Work Text:
‘It is happening,’ Revan told them, ‘whether we like it or not.’ There were eight Masters in the room with him, and more than twice as many present via holo from the High Temple and the other Enclaves, all listening intently to his words and not a one among them being swayed. ‘We did not learn after Althir, and we did not learn after Lianna, Quermia, or Jaminere. Will we truly not learn after Cathar and Taris?’
The only one who seemed inclined to answer was Vrook, so Revan pressed on. ‘They are coming for the Republic, and they will win if we do not intervene. Imagine that, an entire galaxy under Mandalorian rule.’
‘We are aware of the Mandalorian threat Revan,’ Vandar reiterated patiently, ‘what remains clouded is whether there is some greater danger we could bring about by acting prematurely.’
Based on what, specifically? ‘You mean you’ve become so traumatised by what happened with Exar that you’re going to stand by while trillions die.’
The corners of Vandar’s huge ears twitched, the closest to an emotional reaction Revan had ever seen from him: ‘Enough Revan. The Council has decided. You have appraised us of Yusanis’s intelligence, and given your own opinion on the matter, as is your right as a Knight of the Jedi. The Council has much still to discuss. Return to the dormitories until you receive your next assignment.’
‘You have only the illusion of a decision. The Mandalorians will make it for you soon enough.’ He was done humouring them, had held back his contempt as long as he could.
Vandar was unmoved. ‘We shall see.’
‘Which part of the meaning of “Crusade” are you fools still struggling to grasp?’
‘Revan.’
‘If Kae were still here-’
‘-She is not,’ Vrook interjected, unable to contain himself either, ‘and we are the better for it. She did enough damage before her exile, and you are all the lesson we need that much of it is still to be healed.’
Revan rounded on him. ‘She’s the twice the jedi you are, you fu-’
-Kavar cut him off: ‘Revan, many of us here still remember Master Kae’s deeds, teachings, and service, stray though she did. Her word still carries weight among us, but you have made us aware of her opinion. As a knight, whose own deeds and service have earned much respect among the Masters, we have also listened to everything you have to say. But as a knight, you are being instructed by the Council to go.’
Revan turned from Vrook to Kavar, his rage beginning to cool. The old warrior had always been fair to him, more than in fact, always willing to teach him whenever he’d asked, even after Kae’s exile, when the rest of them would so clearly have preferred he didn’t exist. Kavar had even spoken up for Kae, when it all came out, and while some went straight for blood he’d taken it upon himself to negotiate the compromise between the Order and the Echani that Kae had blown up herself when she refused to abandon Yusanis and Brianna.
Besides, you could know a Master by their padawan, and Revan admired Meetra Surik, who’d been there for him when he’d had no-one but Malak, despite barely knowing him, just because she’d sensed his pain.
He bowed his head, slightly. ‘Yes Master. Forgive my tone.’ He turned to go, then stopped, unable to resist, and said back over his shoulder, ‘When their invasion begins in earnest, please remember what I have said.’
Malak was waiting for him outside. ‘I heard you and him shouting at each other about Kae, so I assume they haven’t changed their minds.’
‘They won’t, not until it’s far too late. I should have known.’
Malak’s nod said ‘Yes Revan, you should have’ as clearly as if he’d spoken the words aloud. ‘So what are you going to do?’
‘Be an obedient little knight and go to my room, apparently.’
Malak raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you?’
‘What?’
‘Obedient.’
Ah. ‘What do you mean?’
Malak shrugged. ‘Just seems like you’ve reached a point where you care more about stopping the Mandalorians than you do about listening to the Council, and it never seemed to bother you that Kae decided something else was more important to her than their opinion. You were sad because she left, but you didn’t judge her for leaving – not the Order, at any rate.’
Revan looked away from him. ‘They didn’t give her a choice,’ he said quietly, his voice simmering with anger. ‘Even Kavar’s attempt at a compromise, was she supposed to never see them again? Her own child?’
‘So they put her in an impossible position, and she chose accordingly. All I’m saying.’
He was right, Revan realised, deciding, even as he wondered if he was letting Malak talk him into something he wanted to do anyway but wasn’t sure he should.
‘I’m going to go and see how Surik’s doing.’
‘Why? You know that entire cohort of padawans are Master’s pets.’
‘Perhaps not all of them, not after they all saw a Master lose his temper and throw a knight offering aid into a wall. Anyway Meetra’s different: she feels everything, and she was there for me when they banished Kae, the only one, apart from you.’
Malak looked mystified. ‘Alright, I’ll come with you.’
Of course he would. ‘And besides,’ Revan went on, changing tack to a frame Malak would understand, ‘if she doesn’t want to feel worse, she might be more receptive than the Council to the idea that the Mandalorians have to be stopped, and she has a lot of friends among the padawans, even some of the younger knights.’
A dozen or so might be enough, he thought, at least to start with – provided they moved quickly, and got there before the Mandalorians taught the Republic military the difference between people who did something sometimes because they were paid professionals and people who barely ever did anything else.
If not, well, hopefully Meetra Surik was as convincing as Revan thought she might be.
Seven years ago
Revan stood alone on the grass, watching the Sentinels escort his Master to the ship that would take her away. It spoke volumes, that the others had forced her to depart from out here on the plains, far from prying eyes in the Enclave docks, and it angered him that he should be the only one there, that none of the rest of them had come to see her off, despite the decades she had wasted at their beck and call. It was as if they dare not face her, after they had presumed to cast judgement, as if her great sin might be contagious, and them all at risk.
Part of him was glad at least that Malak and Vrook were off-planet. If the old man had been here and come to gloat then Revan was fairly sure he would have slain him where he stood, consequences be damned.
Kae had paused a moment at the base of the landing ramp. One of the Sentinels laid a hand on her shoulder, as if to nudge her on, and she turned back to regard him. The Sentinel stepped quickly away from her, then looked around, confused, as if his mind had not been his own for a second.
Revan smiled. All of them had always been so busy dismissing and despising her that they’d never noticed how powerful she was, or how effortlessly she could conceal it when she wanted to. If she really were the monster they feared she would have defied them, dared them to try and impose their will on her by force; she’d have killed or broken them all and taken what remained of the Order for herself, with Yusanis at her side, flaunting Brianna just to spite their ghosts.
Revan would have enjoyed that, had been half hoping she would have a go.
Her head rose to search for him, for one last look, and when she saw him he felt a wave of sorrow and love, so strong it made his breath catch in his throat.
She turned back, away from him, and climbed aboard.
After what felt like an eternity of empty silence, his commlink beeped. ‘I will still be there for you, Revan, even outside the Order. The Echani have holotech too. You may still reach me whenever you need me.’
He blinked back tears. Other words were echoing around his head: I cannot protect you from the horrors you have already suffered, child, but I can promise you this: from this day forward I will keep you safe. You need fear nothing so long as you are in my care.
‘Yes Master,’ he said, wishing he could make it sound like he meant it.
He heard her laugh, for the first time in so long. ‘I am no longer your Master, Revan. You will need to get out of the habit of calling me that.’
‘Yes Master.’
‘Revan,’ she said, trying and failing to conceal the amusement in her voice.
‘Yes Master?’
‘I think it a good sign that you are still in the mood to play your games. Just remember that it is the Order I am leaving, not you.’
It was so strange, to hear the truth and feel a lie at the same time. ‘Yes Master.’
‘And please do make sure you continue to look after Malak. That one needs a big brother, I think. It may go ill for him if he strikes out alone.’
He promised her he would, and then said goodbye for what she insisted would not be the final time.
He watched the ship rise from the surface, slowly at first, before suddenly bolting, into the atmosphere and out of his sight. He felt her presence fade, as she left a planet without him for the first time since they’d met.
He thought about what it had been like, before, to be exposed to the whims of the Order in all its vast wisdom, before she’d taken him in, and promised to keep him safe.
He thought about Vrook, about what Vrook had done to him, the first time, and why. He thought about what he himself had done, at the crossroads, where it all started, and what he would have done to Vrook, later, in front of his parents as they screamed at him to stop, as his eyes alit with fire and bloodlust poured through him, as he exulted once more in the chance to unleash himself on those who would threaten that which he held dear, in having permission.
She found him as the sun was setting, alone, seated on the grass in the exact spot where he’d stood to watch his Master’s departure. She felt the spike of surprise as he sensed her approach, saw him quickly raise a hand to his eyes, as if to wipe away tears. He scrambled around to face her, and she in turn was surprised to see how young he looked, up close. He was not much older than her and Atris, she recalled; it was just easy to forget, because he had been so often away, while the rest of them were training at the Enclave, off instead on some far away mission with his enigmatic Master.
‘Hi,’ Meetra said. ‘Can I join you?’
He frowned, and she could sense his suspicion. ‘Are you sure you want to? None of the Masters have said a word to me since the trial. They must fear I’m contagious.’
‘A true jedi does not succumb to fear,’ she said, settling down next to him, ‘which I can feel pouring off you even from the sparring room, by the way, while I’m trying to rehearse Master Kavar’s footwork exercises. Fear, grief, shame, guilt, loneliness, all feeding off each other and making everybody miserable.’
He started. ‘Can the rest of them-’
‘-Just me,’ she said quickly, shaking her head. ‘Oh I mean they’re probably wondering why they feel down in the dumps all of a sudden, and I imagine a couple of the more tiresome Masters are huddled away somewhere wittering about a hint of the cloud of the dark side, but I’m the only one who can pin it down, both what it is, and where it’s coming from.’ She gave him a bright smile. ‘So I figured I’d come and see if you wanted to talk to somebody.’
He considered her, as if he were at an auction, reappraising a piece he had previously dismissed as holding little value. ‘I know you feel much more than the rest of us, but I didn’t realise you were that strong.’
Again she shook her head. ‘It’s about connection, not strength.’
She watched him think that through. ‘I’m sorry about your Master.’
He put his arms around his knees, and huddled up into his robe. ‘She always looked after me. With the rest of them, however well I learn what they teach me it’s like they’re just waiting for me to prove I’m the monster they think I am, some mad beast they’ll eventually have to put down. Kae kept me safe.’
‘Did you know? About what she did?’ Meetra elected to ignore the other part, about being put down.
‘Of course, I was there when she met Yusanis, I saw the way they looked at each other. Then when we kept finding ourselves on missions to the Echani-’
-He laughed at the memory. ‘She didn’t realise she was pregnant until we had already returned to the Enclave and were waiting for her next assignment – we had to make our excuses quickly and then get back to Eshan before she started to show, and I expect it was only her particular talents that prevented any of the rest of them from sensing it before we left. I told the Council Yusanis had received intel he was being targeted for assassination by dissidents among his people who wanted to sever all ties with the Republic, and so had asked for us personally, given how impressed he’d been by Kae in the past.’
She was incredulous. ‘And you just hid there for months?’
‘A year, so Kae could spend some time with the child, before we had to go. She stayed with Yusanis in the palace the whole time, but I was busy. The intel about the assassination plots was real enough, although it was more the Jedi and specifically Kae herself rather than the Republic that the conspirators had a problem with, and someone had to deal with them.’
‘Deal with them?’
He looked at her, and she couldn’t help noticing that while he was still subconsciously pouring grief and loneliness into the Force, the guilt, shame and fear were gone, and she detected a trace of defiant pride. ‘Yes. Kae doesn’t know the details about that part. I didn’t want to worry her while she was expecting – I didn’t know anything about childbirth, you see; no siblings, and not really something you have much experience with growing up among the Order, so I was terrified that any shop talk would endanger her or the baby. I went through Yusanis instead, and he hasn’t spoken of it since – we had some disagreements about how I went about it.’
Shop talk. ‘Dare I ask?’
‘Best you don’t, and please keep all that to yourself.’
Meetra wondered if she’d still feel sympathetic towards him if she could see what he’d done to the would-be assassins. ‘You took a risk in telling me.’
He considered her for a moment. ‘Perhaps. Your gift may be unique, but I can sense things too, and I felt your sincerity, when you came over. Besides, you know why I did it. Kae and me are like family, even though we’re not supposed to be, and have to pretend otherwise. It’s like you and Atris – you understand, I can feel it in you, instinctive compassion and empathy through that incredible connection to the Force, so I’ll take my chances.’
She hadn’t heard a thing he’d said since the name. It felt like he’d slapped her. ‘Atris and I have never-’
‘-Oh of course not, but you feel it, don’t you, just like me, even though I’m not supposed to have a mother, and you’re not supposed to have a partner.’
She bowed her head. ‘Yes.’
‘I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to frighten you. Don’t worry, I don’t think the rest of them know how you two feel about each other. I only do because it echoes Yusanis and Kae.’
She nodded, and stood to leave.
He reached out to take her hand. ‘Thank you, Meetra Surik, for coming to talk to me. I feel better than I did.’
Awkward though it was she sensed it was heartfelt. The sadness was still there, heavy and deep, but there was slightly less loneliness, even a hint of regret, for bringing up Atris. He let go of her, and she smiled at him. ‘Any time Revan.’
He huddled back down into the robe, and looked away from her, back to where his former Master’s ship had taken her away from him. He looked so young, and all she could see was a boy who had lost his mother, but when he spoke he sounded ancient, and so tired.
‘It’s just life you know.’
‘What?’
‘The Force. For all the mysticism and theology and even what to me seem rather ill-advised forays into biology, it’s just the lives we live, and the connections we forge, creating and sustaining a kind of energy that echoes in the space around us. I think that’s where my power comes from, and Kae’s, and I think that’s why your connection is such a gift, but you have to feel it and live it to make it work; it has to be real.’
Meetra had had many long discussions with Master Kavar about the nature of the Force. He’d never said anything like that.
‘I think that’s the problem with both the Sith and the Jedi,’ Revan continued. ‘We hear so much about the Fallen's use of rage and hate to wreak horror upon the galaxy, I feel like sometimes we forget that it all starts in fear, which is so much worse when it’s unacknowledged and repressed. I think all of us still have enough of the frightened child we once were inside us, even ancients like Vandar. That’s why I think all jedi can fall, in the wrong circumstances, with the wrong whispers in the back of our minds. Kae thinks the same, although she doesn’t say it out loud. That’s why she never thought much of the rest of them, even before she met Yusanis.’
He’s just lost his Master, Meetra thought, and he’s right that the rest of them are scared of him. It’s only natural he start babbling, and do not listen to the voice in your head that says some of that made sense.
He looked up at her. ‘A jedi will always feel emotions; we can’t help it. The point is to acknowledge and channel them, so we can draw the sting and have some hope of maintaining control, instead of denying them till they enslave us. I understand you and Atris need to do what you have to to protect yourselves, and I understand you both feel a duty to your oaths. Just, don’t be ashamed of it, alright? I think that way lies darkness.’
She’d said something similar herself to Atris, the only time they’d ever come close to discussing it.
‘Thank you Revan.’ She hesitated. ‘I’ll be sparring tomorrow, with Master Kavar and Feron Tahas and one of the more promising apprentices, a young boy called Nehal whose connection to the Force the Grand Master thinks might be similar to my own. You’re welcome to join us, if you’re in the mood to hit something.’
He smiled, almost nervously. ‘I’d like that. Can I bring Malak? He and Vrook are due back in the morning.’
‘I’ve seen what Malak considers “sparring”. He’ll have to promise to go easy on the boy.’
*****
They arrived at the infirmary to find Atris standing a vigilant guard. She raised her eyes to the ceiling at their approach, sighed, and turned around to quietly close the door to the wards behind her.
‘How is she?’ Revan asked.
When Atris turned back to answer him, he could feel her resisting an impulse to look him up and down. ‘Do you care, or do you just want the latest on Taris?’
Revan had no quarrel with Atris, he reminded himself, who was understandably sick with fear at what was happening to the one she cared about most in the universe. ‘The fighting is over on Taris,’ he said calmly. ‘I can feel it too. So can the Masters, even if they don’t want to talk about it. It’s just that none of us are as connected to it as she is.’ He changed tack, dropping his guard slightly, so she could feel he meant it. ‘I’m here because she was there for me, Atris, as I’m sure you know.’
Atris relented with another sigh. She looked so tired. ‘Forgive me, I am not myself. I’m so worried for her.’ Her voice started to quiver. ‘She’s never gone through anything like this, and she’s still immersed in the echoes of it, all those lives, all that suffering.’ She wiped tears from her eyes. ‘The intensity will fade, in time, I think, but not the memory.’
Revan gestured slightly to Malak, a signal that ordered a retreat. It wasn’t time.
Besides, he was more certain now than ever that it would be, soon. ‘Will you let me know, when she feels up to receiving visitors?’
‘Of course.’
Once they’d left, Atris entered the ward to find Meetra awake, sitting up in her bed.
‘What did Revan want?’
‘Apparently he was concerned about you, if you can believe that.’
Meetra considered. ‘I can, but it wasn’t why he was here.’
‘I told him I’d let him know when he could see you. I could put him off a while if you need?’
She shook her head. ‘No, it’s ok. I’ll see him soon. It’s just-’
-She closed her eyes, and saw slaughter, heard the screams reverberating around her skull, from all the dead, those already in the ground and the many more soon to be.
‘He’s going to ask me to do something, and I might have to say yes.’
His Master flickered into holographic life before him. ‘Good evening Revan. Am I to take this sudden need to speak in the middle of the night to mean that there has been an unexpected change of heart from the Council?’
He laughed.
She smiled, yawning. ‘Ah well. In that case, what can I do for you?’
It was as if she were in there with him, leaning against the edge of the dresser above the holoport, just opposite where Revan himself sat on the edge of his bed. His elbows were on his knees, his fingers steepled together, chin resting on his knuckles.
He looked up at her. ‘I need your help, Master.’
‘I am not your Master any m-’
‘-I need you to be now, Master. Please.’
Even through the limitations of holotech he saw the spark of compassion ignite in her eyes. ‘What is it, child?’
He told her what he was planning to do. She listened attentively.
‘What do you need from me?’ she asked, once he was done.
He frowned, thinking about what it was he was after. ‘Permission, I guess,’ he said eventually.
She looked at him oddly. ‘I can neither grant nor withhold that Revan, but if you would like my advice?’
‘Please.’
‘I speak of course as someone invested in the leadership of the Echani, which vocally favours intervention, so you must consider my words in light of that.’
‘Noted.’
She hesitated a moment, gathering her thoughts.
‘You are correct that the Masters speak from a toxic fear they are incapable of even recognising in themselves, yet they are correct that there is something unexplained amidst the Mandalorians’ actions: why this crusade, and why now? Until recently they had done little to give the impression that one was coming due. These are important things we do not know.’ She hesitated, as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to continue. ‘Regardless, the situation has not changed since you and I first discussed it: the Republic in its current state cannot withstand a committed Mandalorian invasion without the Order’s support, so the Jedi will be compelled to intervene eventually, once the war becomes existential. The only thing yet to be determined is when. The sooner it comes, the sooner the death and the suffering end, and the more souls are spared altogether. The moral case is indisputable.’
‘And yet.’
‘And yet you fear the breach itself, the consequences of defying the Masters, of leading a revolt against them, for yourself, and for Malak and any others who follow you.’
‘Yes.’
‘A jedi too scared to fight is just a monk, Revan, and you have never struck me as the type to withdraw from the rest of civilisation, or to shrink from those who do. If you and any you can sway to join you can make it off of Dantooine then the Masters will struggle to take you back by force, and if you can reach and be accepted within any active Republic military unit then they will not be able to touch you. There is not a single one among them who would even think to risk a breach in the Covenant with the Republic, especially now.’
‘So it’s just really about whether I should.’
‘Indeed.’
He nodded, relieved. She always made it so clear. ‘And that is no question at all.’