P You spotted it well!

[Sabretooth]

Hee, Sabre practically rewrote the action scene. It received his tender loving attention closely, despite the fact that the fight probably would have lasted all of six seconds in RL

Without my "tender loving attention" the fight scene looked like it was 50 minutes long, and in slow motion too. >.<

[Darth_Yuthura]

Great! Another story about the Exile in the works, but an interesting one at that.

 

Maybe I should aim for shorter chapters with more content open to the imagination. I hate cliffhangers because they always force the reader to come back!

 

Well I'll be back to see if Revan is really as powerless as he seemed.

[Bee Hoon]

Sabre, that is true

 

Darth_Yuthura, thanks! Hee, chapter 1 and 2 should have been published as one chapter, so that's my mistake:P

[HIGH ON PIE 14]

Ah, I thought it might be Revan in the prologue! It reminded me of Granta Omega taking off the synthetic flesh. (He's in some EU stuff) While Revan was surprised in that fight in chp 2, it's good to see he still has his wits about him. I actually enjoy the fact that Revan is not some uber- invincible, near god for once - he can be beaten, but can also take a kick to the face!

 

The chapters were a bit short, true, but better than mine that can't even fit into one post. The way you ended the second chapter was perfect - unlike DY I just adore cliffhangers.

 

I'll keep my eyes open for chapter 3.

 

~HOP

[Bee Hoon]

*iz lag*

 

Thank you very much for the comments! I really should read the EU stuff to give me a better feel of the SW universe... But I'm lazy and I have no idea where to start. Hee, poor Revan. No, he's not invincible, but Sabre keeps reminding me how badass he is, so I can't bully him too much

 

Hey, long is good! Short chapters usually annoy me, but for some reason I seem to be writing shorter and shorter things >:3 Lazy of me, tsk tsk.

 

Thanks again!

[Bee Hoon]

DOUBLE POST Once again, here is a tribute to Sabre for being awesomesauce. THEN WHO WAS X??

 

If you haven't read it, I suggest you read A Reason, which provides some backstory for the conversation in the second half of the chapter. It's not vital, but hey

 

* * *

 

Chapter Two

Part One: Where I Am

 

She explored when he went to shower. The bedroom was very small and an army cot served as his bed. She smiled at the thought of all six feet of Revan trying to fit onto the cot. His feet must have been hanging over the edge, night after night. Impulsively, she sat on the bed, irritated (even if she wouldn’t admit it to herself) by how neat it was. She shook out the blanket and clicked her tongue disapprovingly when she saw that he slept with exactly one pillow. Nevertheless, she tried it out, and was even more disappointed when she discovered that it was lumpy.

 

The rest of the apartment was equally cramped and spartan. The cupboards were empty, save for a few changes of clothing and some canned food. Besides his lightsaber, there was nothing that could have been considered a personal item. How very Jedi.

 

She examined the hilt closely, running her fingers over the unadorned metal and weighing it in her hand to gauge the balance. Although it was far too shiny and new to be the original hilt, it looked exactly like the one he had used as a Padawan. It was heavier than what she was used to, and the energy emitter had been shifted to the tip sheathed in ebony. Oddly enough, all the crystal slots were in the same half of the hilt, and she decided that she wouldn’t want to use his lightsaber if at all possible—the balance was so different that she might just decapitate herself.

 

“Yes, it is a replica. I’ve rearranged the crystals and the emitter, but otherwise, it’s exactly the same.”

 

She didn’t bother turning around. A cupboard door creaked open, and the quiet sound of clothing being pulled over bare skin suddenly made her feel unbearably lonely. “What happened to the old one?” she asked.

 

“Hm. I suppose that it went down with the ship when Malak betrayed me and the Jedi decided that saving me would be a good idea.” He came up to stand behind her, closer than she was comfortable with. “Either that, or Kavar has it stashed somewhere. He still has your shoto hilt, you know.”

 

She moved away from him, going to stand by the window. “He’s dead.”

 

“How?” Revan asked sharply.

 

“Kreia killed him. She killed them all—the last remnants of the Jedi Council. Kavar, Master Vrook, Master Zez-Kai Ell. She drained the Force from them.”

 

“Damn. Is there anyone…?”

 

“No. Atris lives, but she fell. And now we have a lot of Sith holocrons that we don’t know what to do with.”

 

“Are you okay? I mean, Kavar…”

 

“I think so.”

 

“Oh. And the Order?”

 

“Shaky. I was training some adults. They mean well, but their methods can be...unorthodox.”

 

“Then why aren’t you with them?”

 

“You would do well to ask yourself the same thing. And Bastila is with them.”

 

The ensuing silence was long and loud. She wondered whether he had really loved Bastila, and whether he still did.

 

“Is she well?”

 

“Yes. She still loves you.” Even after all these years, she thought.

 

“She loves the man that she and the Council created.”

 

She gave him that ambiguous, lopsided half-smile. They both watched each other, still just a little wary, still locked in their own minds. She looked away after a time. To break the silence, she let her eyes wander around the apartment as she said, “It seems that old habits die hard.”

 

“Old feelings die harder.”

 

She made a small cynical sound. He wasn’t sure what to make of it. They had never needed words then, but now she was utterly unreadable. She obviously wasn’t ready to let the bond reform, and with good reason.

 

This safehouse was compromised, so he packed all his clothing and the food. She watched him silently all the while, smiling slightly when their eyes met. Shouldering his bag, he nodded towards the door. “Do you have anything that you want to get? It’s too late to get out of the city, but we should once the trams start running—lie low for a while. Until then, I have another place where we can stay the night.”

 

“And I have a place which has a sofa. Something tells me that it’s a luxury you lack.”

 

He couldn’t suppress a grin. “I would have given you the bed anyway. I need to pick up my other lightsaber; give me the address and I’ll meet you there.”

 

She was already out of the door, and the dim light in the corridor caught her face oddly. “Once, you would have always known where I was.”

 

* * *

 

Part Two: Justify

 

It was an unsettling tram ride—she had lapsed into silence. As they disembarked, she strode off and he let her go, figuring that she would return when she was ready, and if not, he could locate her anyway.

 

He was as presumptuous as ever; she had never said that she wanted to stay with him, or travel with him, but he (rightly) assumed that she did. It annoyed her, as did the way he always unsettled her. She had thought that she had laid her demons to rest at Malachor V, but the sight of him awakened the pain. They had to end the war, and he was at the opposite end of the galaxy, but she couldn’t forget what HK-47 had said.

 

“…many of the Jedi and Republic soldiers who died were not Revan’s strongest supporters.”

 

“How much do you remember?” she still didn’t look at him, but she had tightened her lips.

 

“Almost everything.” He hoped that he could.

 

“Good. Then you can tell me why you sent me to Malachor V.” She clipped the edge off every word, the words tapping out a staccato beat.

 

“The war had to end.”

 

“So I was told. But that’s not all, is it?”

 

He hesitated. “Because I wanted you to fall.”

 

Her voice was distant as she asked, “Why?”

 

“I dreamt of the True Sith. They used you to hold me in their power. They…hurt you.” How do I make you understand?

 

“So?”

 

“I wanted to keep you close, and safe. I’m sorry.”

 

“It never occurred to you to tell me any of this?”

 

“I wanted to protect you.” And you were so far away, he thought sadly.

 

“And you did this by trying to either make me fall to the Dark Side or kill me?”

 

There was nothing he could say because that was nothing that truly justified it.

 

She turned on her heels and walked away, fists clenched. A middle-aged man caught Revan’s eye and shrugged sympathetically. Revan smiled resignedly and shook his head. Women, he thought ruefully. He followed her, but she entered the turbolift and closed the door in his face. Sighing, he prepared to wait for the next one.

 

Something literally knocked the breath from him, but he heard the snap hiss of a lightsaber being ignited. His own blades parried the assailant’s, violet and red beams catching the single scarlet sabre in a lock. Vaguely, he heard screaming, and the man’s grunt as he released the lock and slammed his elbow into the man’s face. A second later, the Sith was dead, but Revan was falling.

 

Falling with her.