(no subject)
Title: Ignite the Stars
Summary: Bastila vowed to keep the Republic safe after Revan left. Jedi Exile Arawn Sinn seeks forgiveness, of sorts, for what happened at Malachor V. The two facts are not unrelated. Mentions of Revan/Bastila.
Prompt: Runaways
Rating: PG
Warnings: Angst, rusty writing skills, attempts to incorporate some of TOR/REVAN (in a way that works, that is) in here, e.g. Bastila and Revan's son.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
It was morning when Bastila woke, only to find the familiar spot where her husband lay was empty. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, almost in shock, before noticing something else there. A note. A sheet of flimsiplast there, lying on the bedside table. She took it, read over it.
Dear Bastila,
I'm afraid I already made my choice. If anything, I don't want to leave you -- I don't want to leave you and the child behind. After all, what kind of man would I be if I did something like that? I never wanted to leave -- I thought the war would be over after I defeated Malak. But if anything, it's not over.
I have a feeling that Malak and I were being manipulated by an outside force. And the Mandalorians as well. There's something out there -- I'm not certain whether or not it's really a Sith Empire (how cliche that would be!), but I know that I'm not going to rest until it's destroyed. At the very least, it's payment for the sins I committed as Revan. For what I did to Malak, to Arawn. For what I did to everyone else.
I know it's difficult to accept, Bastila. I know I'm still struggling to accept it myself. But for the sake of duty, I have to do it. Know that no matter what happens, you are my only, my heart, and I will always love you, no matter what.
Tell Carth that you and him need to keep the Republic safe. If there is anyone I entrust with that fact, it's you two, most of all. You both have been with me since Taris. I still remember when we were just setting out on that crazy adventure, when Revan was just a bad dream, and it was just about saving the galaxy. Playing heroes and fighting crime -- you remember that?
I wanted to take Malak with me. I wanted him to see the stars with you, Carth and I. I wanted to roam the stars with you -- all four of us -- and put things right: just for once, everybody lives. But I have a feeling that whatever this threat is, whatever this new force is, it's not going to be as simple as "save the galaxy, go home". It may be the day that the galaxy is saved, or the day that I die. But I promise I won't die -- I've got too much at stake.
I can only hope you can forgive me. Maybe you won't. But know that I love you, no matter what.
Yours always,
Gann Thracin (Darth Revan)
Even now, putting down the letter, Bastila almost didn't know how to react. So many thoughts -- he did his duty nothing more warring with how could he...and then she heard the footsteps.
"Bastila?" Carth's voice was soft.
"I'm all right, Carth. It's nothing."
"Don't talk like that." Carth's voice was so gentle though, almost as if he feared offending her.
It was only then that Bastila felt something hot running down her face. It was only when she put her hand to her cheek that she realized that she had been crying.
"He just left me," she said. "Just because of some ridiculous notion he had to save the galaxy alone. I mean...I shouldn't get upset, but -- ''
"Hey, hey. Come here."
And even now, as Carth drew her into an embrace, Bastila felt almost embarrassed for losing control like that -- perhaps something in her still felt like that Jedi girl -- the girl given special attention because of her skill in Battle Meditation, and yet at the same time, a girl who never felt good enough. A girl who had spent so much time trying to better herself that in a way, she almost lost herself. Malak, she mused with a degree of bitterness, took pleasure in rubbing that in her face as he had interrogated her. And ultimately, it had been her downfall.
It would not happen again.
Long after she had recovered, long after she had splashed cold water on her face, long after she felt calm enough to talk with Carth again, she instinctively put her hand to her belly, feeling the baby kick. She almost wished that she and Revan could have had the life that Revan had told her about -- traveling the galaxy together, seeing the stars, fighting injustice. Carth would be with them, of course, and Jolee, and Juhani, and Yuthura...and Mission and Zaalbar. And maybe Malak. And, of course, their child.
And maybe Arawn -- but ever since Malachor, she had gone beyond the stars, wandering from planet to planet, exiled and alone. Bastila only prayed that the stars would protect her. She was a good woman, after all, and didn't deserve to be given the fate she was given. She was misguided, yes, but even now, was that reason to --
No. Never.
She and the other "Revenants" may have done horrible things, but they were not beyond redemption, nor compassion. Compassion was not deserved. Compassion was essential to a Jedi's life.
And it was because of that and loyalty, loyalty to the Republic, loyalty to the causes of the Republic they sought to uphold, that she and Carth would keep it strong. It would not be easy -- far from it. Malak was dead, but he had left much destruction in his wake in his quest to conquer.
There was still much to do.
***
It was many years later that Arawn finally returned. Even now, looking over the girl's face, noticing Vaner's disbelief and delight that there was another Jedi here, Bastila could not help but feel unnerved. She was indeed very different from the girl who had first gone off to war -- she seemed older now, more tired. Not ancient per se, but a far cry from the spirited, curious, righteous young woman who had gone off to war.
And even now, seeing Bastila, she seemed in shock, almost as if wondering how Bastila had survived the Purge. "Bastila? It can't be."
Bastila smiled. "I can only assume...some would say it was luck, but we both know that there is no such thing as luck." A pause. "It is good to see you again, Arawn. You've been away for far too long."
"I know." Unspoken was the question -- that uncertain question, no doubt, of the girl, defiant and yet defeated in more ways than one, standing in the Jedi Council Chambers after she had given the order to set off the Mass Shadow Generator at Malachor V. At the very least, that was what Bastila saw. She had not been there, but even now, she could imagine it. I've caused so much trouble, Bastila, those eyes said silently. Can you ever forgive me?
Bastila merely smiled. You are forgiven, Arawn. Always and completely forgiven. If anything, that was out of the question. Compassion and forgiveness were essential to a Jedi's life. Some may not have realized it -- Atris, fierce, bitter, proud Atris, was only one of them. Bastila only hoped that Atris was all right; if there were any other remaining Jedi out there -- but it was essential to a Jedi's life nonetheless. Without it, a Jedi would be nothing more than a vigilante.
"Come, Arawn," she said, gently, "Follow me. There's a lot to talk about."
"Hold on a second." The pilot with Arawn sounded almost irritated. "What about us? You're not leaving us out of whatever you're telling our General, are you?"
"Not now, Atton," Arawn said, almost quietly as if an aside to him, almost uncomfortably. Then she turned back to Bastila. "He is right, though. They have a right to know as well."
"Of course. I wasn't necessarily leaving them out. Now follow me."