"Love doesn't lead to the dark side. Passion can lead to rage and fear, and can be controlled… but passion is not the same thing as love. Controlling your passions while being in love… that's what they should teach you to beware. But love itself will save you… not condemn you."

"I love you with all my heart."

"I wanted to be Master of the Sith and ruler of the galaxy. But that destiny was not mine, Revan. It might have been yours, perhaps . . . but never mine. And in the end, as the darkness takes me, I am nothing."

"What am I looking at?"

Revan spoke these first five words as he opened his eyes to the sound of lightsabers clashing against each other. His voice wasn't particularly flexed towards anger or curiosity. He made a query. He remembered with startling clarity the fall of the Foundry, the death of HK-47 and the Sith advancing on him.

He also remembered quoting his apprentice.

He didn't remember how everything had suddenly changed, delivering him into a room which looked perilously similar to a plasma foundry, where two persons were fighting.

To be more precise: a Jedi and a Sith were fighting.

Maybe this was all a large metaphor of his existence. Dark side and Light side fighting each other off whereas around them everything went to hell.

"Hey you! Help Master Qui-Gon!" the voice came from a Padawan slightly away from the main battle. Either his subconscious was having a party throwing strange symbolical stuff at him, or he really was in the strangest of afterlives possible.

Revan didn't look surprised. Wherever he went, no matter why, people called to him for help.

He unclasped the lightsaber from his belt.

That drew the attention of both the Sith and the Jedi, who took their distances one from the other. Revan admired the way the Sith looked at him as if he were prey, or competition. The Jedi instead kept his thoughts to himself. He did look winded, but not overtly so.

He could reasonably argue that the Jedi's name was 'Qui-Gon'. Revan let the glow of the lightsaber bath him in red light as he ignited it.

The look on the Sith turned confused, and then angry. He was thinking, with all probability, that he had come to 'aid' him or to 'remove' him for his weakness.

The Jedi's face turned crestfallen. He probably thought he was about to have a very bad case of 'Death' at the hands of two Sith.

"Don't give me that face," Revan said. "I'm a Jedi."

Those words said, Revan charged ahead, jumping in mid-air and twisting his body as his lightsaber struck cleanly against one of the sides of the Sith's own. Sparks flew in the air as Revan spun again, delivering a kick in the middle of the twin lightsaber, sending the man backwards as he called forth the force, slamming Darth Maul against the steel wall.

Darth Maul growled as his hatred grew from being so much off-balance as to suffer the humiliation of such a quick defeat. The Sith stood back up with a fluid movement, twirling his lightsaber as he now looked at both Revan and Qui-Gon as enemies. He could still take them both on. The newcomer was a Jedi, but he was nothing the Dark Side of the Force wouldn't make short work of.

Darth Maul breathed and filled his heart and mind with hate and anger, letting his emotions fuel his strength as he snarled, before charging ahead against the newcomer.

The look of relief on Qui-Gon's face was palpable even from afar as the man drew his green lightsaber nearer, quickly coming to understand that the newcomer had attracted the ire and the attention of the Sith himself. He could work with that.

The humming of sabers flashed and hit each other, and Darth Maul found his attack deflected, the swings of his red saber meeting with a similar crimson blade of equal if not higher strength. He tried brute force, but the attacks slipped to the side, bringing up sparks when the plasma within the contained force field hit the floor.

Revan's movement were firm and to the point. He struck cleanly, throwing the Sith off-balance with a series of hit aimed for his hilt, before delivering an upward kick that nearly made Maul lose his lightsaber. The moment it took for the Sith to regain his bearings —and squash the fear of losing his lightsaber— and the force fell thickly over the Sith's body.

Darth Maul froze in place as Revan clenched his left hand in a fist, before lifting the man up with the force and tossing him all the way against the other side of the wall. His twin lightsaber clattered on the ground, turned off, as the Sith fell on the ground unconscious.

"This never grows old," Revan remarked, turning his lightsaber off. "Who was the guy?"

"A Sith who was hunting us," Qui-Gon replied. His voice was even, as he closed his lightsaber and clasped it to his belt. "I must thank you," he added. "I was unsure how the duel would have ended without your intervention."

The young padawan arrived a moment later, his breathing ragged. "Master Qui-Gon!"

"I am all right, Obi-Wan, thanks to…"

Revan blinked. "Oh, Corus Drall," he said.

"I know not of any Jedi Master named Corus," Qui-Gon said softly, smelling the false words a mile away —Jedi, always nitpicking. Still, he smiled. "You have my utmost thanks."

"Don't sweat it," Revan replied. "Uhm…just asking and I know this might sound completely off…but where are we, exactly?"

"This is the Theed generator complex of Naboo," Qui-Gon replied.

"How can you not know where we are?" Obi-Wan asked with a frown on his face.

"I tried something," Revan replied with a shrug. "A force technique…let's say I remember being on a space station and now I'm planet-bound…Naboo…" he turned thoughtful. "It doesn't ring any bells to me."

"Why is your lightsaber red?" Obi-Wan asked next. He really was the Padawan.

"Because the crystal within the hilt is red?" Revan replied. "They do teach that at the academy still, don't they?"

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said sternly. "Forgive my padawan; he is still shaken by the experience."

"It's his first time fighting a Sith?" Revan asked. "It doesn't get easier," he shrugged.

"I would assume as much…considering the Sith are gone from the galaxy," Qui-Gon began, only for Revan to blink.

"Repeat that."

Qui-Gon frowned. "The Sith are gone from the galaxy. It was a surprise to see one, but—"

"See, we've got a problem," Revan said calmly. "And I hate problems. I'm going to ask a very simple question, and I'd like to receive an answer."

"Hey," Obi-Wan said, affronted at Revan's tone.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon pacified his padawan with a glance.

"What year is it?" Revan asked.

Qui-Gon answered.

Revan took a deep breath.

He looked around, as if lost.

"I better get some fresh air."

He began to walk away, but as Obi-Wan tried to speak once more, this time Qui-Gon stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Master," Obi-Wan said. "I don't trust that man."

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon replied softly. "He saved my life. You are right about not trusting him completely, but he is a Jedi."

"If you say so, Master."

"We will of course speak with the Jedi council of this."

Obi-Wan nodded.

Outside, Revan gazed at the vast city of Naboo and shuddered. Once already, he had been 'displaced' in time. Hundreds of years had passed, and yet, again, the Force had done this to him. He wondered why. Was there a reason? He didn't know what to accept; the fact that the Force had no problems in ignoring the laws of time to move him as he pleased, or the fact that he had no control over it.

Control.

Choice.

If only the Force had left him the choice, he would have gladly accepted for the Light. Yet the Force had acted like a bully, a two-credit thug, and had thrown him ahead of his time for no plausible reason.

No plausible and visible reason, of course, but maybe it was just a matter of time before he found out.

He had given a fake name, although he did wonder how that would turn out. Technically, the fact his identity was that of Revan hadn't been common knowledge during his time as Corus Drall. The Jedi Council of Dantooine knew of the 'fake identity' and yet they trained him in the Force, making him a Jedi again.

Even if the Council of hundreds of years in the future didn't know about the fake-identity of his, there still should be records of his fake self as a Jedi.

He wondered idly if the fact he was hundreds of years old warranted now a rise in rank —last he remembered, he was a Padawan still.

He chuckled.

The breeze grew cold against his skin.

It was a new age and a new world.

He wondered how well he'd fare.

Still, everything was going to be all right…as long as he had a say in it.

Author's notes

The Muse decided I had to try my hand at a Star Wars fanfic.

My knowledge of Star Wars is limited to Kotor 1 and 2, and barely the movies. I'll of course scurry the Wiki for stuff, but know that I really am not going to care about following Canon or stuff like that more than it will be required. (Canon Rails? WHO THE HELL NEEDS CANON RAILS!)