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Images swim through my mind. They were wild, but always about the same thing. It was all the hints; all the visions and sly looks people gave me. Everything that I had missed – everything that I should have realised meant that I was the Dark Lord of the Sith. I was Darth Revan. Urgh, the words made me feel sick. On top of my new memories, there were others mixed in. They were half memories; jumbled emotions and events. Only milliseconds of things, but they were there. They had been there all along – how could I have missed them?

I was absorbing the life of another person. The shimmering red cord of light sizzled in the air as the health of my victim travelled along the cord and gave me strength.

I was putting together the parts of a rust coloured droid together in the workshop on the Star Forge.

I was talking to a small man with a worried expression. I was ordering the attack on Dxun. I knew that many would die on both sides, but I just didn’t care.

I was back on the Leviathan. I watched as Bastila charged forwards with her double-bladed lightsaber glowing yellow against the red-tinted light of the maze. She took my place in the fight against Malak. I saw the look of amusement – and satisfaction – on Malak’s face as she took up the fight. The heavy doors slid shut, cutting me off from her. Carth’s hands gripped my shoulders as he practically dragged me away to the ship. There was nothing I could have done, I knew that, but it was still wrong. I should be the one Malak had now, not her. He would probably just kill me after some torture, but that would be nothing compared to what he would do to turn Bastila to his side. I didn’t want to think about the pain he was inflicting on Bastila right now. It was my fault…

*

I woke in the dimly lit dormitory. My heart was pounding and my head spun. I could hear Mission’s gentle breathing in the other bunk and the hum of the hyperdrive. Every one else was asleep. I felt out of place. I wasn’t the person I was yesterday – I didn’t belong here.

I tried to calm my heart, but I couldn’t. It was just too much. I looked at the next bunk, but I didn’t have to. I already knew that it would be empty. The covers were perfectly neat and untouched. I knew that they would be cold to the touch. Everything was so wrong now. Why had this happened to me?

I shook my head and tried to bury the wave of emotion. I was a Jedi, I shouldn’t be like this. This was the kind of thing the Masters had warned me about – the path to the Dark Side. I didn’t want to be Revan ever again. I couldn’t do the things she had done.

The slight vibration of the hyperdive travelled up my feet as I stood. I didn’t know where I was going, but I didn’t want to be in that room any more. I crept into the hall silently; I didn’t want to wake anyone. I didn’t know where I could go. Even if most of my companions – friends – were asleep; the droids were still hanging around somewhere. I didn’t want to have to talk to anyone. I ended up in the cargo hold. The shimmering blue of hyperspace lit the room. The light made everything distorted and wrong, just like me.

I slumped down behind the plasteel cylinders. The metal ground was hard and cold through my night clothes, but I didn’t care. I felt hot tears well in my eyes. I couldn’t stop them from trickling down my face.

Time passed and seemed to stretch out forever. Someone cleared their throat. My heart skipped a beat and my head shot up to look at the person who was standing there. Heat shot up my neck. I must have looked terrible. Through the blur of tears, all I could see was the figure of a man in the flickering light from outside. I dragged my hand over my eyes to try and get rid of the tears.

“Jolee?”

“What are you snivelling about, kiddo?” he asked. His words were harsh, but there was something soothing about them. I was half thankful that he was there.

“Did I wake you?” I asked. “Sorry…”

“What’s up with you now?” asked Jolee impatiently. He sat down on one of the cylinders. His brown robes flopped over the cylinder onto the ground. A corner of material hung in a patch of mud that had found its way into the ship. The small puddle of mud slowly seeped into the material. I fixed my eyes on that instead of looking at Jolee. I couldn’t stand looking at his face.

“It’s just the shock. I can’t believe that I was Revan. It’s just insane; I’m just – me. How could I have done all those things they say Revan did? I’m not like that at all.”

“Is that it?” Jolee asked. “It doesn’t really matter who you were. It’s what we do now that matters. So unless you’re about to take over the galaxy with a Sith fleet, then you don’t have anything to worry about.”

I looked at him. There was a shadow of a kind smile on his face. “Thanks,” I replied. Even though I’d already heard this from Mission, it helped.

“What else is wrong?” Jolee pushed.

I shook my head. I didn’t want to think about the rest of it. “It’s nothing.”

“There’s obviously something wrong. I’m not too old to notice that. Tell me, dammit.”

I took a deep breath. “It’s just how people have reacted. Juhani’s too angry to speak to me any more. HK and Canderous are treating me like I’m some sort of saint, but I’m not,” I sighed. “And I had to work to get Carth to trust me. The second I finally get him to trust me, this happens. He won’t even look me in the eye anymore.”

Jolee shook his head. “That’s people for you. They’ll get over it with time,” he looked at the flickering blueness of hyperspace. “I could talk to Carth for you if you want.”

I looked at him. “Would you? I’d appreciate it.”

He pushed himself to his feet and strode out of the room. “So I’ve been demoted to messenger boy,” he muttered under his breath, but I knew that he didn’t really mean it.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, May 5th, 2010 at 4:31 am and is filed under Jolee Bindo, Knights of the Old Republic, Revan (Female/Light Side), Star Wars. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.