Author's Note/Disclaimer: Warning! This chapter contains the author's extensive thoughts on the main character's past. I do not claim this to be canon. It is merely my interpretation.
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Evening, shipboard time; the unhurried drift of stars visible through the transparisteel viewport; the dim light of an old lamp in the freighter's cramped cabin; and a heart-to-heart conversation — all of it was intimately familiar to Revan and filled him with nostalgia.
Once, long ago, in fact, millennia ago, the disgraced Knight of the Jedi Order had enjoyed sitting and talking with the crew of the Ebon Hawk. In those days, the transport ship was... loud, but full of life. There was the endless chatter of Mission Vao, emotionally detailing her life on Taris. Her counterpoint was the roaring, howling Shyriiwook of the shaggy giant from Kashyyyk, Zaalbar. Juhani quietly whispered her mantras, striving to find stability within herself and silence her fear of the dark side of the Force. The seemingly stern but deeply soulful Mandalorian, Canderous Ordo, if persuaded, would recount his military exploits and his service under Mandalore the Ultimate. And somewhere in the cockpit, Carth Onasi and Bastila Shan were perpetually bickering...
Bastila... She was the one Revan missed most of all. His one true love...
The former Jedi yearned for those times, his friends, and his beloved. Perhaps this was one of the reasons why he agreed to tell his story to Tira. The revelation that Vaner Shan was the legendary Revan had utterly shocked the mercenary, prompting her to erupt in an avalanche of questions. She wanted to know everything, from the former Jedi Knight's birthplace to how he had managed to survive four thousand years.
Revan initially resisted answering but eventually gave in, warning her that the story would be long and likely span more than one evening. The mercenary was not deterred.
"Well, then, listen," the former Jedi began.
Even at the start of his tale, Revan realized that this "recounting" of his own destiny was perhaps more necessary for him than for his listener. It was a chance to put his memories in order and, once again, try to recall what the Jedi Council's "healing" had cost him. Even now, he had not remembered everything that happened before Malak's betrayal. Who was he before he joined the Order? Where was he born? What were his parents' names? By the Hutt, even his true name, given to him at birth! He could not recall it, no matter how hard he tried.
Revan...
Not a name, not a surname, but his essence! A title, invented and adopted by the renegade who refused to tolerate the injustice and inaction of the Council any longer. A challenge thrown down to the galaxy! Vengeance personified.
Revan could not remember why he had chosen that name specifically, back on Katar. All that surfaced in his mind when he mentally returned to that day was the Mandalorian mask he had found amidst the ashes... and those very words. His oath. A promise that seemed to spill from his lips on its own. The idea that had been ringing like a gong in his head for months had finally broken free. Never before had he felt so certain, so... right! The Force itself seemed to echo in his words at that moment...
With a sad smile, Revan realized that the great Force had been guiding him, pushing him forward, even then. A tool or a favorite? One did not exclude the other...
"It does not matter!" he suddenly told himself mentally.
The Force had been his loyal companion and ally for many long years. He had known power and greatness. He had saved hundreds of planets, billions of sentient beings, become a hero, but more importantly, he had quieted his conscience... albeit briefly. He had gained everything he could have dreamed of. And if, in doing so, the Force somehow influenced the galaxy through him... well, that was an acceptable price.
Shaking his head to drive away unnecessary doubts, Revan continued his story.
He told Tira that, after a severe injury, he could not recall many facts of his life. For example, his homeworld or his family. His memories began in the Jedi Temple.
"Despite not remembering my parents, I vividly recall the feeling of sadness and loss I experienced during my first months at the Temple on Coruscant. But I found solace in knowledge. I could spend hours in the archives, studying new books. It didn't matter what it was—treatises on history or diplomacy, the instructions of Masters past, or military handbooks—I was interested in everything! The Force had not denied me talent, so I easily handled the youngling training program, which left me with a lot of free time. And I studied. I literally 'devoured' everything I could get my hands on: Force techniques, lightsaber forms, and combat styles, the properties of natural and artificial crystals and lightsaber construction, planetary and space combat tactics and strategy, and the fundamentals of survival in adverse natural conditions."
"Useful skills," the mercenary commented, impressed.
"Yes... I've had more than one chance to be convinced of that," the Jedi grimaced sadly. "Be that as it may, my efforts did not go unnoticed. Jedi Master Kreia took an interest in me, and soon I became her Padawan."
Revan paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts and reviewing his memories of that time.
"My Master... she was a strange Jedi. And her opinions about the Force... grew more unusual and contradictory over the years. But she was the one who taught me, above all, to think and evaluate my actions. Before doing anything, I had to calculate all the possible consequences of the decision I made."
"Sounds like she was teaching you to predict the future, like some kind of fortune-teller," Tira scoffed.
Revan ignored the comment. People not sensitive to the Force would never fully understand its properties.
"My Master truly could see the future," he said with a smile, "and she was very good at it. I even think that from the very first day she saw me, she knew who I would become."
Noting the girl's surprised look with some pleasure, the former Jedi continued his narrative. He told the mercenary about his "strange" training under Kreia. How she loved to ask him very unusual and morally difficult questions. The essence of her lessons was that everyone must be prepared to find a way out of a difficult situation on their own, without outside help. And Revan quickly grasped this essence... but in his own way. He realized that solving other people's problems was not the solution, but one could motivate others to solve them, to lead forward, to be a leader... a symbol.
"You should have seen how the Master laughed at my point of view back then!" Revan chuckled, but just a moment later returned to a serious expression, continuing his thought, "and how respectfully she spoke of it later..."
The former Jedi also told Tira that his training with Kreia, which more often resembled philosophical disputes, left him with a lot of free time, which he spent on independent training and studying with other instructors. The Padawan could seek help and advice from any Master of the Order, and they were happy to assist. Especially a talented young man like Revan. And he shamelessly took advantage of this. Many trained him, and the wisdom of each did not go to waste.
Revan particularly singled out Master Arren Kae, who, judging by the amount of time and effort she spent training the curious Padawan, could have claimed the title of his official instructor alongside Kreia. This woman showed the young Light Side adept the importance of physical training, lightsaber mastery skills, and the application of Force techniques. Under her patronage, Revan studied the fundamentals of all seven lightsaber forms, mastered Jar'Kai, and developed a fondness for the original reverse grip of Form V, Shien.
If Kreia developed his mind, Arren Kae trained his body. And Revan was infinitely grateful to them both.
The narrative had to be interrupted when the former Jedi suddenly felt a powerful wave of fear, the source of which was Anakin. A plea for help was distinctly felt in the Force. The boy was in a panic. Fear, in turn, attracted the dark side, which was already reaching out to the boy. But suddenly, everything stopped.
Revan had foreseen such an outcome when he assigned HK to train Anakin. The droid did not like to hold back, and the boy, in turn, needed to feel his vulnerability. The feeling of superiority that Skywalker had developed after winning the podrace and then destroying the Trade Federation station worried Revan. Excessive arrogance was a serious obstacle to his training.
Yes, Anakin was incredibly lucky, and prospectively, just as incredibly powerful. The Force favored its Chosen One. But without proper training and necessary instruction, the boy might not live long enough to reach his full potential.
He needed to take the arrogance out of him. And it had to be done by someone who did not wield the Force. So HK was doing an excellent job...
"The main thing is that he doesn't overdo it," Revan thought, and pulled out his comlink to contact the droid.
"What is going on over there?" the former Sith asked sternly once the connection was established.
"Answer: Training," the droid immediately replied.
"Oh, is it?" Revan inquired in a deceptively gentle tone. "Is this 'training' why Anakin is suddenly emitting waves of fear across the entire ship? Any louder, and his cry for help will be heard even on Coruscant."
"Clarification: No irreparable harm, Master. Merely disciplinary measures to instill a sense of order in the training subject," the droid added, sensing his creator's mood.
The former Jedi let out a prolonged sigh.
HK was incorrigible. However, everything was proceeding as planned.
"Tone it down," Revan said, more calmly.
"Acknowledged, Master," HK immediately replied.
The connection was severed.
"Did something happen?" Tira asked, surprised by the abrupt change in her companion's demeanor.
"No," Revan shook his head. "Everything is fine. I sensed strange emotions from Anakin and decided to check."
The mercenary scoffed.
"Your Force again."
The ancient Force-sensitive ignored the comment, deciding to return to his story.
"So, where were we?"
"Your instructors," Tira reminded him.
"Yes, of course..."
Meanwhile... Abora Island, Muunilinst
The Abora Tower Complex, located on the island of the same name in the Western Sea of Muunilinst, had long belonged to the Damask clan, officially serving as a minor leisure residence.
In reality, however, deep beneath the complex, in a labyrinth of tunnels descending into the very heart of a now-dormant volcano, lay the secret refuge of the current clan head, Hego Damask, also known to a select few as Darth Plagueis.
In one of the complex's halls, which more closely resembled a laboratory, the Muun, shrouded in a black cloak, thoughtfully examined a frame from a holo-recording. It showed an individual in a Mandalorian mask and a deep-hooded cloak destroying a group of battle droids at once, unleashing something that looked like lightning directly from the fingers of his left hand.
Silence filled the room, broken only by the quiet hum of the holoprojector and the hiss of the respirator, which Plagueis required after the severe injury he sustained during one of the attempts on his life.
The Sith was bewildered. On the recording, he was ready to swear, was his last test subject. The product of an experiment he considered a failure! Yet, it was him, the dead man who had escaped directly from the incinerator unit at one of Plagueis's secret bases only a few weeks prior.
On that day, Damask had once again attempted to bring a Force-sensitive back to life. The subject had been chosen based on the concentration of midi-chlorians in his cells. The site for the experiment had been built at a point of high Force energy concentration. Plagueis himself had prepared for the ritual for months. The Sith nearly perished himself, channeling a massive amount of dark side energy through his body. But it yielded no results. The dead man remained dead. All had been for nothing!
And yet, how many hopes he had pinned on this specific experiment! And the risk? Oh, the Force! How exposed he had been! Not only did the ritual weaken him for several weeks, opening the door for another assassination attempt, and his apprentice was already ready to become the Master... But the victim chosen for the experiment could also complicate relations with the Jedi Order, and specifically with one Council member. After all, the test subject was his son... albeit a secret one.
"Mizar Marr," the Sith traced the hologram with his hand, barely touching the interwoven light streams, "Old Sifo-Dyas was willing to give his life for you. But I will demand much, much more!"
The Muun laughed a deep, muffled laugh.
Tracking the escapee was not easy. However, credits open many doors and provide a wealth of opportunities for those who know how to use them. For that matter, Mizar himself had left a rather clear trail: a smuggler's ship. Establishing the owner's identity using the records of the Sector Justice Authority and an informer network among the Hutt Cartel's smugglers turned out to be quite simple, though expensive. For some reason, a Cartel representative on Tatooine was interested in this particular vessel. Jabba the Hutt, with whom the Muun occasionally did business, had tried to conceal the fact that the ship had recently changed owners... barely a week after the incident in the laboratory.
At the same time, an individual appeared on Tatooine, rumored to be a Jedi, wearing a distinct Mandalorian mask and effortlessly taking over the Bloody Claws gang. Mercenaries throughout the sector were alarmed, but the Cartel made it clear that this man was theirs.
The name Vaner Shan slipped into the reports. It seemed this was the name Mizar had adopted.
After Tatooine, the trail of the smuggler's ship led to Coruscant, where it disappeared at a used vehicle market on one of the lower levels. Sources among the local riff-raff claimed that the sale had been handled by a distinctive protocol droid of unusual design. This same droid later participated in an auction and tried to buy a YT-series freighter but lost the bid. However, notably, that very auction lot—a YT-1930/FLP cargo ship—was registered under the name Dawn's Eagle through Hutt Cartel agents. And some claim that the registration was handled by the same strange protocol droid.
The ship had surfaced on Naboo, delivering a certain Avner Van, a Jedi Knight, there. The intervention of this Force-sensitive, who proved to be a quite talented Force adept, cost Plagueis and his apprentice their entire operation to form an opposition within the galaxy. Although... it could not be called a failure. Loophole exits remained, and the effect, though weaker than intended, was still acceptable.
The Muun recalled the reports from Naboo. The droid was also briefly seen there, but as an excellent combatant.
All of this suggested that Vaner Shan, Avner Van, and Mizar Marr were one and the same person. This was generally confirmed when someone decided to meet with Sidious.
Plagueis recalled how he had inquired about Vaner Shan. The name was likely fabricated. At the very least, a search across all available sources only yielded information about a candidate for Supreme Chancellor of the Republic who lived nearly four thousand years ago. Furthermore, he was the son of a certain Bastila Shan, who distinguished herself during the war with Revan's Empire. And descendants of that Vaner often appeared in the Jedi Order. Plus, the rumors of his connection to...
"Hmm?" the Sith uttered in surprise, then laughed much louder.
How did he miss it right away! His experiment's result had recently given his true name himself! Vaner and Avner were simply anagrams of a single name!
"Revan!" the Muun shouted, pointing a finger at the holo-recording. "You are Revan!"
The Sith's delight was boundless. He had not merely brought a dead man back to life! He had, in some incredible way, managed to draw the essence of the ancient Sith Lord out of the infinite current of the Force! How this happened remained to be determined, but the fact was undeniable!
Of course, proof would need to be gathered... And it would be beneficial to conduct research on the resurrected being.
"Later..." Damask reminded himself.
There was no need to rush this matter. The result of the experiment was, first and foremost... dangerous. And if Revan had indeed taken up residence in the body of Sifo-Dyas's offspring... he should first be brought under control. Or else... eliminated.
Plagueis's thoughts were interrupted by the chirp of his communicator, announcing an incoming message from his apprentice.
The Muun settled more comfortably into his chair and activated the holocommunicator.
"Master," the hologram of Sidious knelt.
"What news do you have, my apprentice?" Damask asked measuredly.
Palpatine lifted his hood-shrouded head and reported concisely:
"As you suspected, Avner Van and Vaner Shan are the same person. I am forwarding you his holophoto, obtained from internal surveillance cameras at the Jedi Temple."
Plagueis displayed the image on the same holo-screen where he had previously viewed the recording of the unknown person meeting Sidious, expecting to see Mizar Marr.
The face of the young Force-sensitive who had concealed himself during the fight behind the mask turned out to be different, much to the Sith's surprise. However, upon closer inspection, the Muun found familiar features. The Force had clearly worked on the resurrected body! His features simultaneously resembled both Sifo-Dyas's son and Revan, if the old Order holos were to be believed.
"Intriguing," Plagueis drawled. "What else have you managed to uncover?"
"Nothing specific, Master," Sidious shook his head. "Records of the meeting with the Council were deleted before my agents could access them. However, rumors suggest this Avner greatly troubled the upper echelon of the Order. Some claim that several Masters ended up in the Healing Halls after the meeting."
The Muun merely grunted at this.
"If he is who he claims to be, that is unsurprising."
"Master, if I may..." Sidious interrupted his teacher. "I still believe he is merely an impostor. A powerful one, but..."
"Know your place!" Plagueis roared, clenching his fist.
In the next instant, his apprentice's hologram clutched his throat. Sidious desperately gasped for air, struggling against the sudden wave of Force choking. A few seconds later, Damask loosened his grip, allowing Palpatine to breathe.
"Forgive me, Master." The apprentice collapsed onto his knees again. "I did not intend to question your wisdom."
The Muun felt the hatred emanating from his apprentice and savored the sensation. Yes, Sidious was dangerous. But it was all the more satisfying to remind him of his power. Soon, he would attempt to strike and tear off the leash... but for now, everything was under control.
"Keep your cowardly doubts to yourself, my pathetic apprentice," Plagueis sneered. "What of the plan?"
Suppressing the flare of rage and removing the momentary snarl from his face, Sidious continued:
"The Jedi's intervention was predictable, however... Revan." Palpatine stumbled over the name of his recent opponent. "His appearance forced us to make certain adjustments to the plan."
"What are our losses?"
"I would assess them as moderate, Master. The Trade Federation is in a difficult position, but this outcome was anticipated. The change of power on Naboo failed; a convinced idealist, loyal to the Republic, remains in office. Because of this, the center of opposition will have to be another planet. Although... that may even be better. Dissatisfaction among the parties in the Senate is growing, and the schism is inevitable. All that remains is to choose the 'face of the separatists.' The Neimoidians are out of the question in this regard... Also, our 'candidate' proved uncooperative."
"Dooku did not make contact?" Plagueis was slightly surprised.
The Sith's sources reported that the Count of Serenno was extremely dissatisfied with the state of affairs in the Order and was ready to leave it. All that was needed was a little push. And the conflict on Naboo, coupled with the Council's inaction...
"Ah, so that's it..." Damask nodded to himself mentally. "The Jedi sent by the Council did not perish. And the conflict was successfully resolved. And now a very powerful Force-sensitive has appeared, whose skills in many ways surpass those of the contemporary Order members."
"The Count did not reply to the message, which can be considered a refusal," Palpatine continued. "That was expected, given the fact that his apprentice was saved by our new 'friend.' Dooku is still negatively inclined toward the Order, but I believe the opportunity to bring him to our side has been lost, Master."
Plagueis nodded sagely, contemplating the options. A replacement for the Count could be found. Perhaps not as charismatic or galaxy-renowned, but still equally suitable for the role of a revolutionary.
However, the possibility of Dooku joining Revan instilled apprehension. With Serenno's support, the resurrected Sith would have far more opportunities to interfere with the Muun's plans. And the potential for that was certainly there.
Sidious waited submissively for his teacher's reply.
"Continue to monitor the actions of Dooku and our new 'friend'," Damask commanded after several minutes of reflection. "I will personally select a replacement for our pawn. Evidently, you are not yet capable of handling such a task."
Sidious ground his teeth but obediently bowed his head.
"As you wish, Master."
"That is all." Plagueis terminated the connection.
And on the other side of the galaxy, Palpatine rose to his feet, proudly straightened his shoulders, and threw back his hood.
"Enjoy your power while you can, old fool," he sneered. "Your age is coming to an end."
How tired he was of playing the obedient apprentice. But the chance to painlessly eliminate his teacher had been missed. Everything had been prepared... But something had spooked Plagueis and forced him to lock himself away in his bunker on Abora.
"Do I owe the disruption of my plans and the emergence of a new threat to yet another experiment by the Master, who is obsessed with eternal life?" Sidious mused sarcastically. "That would be just like him."
The thought crossed Palpatine's mind that Plagueis was secretly preparing a replacement apprentice for the Naboo native... Although such a scenario was unlikely, there was definitely a connection between the one who called himself Revan and the old Muun. Too many events coincided chronologically.
First, Damask performed a ritual at one of his bases. Then, he abruptly withdrew to Abora and put all his security on high alert. And at the same time, a Force-sensitive appeared on Tatooine who managed to effortlessly defeat Maul. This same person then appeared on Naboo and completely derailed all the plans.
"Yet, his ability and power cannot be denied," the Sith mused thoughtfully.
Sidious had personally tested the capabilities of this "Revan." No, Palpatine did not believe he was truly the ancient Sith Lord. For now, Vaner Shan had demonstrated nothing that exceeded the abilities of a talented Force-sensitive. Perhaps Sidious could have dealt with him if necessary. However... there was something... strange about him. The impostor exuded a sense of... grandeur... of superiority! Something was wrong with him! Palpatine distinctly sensed danger. He needed to be vigilant.
It did not add to his peace of mind that after the meeting with... "Revan," Sidious began to feel a strange pressure from the Force... like a barely discernible whisper somewhere in the recesses of his consciousness. But he could not make out the words.
"Something is brewing," Palpatine frowned. "And I need to be ready for it."
Pushing aside the unnecessary, anxious thoughts, Sidious pulled up his hood, concealing his face, left his secret refuge, and headed to his working residence. After all, a Chancellor could not be away for too long.
Palpatine pondered the current situation in the galaxy, his teacher's plan, and his own place within it. It was time to reclaim the initiative that had slipped away after the assassination failure.
Sidious knew perfectly well who Plagueis would choose to use instead of Dooku. It would surely be his old friend, Sifo-Dyas. The Jedi had long needed to be drawn to their side or eliminated. His precognitive abilities were too dangerous. And even though the dark side reliably concealed the Sith and his apprentice, counting on the eternal benevolence of the Force would be foolish.
However, he had to admit, the Master's candidacy was suitable. The next step required providing the Republic with an army, preparing everything for the impending schism in the galaxy. And a Jedi Council member was best suited for this role. He could freely command the Order's considerable funds without arousing suspicion, as he possessed such authority. And covering his tracks in the chaos rampant in the Temple would be easy enough even for a child.
But that would be Plagueis's pawn...
Palpatine, however, needed his own person. Someone who could help eliminate the Master, and then assist in the execution of the plan. Potentially, an apprentice to replace the traitor Maul.
The figure of Sidious's fellow Naboo native, Ronhar Kim, came to mind. Over several years on Coruscant, they had managed to become good friends. Well, at least Kim was sure of it. From Palpatine's perspective, it was a subtle calculation and a setup for the future. His own agent in the enemy camp would never be superfluous.
"Well, perhaps the time has come..."
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