71Chapter One: Initiation
Revan loved it when a plan came together.
Malak was eyeing the board, looking for a way out that wasn't there. A few feints and some bait and he was stuck. Still waiting for the larger boy, Revan smiled. "Is there a problem, Dark Lord Malak?"
"Hold on a moment," said Malak.
Meetra had figured it out, of course. She was the sharper between the two, and the pretty blonde was smiling as she lounged in the darkened room. One of her hands was toying with one of her yellow locks. "I think Revan's got you, Malak."
"Shut up, Meetra!" said Malak. "Let me think..." He put down a hand.
"Move there, and you lose," said Revan.
Malak tried for another. "Move there, and you lose," said Revan.
"Move there and-" began Revan.
"I glass the planet," said Malak.
Revan blinked. "What?"
"I said I glass the planet," said Malak.
"Malak, there isn't a system for space battles in this game," said Meetra.
Malak grabbed a box and drew it out. He pointed to the blurb. "Look at this flavor text. It says that I am a Sith Lord who has seized the space around the planet and is now launching a ground invasion. That means I will be able to launch an orbital bombardment."
"Yes, but you haven't knocked out my shield generator," said Revan.
"Fine. Then I'll shoot everything I can blast," said Malak. "There is no way that the shield generator covers every city on the planet. I'll destroy population centers! I'll obliterate sites of industry and going out of my way to kill everyone I can.
"If I can't have the planet, I'll make an example of it. No one is going to think about resisting me when I have space superiority from now on."
Dead silence.
"...You just killed like, two billion people Malak," said Meetra.
"I'm roleplaying a Sith Lord," said Malak.
Revan sat back and did a bit of roleplaying himself. "Very well. I concede the point. However, I survive the bombardment because of my shield and escape while you are occupied. I use this atrocity as a rallying point from which I gather further support. You've won a tactical victory, but you've permanently turned the galaxy against you."
"My fleet is more than sufficient to destroy you before you can rally more support," said Malak.
"Well maybe I don't engage in a direct battle," said Revan. "I strike at your supply lines and keep my army intact. You have an entire fleet of disorganized psychopaths! Before long you'll split apart and tear each other to pieces!
"Then the Republic will simply finish off the winner!"
Malak narrowed his eyes. "You are a fool, Revan! My might cannot be matched! The strongest of the Sith survive! The weak are purged! I kill where I wish, and none dare oppose me!
"I-"
The door slid open, and Bastila Shan stormed into the room. The beautiful, brown-haired girl was clad in a hastily thrown on tunic. She was angry, which meant she looked very cute. "I will not stand for all this commotion! The apprentice trials are tomorrow, and I am trying to sleep!"
"Bastila, nobody cares about the Jedi trials," said Revan, turning off the game. "The following people will be chosen. Meetra, Malak, you and some of the others who aren't important. I will be rejected and sent to... grow plants or something in the Agricultural Corps." There had been a time when he'd been aiming to please the Jedi Masters.
That time had passed.
"Oh, and I suppose you understand the Jedi Masters now?" scoffed Bastila.
"I wish I didn't, but they're pretty simple," said Revan. "They don't like anything they don't understand. They don't understand me. I refuse to reshape my identity to fit their stupid ideology. Neither does Malak or Meetra, but they're willing to pretend like they do.
"So they'll send me to a farm so they can pretend like there isn't a problem. Then they'll brainwash the rest of you into good little Jedi Drones."
"If you listened to their wisdom, you might not be so destined for the Agricultural Corps," said Bastila, putting a hand to one thigh.
"So you admit we all know how this is going to turn out," said Revan.
"I don't admit to anything!" snapped Bastila.
"We don't really know, Revan," said Malak. "And anyway, I want to be a Jedi. We're knights for justice who keep the peace."
"Is peace a good thing?" asked Revan.
"Of course," said Bastila.
"What if peace means letting the evil triumph?" asked Revan. "Or embracing the stagnation of society."
"I wish you'd stop pretending like you understand the things you say, Revan," said Bastila. "You're only using big words to disguise your own ignorance."
Revan smiled in a way he knew she found infuriating. "Is that a quote from Vrook?"
Bastila scowled. "...Well some of us pay attention to the Masters of the Jedi. And you are hardly one to talk; you just stole your ideology from some of those books you read. I'm going back to bed. I suggest the rest of you do the same if you don't want to fail your exam." Then she turned and stalked off.
Revan looked to Malak. "Want to pick this up later?"
Malak frowned. "...Revan, I really think we should come up with some kind of plan here. Don't you have any ideas on how to get in?"
"You only become an apprentice because a Master agrees to take you, Malak," said Revan. "I'm an open and shut case. My teachers are going to be giving me a bad report and talking about how I'm a potential Sith Lord.
"Knowing Vrook, he'll pit me against Bastila. Then when she gets picked after I thrash her, he'll make a big deal about how strength is not the way of the Jedi.
"My guess is that you, Meetra, will go up against Malak. That'll be a relatively even fight so you'll both be able to show off. Anyone else it would be unfair."
"You don't know that," said Meetra, narrowing her eyes.
"I'll bet you five credits that I'm right," said Revan.
Meetra remained silent. "You're on. Why are you so calm, anyway?"
"Well, I've got one or two ideas about what I'm going to do next," said Revan. "I'm going to bed. We've probably stayed up too late anyway."
Kreia did not want to be here.
In fact, she'd seriously considered not showing up. But she had not had an apprentice in a long time, and she'd grown tired of traveling alone. And the insistence of the Jedi Order had finally worn her town. So here she was, walking through the hallowed gardens of the Dantooine.
And then she saw Vrook. The Jedi Master's black hair had begun to go gray, and his hair had started to recede. Though he still wore his red robes well. "Master Kreia, I wasn't expecting you."
"My business was concluded more quickly than I expected," said Kreia as they began to walk. "I decided I ought to attend the exams if only to see how things are progressing." They came to the training room. There were many other Masters here, those who had not taken apprentices. And there were even more students. Even if every Master took a student, some would be demoted to the Agricultural Corps.
Overseeing them was a purple-skinned twilek, his headtails hanging over his shoulders. Kreia approached him quickly if only to speak to someone other than Vrook. "How are the students, Master Zhar?"
Zhar blinked. "Kreia it has been years."
"It has," said Kreia. "But I believe I asked you a question."
Zhar nodded. "Straight to the point as always I see. Malak, Meetra, and Bastila continue to advance in skills. Bastila has all the makings of being a great Jedi one day. She takes our codes seriously and has the drive to excel.
"Malak and Meetra are likewise talented." Kreia looked to the boy in question. Malak shaved his head and wore red, like Vrook. A contrast to Revan's black hair and equally black garb. Meetra wore gray and Bastila white. "Few students can match Malak's skill with a blade. Though his talent with the force leaves something to be desired, Meetra, on the other hand, has an adept mind and ability to manipulate the force that few can match. However, they have become... well..."
"They have come under the bad influence of the fourth student you showed an interest in, Kreia," said Vrook with obvious disapproval. "Revan." The scowl on Vrook's face made Kreia like the boy already. "He undermines their faith in the Jedi Council. He spouts rhetoric contrary to the teachings of the order.
"What is worse, he draws others to him. He has a charisma and ability that make him dangerous."
"Dangerous, Vrook?" asked Zhar. "Surely that is going too far. He is a child."
"All Sith were once children," said Vrook. "I need not remind you what those children did to the galaxy."
That was a fair statement of the obvious. But Kreia disliked Vrook too much to let it stand unchallenged. "Is it such a sin to have an opinion contrary to that of the presiding dogma, Vrook?"
"In the case of the Republic, it is one thing," said Vrook. "But we Jedi face the constant temptation of the Dark Side. They must have an absolute understanding of the teachings of the Jedi. Otherwise, they may become a threat to the entire galaxy."
"Is it understanding you want, Vrook?" asked Kreia. "Or merely blind obedience."
"Please, both of you, this discussion is one for another time and place," said Zhar. "Kreia, you have arrived in time for the final stages of the trials. For now, we should focus on the matches."
Kreia actually liked Zhar, as much as she liked anyone, so she conceded. "Very well then, Master Zhar. For your sake, we shall leave it for another side. Are there any potentials you might recommend while we wait."
"I believe that Bastila Shan would be the ideal choice of those you mentioned," said Zhar. "She has a remarkable talent, both with the blade and force and excels in the treating of injuries.
"She does have a quick temper, though, and she can be reckless. I believe that your policy of questioning everything may well prove to her benefit. Likewise, I think teaching her may be of some help to you in spirit. Sometimes I am concerned you spend too long alone on missions, Kreia."
"To be honest, the girl sounds insufferable," said Kreia, meaning it kindly.
Zhar smiled. "It is our role to teach, is it not? She will listen. You have always told me that many perspectives are needed to understand the force. Perhaps hers might help with your understanding."
Kreia smiled despite herself. "As usual, Zhar, you use my own words against me. Very well, I will consider Bastila, if only out of a morbid desire for consistency in an uncaring universe."
This was it.
The plan had been made now the only question was if it would actually work. For his part, Revan was a little nervous. He distracted himself from the fact by checking his lightsaber. He was disassembling it on the floor as they spoke. As he did, Master Dorak, bald and dark-skinned came forward with Zhar.
"Master Dorak, if you would," said Zhar.
"Greetings to all of you potential apprentices," said Dorak. "On this day, you will engage in a spar with other students to demonstrate your skills. Among you, some will be chosen to be trained. These deemed worthy will become Padawans in full and be set on their journey to Masterhood. The matches have been chosen based on the abilities and temperments of those present. This is to ensure both may display their full abilities.
"This mock match will have all the same rules of sparring. The combat will last until one of you gives up, is struck with a training saber, or the Masters call a halt.
"Do your best, but, as always, control your emotions."
The first two students were called to duel in front of the masters. As they did, Revan focused on putting his lightsaber together.
"Why do you always do that?" asked Meetra.
Revan looked up at the blonde. "Hmm?"
"Well, I mean you always take your training saber apart before you do a sparring match," said Meetra. "I was asking why."
"I want to make sure it's fully functional," said Revan. "One time, the crystal got jarred loose, and Vrook talked my ear off for an hour. I think that was before you came from Coruscant."
"He wouldn't do that if you didn't make a big show of yourself," noted Malak.
"Yeah, but I like provoking a reaction," said Revan. "It's... cathartic."
"Especially from Bastila," noted Meetra.
"Well she has particularly good reactions," said Revan with a shrug.
One match after another went by, with various apprentices clashing with each other. The Masters observed their match. What annoyed Revan as he finished his lightsaber was how everyone was holding back. In theory, the students should be doing everything they could to win, to show off their abilities.
But the code of the Jedi was against trying to win. So naturally, if you tried too hard to beat the other student, you'd be potential sith. But, of course, if you didn't try hard enough, you were lazy. So it was all a careful balancing act. One that Revan had found he didn't have the patience for anymore.
"The next match will be Malak against Meetra Surik," said Dorak.
Revan looked to Meetra who met his gaze. "You haven't won yet," said Meetra.
"Of course I haven't," said Revan, clicking his lightsaber crystal into place.
Out both of them went, and it began. Malak and Meetra made probing attacks at first. They were deliberately avoiding any kind of commitment. As Revan had suggested, they didn't try to win; instead, they were going through their techniques. Malak proved the stronger with a lightsaber. Meetra was soon forced to take a defensive technique.
Malak was good at offensive. Very good. His problem was that he wasn't aggressive enough. He had the size and physical power, not to mention skill, to overwhelm his opponents. The problem was that Jedi weren't supposed to be aggressive. Meetra, in contrast, was a survivor, good at adapting and going with the flow.
Meetra's talents were more in line with the Jedi Code. So she was going to win, simply because Malak could not get aggressive. Not without making all these masters frown and think about what a liability he was. So he was doomed to lose.
Revan glanced up to see Bastila watching with legs crossed and quickly edged over to her. He decided that he was going to give her a hint as to what was going on. "So, let's have a good match when we face each other."
"You don't know that we'll face each other, Revan," said Bastila in irritation.
"Actually I do," said Revan. "But Malak and Meetra are the only ones' here who could give either of us a fair match. I doubt the Jedi Masters would pit us against someone who wouldn't have a chance."
"I suppose not," said Bastila. "What are you scheming Revan? You only ever get like this when you have something planned."
"Please," said Revan, "I'm not planning to do anything." That much was true. "Just make sure your kit is set when we have our match." Then he moved off. That should be warning enough; if she didn't heed it was her own problem.
A halt was called to the match.
"Well done, both of you," said Zhar. "You have impressed us, both with your control and your skill."
"Thank you, Master Zhar," said Meetra.
Malak bowed his head. Then both returned to their seats. On went the matches, one by one and Revan watched with irritation. Finally, the last one came. "The next match will be Revan against Bastila Shan."
Revan smiled and looked to Meetra. "Pay up."
Meetra sighed. "Fine."
Credits were exchanged, and finally, Revan stepped into the ring. Bastila walked out to stand across from him, her training saber ready. Both stood silent for a moment, facing one another.
"So, Bastila, I guess we're going up against each other, just as I predicted," said Revan.
"Cease pretending to be all-knowing Revan," said Bastila, raising her saber. "We are in front of the Masters, and we must display our skills."
"Then, by all means, display them," said Revan.
Revan's saber flared to life a bright blue. Bastila's did nothing. She looked at her saber and blinked. Then pressed the button several more times as Revan walked casually forward. "I...
"What is this?"
Revan put his lightsaber to her throat. There were murmurs from the Masters observing, just as Revan had planned. Trainees were expected to take care of their own training sabers, which was why it was all the better when Revan drew out a yellow crystal. "Don't worry; it's not her fault. I swiped the crystal from her training saber."
Bastila blinked and stared. "That's not fair."
"Oh?" asked Revan. "Isn't it your responsibility to make sure your lightsaber is intact?"
"Yes but-" began Bastila.
"And aren't you the one who didn't check to make sure your lightsaber was in proper order before the match?" asked Revan. "I did give you a hint."
"It never occurred to me that one of my fellow students would ever do anything so low as to steal my lightsaber crystal!" snapped Bastila, snatching for the crystal. "Give me that!"
Revan stepped just out of reach and raised the crystal out of her reach. "I dunno. Maybe we should trade. I'm kind of sick of having a blue lightsaber anyway."
"Give me the crystal!" shouted Bastila, reaching for it.
"Say please," said Revan.
"GIVE ME BACK MY CRYSTAL!" Bastila punched him in the face. It was a well-timed right hook, but Revan recovered, letting the crystal fall from his hand to land at her feet.
He wiped off his mouth as she scrambled to set it back up. "I sense much anger in you, Bastila," said Revan in a false calm tone. "Be wary, for anger leads to the Dark Side-"
"SHUT UP!" cried Bastila, before activating her saber and coming at him.
Revan drew his own saber and took a defensive stance, parrying with a series of blows as Bastila went all out. She unleashed flurry after flurry at him. Revan stayed place, using small, efficient movements to redirect her strikes.
Finally, he pushed her blade back and locked with it. "Your rage clouds your judgment. Return to the light while there is still time."
Then he ducked aside as Bastila charged after him. "Get back here! I'll kill you!"
Revan lost his footing as she rushed at him and was knocked off his feet. But as she lowered her training saber, he rolled aside and rose to his knees. As he did, he brought up his lightsaber to her throat. Dead silence fell over the arena as Revan stood up.
Vrook was scowling particularly deeply at the moment. At both him and Bastila. Bastila froze up. She just realized she'd given in to her anger in front of all her potential masters. She hesitated, looked to Revan, then back. Then she burst out crying and ran out.
Revan stared. That was actually probably the best possible tactic she could use in this situation. It might buy her sympathy points. He wasn't going to congratulate her on it, but it was mildly impressive.
"The match is concluded," said Zhar after a moment. "These kind of childish pranks do not reflect well on you, Revan."
"Childish?" asked Revan. "Subterfuge is a legitimate tactic as is baiting an enemy into making a mistake. Bastila got hotheaded and lost because of it."
"Victory was not the point of the match, Revan," said Zhar.
Revan sighed. He'd known no one would appreciate any of his efforts. Even now, he could see them judging him. "I was trying to show my skills, and that led to victory."
At that moment, an old woman with braided white hair came forward. "Might I speak with the boy, Mater Zhar? I might be able to instill some discipline into him."
Zhara remained silent. "...If you believe you may be some help."
Oh, wonderful, yet another speech. Revan went aside with her as she regarded him with a keen eye. She seemed sharper than some of the others, somehow. "Now right now I imagine you think you've been very clever in humiliating that girl."
"Well, if I may be honest, yes," said Revan. "I displayed her weaknesses and my strengths in the same move."
"I imagine I have an idea of why you did it," said Kreia. "You seem a very resentful individual, someone who isn't understood by those around him. You ask questions that the Jedi Master's don't want to answer. When they respond with simple condemnation, you grow resentful and strike at them.
"When I came here, that girl, Bastila, was recommended to me by several different Jedi. I imagine because they hoped she would restore my faith in the Jedi or something to that effect. I was resentful of being pushed to take a student, let alone to take one who they regard as ideal.
"Even so, I was willing to take her on.
"Until now. You more than demonstrated her character flaws for all to see. No doubt none of the other Masters will take her on. You have all but ensured that Bastila Shan will be failed. You incited her into anger and discredited her. You used her emotions as a pawn in a final act of spite against the Council you resent.
"Like you, she will be sent to the Agricultural Corps. The Masters will tell her lies about how it is just another aspect of the Jedi, just as important. She will probably cry when she thinks no one is around, and she will feel like and be a failure. No doubt the Jedi Master's will be furious for a time, before eventually dismissing the master.
"You will have ruined her career for a temporary irritation to those like Vrook. So, after this petty victory, are you satisfied?"
Revan considered just how much he could spite Vrook and people like him. "...Not really, no."
"Good," said Kreia. "Because you have failed. Completely and utterly. When I saw you draw out those crystals, I was genuinely impressed. I thought it was a clever means of winning the match. Had you handed the crystal back to her right afterward, I would have chosen you. And Bastila Shan would have had the chance to impress one of the other Master's.
"Taking the crystals after deducing that you would face her was an act of brilliance. I would have gladly taken you as a padawan. You would then have had the opportunity to prove yourself. To force the Masters to reassess their judgment of you by becoming a Jedi in your own right.
"But you had to have that final act of spite, didn't you? It was not enough to prove the Masters wrong. You also had to discredit the one who they placed their hopes on. Inciting Bastila into ruining her own chances was the act of a vicious and spiteful brat. Anyone who took your training to the next level would only be ensuring the rise of yet another Dark Jedi.
"In short, I have changed my mind. You have proven the Jedi Masters right.
"Feel free to choke on the ashes of your defeat at your leisure."
And she walked off without a word.
Revan felt absolutely nothing as he walked back. It was odd. Usually, he felt a sense of smug superiority to the people around him. He didn't feel guilty, per se, or even doubt. It was more like there was an absence of his usual confidence.
It was odd.
"Revan, there you are," said Malak.
"Usual speech?" asked Meetra, smiling slightly.
"...No," said Revan after a moment. "Kreia is much better at this than Vrook."
For hours as the Masters deliberated. They picked one student after another. Revan contemplated what had happened and tried to feel something. He thought about how bad Bastila must be feeling right now and felt nothing. It was a sort of detachment from everyone and everything that he'd felt all his life — even his Mother.
Even Malak and Meetra come to think of it.
The three of them had been inseparable throughout their training. They'd trained together, spent their spare hours together. But Revan suspected that if one of them were to die, he would feel as much as he was now. He might miss their presence, but it would be like he watched a character he liked in a hologram die. Yes, he cared about them. But the caring Revan felt was not like other people felt it was sort of caring about them as extensions of himself.
There was something wrong with Revan. And the most he could feel on the subject was that his strategy had been unwise. Ah, now he felt terrible. Well, that was progress of a sort. He didn't possess actual empathy. But he did have negative emotions associated with not having empathy.
And in the end, wasn't that what being a Jedi was all about?
Revan laughed at the contradiction.
Author's Note:
This is my first Star Wars fanfic. I feel very nervous about writing all these characters. I tried to get everyone relatively in character, here. Revan is sometimes portrayed as a brooding, angsty badass. However, I feel that doesn't fit his personality at all.
Sith Lord Revan clearly had a sense of humor, programming HK 47 to refer to organics as meat bags. And Revan has some incredibly snarky, trollish dialogue throughout Kotor 1. So I'm inclined to regard him as anything but angsty. Making him a sociopath was not planned, though. Then again, this is a man who can go 100% lightside and then, on a whim, murder all his friends. So perhaps a lack of empathy is not unwarranted.
Meanwhile, Kreia was a bit more difficult. I imagined her always as sort of the cynic of the Jedi Masters.
The goal of this fanfic is to portray the events leading up to Kotor 1. That said, my only sources will be Kotor 1 and 2. I don't have the time or patience to go through all the supplementary material. And everything after Kotor 2 is an abomination that no one sane would consider canon.
That said, I will be explaining who the true Sith are and how they engineered the whole conflict. But I will be doing so using only elements from Kotor 1 and 2. I think you'll be very surprised at who is pulling the strings.
