CHAPTER 1

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Bastila Shan gazed absently at the rain drops that pelted the window. Coruscant's WeatherNet had clearly malfunctioned that day. It was well into the afternoon in her timezone, and everyone knew that it was only ever supposed to rain at night, if at all. Somewhere a sorry engineer was probably bustling to fix it before the rain ruined some politician's overpriced suit. Worse yet, if it didn't get fixed within the hour, there would be far worse damage than a wet suit. The poor chap was likely to be fired for such a gross mistake.

Bastila snickered. A sign of things to come, she thought wryly, her eyes searching a gloomy sky that was definitely not suitable for an outdoor rally.

Still, she couldn't help but feel a pinch of curiosity. She'd never heard him speak before. Certainly not in person. He was supposedly very charismatic. Already, thousands of Jedi had been swayed to his cause, and even thousands more after the Jedi Council had finally sanctioned the war. Seemingly all except her.

No, she trusted in the wisdom of the Council. Despite their sanction, the Council still cautioned against any Jedi joining the war. They still maintained that patience should be exercised until the true threat revealed itself. A thought that Revan had scoffed, time and again. But Bastila wasn't about to join him in his brashness. No, she would keep a cool head, and obey the will of the Council.

Still...

Her curiosity nagged at her. Today's rally might very well be the last call Revan would give for the Jedi to join his cause. She might never get another chance.

As if to give her another sign, a ray of sunshine broke through the clouds, the rain abating to a light sprinkle.

Lucky engineer, she thought. He might yet keep his job.

She looked down at the datapad in her lap. Her studies for the day had been completed hours ago. She knew that continuing to read ahead would be the wiser choice, but her eyes already felt strained. Shifting on her nook on the window sill, she stared back out the window. The sprinkles had already vanished, the clouds fleeing from the sun, though one stubborn thundercloud still loomed ominously in the distance. Nevertheless, the sun looked warm and inviting after so much rain. And she might never get another chance.

She made her decision, and stood up from the sill, pocketing her datapad. The Jedi Temple's study hall was empty but for her. Most Padawans typically trained with their Masters at this hour. But not Bastila. Her Master was far too busy with her duties on the Jedi Council. At the moment, Master Nomi Sunrider was presiding over the Council's session currently in progress. She wouldn't likely get out of the meeting until dinner. Which was to Bastila's advantage. No one need ever know where she was that afternoon. Besides, it wasn't as if she was actually going to join the Revanchists. She had long ago made up her mind concerning them. It was simply curiosity, nothing more.

Bastila made her way out of the study hall and down the marbled corridor beyond. If she hurried, she could catch the next transit to the Senate District and arrive at the Senate building before the rally began. She reached the main entrance, giving a brief nod to the sentries, and stepped outside. It was still a bit chilly out, and she couldn't help but shiver as she zipped her hooded robe. She took a deep breath, exhaling the last of her hesitancy, before briskly walking down the marbled flight of steps. No one ever had to know but her.

Quite a crowd had gathered at the rally, despite the threatening shadow cast by that distant thundercloud the errant WeatherNet had left behind. Besides, the sun melted away any fear of further malfunction. And not even the rain could keep them all away. Not when the Revanchist himself was speaking. The press encamped the outdoor podium, their microphones crammed as close as possible to the stage. A few notable politicians and their security teams likewise crammed close, all trying to stake their claim on the Revanchist for their campaigns. Then there was the rest of the crowd. Thousands of citizens filled the square, with curious Jedi sprinkled among them, ready to give Revan a fair hearing now that the war had been sanctioned.

Unfortunately for Bastila, she was late. Very late. She had missed the train by seconds, and had been forced to wait for the next one. Now, she stood at the edge of the crowd. She could hardly hear a thing with all the hooting and cheering, let alone see. She huffed in frustration. All this way, just to be shut out in the nosebleed section. Her eyes searched desperately for any spot that would at least give her a better view. But it was hopeless. Unless she was a VIP, she'd never...

But, no. She was a VIP. At least, she had been before, somewhat. More that her Master, being the Grand Master of the Jedi Order, was the VIP to the Senate, and Bastila had been granted a staff pass to accompany her from time to time. Bastila groped in her pocket, searching. There it was. She pulled out her Senate ID card. Maybe, just maybe...

She walked toward a nearby security officer. "Excuse me," she called out, trying to be heard above the din.

The officer eyed her warily.

She held up her ID card. "I'm afraid I arrived late. I'm on Master Nomi Sunrider's staff. Would it be possible for me to get any closer?"

The officer's eyes widened just a little, and by that Bastila knew she had won. He spoke into his commlink, and received a garbled reply.

"Follow me, miss."

He deftly steered her around the crowd, circling the edges of the square. They reached the VIP area that was cordoned off from the public. Another officer stepped forward and escorted her past the dividing cord. To her surprise, she was granted standing room toward the front, to the far right of the floating camera droids. Only a thin row of politicians and fawning reporters stood between her and the man on stage.

She at last gazed up, getting her first up-close look at the Revanchist. He was of average height. Tall, but not too tall. There was nothing particularly imposing about his physique. No, that's not what captivated her. Nor was it his masked visage, cloaked in a mysterious hood.

It was his voice. At last, she could hear it quite loudly, even without the help of the outdoor PA. It was mesmerizing, even with the mask's vocabulator distorting it slightly. Smooth. Silky. Deep. Almost...seductive. And that was certainly what he had done with the crowd here. They had all been seduced, cheering his pseudonym between his brief pauses. But Bastila hadn't been there long enough to be seduced by his words just yet. She hadn't even caught what he was saying, so enraptured had she become with the cadence of his voice. But at last her rational mind overrode her initial shock. She began to parse his words, critically dissecting them, looking for any excuse at all to pick his little speech apart.

"My friends," he was saying. "We have at last won a great victory. Not one fought on the field of battle, but one fought in our hearts. For too long the Republic's heart has grown cold with fear of the enemy. But no more. Today, our sons and daughters have taken a stand. They have overcome fear with courage. And I tell you now that while the war is far from over, it is that very courage-the courage that stands up to evil and says, 'No more!'-that will win this war. For while we show such courage, they can never claim victory over us.

"And so it is with great pride in the citizens of the Republic that I have watched our ranks swell this past week. We the people are willing to lay down our very lives to keep this great civilization safe. I am proud to be one of them-one of you."

The crowd erupted in praise. But Bastila rolled her eyes. As ardent as his voice was, he spoke nothing but rhetoric. It would take far more than mere words to seduce Bastila Shan to his cause.

"Now I know there are some of you here," he said, continuing as the cheers died down, "who have doubts. Some of you are Jedi, like me. Perhaps you are still waiting for the approval of the Jedi Council."

Bastila clenched her fists.

"I warn you: If you are waiting for their permission, this war will pass you by."

Bastila reacted without thinking.

"Liar!" she shouted.

That one word she would regret for a long time to come. Before she knew it, a microphone was shoved in her face. The crowd had fallen so silent she was afraid she had lost her hearing. She caught sight of a camera droid training its lens of an eye on her.

Oh, Force! she thought. If Master Sunrider sees this...

Revan's voice broke through her panic. "If you have an opinion you would like to offer, I do welcome the discussion." His mask tilted to the side curiously, studying her.

But Bastila could do nothing but stare at that mask, frozen in terror.

"Go on, young Jedi. I won't bite."

A small peal of laughter spread through the crowd, before they fell silent again, waiting in anticipation.

"I-I..." She took a deep breath. "You...you act as though the Jedi Council hasn't sanctioned the war. But they have. It's been sanctioned for months!"

"If it were truly sanctioned," he replied patiently, "I would be speaking at the Jedi Temple right now."

"Oh, please! If you are persona non grata at the Temple, it is only because you use all your camera time to insult the Council at every chance you get."

"Tell me, Padawan. Do your Masters encourage you to go to war, or do they scare you away from it? Because no matter the reason I am not welcome at the Temple, I still tell the truth. The Jedi Council discourages any Jedi from joining this war. I personally know several Padawans whose trials for knighthood were canceled when their Masters found out they wanted to enlist."

Bastila's hands went to her hips, her courage building. "If their trials were canceled, it was because they demonstrated impatience."

"Again, perhaps you will answer this question more directly, Padawan. What is your ultimate duty as a Jedi?"

"To...to uphold the ideals of the Republic, of course."

"And what might those ideals be?"

Bastila crossed her arms, her brow knitting. At last she understood what he was driving at, and she didn't like it one bit. Mostly because she didn't have a good answer. Or, at least, not one that sounded very good for the media. She bit her lip, and mustered the only true answer there was.

"To protect the Republic," she said.

He held up a gauntleted hand. "No, the people of the Republic. The Republic is not just an ideal. It is people. Their hopes and their dreams. Their freedom and their safety. Can you honestly say that waiting patiently in an ivory tower for the approval of the Council upholds those ideals? That you are truly doing your duty as a Jedi?"

Bastila averted her eyes for a moment, fresh doubt now gnawing at her mind. The doubt didn't last long, however.

"But the Council says the true threat has yet to reveal itself."

She could almost imagine him rolling his eyes behind his mask. "They're looking for ghosts that aren't there. I say again, if you wait for their approval, this war will pass you by. And you will have done nothing to protect the Republic, as a true Jedi should."

She would have replied, but he turned back to the crowd, ending their so-called discussion. The microphone was whisked away instantly.

"I would like to remind all of you here why it is I wear this mask. It is because of people. More specifically, because of one person. One person who had the courage to stand up and say, 'No more!' One person who gave her life to do the right thing, and retained her honor. Though the people she defended were slaughtered, and she with them, her courage lives on in us, to carry on the fight. I wear her mask as a symbol of her courage. And I vow today, once again, that I shall not cease to wear it until this war is won!"

The crowd erupted in applause once more, but Bastila wasn't finished. She ripped the microphone from the nearest reporter's hands.

"Not even to eat or sleep?" she said smugly, the microphone carrying over the noise, stunning the crowd to silence.

Revan's shoulders shrugged under his Jedi robe. "A man's gotta shave, sweetheart."

The crowd roared with laughter. Bastila's cheeks reddened. She'd had enough. Shoving the microphone back at the reporter, she stalked off through the crowd, making her way out of the square. But the crowd paid her little heed as Revan resumed his rhetoric. She didn't hear a word he said, her mind still fuming with insults she would have liked to have given him, if only she had been faster on her feet. But just as she was leaving the square, she realized the sun had disappeared. She glanced up to see that the distant thundercloud wasn't so distant anymore. A drop of rain splattered onto her face. Then another. And another. The crowd behind her began to disperse in dismay.

Serves him right, she thought.

She only hoped the poor WeatherNet engineer kept his job for making her day.