Chapter 80 / Ceremony

Xxx

Some might say that the fable of the Forever Padawan is an inspirational tale of redemption, just like the story of my Master. They are wrong.

Master Surik broke her chains and returned to the Order to lead all to the path of Light.

Padawan Loran withdrew from the Order, positioning herself in the Republic Fleet like a poor imitation of Revan Starfire.

-Knight Neesa Ahto, "A History of the New Jedi Order," Tython Press, 3912 BBY

-compiled by Archivist Lanna T'so, University of Coruscant

Xxx

3951 BBY, Fifth day, Ninth Month, Hoth Standard Cycle, in the First Year of the Revan Redeemed Age

Xxx

Ch'tera was a cave city, hewn in the depths of a long-frozen volcano. Near Hoth's southern pole, it had escaped the worst of the Sleeper's predations, and was now, by default, the largest population-center left on the planet. Nearly all twenty thousand of its inhabitants seemed to be out on this day to welcome the planet's second-most infamous daughter home-all crowded into the city's largest sports arena, tunneled into bedrock a kilometer below Hoth's frozen surface.

"You okay?" Revan's armored companion whispered into the comm-link inset in her ear.

"Yeah." Revan tried to quell her nerves, tapping the comm-link back. "But I don't see anyone who looks like the vids."

"Just smile. Make her come to you. Sheris didn't know her parents all that well either, did she?"

"I don't know. We never talked about this."

"Of course not," muttered Polla Organa. "Would've been too practical. See that woman waving? Is that her?"

"No idea." The sent in question had red hair, but so did more than half the crowd. This woman's hair looked artificial. She looked older than Revan had expected-but of course, she would be-older.

My mother would be old, too, if she were still alive.

"Sheris! Darling!" As their hover pad settled at the center of the arena, the woman broke free from the crowd and ran toward them, holo-cams documenting her every move.

"Mother." Revan stood still and let the woman embrace her.

XXX

One of my regrets is that I never truly knew Revan Starfire. Not the hero who defeated the Eternal Sith Emperor, nor the warrior who defeated Darth Malak. I was very young when I followed her orders in the Mandalorian Wars, and she died in her battle with the Emperor before I had the chance to forgive what she had done to me.

Padawan Sheris and I have spoken of Revan many times, but what was said between us-and what I have shared with you, Atton-must remain private. As I keep the secrets of your past, you will keep hers-even from my other disciples.

Master Meetra Surik, in private notes to Jedi Knight Atton Rand, 3923 BBY (est.)

[Collection of the Rand family, Ord Mantell.]

-compiled by Archivist Lanna T'so, University of Coruscant

Xxx

In the end, it took the Republic less than a Hoth Standard Day to come for Revan. Two Fleet officers appeared in the doorway of their private dining room before Revan and Aeryn Loran had even finished their evening dessert.

"Admirals-" Revan let the word drawl out slowly. Dar would have never called them by their titles, she realized a beat too late. "Uh, Rew! Denis! So good of you to come for me. My pilot was just re-negotiating her fee, and I found it to be entirely unreasonable."

"Got it," Polla buzzed in her ear. "This where I get off?" From across the room she folded her arms, managing a slouch in full plate armor, and mumbled something over her mic that sounded like a Huttese curse.

"My pilot will return to her ship, now," Revan added pointedly. She'd been telling the woman to leave for the last six hours. "I have no more use for you. Goodbye, Desiderata."

"Pleasure doing business, General." Polla mock-saluted and turned to the door. "This isn't goodbye," she added on their comm-link, "You know that, right?"

I hope. But Revan couldn't say anything out loud when she was kissing Admiral Denis Cein lightly on the cheek. She'd never seen Dar do that, but she'd caught enough of the woman's lectures about etiquette to think it was probably in her deck of moves.

To Rew Ekkumi she gave only a cold stare. Diplomacy only went so far.

"You're looking well," the woman told her.

Revan shrugged. "Wonderful to see my family again."

The Telosian's lips pinched as Revan realized a beat too late what had probably happened to Rew's family. On Telos. Damn you, Malak!

No answer. The ghost in her head was as gone as if he'd never been there at all.

"I am sure it was wonderful for Meez Loran, as well," Rew recovered, smiling at Sheris's mother. "So lovely, having your daughter returned after all this time."

Aeryn nodded and wiped her eyes. "It's a miracle!"

There was a long and terrible pause.

"I assume you were told to fetch me, Denis…?" Revan broke the awkward lull with Dar's best clipped tones.

"We decided it would be in our mutual interest to give you an escort," Denis Cein adjusted the sleeve of his dress uniform, brushing off an imaginary speck of dust.

Right. Can't have your asset running off on her own. "Just who has been in charge since Old Scaly retired?"

"We'll speak of that later." Cein advanced, looking like he was going to take her arm. "In private, General."

"Call me Sheris, please…." Revan gave Sheris's mother an apologetic shrug as she sidestepped the Chiss, giving the admiral a glare that, to her satisfaction, made him take a step backward.

The woman stared open-mouthed. "You'll come again, Sherry!" Aeryn had been showing Revan holo-pictures of a serious-looking red-headed child. Sheris had looked nothing like Revan. She had surgery to look like me. Smaller mouth, chubby cheeks, a round chin and a nub of a nose. "Your father wanted to come today, but… you know, the illness…."

"The illness," Revan echoed. "Right." There had been some story about the father she'd barely heard, listening to Polla's lecture in her headset instead.

Xxx

"If you think I've said my piece just wait until I tell Ma what you've done, tricking this poor lady who just wants her kid back! What're you gonna do if she asks you to stay? Break her heart?"

But Aeryn Loran had not asked Sheris to stay. Indeed, she had asked several times, almost nervously, when Sheris would be leaving.

Xxx

"Rattigap forgets," the mother continued. "Sometimes he still thinks he's with his other family."

The man's face in the holos was a stranger's, just as much as Aeryn's.

"Goodbye, Mother," Revan wasn't sure if Dar would have hugged Aeryn Loran or not. Would Sheris have hugged her? Revan took a step forward, only to have the woman take a nervous step back, just like Denis Cein had a moment before. "I promise," Revan told her. "I will come back."

And she would, although it would take her own runaway daughter to make her do so.

XXX

As soon as the secondary target was sighted, a probe droid with full hunting functionality was dispatched to the Hoth System to investigate and notify the local authorities for detainment.

Within a day its transponder beacon stopped functioning.

The droid's smoldering pieces were later found in a hangar bay in the Ch'tera City Crater Complex. Its parts had been stripped, possibly indicating the assault was the work of vandals, although the carbon scoring seemed too precise for the work of common ruffians.

Furthermore, the secondary lead proved false. To this day no connection between Padawan Sheris Loran and the primary target, Polla Organa, has ever been proven.

In light of this failure, we recommend increasing surveillance on Deralia, where rumors of Seiran Organa still persist….

Agent K-89, Transgalactic Underwriters Guild, Investigator's Unit

"We stamp out insurance fraud with a duracrete fist!"

3951 BBY

[Note: most mentions of Polla Organa reference a mythical smuggler with a heart of gold, but this dispatch seems professional. Some scholars suggest that Polla Organa was a contemporary-or an alias-of General Sheris Loran.]

-compiled by Archivist Lanna T'so, University of Coruscant

XXX

"I have a bounty on Polla Organa Wen," the droid began. Sneaky bastard had snuck up while Polla was checking the Bounty's acceleration struts to make sure it'd made it past atmosphere. "I believe you are traveling in her company and I am authorized by the Transgalactic Underwriter's Guild to conduct a full investigation-"

Polla was still wearing the helm. She turned around and shot, quick as she could. Later, when she was safe in space, Polla had the time to think that she must've had the luck of the Force for her aim to be so true. Those Gee-Six units were armor-plated, and she'd had to hit it just below the chassis' power belt.

The droid buzzed out and crashed.

Polla ran up the landing ramp and into their-her-ship.

"Damnit," she told the nav comp, the yoke, the quiet comm board. If there was one investigator unit there'd be more.

"Home," she whispered as she plugged in the nearest coordinates. With this crapbag of a slow ship and the fact that the Machine Ships had never plugged a route to Deralia (count blessings), Polla was damned lucky if she'd get there in two weeks.

A lot in the galaxy could change in two weeks. Polla swiveled the dial on the wideband with her left hand as she steered the Bounty up and into the black, past the Republic capital perched in orbit and its two corvette escorts. The capital wasn't the Great Hunt. She didn't recognize it-probably one of the Republic vessels that had scarpered off just when they were needed the most.

Polla wondered if they'd taken Revan aboard like a good little Jedi. The woman barely had the Force anymore-she was practically helpless-

Polla heard herself laugh at that thought.

No more helpless than me. "Try not to get into any trouble," Polla vowed, as the galaxy vanished into points of light. "We'll meet again, Fragment. Even if I have to put a bounty on you myself."

She raised an imaginary glass to Bossypants, who would have understood.

Xxx

WERE RADRIK LAMAR AND RATTIGAP LORAN THE SAME PERSON?

This wild rumor originated two years ago in a Hoth vid-sheet but was quickly quashed by local authorities. It is entirely possible that General Sheris never heard of it. If it were true, Revan Starfire would have been her half-sister.

In any event, it makes the tales of their identical gene-print slightly more credible than the concept that some ancient technology could twist Human cells and alter an identity down to the mitochondria!

"Stranger Than Fiction," Coruscanti Gossip Publishers, 3947 BBY

[Archivist's note: I find it more credible that Rakatan technology could alter cells than that Revan Starfire and Sheris Loran could be half-siblings separated at birth-an entirely tired trope, eclipsed only by secret clones.]

-compiled by Archivist Lanna T'so, University of Coruscant

XXX

'Away,' meant straight into orbit. Revan had pocketed the aural comm-link to Polla without even a chance for farewells. No one spoke during the journey, and Revan knew Dar well enough to know she'd have stayed quiet too, probably assessing everyone's weaknesses by the way they walked or something. Revan herself couldn't tell much of anything about Denis Cein. With Rensha, there'd always been that darting tongue and her teeth. But Denis Cein's Chiss face was impassive as a statue.

Rew Ekkumi was another story. "Explain yourself, Revan," she demanded when the three of them were finally alone in what looked like Cein and Ekkumi's shared domestic quarters. "What was the point of this exercise?"

"I am Sheris," Revan told her calmly.

Denis laughed. "Told you, Rew." He gave Revan a sweeping bow. "You've made it damned awkward for us to say otherwise."

"Exactly." She wondered if Dar would have bowed back. Or curtsied. Malachi had tried to show Revan how to do a Coruscanti curtsey for one of their state dinners once-the sight had nearly put Korrie in stitches-

Revan realized she was smiling and stopped.

"What happened to the other one?" The tension in Rew's voice could have been from a lot of things, but Revan remembered their last encounter all too well. She'd tried to kill the woman while possessing a bloated Sith-before Yuthura stopped her by killing the Sith. "Is she dead?"

"Your mindwiped version of me?" Revan walked carefully to the window and looked out. It seemed like something Dar would do. Hoth turned below them, a ball of blue-white ice. "She sacrificed herself to save us all."

Rew Ekkumi snorted. "Haven't changed a bit, have you? You'll need to give us more than that."

Revan traced her metal hand from one star in the viewscreen to the pearl of the planet below. "My duplicate abandoned her body and overtook the Emperor's consciousness. I could explain the technical matters more, but your ignorance of all things Force-related would make it hard for you to understand."

"No need. Carth and his droid gave us and Master Surik a… briefing on the… options," Denis broke in. "But did it work?"

"Presumably." Revan didn't want to turn around for fear her face would twitch, or one of them would say 'Carth,' again, and Revan might start laughing, and what would they think of that? Dar would never have laughed.

Denis cleared his throat. "There's been no sign of Imperial aggression-in fact, an Imperial envoy has sued for peace. The possessed among the Fleet have all gone back to being themselves. We're keeping them under observation, of course-"

"Of course." Revan kept her voice light. "I did watch the news on the journey here. I'm quite aware you declared victory over the Sith without me."

"Disappointed?" Rew's voice was too sharp.

"Only that I missed the chance to see Admiral Onasi's promotion." Revan turned then, anger keeping her voice serene. "You know, my duplicate would have been so proud."

"Carth is devastated to lose his wife," Rew shot back like they were having it out at a Deralian swimming hole over the summer holidays. "I doubt very much he'd want to look at you-"

"That is… hence why I stayed away." Hence why? Revan allowed herself a dry laugh. "This must be terribly difficult. Perhaps you will convey to him my sympathies for the measure of his loss. But I do understand. I was close to her, too." It was easier to sound like Dar than she'd thought it would be. "I expect he has returned to Coruscant with his son-"

"Actually, no. Carth left for Telos shortly after his promotion. He's taking some well-deserved leave. We didn't pry for details." Denis Cein stepped between them like a referee with a teapot, setting two cups down along the ridge of rail lining their view. As he poured, Revan finally saw what she'd been watching for-the ungainly shape of the Telos Bounty, shooting past their viewscreen as it streaked toward the jump-points. Polla had to be pushing the engines to leave an ion trail like that, but she probably knew what she was doing

"-haven't seen him since," the Chiss concluded. "We expected him to return with his son, but all the Jedi came alone-"

"I'm sorry, which Jedi?" It might be in character that Dar wouldn't have cared, but Revan did. The Bounty was gone. At least one of us got home, Polla Organa Wen.

"My Jedi," a new voice said, from the door. "What do you wish to happen now, Revan?" The new voice came from the door, announcing itself in the Force as much as out loud. The voice belonged to a slight woman with knotted black braids. She had a red star on her cheek and was wearing Jedi robes. In Revan's current condition, the woman's Force-power seemed like a scream, although she remembered a different impression from their brief meeting on Oas.

Revan willed her pulse to stay even at the sight of Surik. Watch her carefully, Dar had warned her in Rakatan the day they met on Oas. She's in league with Oerin Lin. Another one of Vima's former pawns, and as dangerous as he is.

"I wish to see my son," Revan told Surik. "I want the freedom to see him. I want to be in his life."

"Is that all?" Meetra's mouth tugged up. "And, Denis? What does Fleet wish to be in return?"

From the Jedi's mocking tone, Revan wondered if she'd overdone the syntax.

"I'm sure Sheris knows." The Chiss leaned against his command chair. "Doesn't she?"

Revan yawned, flexing the fingers of her golden hand. "Do I?"

"Don't you?" Meetra tilted her head, turning back to Denis and Rew. "Admiral Cein, I think the padawan and I need to talk."

"I think the padawan and you need to talk," Denis Cein agreed.

"I think the padawan and you need to talk," Rew echoed.

"Alone," Meetra said sweetly.

Without another word the two admirals left the room, leaving Revan alone with Meetra Surik, before a vista of stars.

A strange feeling, feeling the Force coil around her limbs like honey, thick and sticky and entirely out of her control. Is she messing with my mind, too? How would I know?

"You might know. But most would not," Meetra answering the unspoken question was less than reassuring. She laughed lightly. "But have no fear, Revan. Oerin was right. Your mind is a much more interesting place with you in it." She brought her hands out, palms raised in a gesture of peace. "You have nothing to fear."

"I wasn't afraid," Revan lied.

Xxx

Dearest Half-Brother,

I know the big secret now.

Just wish I'd heard it from a blood relative instead of Master Jorde.

I wish you'd told me. You're buying lunch today. Cafe Cappise. Noon. Prep your excuses.

-H.

P.S. If you comm Mother about this, I'll tell your wife about Knight Feya and Eos V.

-Undated letter found in Kore Racharn's archives, undated. [Note: No record of a Knight Feya exists from this time period, which has led some academics to theorize this seemingly personal missive was in fact some kind of cypher. I prefer the more plebeian explanation: Kore Racharn had a half-sister. Could this be the mysterious Hoth Lamar?]

-compiled by Archivist Lanna T'so, University of Coruscant.

XXX

Approximately the same time…

(Nar Shaddaa Rules)

Xxx

The first time Kore saw Mother again was on the vids while he was waiting for Tee'raa to finish her race. Tee'raa was famous enough in the swoops now that Kore got to wait for her in the investor's box area with floating holo-projectors and snacks and Nautolan waiters. (He still wore goggles and a hat, though, because you could never be too careful.)

He was about to order another fizz-pop when the holo-projector screens switched from showing the race (with Tee'raa in the lead!) to showing an arena full of sents and two red-haired ladies hugging.

The younger red-haired lady was Mother.

Everyone around Kore in the investor's box had a lot to say then-and a lot of it was rude. Kore wondered if they'd be as rude if they knew it really was Mother who could fight them all-and not Sheris-but he wasn't gonna tell them. When Tee'raa came back-she'd won-she'd heard already because the news was all over the tracks. Thanks to the droid-Mission who'd called them the other day, Tee'raa knew Mother was Mother… just not which mother she was.

Kore wasn't sure if he should spill the beans. Since Mother must've had a reason to be playing Sheris, he decided not to say anything. Discretion, as he'd learned as an Eg, was always safer until your team had all the facts-and right now the only facts he was working with were that Mother was coming for him (obvious) and that Mother was pretending to be someone else.

She had to have a good reason!

"You liked Polla Revan, right?" he asked Tee'raa. Testing the waters.

Technically, Tee'raa signed back, steering their speeder through the traffic like a whiz. The wind whipped her lekku over Korea's voice so he couldn't get a clarification on that before she bolted to a stop. What the poo doo?

Lena's pleasure cruiser, the Blue Ghast, had a visitor bobbing next to it at their private sky-dock: a blue disc-shaped Corellian ship called the Blue Ghost, according to the name on its side.

That computer! Tee'raa signed to Kore. (Or maybe the word she used was 'droid.' Her lekku whipped by too fast for him to tell.)

"It's okay," Kore said. For a second he wanted to hope-but no. He figured the ship was really the Ebon Hawk, but Mother wasn't on it. The broadcast from Hoth had been in real-time. Sents could go pretty fast in space now, but not that fast.

It's Mission's ship. But we told that droid not to come! Tee'raa didn't like surprises unless they involved winning a race she had expected to lose. Why did she?

Kore had an idea. "When Mission the droid called she said she was with Carth Onasi. Maybe Cath Onasi's looking for me because he wants to see Mother?"

Carth wants to see your mother? Tee'raa's brow ridges shot up.

"Well… .yeah." Oops. Kore was trying to be discrete.

Revan's too famous. Tee'raa made a face. Our operation can't afford this kind of attention. She let out a sigh and her t'chun twitched. Don't think I want to meet the murdering sleemo who blew up Taris anyway.

That had been Father, but Kore understood what she meant. And it was awkward, considering what had happened to the real Mission, and how Mother had done that.

"I'll go home to Coruscant when Mother comes for me, but I'll be back to visit," Kore promised.

No way! You're gonna stay with us. Tee'raa still wasn't used to the idea that Kore must leave, even if he kept telling her he had to-but then Tee'raa landed the speeder and everything was chaos with Carth Onasi and Dustil Onasi and the purple Twi'lek Kore remembered from the Temple, and Mekel Jin plus two screaming babies who had green hair. Plus, plus, the Tee-Three that was Mission Vao-just like the twins.

The only one missing was the real Mission Vao's ghost, but Kore would never see her again.

"Have you seen her?" Carth Onasi pulled Kore away from the chaos. He was wearing a new uniform, one with an admiral's stripes. It seemed a thousand years ago that Kore had had to learn all of the stripes and stars for the Republic military. "Or seen your father? Does Malak know if it worked?"

"My father is dead and if you mean Lena Wee? She's at the commodity exchange floor on Third-days," Kore pretended not to get it. What had happened with the Weequay being possessed by his parents was none of Carth Onasi's business.

Carth Onasi sure looked flustered for an admiral. "Blast! You know who I mean."

"You need to be more patient." Like Kore was trying to be. It wasn't awful here. He could be patient if he had to-even if Leeshansintina kept writing-demanding-he come home. Were women always so demanding? Someday, maybe Kore could ask Carth Onasi, but now didn't look like a good time.

"I don't want her to find me," Carth Onasi said gloomily. "But I bet she'll find you, Korrie. Do you… you know what really happened?"

It's Kore. Not Korrie. But he'd said that already twice-in the first five minutes that they'd been off the ship-in between Mekel Jin slapping him on the back and calling him 'cousin,' and Yuthura Ban exclaiming over how much he'd grown. "I think so. I just saw the vid on Hoth. Have you seen it? She did a really good job."

Kore thought he understood why Mother had done it. It was a nice thing to do for the real Sheris's mother, and it established her identity beyond a doubt, according to Coruscanti law. It hurt his feelings, but Kore knew it didn't mean she didn't want to be his mother. It was practical, like him sitting here not telling Admiral Onasi everything at once, in case the man wasn't in on the secret.

"No." Carth Onasi bit his lip. "No. I couldn't… but I heard…" He waved his hand. "That's not who I mean. I mean my wife."

"She's coming here next. Bet you anything," Kore promised.

The admiral nodded. "Of course she'll come." a muscle in his check got twitchy. "She'll go wherever you are. If you see any sents with glowing eyes-"

I already did. But that was private. Kore tried to figure the man out, and why he didn't seem to know his wife was alive. "So, you don't want to see Mother but you came here anyways?"

"I-" the man's forehead wrinkled. "Mission told us you were here. I was worried about you. And… do you think I could speak to Lena? Maybe you could give me an introduction?"

"Okay," Kore told him. "But didn't you already meet Lena when you guys were looking for the Star Forge? I've seen the vids."

"Of course, but…." Carth Onasi looked extremely flustered for an admiral-at least until he smiled. "Might need a re-introduction."

"So you came here for Lena? Not Mother?" Maybe they'd had a fight. Kore liked Carth Onasi fine, but his son had been mean. And if Mother hadn't told them she was alive there must be a reason.

"I-I came here to see you and to see if Lena has something your mothers were trying to find." Admiral Onasi's eyes slipped away, looked over where his son was talking to the Tee-Three droid.

"Lena has lots of stuff." Kore shrugged like he didn't care, but in that moment he decided to watch Admiral Onasi very closely.

XXX

Dear Hoth,

I would have answered your question in person if you hadn't stormed out in the middle of lunch. By now, I expect you've asked others-but in case you haven't-yes. It's true. Not very many sents know, and while I can't stop you from going to the vids, House Racharn can do quite a bit to make your story-not to mention your character-look less than credible, if you get my drift.

Besides, do you want to break our mother's heart? Or your father's? They just want you to comm home. They're still the same people they always were, Hoth. Family.

-Kore DR Racharn, Second of House Racharn, undated letter.

[This correspondence, addressed to a 'Hoth Lamar,' suggests that 'Kore DR Racharn' and 'Hoth Lamar' were half-siblings. See the previous record.]

-compiled by Archivist Lanna T'so, University of Coruscant.

XXX

On the Coruscanti Rising, Republic Flagship,Hoth System

Xxx

Meetra regarded the woman before her carefully. In the Force Revan felt like ashes-her power weak and flickering. Nothing like Sheris-or the Revan Starfire that Meetra remembered-at all.

"Do admirals always follow your commands?" the woman asked wryly. There was humor glinting in those green eyes. Humor, but wariness, too.

"I do not issue commands very often," Meetra replied, helping herself to a cup of Cein's excellent tea. "The New Order's role is not to run armadas or govern planets. As you shall learn when you join us."

"What if I don't want to join you?" The voice was light, but the expression was not. Arrogance was inbred, Meetra surmised over the rim of her cup. Bred unto the bone itself. The woman looked down her long nose at Meetra as if she had a better offer. "Met another Jedi who gave the fleet orders like you just did. She wanted me to join her, too. I killed her instead."

"Darth Traya was my mother, did you know that? I myself did not until recently." Meetra permitted herself a smile, even if the tone of the woman's confession held the weight of a lie. Someone killed Mother. I don't think it was you. "Thank you for killing her."

The Revan she'd known once would have given nothing. This one looked startled. "You're… uh, welcome, I guess." She lifted an eyebrow, making her look more like a pale, flightless bird than ever. "What do you want?"

"Galactic harmony. A Jedi Order filled with Jedi who help, not harm." Meetra had learned the kindly smile from Oerin and then improved upon it. "Sheris was my friend and so was Bastila. Perhaps we shall be friends, too."

The woman's other eyebrow followed the first. "Perhaps..."

"Revan destroyed Sheris, and Malak ruined Tilly. It had nothing at all to do with you." Meetra continued.

The woman's red eyebrows drew together as if that had been confusing. "Um… okay. Dar said you were working with Oerin Lin. Where the hell is he?"

"Onderon, I believe. And Dar is…?"

"You know where she is, don't you?"

"I meant who. Oh, you mean your duplicate. Of course I know where she is! She went to the tomb in your place." Meetra had felt Revan's scream like a tear in the Force. Compared to that, Sheris's death had been an exhale, the merest whisper. "Mother's chimeric monster: the real Revan's memories in poor Sheris's body. How long do you think she'll last in the Emperor's grave?"

"I'm not really sure-" The woman began babbling, then, like they all did when Meetra inquired, spilling their lives out like guts. Disappointing to know this woman was no different than any of the rest-although there was something-something tense there, too, like fine wire-a snare to trap Meetra, durasteel in those blazing green eyes.

The woman would not, Meetra realized, always be weak in the Force. Her strength would recover even as Meetra's had. And when it did…

There would be a reckoning for this day. Perhaps for many things, by then.

"You will be allies," Thalia May had said. "For a time. Allies with crossed sabers. But she will never trust you, and you must never trust her-for she will never put the fate of the galaxy before the ones she loves-"

"Why is Oerin Lin on Dxun?" the woman demanded, suddenly. Revan, Meetra had to acknowledge. She had hoped for a reunion with her old friend-or her worst enemy-instead, she had to contend with this stranger, the one Oerin had made her promise her not to kill.

This stranger, who still had all of Revan's damnable charisma and at least some of her wit.

"Our seer says the galaxy needs her in it," Oerin had said. Thalia May had said the same to Meetra… but even if that were not true, Meetra would have had a pang of conscience before ending this one.

"Oerin is on Dxun for love," Meetra told Revan. "I assume. I can't think of another reason why he remains there when so much of the galaxy bleeds."

"Love?" Revan scoffed, for a moment quite sounding like the woman she had forgotten. "Are you joking?"

"Attachments make us stronger," Meetra told her, permitting herself a grim smile. "I have found that to be the case-haven't you?"

"You need to stay the frack away from my attachments," the woman muttered.

"I offer Jedi training to willing subjects, only," Meetra smiled. "We're re-establishing the Temple on Coruscant. I hope you'll join us there. You… and perhaps your son?"

Those green eyes narrowed and that too-wide mouth twisted in a near-animalistic snarl. "No," Revan said flatly.

The Force seemed to still. Their heartbeats stretched to an eternity. Again, Meetra realized there would be a reckoning between them, someday.

Someday. But not today.

"As you wish," Meetra said lightly. "We Jedi always have a choice."

Xxx

Ma trained me to shoot chasing down those damned insurance investigator droids. I was eight before my family gave up and sold the farm on Deralia, moved to the Dafelli Rim. Bessy and Beyo were two. That was right after Grandad died-after outlasting every bet placed on his end-date. We all knew it was coming-should have come years before-but Ma still cried like her heart would break.

So did she. You know who I mean. Or if you don't, it's none of your damned business.

"A Smuggler's Tale: Good Works Along the Reef," Captain Abasen Organa-Wen. 3918 BBY

-compiled by Archivist Lanna T'so, University of Coruscant

Xxx

Two weeks later…

(Deralian Standard Measure)

Xxx

"Well." Polla whispered into her husband's sleeping ear. "I'm back."

It had taken two weeks, just like she'd expected.

"Mmmf," Seiran said.

"Dahdadaa," Abasen added, gripping the sleeve of her tunic like he'd never let go.

"Mama," she told him, rolling him on top of her. He'd gotten heavier.

"Mahm," Abasen said. "Muh."

Polla had landed under cover of darkness, stuck the Bounty on that old island in the middle of the swamp, and waded nearly a kilometer to get back to the Farm, to wake up Ma and Da and her son, only to discover after a lot of whispered hugs and chastising that poor Sei was sleeping in the best barn now, being as it had the underground tunnel that led to the field where his speeder was parked.

The Transgalactic Underwriters were no joke.

"If she's still alive, Pollie, can't she do something?" Ma had a lot of faith. Maybe Polla should be flattered by that and not jealous. "Isn't she rich?"

"It's not the money, Ma." Easier, probably, to have ripped off the Exchange.

"Mmmf," Seiran said again and rolled over. His dark eyes focused on her and he smiled for a second before he remembered to be mad.

"Was that you?" he asked. "On Hoth in the armor?"

"Daddadda." Aba said.

"Yeah." Polla slid in, putting their kid between them. "Sorry I wasn't back sooner, but she needed me."

"That Bitch doesn't need anyone." Sei looked pissed, but he'd soften. But that was when Polla realized that maybe Revan wasn't nuts. If Sei couldn't tell in the Force or whatever which Revan it was, then maybe Revan might pull this Sheris thing off. At least if she got better at the speeches.

"It's not the Bitch," she told him. "It's her. Bitch went into the tomb."

That made her husband sit up. "You mean the one with your memories is pretending to be her-"

"Yeah." Polla reached for his arm, tugging Seiran back down.

Xxx

"Thank you, sentients of Corellia Prime for coming to hear me today. I… uh, I wasn't expecting so many of you! I-"

(Voice is drowned out by cheers.)

"The admirals have asked me to speak to you about Revan Starfire and her sacrifice, but Revan wasn't the only sentient who sacrificed everything…."

-General Sheris Loran, Speech on Corellia Prime, 3951 BBY

-compiled by Archivist Lanna T'so, University of Coruscant

Xxx

Two weeks after that….

(Coruscanti Standard Units)

Xxx

"Another one. Hah!" The Kaleesh at the bar was drunk. Mekel didn't think he'd ever seen a drunk Kaleesh before. "Woman gives so many speeches they should… should pay her or somef...somefing."

"Uh, yeah." Mekel grinned, because the asshole was heavily armed. "You gonna answer my question or not, pal?"

The Kaleesh blinked down at the holopix Mekel had put in front of him again. "Haven't seen." He shook his tusks. "Nope. Not her."

Maybe Phylus was wrong about her being alive. Maybe Inse was lying about having 'sensed' her in this sector.

Maybe Mydia Blais was dead.

Maybe Mekel didn't care. Tracking down the rogue padawan who was terrifying sents in the Coruscanti Underground had sounded hilarious-before Telos bowed out, and Master Surik put Mekel on charge on his own.

But the hell with Telos. Mekel wasn't going to think about him. In the weeks they'd been back on good old Coru, Dustil had become so distant that Mekel felt fracking invisible. His ex was throwing himself so hard into being a Jedi that Telos didn't even get hard anymore-or if he did he wasn't sharing it.

"Many other sentients sacrificed their lives, too. I would be here all day if I were to recount their names, each one, for you all…."

Mekel's cousin Revan was on every holo channel. Just another sent who'd let him down. He'd liked the other one, but she'd taken one for the team. This one had popped up on Hoth after she ditched them on Telos, hugged Sheris Loran's mom, and then started doing commercials for the Republic Fracking Fleet. She wasn't the only one. Thalia May and Neesa Ahto, (who was really Mydia's sister), Lydie Korr and her too-smug husband-they got up on their plasticore crates, too.

Pretty speeches for the rubes. All about rebuilding the Order and sacrifice. Blah, blah, blah.

Master Surik had said they all had to push the positive Jedi image with the nulls, but 'General Sheris' was so far up Admiral Cein's chiv-hole that she probably knew what Chiss mouthwash tasted like-and the way Telos was going he wasn't far behind. Surik was chomping that sleemo Atton guy's ass trying to get Dustil Onasi, son of the war hero, on the airwaves, and knowing Telos, he'd probably volunteer to pump out for free.

But not Mekel. He was out here beneath the skids actually trying to help sents. Like Cousin Revan would do, if she were still alive.

"Anyone else know anything? I'm here on official Jedi business!" Mekel raised his voice, feeling stupid in the gray robes he'd been assigned. Master Surik had warned him to be discreet with the search but this was the sixth bar he'd been in. He switched the holoprojector on, so Mydia's beaming face was broadcast a meter high, glowing in the darkened room. "Has anyone seen this woman?"

Mydia Blais had left her kids at Mekel's mother's brothel and vanished before Dustil and Mekel even got to Coruscant. Why?

Telos didn't seem to care now that he had the kids.

No one seemed to care about Mydia at all.

Xxx

"Some Force-users will not follow our path," Master Surik lectured. Morning meditation was in the Room with a Thousand Fountains-now, all dry as Master Surik's probable twat. "They must be allowed to find their own way to the Light. We who have tasted darkness know it can take some time..." Her eyes went to the dark-haired sleemo who made Mekel's skin crawl. Padawan Atton Rand-come-lately, the latest of Surik's personal recruits.

"Me?" The guy blinked back at Master Surik.

"You know what to say, Atton," Surik urged him with a smile.

The man shifted on his feet. "Uh… if our fallen brothers and sisters cause too much damage… then we… you know." The man cleared his throat like he was laughing. His hand went to the lightsaber on his belt and he tugged on it like it made him get off.

"Then they must be stopped," the Echani chimed in. Mekel had thought Padawan Brianna was hot until she kicked his ass in the training room.

Master Surik smiled. "Just so, Brianna. Are there any questions?"

Mekel had had a shit-ton. But not for these asshats. He glanced at the space on the mats where Telos usually sat, but Dustil was gone again-probably back at his dads's with those fracking kids-

Xxx

"That woman? I've seen her." The bartender was efficient and stacked. Muscular biceps and painted Human eyes. "Maybe it was her. She's got one of those-like you?" She pointed at Mekel's saber.

"Probably." The reports said there'd been some injured with wounds consistent with a lightsaber. A few. More just had their organs pushed out. A few more were just dead.

"Saw something with a laser sword like yours." The bartender scowled. "Level thirty-nine. Bleem Quarter. Didn't stick around to get a face when I saw it light up. Someone's been cutting up CoruSec down there-sents are too afraid to report-but..."

"Bleem Quarter. Thanks!" Mekel shoved a few chits in her direction and split. Maybe good old 'Neesa' hadn't been lying after all. Mekel didn't like the way Inse Blais looked at Telos-like he was her afternoon snack. Surik looked at Dustil like that, too, but at least her motive was professional. Surik was already fracking half her inner circle (according to rumor). She didn't have room for Telos on her rotation.

Not that it mattered.

Bleem Quarter was a pest-hole, just like Silo Sector, and Level Thirty-Seven South and everywhere else Mekel had looked. When he finally found Mydia Blais she was standing off against ten CoruSec officers in riot gear. A few more lay dead at her feet.

Old habits die hard. The odds weren't fair already. Mekel made them worse.

"I hate it here," Mydia whimpered when they were done. "Inse has everything on this planet already! I just want to go home."

"What about your kids?" She'd left them at Mekel's moms's-that had to mean something.

"Inse said she'd take care of them." Mydia wiped her nose, looking more like a drowned womp-rat than a hot babe. "Master Surik put her in charge of the nursery. I had to hide them. I couldn't leave them with Inse! She'd have Myleah and Ganesh killed when she had her own heirs, or raise them to hate me, or make them into Jedi like the rest of those… droids!"

"So you picked my moms's place to dump them?" Mekel had a horrible thought. "Did my moms pay you?"

Mydia looked surprised. Her voice softened. "Oh! Did you find them?"

Mekel was already going through the third corpsed CoruSec's pocket. "Did my moms pay you?" In that moment, he would have fried them both-his moms and her.

"I was under the impression that leaving Myleah and Ganesh at Vrook Lamar's brothel would put them under Revan's protection." Mydia managed to wipe her eyes with the sleeve of her grubby Padawan robe. "The denizens of the slum nearby told me a Jedi named Lamar had been in charge of the place until recently."

Those denizens were probably blasted on death sticks. Mekel choked back a bitter laugh. "Revan doesn't even know where my moms's place is."

Mydia made a face as Mekel moved on to the next corpse. "And how was I supposed to know that? You have no idea what it was like, returning here after the Machine Wars with all of those gray robes. Phylus refused to change their diapers, and Inse was here already… she was the one who mentioned the brothel-that was when I knew it would be the last place she'd look." Mydia wiped her eyes again. "And Dustil had told us both tales of the place, although of course he said he was Lord Malak-at the time-I hate liars, Mekel Jin. Don't ever lie to me. I'll pop your toes off one-by-one if you do. Then your testicles."

For some reason he would never be able to articulate, Mydia Blais looking like a drowned womp rat and threatening him made Mekel like her more. "I won't."

"You have the Force again." Mydia smiled at him, like the sun lifting out of a cloud. "And you were rather fearsome just now, coming to my aid."

"Yeah." Stronger every day.

In the end it was just that simple. Old habits die hard and Mekel had never wanted to die on Coruscant anyway.

He reached for Mydia's hand-

Xxx

ROGUE PADAWANS DEPART CORUSCANT?

The Rogue Padawans were spotted near the Chishai Spaceport this afternoon! Port Authority forensics believe they stowed away one of the freighters on the Roda Docking Hub.. Can it be possible that this dastardly duo, who have plagued Coruscanti corridors for more than a week, are finally gone?

Knight Brianna from the Jedi Temple has issued the following statement:

"There may be some who refuse to walk the path of my Master. They have no place among us, and we shall give no refuge to lawbreakers…."

Coruscant Sun, Weekly Dispatch 3951 BBY

-compiled by Archivist Lanna T'so, University of Coruscant.

Xxx

XXX

A week later…

(Coruscanti Standard Units)

Xxx

"You okay, son?"

"What? Yeah." Dustil got up awkwardly, shifting the sleeping Ganesh to his other shoulder, and clipping off the holo news with a quick blast of Force. "Just dozing off. This kid's drooling. I think he's getting teeth."

His dad shuffled into the living room of their shared conapt and gave him a pained smile. "Not what I meant."

At this point, they were both experts at not saying what they meant-because what they meant was just more of the same old grief. Dustil was sick of being sad. "You mean about Mekel? At least now I know the fracking New Jedi Order aren't gonna kill him."

His father gave a sharp laugh. "Mydia Blais might. Damnit! I-I mean-"

"It's okay, Dad." It sort of was. Dustil cradled Ganesh on his knee and Myleah dozed in the basket at his feet. "Mekk's always made his own choices." A good Jedi would probably feel more sorrow for the CoruSec guards the Rogue Padawans had cut down on their spree instead of feeling relieved his ex hadn't managed to get himself killed. But from what Dustil had seen of good Jedi from his lessons at the Temple, he wasn't sure he was ever gonna be one. "You doing okay?"

"Of course." His father had two uniforms these days-admirals' dress or his bathrobe. The latter still had a stain on it from yesterday's breakfast. "You know, I gotta ship out again next week but I can ask for another leave-"

"Don't do it on my account. Master Surik keeps us pretty busy." Dustil paused, trying to figure out how to broach the giant ronto in the living room they didn't talk about. "Denis and Rew are still out handling the goodwill tour with General Sheris, right?"

"Yeah, I'm not… not going near that one." His father cleared his throat and sat down next to Dustil on the couch, pivoting away from the ronto like he was doing wheelies. "You seem to be doing very well with the Jedi."

Of course Dustil seemed to be. They weren't any different than the Sith. You showed up and did some tricks, everyone sat in a circle, then there was combat practice.

"Master Surik's talking about establishing enclaves on Rim Planets." Dustil didn't think any of them knew enough to run an enclave-not even Master Surik-but nearly all of the old masters were dead. "They closed down the enclave on Telos for now, but maybe someday-"

"You'd go back?" His father looked wistful.

"Maybe. Or Dantooine. I'd like these two to grow up with grass under their feet."

"Dantooine…" Dad shook his head, a faint smile on his face. "I've been there. Trust me, you'd be bored to tears."

"Onderon?" Dustil shrugged. "Always wanted to ride a drexl. Mekk and I used to joke about running off there." The words came out so natural they didn't even hurt.

His father nodded, skipping past it. "Canderous is there-well, on Dxun. Guess if you end up with Onderon I'd have someone to check in on my grandkids."

"You guys keep in touch?" He hadn't known. For some reason, Dustil thought about the daughter, the one he'd last seen through Mekel's eyes. Blonde and armored. Mekk had said she'd saved their lives. "Tell Millifar I said hi."

"I speak with Gwenarius, mostly. She calls asking about those two." Carth chuckled and leaned over to touch Myleah's sleeping head, tracing the whorls of hair with his fingers. "Last time she had some opinions about their vaccination schedules. Canderous doesn't say much. Asked if I'd seen the broadcasts."

No need to ask which broadcasts. Dustil had seen part of one and that was more than enough. "General Sheris can give speeches til the nerf crosses the river, Dad. We know Revan did the real work. The Sith backed down. And that Emperor's gone."

"Let's hope he stays that way." Dad sighed. "You… you're right." His head ducked down like he was ashamed. "I did try… tried to watch one speech-the one she gave on the Taris orbital. Thought I owed it to See'raa and Tee-"

"The twins don't care, Dad." The twin Twi'leks didn't remind Dustil of Mission, which was a relief. Their whole trip to Nar was a blur between the babies and Mekk trying to mack on See'raa. But seeing Revan's kid had been okay-even if the kid wasn't crazy about Dustil (given their history, Dustil couldn't blame him), and didn't want to leave with them.

In the end, they'd left the kid there on Nar, waiting for his mom to show. Dad hadn't wanted to, but it wasn't like they could kidnap Malachor D'Reev out from under Lena Wee's droid army. (Dad hadn't even wanted to try.)

"The twins are lame," whistled Mission, from her place in the corner of the living room. She was plugged into the nets, and, knowing her, probably a million places at once. "And I still think Lena was lying about not having the box!"

That dumb box. "Maybe so, Blue." Blue. That had been what Mekel had called Mission. It no longer made Dustil sad to think about Mission being a droid or Mekel being gone. As long as he didn't think too hard. "But we don't need it, now, do we?"

"You never know!" The astromech made a cackling noise, like a bad imitation of a laugh. "I mean a Rakatan Mind Prison's a handy thing to have around!"

"I'll put one on our shopping list for next Second-day," Dad quipped, getting to his feet with a yawn. "Think they have em at the Hyper-Mart?"

Xxx

When I was very small and misbehaved, my grandfather's astromech droid would threaten to drop Gan and me back at the brothel in the Coruscanti Underground where we were found. Perhaps… that only happened that once. Gan and I were heedless as babes, but always listened to High Admiral Onasi-and to his wife-on the rare occasions they were charged with our care.

But Grandfather and his wife almost never came to Onderon-and it was on Onderon where Ganesh and I grew-along with our stepsister Faene. Given Grandfather's stature upon the galactic stage, I imagined all sorts of reasons for his aversion to our home planet: blood feud with the Beast-Riders, dark side possession by a vengeful ghost, some treaty with the Republic too boring to understand-maybe even a Mandalorian curse.

It never occurred to me to consider that the reason could be as plebeian as our stepmother's disdain; but now that I am older I suspect that was the case. It was an unspoken fact that Faene's mother, the Beast-Rider Queen, despised my grandfather's wife.

By the time I was to take my Knight's trials our visits were reduced to the annual holiday upon Lehon.

A shame. I really liked their Tee-Three droid and it was very fond of Father, too.

-Master Myleah Onasi, "Notes for an unpublished memoir." Transl. From the Mandalorian., 3867 BBY,

XXX

Two weeks after that

(By Onderon Royal Tally)

Xxx

Dxun was too hot for beskar, but her father insisted on wearing it everywhere, even when his coolant reserves ran dry. Millifar refused to do the same but First Mother demanded she wear a hat to shield her bare scalp from the sun. At least her remaining parents understood enough to leave their First Daughter to her own shuttle, even when her explorations took her to the surface of the fabled world of Onderon.

Iziz City was even hotter than Dxun but the hat was welcome here. It concealed Millifar's features from wandering eyes-not to mention security cams.

Millifar preferred Onderon to Dxun. The press of crowds and the stench of the market reminded her of Coruscant, a place she remembered hating-even as now she recognized some affinity in her own heart for the stinks and missteps of a crowded world full of barbarians. In truth, Onderon was nothing like Coruscant, except for the crowds, but they were enough.

As she pushed through the mob of sentients (mostly Human), Millifar tried to ignore the HoloNet kiosks blasting the latest news from the Core. The locals seemed to have an unhealthy obsession with Revan the Redeemed and "her glorious sacrifice." Their fanaticism reminded Millifar too much of some of the young bloods back at camp, which was one of the reasons she found remaining at camp unendurable, these days.

One di'kut had even compared Revan's sacrifice to the crew of the Aleema. Millifar thought Jarak of Weis would recover the sight in his eye when the swelling went down. She had used her hand made of flesh, not the one made from armor.

Jarak should feel fortunate.

"Today, General Sheris made an announcement regarding Trade restrictions in the Outer Reaches…"

"Troch," Millifar muttered, ducking behind one of the kiosks to cut its wire. A petty act of vandalism, but one that made her adrenaline spike as she eyed the palace guards that loitered nearby. She was away in another heartbeat, just another Human in the crowd. The two monarchs who ruled this city were locked in a battle between themselves-for all that they had married. From what Milli had seen, neither Vaklu nor Talia were up to the task of controlling these lawless, pampered people.

"-a month ago, no one was sure when the woman who saw Revan's last hours would make an appearance, or if she was alive at all-"

Another kiosk piped up, just where the range of the first ended.

A beastly cry above caught her attention as she watched a drexl soar above them. It was not beautiful-like a besalisk war droid it looked like it had no business in the air at all-and yet it flew. The sight caused a strange feeling in her guts, almost like shereshek. Raised on ships, Millifar had never seen so many beasts as she had on Dxun and Onderon. But drexl were the apex predators that ruled the rest… although Leskal would claim the zakkeg more fearsome, and Gwenarius has warned Millifar to beware the boma-

Millifar bit her lip. Best not think of the boma again. There was no rational explanation for what had happened that night-merely, it was one reason she was here in Onderon, where it could not happen again.

"Love to watch em, huh?" A cracked voice drew Millifar's attention back to the ground. "Come festival time you can ride 'em, if you're quick-"

"I would like that," Millifar told the beggar. She fished in her pocket for a few chips, even though the woman's eyes were drug-hazed and dim. The beggar held a babe at her breast-not quite old enough to name, if Millifar were to judge. Both mother and child were the same golden-brown color as the patched city wall behind them. She would have overlooked the pair entirely if the woman had not spoken.

"Have to be quick," the woman chuckled. "I snagged a real prince, last festival, but he was gone by mornin.' Left me this one..." she brandished the babe for Millifar's inspection. "Poor Deena-baby without a roof over her head…." She shuffled the babe to nudge the cup at her feet.

"I want to ride a drexl," Millifar said. "Not a man. When is this festival?"

"Few months off…" the woman coughed. "Saw what you did to the Newsie right now. Some might call the guard. Shame to see a pretty girl like you get arrested."

Millifar gave her another coin. It was strange, but the beast above them was circling, coming lower with each pass. Now, she could see the gleam of its scales. The harsh cries grew louder. "What do they eat?" she asked, shifting her metal hand to the blaster concealed in her belt. According to Gwenarius's tales to Dxun and Oerina, boma were fond of small children who refused their repasts. That was a lie, of course, and drexl were not boma, but something made her worried for this child-like a feeling, crawling on the edge of her skin.

Although it was surely a coincidence, the babe started wailing.

"Gonna land." The woman seemed concerned even as the crowds in the market dispersed, scattering like cowards to give the beast room. "Queen Talia lets 'em into the city, now. Haha! Maybe you caught a prince's eye!" She slapped her knees, laughing over the drexl roars and the cries of her own child. "Best drink the tea now if you're gonna ride em!"

"Not that it's your concern, but I have a child already," Millifar told the women. "My daughter is frozen, like a civilized person's, until I am ready to carry her to term. I intend to wait three years-at least. Possibly five." She watched the drexl land right in front of them, its rider slipping off the beast's saddle as smoothly as a warrior debarking for a ground assault.

"Ek?" the beastrider asked, staring directly at them. He did not appeal, for all that he was lean like Jin, with dark eyes and a stubbled face. His body appeared soft under the strips of leather and feathers he wore for clothing. He had dismounted with an arrogant carelessness that also reminded her of Jin… but Millifar was far more interested in the creature he rode. The drexl was larger than a Mandalorian fighter, with a wedge-shaped insectine head that reminded her of a cockpit controller. Even the thing's eyes were lit, staring in their direction like searchlights in the dark. Its wings were enormous, now half-folded on its back.

"Wha-?" The beggar woman sputtered and the drexl's rider advanced, saying something in the local cant.

Whatever it was caused the beggar to shriek, scrambling to her feet and backing away, still clutching the screaming babe to her chest. She backed off another meter and then turned and fled.

The drexl made a whistling noise, almost like a question. It wanted to follow.

"No!" Millifar warned it.

The wedge-shaped head turned, its palp-fangs glistening. The beast's eyes were amazing, whirling at their centers. For a moment, she felt very strange. The moment was broken when the rider spoke again in his barbarous language, gesturing at Millifar. He had two knives strapped to one leg, but no guns at all.

Millifar had not thought to bring a blade. She drew her blaster. "No!" she warned him, too. First in Basic and then Mando'a when he did not respond.

"Ek?" The rider sounded puzzled. "Lek ursh'ta? Kira?"

The beast shuffled closer. The boma had done the same thing-shuffle closer-an entire herd of them- and then the one in the middle-the matriarch-had knelt, as if it wished Millifar to shoot it first.

Or climb atop and run with the herd-

Millifar had wanted very badly to run with those boma. Standing on a jungle moon, the idea had made perfect sense.

None of this made any sense.

"Lek ursh'ta?" The man repeated.

"Go!" Millifar told the drexl in Basic. "You too," she added for the rider.

Instead of listening, the beast raised and lowered its head and pawed the dirt with its foreclaws.

"You… Jedi?" The rider pronounced the word closer to Mandalorian 'jett' than troch 'jed.'

"Of course not." His Mandalorian was terrible.

"But…she-you.. not from… here. Cloud likes you. Hear when we were…" he gestured up on the air. "Up. Your father was beast-rider?"

"My father was Mand'alor. One of my mothers as well."

"You… strange." The rider frowned, shaking his head. "May I have the name of you?"

"It would not suit you." The boma matriarch had looked at Millifar the same way as the drexl looked now. Curious-as if the beast wanted her for something more than lunch. "Good-bye." Millifar turned her back because it was no threat. She'd just cleared the square when she heard the wings flap, felt them fly overhead low enough that the rush of wings knocked her hat off her head.

Millifar bent down to pick it up. She looked up again as the beast and rider sped away.

The speakers of the next kiosk crackled. "Will General Sheris rejoin the Jedi on Coruscant? Master Meetra Surik has issued the following statement: 'Sheris is a dear friend and we have enjoyed catching up, but as long as the Fleet requires her expertise-'"

"Trochs!" Millifar had holstered her blaster, walking to the next 'newsie' kiosk and discreetly shocking its power core into deactivation with a small ion charge.

"Sabotage?" The soft laugh caught her by surprise, even as her blood froze. "Sabotage seems beneath a daughter of Ordo, Milli." The voice was smooth, male, and perfect.

Turning would show Millifar the lie. "The rest of your clan had the dignity to stay dead," she snapped without budging. "Are you following me, Oerin of Lin? Why?"

"I have a better question, Millifar of Ordo. Why did that drexl react to you?"

"Why don't you ask it?" Millifar quickened her pace-realizing too late that the path she had chosen dead-ended into a curved row of storefronts, mostly abandoned. "Go away," she ordered Oerin, turning to face him and wishing with all of her heart for him to obey her command.

That had worked on the boma.

It did not work on the dead. The walking corpse stood before her, entirely nonplussed. Lin had lost one eye completely, and Millifar felt a savage relief for that-some small recompense for her arm, if not for Kex and Jin's father and the rest.

"What do you see?" Lin asked. His voice was no longer sweet. It was dark and clotted and terrible, but she understood him perfectly all the same.

"A dead man." Shooting him would do no good, but Millifar drew the weapon. "If I blast you to pieces will you finally die?"

"I doubt it." His chest made a chuffing noise that might have been laughter. "All those around us see me as I was… but not you." The contorted expression on his face might have been a smile. "Not you… ever again."

"I don't want to see you again!" Millifar should shoot him, but she knew it would do no good. And the guards… her eyes noted the Palace Guards patrolling past-the result of her sabotage. "I have a thermo detonator!" She did not, but she could get one.

"I would prefer that you remain in blissful ignorance myself." His smile twisted. "But my mother's touch changed you."

The boma, Millifar thought, but she feigned ignorance. "What?"

"My mother laid her mark upon your mind. She was always fond of Mandalorians… do you know how many times I whispered for you not to see me, just now? But is there more to it?" Oerin's one good eye wasn't very good, pitted and drawn and filmed with white. "That drexl seemed interested-more than its rider. And you seem…" his head tilted and his hand beckoned Millifar to come closer, although of course, she did not. "You seem… present in the Force in a way that is new."

Millifar had a thousand questions, but she would ask none of this dar'manda. "I don't have the Force!"

"I know." Oerin paused. "Yet there is something. You sensed my approach."

"So? If I can sense you, I can track you," she vowed. "Next time we meet I will bring weapons that can tear you apart-"

Lin tipped his hand at her in a mock salute. "I quite look forward to seeing you try." And then he turned away, moving quickly-too quickly-Millifar thought, for how the world seemed to freeze around him.

His words had made no sense. But Millifar understood.

A rustle at her feet caught her attention. A ring-tailed scavenger about the size of her flesh hand was sitting on its paws staring at her with flat, unblinking eyes.

"Go away!" she told it instead of just shooting. The animal made a startled chirp, then vanished under a stack of disposable packing material.

Not the Force, Millifar thought. But something. It was a relief to know she was not going mad as old mother Catrinex had, toward the end.

Perhaps this beast-sense could even be useful.

Xxx

Starfire2! The Musical had a limited run in Core Space. The shadow broker who financed its ruin was rumored to work for an order of ancient assassins who thought they had been unfairly represented in the production-always being portrayed as villains.

It is, however, still performed today by the Wookiees of Kashyyyk, and even, from time to time, on an insignificant Outer Rim world called Deralia. Some think the choice of a female Revan is symbolic-an allegory of rebirth performed by primitive peoples-a promise of hope in the darkness where the real Talonis Revan only brought destruction.

Do you think this is the correct interpretation, padawans?

"On the Starfire Phenomena," Paper from the Tython Lecture Series by Jedi Meris Shan, 3742 BBY.

-compiled by Archivist Lanna T'so, University of Coruscant.

XXX

One week later…

(Nar Shaddaa Rules)

Xxx

"Mother!" Korrie tackled Revan with enough enthusiasm to almost knock her down. He was so heavy and so tall that Revan could look him in the eye-within centimeters of her height. A part of her marveled while another mourned that she'd missed even more of his childhood.

And then in her arms Korrie froze. "What did y-" he pulled at her metal arm, looking up at her, wide-eyed. Revan saw him work it out. "Oh," he said softly. "I thought maybe you had it painted gold."

"No. It's real." Relief made her voice shaky. For a moment, Revan had thought that he'd expected Dar, and not her.

"She gave you her arm?" Korrie lowered his voice to a whisper before she asked for caution, as aware as any diplomat of the escort behind her: two admirals, their honor guard, and hers. They all crowded the platform, some perilously close to the edge.

"Yes. But she's not really dead." Revan pulled him closer, whispering in his ear. "Not exactly."

"I know." He bit his lip, peering past her at the others. "She's with Father."

It was nice to think so, but mostly Revan was just relieved that Malak hadn't appeared to her again.

"In the Force." She pulled him into a tighter hug. Her artificial arm still felt heavy and numb, but she wrapped it around his surprisingly solid back. "You're so big! What are they feeding you?"

"Now I get all sorts of stuff. But for a while when it was just Atton and me, it was pretty slim pickings-they say that on Deralia. Slim pickings." He repeated the phrase, funny in his clipped accent. "Do they think it's weird that General Sheris is still hugging me?"

"No, because they think General Sheris is really her."

"Oh," Korrie whispered back. "That's what I thought." His voice brightened. "You're doing a good job!"

"Thanks." Sometimes, when Revan was reviewing the datapoints the admirals kept feeding her, the tasks felt too familiar: as if the logistics of moving munitions across star systems, reviewing Ascendency intelligence reports, and assembling a coherent strategy had been a part of her all along. A part of Revan inside of her, just waiting to emerge.

Now, her son smiled hopefully. "You said on the vids that you killed yourself to stop the Emperor. But if she's not really dead is she coming ba-"

No. "Malachor." Revan used his full name to show she was serious, pulling back a little, all too aware they still had that blasted audience. "Right now, you need to remember. In public I'm not your mother. I'm Sheris. General Sheris."

He looked up at her, puzzled. "I know, but-"

She leaned forward to whisper in his ear. "Safer this way. For everyone." Just as Dar had predicted, the Republic was thrilled to lionize a dead Revan Starfire as their hero. The same part of Revan's mind that analyzed Chiss supply chains knew they'd be less thrilled with a live, possibly immortal Revan, who'd deceived them countless times already.

Her son's forehead furrowed as he glanced toward her audience and then back again. His voice raised theatrically and Revan felt an irrational stab of pride. "I know that we pretend you're Sheris, Mother. But you're still my mother."

"In private, yes. As much as I can be." She raised her voice, too. "I will be here for you as much as I can be, Malachor, but publically you must address me as Sheris from now on."

Her son looked toward the others and then back at her again. "Okay," he said quietly. "Okay," he whispered again as if the second time was just between them.

Revan let herself pull him back into her arms. In the last few weeks of being trotted out like a prize hessi for various delegations, she was sure she'd got enough wrong for Denis to suspect, but so far the man had kept quiet. And Rew? She was even worse. The woman kept badgering her about Carth like she was laying a trap.

Revan had seen a holo-broadcast of Carth assembling the crew for his new flagship. He was calling it The Telos Promise. No 'Sojourn' in the name. Somehow that omission hurt more than it should.

Revan turned back to their audience. "You said I could go alone from here, Denis."

The Chiss nodded. "We've arranged a media black-out in this sector-for the next hour."

"One hour," Rew Ekkumi added. "We need to prepare for your speech to the Senate on Coruscant." She held up a datapad. "Review the requisition briefs. After the trouble we had procuring ships six years ago, I'm surprised you'd forget about the bottlenecks in construction."

"Perhaps I grew spoiled, having an infinite fleet."

The Telosian's eyes narrowed.

"The twins are gonna be mad you brought this much attention to their operation." Korrie tugged her hand and then looked down at their clasped hands as if he'd just noticed he'd grown since the last time they stood side-by-side.

"Didn't have a choice." Sometimes Revan wished she'd taken Polla up on that offer to cut and run. "Just what kind of operation are the twins running, anyway?"

"Oh, you know." Kore shrugged. "Just stuff."

"Stuff," Revan echoed. She could only imagine.

The gangway to the Blue Ghast was already down. Korrie led her inside. "I knew you'd come for me," he whispered in her ear. "I didn't tell anybody who you really were."

"Good. I'm sorry it took so long for me to come." Longer than she'd thought. The Fleet's public relations team had swung into high gear preparing the galaxy for their triumphant return to Coruscant.

That was to be the next stop-after this.

"It's okay. You were busy." Korrie's gray eyes searched her face. "I wasn't sure if you wanted Admiral Onasi to wait or not."

Revan blinked. "Carth… he's here?" Impossible! She'd just seen the vid of him on his ship.

"Not anymore. Oh, hey Tee'raa! See? Mother did come!" Her son turned before Revan did as a door slid open across the corridor.

One of Mission's Twi'leks-had to be-nodded at Revan, lekku twisting. She was almost purple-white, with pale brown eyes that looked nothing like Mission's.

We've been expecting you, the Twi'lek signed. Revan.

Revan put on her coldest voice and willed her heart to ice. "Just call me General Sheris. And you are-?"

In response, the woman's t'chin twitched an epithet in gutter Tarisian.

"Her name is Tee'raa," Korrie said. "Lena's gonna meet us in the viewing chamber."

The lekku flicked again. Just her, Kore. I'll take Revan alone.

Not Polla Revan. Or even Sheris Revan.

Revan smiled as she would have for the real Mission, but the White just stared back.

"Kore…" Revan planted a kiss on his nose that he was probably too old for. "Wait here. I'll be right back."

He looked puzzled. "But-"

"I need to speak to Lena alone, okay?"

"That's what Admiral Onasi said, too." Her son frowned-and for a second looked like he had further objections.

"Oh?" Revan kept her voice light. "He wanted to see Lena, too?"

Her son glanced at the Twi'lek. His hand moved, tracing a lekku-sign, and the White shrugged and turned her back on them-giving them at least the illusion of privacy. Korrie whispered in Revan's ear. "I thought Carth Onasi came looking for you, but he didn't know-was I supposed to tell him?"

"No," Revan whispered back. "It's a secret, me being… me. The fewer sents who know the better." But a bubble of hope sparked in her chest. If Carth has the box I'd need to see him-

A romantic notion, the cold voice whispered inside. We live in the real world, now. Set Carth Onasi free.

"I don't think anyone here knows," her son said in her ear. "The twins don't, even. Are you gonna tell them?"

"No." Revan couldn't trust them.

Korrie-Kore's-gray eyes stared at her face like he was looking for something he couldn't find. "Okay, but I don't get why some people can't know-like your own husband-"

"The more people who know, the more risk there is." And Carth should know already. Hell, if Dennis and Rew suspect-why wouldn't he? If he's seen any of my speeches-

The possibility that Carth knew and didn't care had occurred to Revan more than once.

"Did you guys get divorced?" Her son's voice squeaked on the last word and the White turned back around looking alarmed.

"Not-we'll talk about it later," Revan promised.

"Did you? I like him."

Let's go, the White signaled. Now, Revan.

"Pack your things," Revan told her son. "We'll be leaving when I get back."

He's not going anywhere, sister! The Twi'lek flipped her off.

Arguing from a position where one already had the advantage was futile. Revan left Korrie and followed the pale Twi'lek to a narrow room inset with transparisteel windows that must have cost a small fortune.

"I know what you've come for." Lena Wee was dressed like an empress in an eridu gown encrusted with jewels, a diadem of crystalline roses floating atop her head. Her lekku were wrapped in gold ribbons, twisted together in anxiety.

"My son," Revan told her. "Tell your associates I'm taking him and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

The pale Twi'lek covered her mouth with her hand like she was laughing. Her lekku twitched. Banthashit. We know what you're really after.

"Your son's happy here with us." A new voice-another Twi'lek emerged from a door in the opposite wall. This one's skin was a little darker, almost pink. She had two vibroswords slung on her belt. "We're like family."

"I know." Revan swallowed. Somehow it was easier with the White. The Pink's expression reminded her too much of Mission-or the woman she could have been. "But he's my family, too."

The Pink's lekku curled. "He's safe here with us."

"He'll be safe with me, too."

"General Sheris adopting Revan's kid?" The Pink snorted. "That's a great headline! Look, we know why you really came."

And we don't have it, the pale one added. Lena, tell her!

"I'll tell you the same thing I told Carth," Lena Wee's lekku were wrapped around her neck. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Behind the three Twi'leks the wall suddenly slid open, retracting into the ceiling with a snap. At least three dozen silver red-eyed droids stood at attention, and every one of them had HK's triangular face as well as his favorite short-range rifle in their arms, cocked and ready.

"Statement: Target Acquired!" the central droid whirred.

Revan willed herself not to blink, or react in any way. "Whole lot of droids to protect something you don't have."

"We're serious." The Pink edged between Revan and Lena. "We don't care who you think you are, but there's no way we'll give anything to you!"

If you're smart, the White signed, you'll go back out right now and tell Malachor he's staying here with us.

"I'll do no such thing. My son is coming with me." Revan didn't have to fake the anger in her voice.

He's happy here. Carth was happy to leave him with us.

"That may well be, but I am his mother. And Korrie wants to go with me. And I need to see this mysterious box that you claim you don't have. Now."

It's Kore, the White signed. The boy goes by Kore, now.

Kore. Revan had known that. A foolish mistake.

"Polla Revan would want him to stay with us," the Pink added.

That's right, the White added, hand on her vibroblade's hilt. Did you kill her?

"This is banthashit." Revan hadn't meant to tell them. She'd thought she wouldn't have to-thought she'd be able to bluff her way through this instead of facing facts. The bitter laugh came as natural as breathing. "I am Polla Revan and my son's coming with me."

The White's lekku flicked at question at Lena.

"How do you expect me to know if she's lying?" Lena took another step closer to their droids. "You're the ones who knew her!"

"Prove it!" the Pink snapped at Revan.

"How do you expect me to do that? I promised Dar I'd come for her damn box. But I really came for Kore. My son knows who I am. He'll tell you-"

"Wait. You don't want the box?" The Pink's lekku flicked to the White, telling her to flank Revan. The three of them were conducting another conversation in lekku-sign, questioning what advantage Revan would be having by making this all up-

"I could give a frack about the box," Revan snapped. "Except that Dar-the other Revan-told me to find it. She went into the tomb to stop the Emperor."

"You're lying," the Pink insisted stubbornly. "Geez! You don't even sound like her!"

She does, I think, the White argued.

"Well, if it's her, it's her with brain damage! Why doesn't Carth know? Lena…?"

"It's okay," the green Twi'lek said. She raised a hand and the other two fell silent. "Stand down, HKs. See'raa, Tee'raa-I'll handle this. Go see to Malachor."

"But-"

See'raa? The White's lekku crooked toward her sister. Let Lena handle this.

"Got my eye on you, Polla Revan!" the Pink hissed. "If that's really who you are!"

The two of them departed, lekku flicking identical instructions for Revan to get bent as the door slid closed behind them.

"Didn't expect them to listen," Revan admitted to Lena when the twins and their droids had gone.

"They care about the boy." Lena paused. "And they trust me."

The rebuke was obvious. Revan shifted on her feet. "Thank you for taking care of my son, Lena. And the twins. I got a pretty garbled version of what happened to create them from Mission."

"From the astromech," Lena corrected. She twisted one of the ribbons on her t'chun.

"Fine." Revan wanted to laugh at this absurdity. "You told Carth you didn't have the box? That was smart."

"Yes. Admiral Onasi was reluctant to leave Kore but… your son can be very persuasive." Lena turned to face her in front of a closed door, breathing deep as if steeling herself. In that instant, Revan knew that the jeweled outfit, all of this pomp wasn't meant to impress. It was armor, the only kind the Twi'lek had to hold against her.

I'm rich, the message said. Too rich for anything to happen to me without someone noticing.

Revan made her voice soften, sound non-threatening. "Lena, I just need to see the box. Please. I made a promise."

The vow was irrelevant, but Revan had to see.

"I made one, too. To a little girl. I didn't keep it. But I'll do everything for my family now."

"So will I." Revan folded her arms.

Every muscle in Lena's body looked tense as sprung wire. "I didn't expect you today-Kore didn't tell me you were coming-"

"He didn't know. I didn't know. It's hard to get away. They… they don't trust me with much."

"I saw your escort on the security feeds. They trusted you enough to leave you here alone."

"For an hour."

"What kind of life can you offer Kore if you're always under armed guard?"

That thought was uncomfortably close to Revan's own conclusions. "Not a perfect one. But ours. They'll let me see him. I made a deal."

The Fleet's pet Jedi. At their beck and call in exchange for time with her son. Rest-days. Holidays. One Coruscanti month every year of absolute freedom-

It was nothing. And everything.

"I remember when we met on Tatooine." Lena's eyes were dilated with fear but she had a polite smile welded on her face. "Told Mission you were trouble."

"You were right, I-thank you for taking care of my son, Lena. I know it was a risk-"

"I want to show you my son." The woman's fingers tugged at a ribbon and its length came down. She wrapped the strand around her fingers. "Then you can take the stinking box. I can't stop you. I have more droids on the lower level of this ship, but I don't think they could stop you, either."

Oh, you'd be surprised. The Force was coming back, but Revan didn't think she was up for a droid army. "I didn't know you had a son. Is Griff-" her voice broke off at the Twi'lek's expression. "I'm sorry. Didn't mean-I just thought, you were involved before-it's… it's none of my business."

"Not Griff." The Twi'lek turned and opened the door. Inside, a surprisingly simple room. A bed and a cabinet, a crib, where a chubby green-skinned baby lay sleeping. His lekku were wrapped in bright blue mufflers, his face freckled with spots that would darken in time.

There was no sign of an obelisk.

"He's beautiful." He was. Maybe a year old-maybe a little less. Revan was no judge of ages in Twi'lek children.

Mission had been fourteen in Tarisian years. Fifteen Standard. The Tee-Three would be fifteen going on thirty thousand forever. In some ways, See'raa and Tee'raa already seemed more grown than Mission had, the last time Revan had seen her chassis on Oas. She'd seen holos of the droid on the vids, since. Always parked next to Carth.

Comforting to think they had each other. And Dustil and Mekel, of course. Comforting to think they all had each other-and maybe in time, maybe when her identity was more fully established, maybe then Revan could-

Isn't this enough? the cold voice chided. We have our son. Don't ask for a moon.

"His name is Prince." Lena walked to the crib. "I named him to honor his father, who always said he would be a prince. A prince of the galaxy that we were going to rule."

Revan waited for the laugh or the ironic sigh, but Lena just stood there. "It's a nice name," she offered finally to drown out the silence. "Looks like you're doing pretty well for yourself with whatever it is you do for business."

"Yes." Lena folded her hands. "Even since we lost access to the Kashyyyk mainframe. See'raa's very good at slicing. I expect Tee'raa would be too if she cared for it."

"She wants to be a swoop-racing champion, Kore said." Like Mission.

"She is a swoop-racing champion." Lena folded her arms and it was Revan who looked away first.

"You used to spend some time at the swoops yourself." That had been where they'd met. On Tatooine. "The Kashyyyk mainframe's gone dark. Don't expect it to come back." Zaalbar was keeping it monitored, just in case.

"Good, that thing gave me the creeps." Lena picked up a quilt hanging from the side of her son's crib and folded and then refolded it. "Prince's father's name was T'chrrrrnak'tahk'leànjsëw. Or Nico Senvi. I'm not really sure how it works."

"I remember Nico." She'd raced against him. "I'm not sure I understand. T'chrrrr… it sounds Rakatan."

Lena nodded. "He said he was a rebel prince. His people imprisoned him over twenty thousand Standard years ago. They put his mind in a Rakatan obelisk."

"Oh." Of course. Of course the Rakata Mind Prison would have had an immortal occupant-one Dar had never accounted for. "So you're saying that T'chrrrrnak'tahk'leànjsëw possessed Nico Senvi's body."

The Twi'lek giggled nervously. "I thought I'd have to explain. I know it sounds insane."

"Not to me." Revan forced a laugh, too, to make the woman feel more at ease. "Where is Nico now?" She'd have to kill him. An ancient Rakatan prince probably wasn't up to anything good.

"On Tatooine, I think. I left him there." Lena's eyes narrowed. Behind her, the babe rolled over in his sleep. "Leave Nico out of this. You can't use him again."

"I-I'm not sure what you mean." Of course, Lena would be sentimental about the father of her child. Well, the Rakatan prince could have some kind of accident that could never be traced back to Revan-

"T'chrrrrnak'tahk'leànjsëw was in Nico's body. He told me we were going to take over the galaxy. He was babbling crazy things, about how all of him would be in a thousand bodies and I would be in another thousand…. But he wasn't insane." Lena's hands held the crib like it was holding her up. "He made the twins for me. He did that for me. And then I tricked him."

A thousand bodies. Revan felt a chill. "How?"

"I put him back in that box. And so now Nico… the real Nico Senvi is free. He has his body back." Lena's eyes pleased with Revan. "Nico's an innocent. He has no idea what happened."

"You're sure?"

"I'd have to be, wouldn't I? Went in there myself. T'chrrrrnak'tahk'leànjsëw is trapped unless someone else goes in and gets him out."

"Oh." If she was going to use it at all, Revan had planned on using the obelisk on Lieutenant C'Tannis who was still locked in a Republic brig-hoping it would free the man, risking that it wouldn't. Every sent possessed by the Emperor might go in with him-billions of them, trapped together in that box for eternity. Dar had been willing to take the risk. Revan wasn't… sure. "What happens if… if T'chrrrrnak'tahk'leànjsëw possesses someone and we kill the body?"

Lena blinked. "I don't know. I didn't want to kill the father of my son."

"It wouldn't have to be him. It could be anyone…." Revan's voice trailed off and the excuses died. Kill a random innocent to clear the box, and then risk the lives of billions more.

The woman she had been once had believed in victory at any cost. But this price was too damn high.

"Is the obelisk safe? With you?"

"It's under my bed," Lena repeated. "In a durasteel coffin. My droids made a containment unit for me."

Revan knelt down and looked. Sure enough, a gray metal box. It could have been anything. She straightened to her feet. "I'm… going to be around a while. Looks like I might be around a long while. I can… I'll find a place to stash it. Some place where it'll never be found."

Lena Wee sighed. "I was afraid you wouldn't understand. And if he came back, he would want… me and Prince…."

"Yeah. He's not coming back." Revan cut her off at the chase. "I promise you that."

There were monsters and then there were worse monsters. The Sith Empire had retreated to its borders. Reports spoke of rebuilding and a new hope. Dar had hoped to make a difference and perhaps she had. Revan had made a promise, but not a blind one. Dar hadn't sacrificed herself to put a Rakatan despot in the place of Tenebrae.

"What about my son?" Lena asked.

"I'd never hurt your kid!"

The Twi'lek lowered her voice. "I mean, what about his… is he going to be like his father?"

In the Force, the baby just felt like a baby. No way to tell anything. If, in the future, he suddenly manifested the power of a Rakatan prince and wanted to take over the galaxy?

That would be future-Revan's problem.

"More like his ma, I bet." The Deralian accent didn't feel natural anymore, but Revan still lapsed into it to put sents at ease. "He just feels like a baby, Lena. Nothing evil, or bad. Love him. Have a good life. I'll… I'll find a place to stash your box."

"I have a planet of droids that can help… I'm just not sure I trust them."

A planet of droids that the Kashyyyk computer helped you get? Yeah, I wouldn't trust them either. In the same way that Revan would never quite trust the twins. "I've got to go. Don't trust the droids. I'll find something better. Uh, be careful, okay?" She backed away to the door. "I'll be in touch."

"Thank you," said Lena Wee.

Xxx

As I said, I don't remember being possessed. They say most don't. The most long-lasting side effect of my imprisonment on Deralia is that to this day, I can't abide the taste of pie. That woman, Molla Organa keeps writing to me for more recipes and I don't know what to tell her-the mere thought makes me sick!

Sydax of Chassna, "I Was a Pawn of the Sith Emperor," Outlier Publishing, 3938 BBY

-compiled by Archivist Lanna T'so, University of Coruscant

Xxx

Four months later…

(Deralian Standard Time)

Xxx

"More thisla pie?" Molla Organa had offered Carth three pieces already, scarcely letting him get a word in edgewise. The first had been delicious, the second an indulgence, the third to be polite and now-

"I'm good, thanks. "It's kind of you to put me up like this, but I was really hoping to speak to Polla and Seiran."

"So are we," Jasp muttered. "But we have to wait til dark."

"It's a bit complicated." The woman scowled. "Those insurance agents have been sniffing around our farm ever since your wife pulled her stunt on Biscain. Transgalactic Underwriters think our daughter's alive, and so her husband might be too…" Molla Organa lowered her voice as if the insurance investigators were lurking in the kitchen. "Pollie and Sei come over after dark sometimes, but they can't stay in the house. Barn's nice enough-and there's room if you're staying long-how long are you staying?"

"Moll-" Jasp's voice was a warning. He shook his head.

"Jasp! We've had enough excitement," Molla snapped back. "Sydax promised not to press charges but-"

"No, I'm, uh not… not staying." Carth was uncomfortably aware of his flagship in orbit above their planet, his shuttle parked in their field with Mission and his first and second lieutenants aboard. How many times had Revan told him how much Deralians loved to gossip? "Uh, officially, I'm just here to give the people of Deralia our thanks from the Republic."

"For what?" Molla scoffed.

"For… Knight Beya Organa." Carth had pulled that one out of his ass at their last cabinet meeting, but Denis and Rew had agreed and convinced Jiya and the rest. "She was a hero in the Mandalorian Wars."

"Yeah she was." Jasp raised his glass. Polla's father looked thinner and greyer than ever, but he seemed to be hanging on. Carth was glad of it. "Nothing more recent?"

"Do you want a commendation, too? I wasn't sure-"

"Pollie's the one who deserves it. Naw." Jasp smiled. "Just messing with you, Admiral. Sir."

"Carth. Please. It's always Carth."

"Fine." Jasp snorted. "Carth. Carth, General Sheris was on the vids the other day. You see the broadcast?"

"No, I…." Carth avoided as much HoloNet as he could. The vids were full of speculations about the permanence of peace with the Empire, and breathless commentary on his wife's sacrifice. He supposed he should be grateful D'Reev's spin doctors had outlived the man, because they seemed to be working overtime, now. The propaganda was working. The galaxy loved 'General Sheris.' She was a hero across the galaxy, and the Fleet with her.

His wife, Carth thought, would have hated every second of it.

"Have another slice of pie!" Molla's eyes were too bright as she leaned in, practically shoving the plate in his lap. "We're not sure," she added in a whisper. "Pollie won't say, which we figure means yes, right? Cause if it was no, she'd say. Thought you could tell them apart..."

"Know what?" Like Carth's mind hadn't already gone to that impossible place a thousand times already. What if she's not dead? What if she tricked them all somehow-we did it before-

"We taped all of the speeches." Molla continued. "Don't tell Pollie about that. We'll take you over there after you watch."

"Show him the first one!" Jasp ordered, settling back on the couch.

"I really should be going-we still have that ceremony to prepare-" As Carth stood, the piece of pie slid across his lap and onto his dress pants before landing on the floor. Behind Molla, the Organa's ancient housekeeping droid clucked with dismay..

"We'll get that later," Polla's mother said as Carth fumbled with the remnants of the pie and the plate.

"Sure. Uh, sorry… sorry." He tried to hand the plate to her but Molla shoved him back and down with a surprisingly strong arm.

"Watch," she ordered him. "Bolts? Guard."

The droid moved between the exit and Carth's position.

Next to him on the couch, Jasp chuckled. "Don't you know not to disobey an Organa woman's order in her own home?"

"Fine! Okay… I'll see." Carth knew he'd been outgunned. He sat the plate and the mangled pie slice back on his knee. The thisla fruit juice was soaking into his only pair of dress whites. His tailor-droid would have a fit.

Your tailor-droid, Captain Obvious? Ooooo. Fancy.

That was why he didn't want to watch the speeches. Carth didn't want to lose that little echo of what she might say in his head. But he couldn't say that to Polla's parents, not with both of them smiling at him like a pair of nexu with their prey. Not when he was their guest.

"Looking forward to it," he mumbled.

The first speech was the Hoth broadcast, the one Carth had never been able to get through before. The red-headed woman in white embraced her mother as holo-cams flashed. One lone guard slouched in the corner in patchwork armor with a decidedly non-military air.

"I can turn the sound up," Jasp offered.

"No-" Carth began but the man was already doing so.

Her voice told him nothing. When he closed his eyes, those stilted words could have been either of them.

"I don't know," Carth admitted finally. The woman in the holo had a golden arm. She gave a short speech. Then she retreated with the woman who said she was her mother. The armored guard followed them. The guard could have been the other Revan under that helm-or she could have been his wife escorting the other Revan. The guard was taller than the red-head, but that could have been her boots-

"That's Pollie in the armor," Jasp bragged, just as Carth was about to suggest his theory.

"Our daughter admitted that much," Molla nodded. "You're welcome to wait, here..." even as her husband shook his head she continued. "If that woman is our Revan, she's gonna come here eventually." She sighed. "Course the way she's going, it could be years."

"With that ship of his in orbit? No. Too much attention follows you, Carth," Jasp Organa shook his head. "No offense."

"You're right." Too much attention that Carth was trying to keep away from Dustil and his twins, too. "I'll go in the morning. But if I could see Polla first-"

"Maybe she'll tell you," Molla sighed. "Or… Seiran's awfully twitchy. Might get something out of him. Catch him alone-if Pollie's in the room he'll never say."

"Sec. Watch the next vid," Jasp adjusted the screen. "Speech she gave at the Kuat shipyards. Tell me what you see!"

Carth watched. The red-headed woman was stiff-too stiff. She moved too carefully, with none of the grace either of them had. She stood before the podium and reached behind her head, golden fingers twisting on air-

"Her top knot. See? She's reaching for it!" Jason leaned forward. "She does that a lot. That's what made me start wondering."

"Maybe." Carth had noticed something else this time when the camera panned in close. The expression on her face, the way her mouth went as she spoke, the way her lips pursed and her eyes lowered, then slid sideways when she smiled-

It wasn't one thing, he realized.

It was everything.

"Another vid?" Jasp asked.

"Yeah." Carth leaned forward, blinking back something in his eye. Beautiful, he thought. Why wouldn't you tell me?

But he knew the answer already.

Why didn't I see?

Xxx

"In the spirit of galactic unity together, we can forge bonds of peace across the stars. A peace that can last as long as the stars itself if we all believe…."

General Sheris Loran, Speech at Kuat Shipyards 3951 BBY

-compiled by Archivist Lanna T'so, University of Coruscant

Xxx

When he reached the barn, Carth didn't have to say anything. Polla Organa Wen took one look at him and put her son down.

The kid had her brown eyes and his father's nose. He made a startled noise at Carth and took off running across the barn floor.

"Technically, I made a promise," Polla told Carth, gesturing for him to come farther inside, while Seiran grinned like he was being held at blaster-point. "And I've kept it, 'cept for telling my husband and he doesn't count. Secrets are very bad in a marriage." The Deralian elbowed her husband. "Sei? Tell him, already."

"Your wife's alive," Seiran said flatly. "Isn't it obvious? It's her on those vids, not the other one."

"I-I didn't look before." Now that he knew, Carth couldn't think of anything else. They were both chattering at him, now, stumbling over each other and finishing each other's sentence with an easy familiarity that made his heart ache. "I should have."

"Tell her she owes us a visit," Polla said, just as Carth was wondering how much longer he had to stand there to be polite. "And tell her if she takes care of the insurance investigators I'll get those Rist assassins off her back."

"Assassins-?" Oh hells. Carth had heard the stories. Thinking she was the other one, he'd even come close to wishing the assassins luck-and then hated himself for thinking it. The two Echani had come closest to taking her out, but Meetra Surik had intervened, and then 'General Sheris' had issued Rien and Drien of Echanis a Fleet's pardon-

That was as far as Carth had read on the flimsi before Myleah started squalling again, and Dustil hollered from the kitchen that they needed eggs.

Polla rattled on. "Uncle Boon put out a death mark, though how he knows she's not Sheris is a mystery. Guess a lot of senators know she's a Revan of one kind or another-maybe Uncle Boon figured one dead Revan is as good as another? See, it's kind of a hessi and thranta situation, and I can't exactly straighten it out as long as I'm legally dead..."

"Uh-huh." Carth's hand went to his comm-link as he tapped in instructions for Mission to start the shuttle, to give their regrets to the Deralian ambassador. To tell his lieutenants to stay on-planet and handle Beya Organa's awards ceremony without him. Something unexpected came up, he wrote. Go ahead with the ceremony. Will send transport back for you.

Back on the ship the droid just beeped when he asked if she'd known. "Of course," Mission whirred. "Speech patterns were all wrong. So obvious! Figured you knew it already, Admiral Obvious."

"You didn't think to say anything?" It was no use getting angry at her, especially when most of what Carth felt was his own guilt. If I'd had eyes to see-if I'd bothered to look-

Mission gave a low whistle. "Dustil and I agreed not to cause your cortex any more emotional distress by mentioning you-know-who."

"You… you're saying my son knew?" Carth was already pulling out his comm-link to check. Did you know Revan's alive? he sent across the stars. Dustil?.

"I assume?" the droid squawked. "Dustil and I didn't talk about Revan except to agree not to. His circuits were on overload dealing with Mekel Jin and those babies."

Hi. His son responded fast across the sub-light band, like he'd been monitoring it. Master Surik says everyone is alive in the Force. 4ever. Revan's looking down at u in the Force. U okay?

Mission beeped again. "Never asked Dustil if he knew-maybe not, actually. He doesn't have my processing power."

I will be. No, I mean she's really- Carth's finger hovered over the unsecured comm-link and then erased his response, scribing another. Just having some deep conversations with Mission.

Ok. C u in 3 rite?

Does that mean three days? Carth typed back. Might be a little longer.

Ok. Dustil's sign-out included a picture of the sacked-out twins. Myleah scowled even in her sleep. Ganesh, once he'd learned how to smile, had never stopped.

Canderous kept asking if I'd seen the broadcasts. "I should have known," Carth said. "I really should have."

"You meatbags are limited," Mission chirped. "So you do want to see Polla Revan again? Want me to hack into the Fleet communications array? Give her a ring?"

"No. Carth closed his eyes, trying to think of a plan. "I mean, yes. Yes, Mission-don't-I'll handle it. No need to hack into anything."

"If you say so," the astromech made a noise uncannily like a teener's exasperated sigh..

"I mean it." Carth was long past the stage where he cared he was lecturing a droid like she was his daughter. "For one thing, you shouldn't hack Fleet communications logs because it's wrong. Remember? We've been over this before."

"That was Senate logs," Mission sighed. "Totally different!"

"Not different." Carth ran a hand through his hair. It had grown shaggy since they'd said goodbye. Would she care? "And you got caught."

"I got seen. Don't worry!" Mission gave a mechanical chuckle. "Still won't trace it back to us, Flyboy. And now we know: Malachor's happy living with House Racharn and going to Amaltine School."

"Yeah," Carth recalled the boy's careful words on Nar Shaddaa again, how he'd refused to leave with them. Revan's son knew to wait for her. He had faith she'd come- "Kore's doing well."

"Revan's doing well pretending to be Sheris, too," the Tee-Three added.

"Yeah." All these months she'd known where Carth was and she'd never commed, never reached out-even when sents were trying to kill her-she'd never let him know-

Maybe she made her choice, Flyboy.

Maybe. His hands were curled into fists. She hadn't looked happy.

"I have a plan," Carth said slowly. "Don't hack into anything, okay? I've got this, Mission. I promise."

"Okay," the astromech replied, sounding doubtful.

Xxx

General Sheris Loran and I have never been friends, but in the first months after the Machine Wars, we worked closely together. In that time Malak's former concubine gained my respect-even admiration.

Admiral Rew Ekkumi of the Seventh Republic Fleet, Retirement Speech, 3922, BBY

-compiled by Archivist Lanna T'so, University of Coruscant

Xxx

Half a Day Later…

(Coruscanti Standard Units)

Xxx

Admiral Rew Ekkumi pulled out the embossed invitation that had been delivered by expedited courier to their offices. Under normal circumstances, the request would be unusual. Under these… well, Rew and Denis had been privately anticipating something like this for quite some time.

Rew pushed the folded plimsi across the table. "A letter just came for you, General."

Green eyes looked up from the stack of nav charts that lay between them. They worked with epherma here in High Command. Stacks of plimsi, and stylos. Classified documents that could be disintegrated once committed to memory. "Another shipyard opening? Or guild conference?" A red eyebrow lifted. "Why is the letter already open?"

"I assumed it was a simple supply offer-" Rew could make all the excuses in the galaxy. Across the table their Jedi General had already scanned the contents in an eye-blink, while Denis put down his sixth cup of tea.

"It's not." The words were even, but the woman's face had closed up like a fan. "Not simple at all." That pitiless gaze glared at Rew again. "You saw?"

"I did."

Those green eyes didn't blink. "He's asked for me. In person."

"Yes. Admiral Onasi is, technically, entitled to another Republic Cross of Glory, and, as a high-ranking admiral, if he wishes to have you bestow it, you should consider his request an informal order-" Rew began, but she was speaking to empty air. General Sheris, or Revan-or, as she and Denis had become undeniably aware-the woman who had bested Malak at the Star Forge and won the Machine Wars-was already halfway across the room, scanning a map of the galaxy.

"Navigator Trez," Revan said into their command speaker. "Prepare my ship. We'll need to jump to the Telos System. Immediately." She glanced at Rew. "Under the circumstances, I believe I'll go alone."

"You've earned the right," Rew told her. For it was true. "With an escort of guards, of course. For your own protection."

"For my own protection," the woman repeated woodenly. "Of course."

Xxx

My parents were liars, but they were happy. -HL

[Inscription on an empty mausoleum, Chiras City, Telos. Archivist's note: Apocrypha suggests this tomb was designed to be the final resting place for Talonis Revan and Bastila Shan. In light of recent findings, perhaps a different conclusion should be drawn….]

-compiled by Archivist Lanna T'so, University of Coruscant

Xxx

Two Days Later…

(Telos Polar Calculation)

Xxx

When Carth's wife came back to him she came without warning and not alone. She came back with an escort of ten Republic bodyguards, (for her safety, because of the assassination attempts), and an entire holo-vid crew.

Carth had pictured their reunion taking place in so many places: a pristine forest, a beach-even an ice-hut on Hoth like the dream she'd started to tell him once-but never like this: aboard the Telos orbital in the ambassador's reception room; recorded like a fragile peace.

"On behalf of the Republic…" her artificial hand held the Republic Cross of Glory stiffly and her face was neutral. It could have been Carth's imagination that made those green eyes burn like hyperdrive coils, imbuing every word with a double meaning. Dressed in white, her cropped hair set in curls, her eyes outlined and her lips tinted artificially red, she was beautiful, and nothing like his Beautiful. Nothing at all. "Here." She held it out to him, as Carth walked up the red carpet toward her. "I am pleased to offer you another Republic Cross of Glory, Admiral Onasi."

"Uh, thanks. Thank you… ah-"

"General Sheris Loran." Not even a hint of a smile. "I have been assisting High Admiral Cein and Diplomatic Admiral Ekkumi purely in an advisory capacity…" the way her voice crisped on the words made Carth realize that Denis and Rew must know-hell, probably half the Fleet brass knew-and that explained a lot: her guards, the ritualized formality of this scene-maybe some of those assassins that kept trying to kill her. "But I put those matters on hold to come here. As per your own request."

"Oh." Carth had… he'd meant it as a joke. An offer she could refuse if she didn't want to come. He'd never meant for them to go through with an actual ceremony-but now his wife stood in front of him; eyes fixed on his face: narrowed, calculated, and careful. "Uh. Yes. I liked the first two medals so much, General, that I wanted another."

"I agree, it looks nice next to the other two, Admiral." Her golden fingers tightened the pin on his chest. Her flesh hand reached up and brushed his hair back from his forehead, startling him with the swiftness of the intimacy, the glistening green of her eyes.

"Caref-" but if Carth had really meant to warn her, he wouldn't be bending forward as her hand slid behind his neck, meeting her mouth with his own, wrapping his arm around her waist, and pulling her into him, showing her how desperately how much he'd missed her.

"Blast!" Someone said behind them. "We're still on the delay-?"

"Nope. Shmir said to cut to live when we got to the room."

"Cut the feed!"

"Gonna kill you," Carth murmured against her lips, moving to her ear, feeling a shock of satisfaction at her low chuckle, her soft sigh. "Making me think you were…."

"Shhh." Her mouth attached to his with the tenacity of a mynock leaving Carth no choice but to kiss her more.

"Denis might kill us both." Her smile might have meant she was joking-or simply that she didn't care. "Promised Rew I wouldn't make a scene." Her lips nuzzled his ear. "Suspect they've known who I am for a while."

"I'm the one who should've known," he mumbled into her hair. "Should've watched your speeches. I should've watched you before-but I didn't want to see-"

"Ahem!" Someone said from outside the world. "I said cut-"

"I wanted to just comm." Her eyes were liquid-bright, a hyperdrive jolt. "I wanted to comm you so many times, but I wasn't sure… you… the way we left things-"

"I wanted to take back what I'd said." The hell with the cameras! "I kept that Sith lord tied up in my room for a week before releasing him back to their ambassador. I kept hoping you'd come back-even like that-"

Humor sparked in her eyes. "You wanted that kiss?"

"Ahem!" The cameraman sounded frantic.

"Yes." He landed another one on her lips to smother her laughter.

"Sorry." Revan glanced back at their audience. "I imagine this must seem quite untoward."

"Yeah. Not regulation." Carth reached for her hand. Metal fingers, nearly as warm as flesh. She must have cut it off, he realized. It would have hurt so much-

A small thing in the middle of the universe, but he felt his eyes fog over anyway.

"I apologize," Revan announced to the holocams. "The Captain-ah, the Admiral and I wanted to wait for a more… seemly time to announce our engagement, but… I do know how this looks."

"Like he has a thing for redheads?" muttered one of the cameraman.

"We're still broadcasting live," said another one. Probably the one in charge. He had a hat shoved over his ear-stalks and a clipped datapad in his talons. "This is HoloNet gold."

"It's… awkward," Carth muttered weakly. "Yeah. But we…"

"We fell in love on Dromund Kaas," his wife announced. When Carth glanced her way she was staring at the ground-and blushing. "You see, Revan had commanded me to impersonate her, and that meant Carth and I were together for a great deal of the time-"

"We… uh, had her blessing," Carth chimed in hastily.

"We did not," his wife objected. "What kind of sent would agree to something like that? We had an understanding. Revan Starfire sacrificed everything to save the galaxy. But that didn't mean she wanted me to take her husband. As I recall she was extremely possessive of him… of you." The sideways smile she directed at him made Carth want to laugh at loud, but in front of the cameras, all he could do was nod.

"You can't stop love, though," he added.

His wife snorted, turning to face him so her eye roll was just between them. "And you shouldn't even try."

"I guess you're coming on our Galactic Goodwill Tour, now, Admiral Onasi," one of the cameramen muttered. "Great."

"HoloNet gold!" The one who had to be the director sounded more enthused.

"The Sith Emperor himself couldn't stop me." Carth pulled Revan close again, tried to bury his face in her hair, stymied by the stiffness of it, the elaborate styling. "I hate this," he murmured in her ear. "You taste like paint and paste."

"You don't." His wife pressed her face into the hollow of his neck, her breath making every centimeter of him shiver. "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner. I wasn't sure-"

"I know," he told her, pulling in for another kiss.

XXX

ADMIRAL CARTH ONASI ADMITS TO BONDAGE PLAY WITH SITH LORD

Admiral Carth Onasi and his Fiance Sheris Loran were reunited last week in a reunion that can only be described as staged. What's curious, however, is Admiral Onasi's hot mic reference to tying up a Sith Lord for a week in his quarters?

It should be noted that his soon-to-be-wife, the galaxy's most famous padawan, expressed absolutely no surprise….

-Coruscant Sun, Weekly Dispatch 3951 BBY

-compiled by Archivist Lanna T'so, University of Coruscant.

XXX

Three years after that…

(Megarth Spacelane Standard)

Xxx

"Your supply chains are overextended," the hooded woman dressed in white said, interrupting the Republic admiral who'd been dancing around promising the Megarth System support for a good twenty minutes. "The Admiral is too polite to say it, but you don't have the fuel reserves to go this alone, and you don't have the resources to maintain your command-especially if you intend to keep up the patrols in the Neck. And then there's the insurgency in your home system? What do you intend to do about that?"

First Commander Diskula of the Free Oriono Fleet had taken her for a secretary, with her head bent to the datapad before her, tracing symbols with her stylus, but when the woman raised her head and pushed her visor back, he had to reassess the thought. Green, hooded eyes blinked calmly at him. Her red hair was coiled into braids on her head. One hand was ostentatiously artificial-a bright, almost cheap golden color. The other twisted the stylus between her fingers and put it down, before resting itself atop her rounded belly.

Her. And with child? "Uh-" you. At that moment, he realized he had no idea what to call her. "You don't know our reserves, Meez-"

"Onasi." Her lips twitched. "Ensign Onasi, if it makes you more comfortable, Commander Diskula. The ensign title's not official, but I've stopped going by 'General.'" Her teeth were white and even. "Being as we aren't at war."

"I thought you were… retired?" There'd been a tribute vid, when the First Imperial Peace Summit had been declared a resounding success. "Uh, Knight Sheris Darkstar-"

"Loran," she said firmly. "Really, it's Onasi, now, though. And I am forever a padawan, I'm afraid."

"Oh. Uh, that's a shame-"

"No it's not. Some of the best Jedi were padawans. Are we done here?" Her eyes turned to Admiral Onasi. "I need to piss, darling. Hoth's dancing on my bladder again."

"We're not done talking about that name," the Republic's High Admiral muttered. "But… yes. Admiral Diskula, my wife's not wrong. She's seen your numbers-and she knows those pirates you're up against. If she says you need our help, I'd listen and take it."

"She knows the pirates?" Oh, but this was too much. To be strong-armed into taking advice from Lord Malak's former concubine? "The pirates and our supply chains? You're bluffing."

Admiral Onasi ran a hand over the stubble on his chin. "Bluffing, by offering to save your necks out here?"

"It's obvious! You want to keep the Spire open to trade! You need our jump points-"

"No, we don't." The Admiral shook his head. "Beautiful, let's find you that bathroom, shall we?"

"I can hold it til we get back to our shuttle… probably." Malak's former whore was graceful when she stood, despite her bulk. "Is there lunch?"

"There can be." Onasi stepped closer and she slid her golden arm around his waist.

"Good. And half a cup of caff."

"The medix said-"

"Frack the medix. Ma said it was fine, if I only had half a bulb." She leaned into him with an intimacy that made Diskula wonder if they remembered he was even in the room.

"You're the Jedi-" Onasi sighed.

"Mmmm," she tilted her face up and kissed him, unabashedly intimate. Maybe she enjoyed finally having a partner with a mouth. "I am the Jedi. You are the Fleet Admiral."

"And that guy over there? What's he?"

"The fool who'd rather turn his system over to a crime syndicate than have a patrolled spacelane." Green eyes squinted. "Maybe he's running a side deal… on the side."

"I… never!" It was a lie. But they were turning to go. And the cursed thing was… that Jedi bint was right. Without more fuel, their patrols didn't have a chance. "Wait!"

They turned back, the woman whispering something in the man's ear.

"Wait! We'll accept the terms!"

"Good," the woman practically purred.

It was a week later when the contracts were signed and sealed and their system obligated to the Republic that Diskula heard from her again.

Just a brief note.

Now you know what a bluff truly is. -SLO

XXX

What was it like to grow up without the Force with a Jedi for a mother?

Not that different from growing up anywhere else, I think. It might have been different if they'd raised me on a Jedi Enclave, but by the time I came around, my parents were both retired. We all lived on our ship half the time-and the other half-

I'm afraid that's classified.

-Corporal Onasi-Loran, "Growing up with the Last Padawan: An Adoptee's Memories," 3902 BBY.

-compiled by Archivist Lanna T'so, University of Coruscant.

XXX

Eleven years after that….

(Alderaan Pan-Galactic Time)

Xxx

"I'm just saying, if the schools are bad you should let me reprogram the kids' HK-guard-unit for a broader perspective!" Mission's appendage extended with just the hydrospanner that Polla had been looking for. "Hoth and Malachor have both seen the benefit of having my data-banks around for advice!"

Polla sighed. "Does their Ma know you've reprogrammed their chap-droids?" Kore was a legal adult now, so he could take questionable advice from Rakatan artifacts all that he wanted, but Hoth was a handful-at twelve already giving Polla more gray hairs than her own twins. Even if Revan's hair remained red as rain, her daughter's antics were aging the rest of them well before their time. On the Antares mission, Hoth had slipped out and stolen the prototype vaccine for Dawnfever-6, then tried it on herself before going ahead and inoculating an entire creche of Calamari scrubs.

Yeah, she'd saved a lot of lives-and that was what the Mercy Corps was all about-but then Hoth had started bragging about it, and she'd pissed off the Geonosian scientists who'd had the patent pending. After that little stunt, Polla and Revan had agreed to ground all of their spawn from the Mercy Corps runs. At least for the next quarter.

"Of course Polla Revan knows I reprogrammed the droids!" Mission whirred indignantly. "Think I'd lie to her?"

"Banthashit." The droid protested too much.

"Okay, okay! Polla Revan suspects. I think she suspects. But she's not mad."

"I've gotta tell her." Nothing got past Polla's partner for long, but the woman had a few blind spots when it came to family. "At least about Hoth's chap-droid. Hey! Did Hoth's HK have anything do with her lifting the vaccine-?"

"Error: that data is unavailable." Mission beeped a trill of notes like a laugh. "No way! Listen, the kid really needed an edge. Snooty Eglantines were teasing her-you don't wanna know what they were saying."

"That's probably true." Polla gave up trying to adjust the Hawk's atmospheric boosters. "Pretty sure it's illegal to shoot Eglantines on Coruscant-even with a spark-gun-so it's probably best I don't know what those little shits said about my Grass-Child."

"Checking…" Mission's lights flashed. "Yep! Illegal!"

"I was joking!" Polla had already checked, after the poor kid had that incident with the Phin heir turning her in for an unregistered lightsaber. Why Carth and Revan insisted on raising their only child on that kinrath nest of a planet was beyond Polla. Sure, Coruscant had made sense when the two of them had had to clock in with the Fleet, but since Carth had retired, Polla didn't get why they kept themselves out on parade. Kore was grown and Revan had stopped going to the Jedi Temple a few years ago. There was nothing keeping them on Coru, now.

Except maybe her partner's damn pride.

Xxx

"But-"

"But we like it here," Revan told Polla. They sat together in an outdoor cafe on Coruscant's famous Grand Promenade. Both of them in holo-masks-Revan not to draw attention on account of being famous, and Polla because of the Transgalactic Underwriters. "Carth's gotten very interested in Fleet outreach, and I do some work with a few charities-"

"As you?" Polla would have laughed, but her friend's expression (her own, even blurred by the fake face) was too serious for that.

"Well.. ." The woman shrugged, a perfect wave of blonde hair falling over one (fake) black eye. "From time to time-yes."

"You wouldn't have to come to the Dafelli Rim, you know. Hell, you guys could settle on Onderon-"

"We couldn't." Revan fiddled with the remains of her meal. "Actually. The Queen-"

"What, still?" Polla scoffed. "Didn't she and Dustil finally make it official?"

"Yes." One side of that fake mouth twitched. "One of her conditions was that we don't come back."

"You and Carth and Hoth."

"And Mekel Jin. Millifar considers us all one clan. Package deal." Revan frowned. "Sometimes I wonder if there's another reason-something she's hiding on that planet..."

"Think the Mando'ade are going to invade the Core again?"

"No." From her arctic tone, Revan didn't find that funny. "Something else."

"Gonna tell me what?" Polla already knew the answer was no from the way Revan's fake face had fixed on a point in the distance. "Fragment?" She clapped her hands sharply. "Hey!"

The charming smile was as artificial as that blonde hair. "Shall we order dessert?"

Xxx

On Alderaan, the ground took that moment to rumble. Then it did it again.

"Seismic activity detected, epicenter, four-eight-three-" Mission began rattling off coordinates as Polla switched to exterior views. Their remote drone bobbed out of the Hawk's external cabinet-bay, panning across the sky-capped mountains, the snow-flocked meadows. Alderaan looked gorgeous as always, and from a distance, peaceful.

No sign of trouble. Yet. Polla sighed. "Hell. What's she done now?"

The ground rumbled again.

"Prepping the engines for lift," Mission whirred, not bothering to answer. "Let's not have a repeat of Octavin III."

Xxx

After the Machine Wars, my ancestors Talonis Revan and Bastila Shan lived a simple life on a remote planet in the Outer Reaches. It is said that they had ten children, or five, or three.

I'd tell you the truth if I could, Tasiele, but some things are best left forgotten.

-Master Meris Shan, Journal Entry, BBY 3716.

[Note: Is it possible that Meris Shan was complicit in the Talonis Revan myth?]

-compiled by Archivist Lanna T'so, University of Coruscant

Xxx

Revan stood alone in the circular cavern, blinking at the rows of unconscious sents who'd been stunned by the blast of her Force-scream. Mostly Human, Gamorrean, and Killick. None dead.

Don't get too cocky, her inner voice whispered. We've got about ten minutes before they wake up. Less... if another hive felt that shockwave.

"What're you doing?" Mission sounded entirely too perky in Revan's ear.

"Getting the samples Zaalbar wanted." It wasn't ethical to knock an entire hive of Killick unconscious and then swab them to help a Wookiee's research into hive minds; but these Killick were Exchange-allied and they 'recruited' most of their drones from Huttese slave auctions. Revan couldn't do anything to help the unconscious sents in front of her-there was no reversal for a Killick Joining-but the work Zaalbar was doing back on Kashyyyk might stop the Emperor.

If he ever rose to power again.

When, not if. More of a feeling than anything else. Vitiate would be back. Someday-

And then it will be my turn to stop him.

"Hey! Polla Revan? Polla Polla was asking if Abasen and the twins could have some of my programming set in their chap-droid?" From the sweetness in the astromech's voice, Polla had asked no such thing. Still, it wasn't a bad idea. The Dafelli Rim was remote enough that Polla's kids missed out on a lot of opportunities, and with Bastila Junior showing signs of Force-sensitivity, she'd need training. No way that Polla and Seiran would want to turn one of their twins over to Surik and her Jedi Army-and even if they had entertained the concept-Revan wouldn't let them. Surik had tried to get her claws in Hoth, too-and what had once been a guarded alliance between Master Surik and Padawan Loran was now close to open enmity.

"Nothing hazardous to sentient life, Mission," Revan warned the droid.

"Of course not! They're just children!"

"Okay. Let me review the files you're using as the origin matrix and if they're appropriate, I'll upload the same into Hoth's chap.".

"What a great idea!" Mission's enthusiasm for Revan's ideas never waned-unlike Hoth's. Maybe some of Mission's zeal would rub off on her daughter. After that crazy stunt on Antares, Revan had been at a loss about how to explain why her headstrong child shouldn't follow her instincts. Because, Force damn it, Hoth's instincts were uncannily right most of the time-as if the Force itself were smiling down on her.

On Antares, Revan had forbidden the kid to leave the ship. But if Hoth had listened to her mother that entire creche of Calamari kids-and half of their village-would now be dead. That made it difficult for Revan to explain how her daughter had made the wrong choice.

Even Carth, military man through and through, had been flummoxed.

Xxx

"Don't know whether to punish or praise her," he'd finally said. "She's so much like you, Freckles. You would have done the same damn thing."

"I know." That was the rub. "Would I have been right?"

"You'd do it anyway." Her husband had flecks of gray silvering his hair, now, and the creases around his eyes had deepened. "And those sents would be alive, so….."

"So?"

Her husband laughed. "My son would tell you to trust in the Force."

"That's because Dustil's a good Jedi." They were (mostly) all good Jedi. But Dustil was one of the only ones that Revan still trusted-even if his wife would never trust her.

Lin could speak to Millifar, the cold voice whispered. You've held up your end of the bargain. Stayed away from Onderon. Left the Mando'ade alone to be free-

No. Some cures were worse than the disease. The New Jedi Order was proof of that-

Xxx

"Sis? You still there?" Mission's sub-voc interrupted Revan's thoughts.

"Yeah." Revan pulled out her sample kit and got to work as the computer chattered on. She was bent over the Joined and trying not to gag on sewer breath when she heard the cry-faint and coming from one of the arterial corridors branching off this main chamber.

Hoth, Revan thought irrationally, even though her daughter was safe on Coruscant with Carth. In the Force she felt one tiny spark of life, distinct from the diffused glow of the Killick bio-mass.

The ground rumbled again. Dirt sifted down over Revan's ears, buzzing out the field of her holomask.

"Damn." Revan took a breath and focused, bringing the Force and her surroundings to sharp relief, as she moved, tracing the spark to its source. A passageway widened in front of her: an egg-chamber full of Killick brood.

"You making earthquakes, sis? Cause if you're not careful you're gonna bring a few million kilos of snow down on our valley. Polla says, cut it out!"

"No," Revan whispered. "That wasn't me-"

"What was it?"

"Nothing. It's nothing." The egg-chamber was barely tall enough to stand in; walls warm; eggs glowing. Some eggs were larger than others-larger than she was. Inside those, Revan could see the shapes of sents awaiting their rebirth.

Some were tiny-small enough to hold Killick larvae.

The bodies inside all were outlined by the eggs' luminescence: Humanoid, Insectine, and-

Hells. Some of them were children.

The ground shook again.

The crying noise started and stalled to a faint whimper.

Xxx

"The Killick think they're rescuing slaves when they Join," Uncle Boon had told Polla and Revan. "That's why the Hives buy from the slave-marts. They think they're doing good."

"Your crazy Jedi friend thinks she's doing good, too," Polla muttered in Revan's ear. Around the banquet table, the rest of newly-formed House Organa gaped at the pair of them. Most had just been sworn, under penalty of death and asset forfeiture, not to reveal Revan's real identity-or Polla's status as a living sent-to anyone. The 'Revanites,' as Uncle Boon liked to call their secret society, were over the moons to meet their idol in person-just like all the other sents on all the other worlds had been.

Over the years, Revan and Polla had collected allies and resources on all sides of Rim. House Organa was one of their most reliable-given as Uncle Boon had so much to live down. It had taken him a year to call off House Rist-despite both of them (and Ma) leaving increasingly direct messages about his idiocy. In the end, it had taken Revan and Polla crashing one of his infamous masquerade balls and cornering him between a vat of mulled wine and two blasters before he finally saw reason.

"As I've said before, Meetra's not quite a friend," Revan murmured in Polla's ear. "More like a necessary evil."

"Necessary, huh? Is what she does to those Jedi disciples of hers so different from this Killick banthashit?"

"Yes." Barely. "Anyone is free to leave the Order. Killick recruits don't have a choice."

"You're not free," Polla whispered back.

"That's my choice." Polla's point was accurate but irrelevant. If Revan left Coruscant entirely, Surik would reign unchecked. Revan had no desire to join the New Jedi Order-and even less desire to run it-but her presence and her allies within the Senate and Fleet had stymied Meetra's ambition more than once.

And would again, if Thalia May's predictions could be trusted.

Xxx

Revan found the baby under a layer of smashed egg-sack. A small Human-maybe Human-hybrid. A boy-child with a shock of rough hair.

Maybe the boy had been too young, or the egg itself defective. The reason the Joining had failed didn't matter. The baby whimpered when Revan picked him up, cries fading like all of his tears were done. When Revan looked down, the baby's eyes were a light gray, pupils pinned in Revan's Force-light, with none of the telltale Killick black. The child was still dressed in a stained rompy that looked like it had been made by hand, whether for love or lack of credits Revan would never know.

"We're getting you out of here." In her arms the kid felt lighter than Hoth ever had, as if his limbs were knit together with eridu.

The ground shook again.

"Sis? Seeing some kind of implosion along the east ridge of the big mountain. You sure these Killick didn't have friends?"

"Turns out I was wrong. Tell Polla to get the engines ready. We're leaving hot." Revan could feel the nearby Hives in the Force. Numerous enough to make the ground shake-and closing in on their position.

Xxx

With all due respect, Masters, the difference between a smuggler and a Jedi is measured by millimeters-not with a hypothetical quagmire.

My mother's training was just as important to my education as my Aunt Revan's.

Registered Smuggler and Jedi Knight Bastila Organa-Wen, Excerpt from her Interview for Admittance to the Dantooine Enclave, 3923 BBY.

Xxx

"Tell Revan I can hear her fine!" Polla kept her hands on the yoke as crosswinds buffeted the Hawk.

"Look at that!" Mission sounded thrilled. "Ten o'clock! Avalanche! Told you we had seismic problems!"

"-go- it's-rred-" Revan's mic started glitching as if to make Polla a liar.

The Ebon Hawk was already ten meters in the air with its bay doors open and Polla's hands tight on the yoke. "You want me to leave you or what?" Polla spoke into the mic only to hear static hiss back at her. "Now I can't hear you at all-"

"She said, lift off, she's on her way," Mission translated.

"-lp!"

"Was that call for help-?" Polla's voice trailed off because in addition to the clouds of snow barrelling down, a streak across the green meadow in the viewscreen resolved itself to be her partner, holomask down and red hair blazing. Like all Jedi, Revan moved insanely fast, but right now her arms were clasped around something, which gave her gait a lumbering lope. That would have been funny if not for their impending doom.

Behind Revan, a black, shifting mass that had to be an entire Killick hive surged forward. Maybe even two hives. Polla barely had time to register the threat before the ship rocked like someone had jumped into the open bay and landed hard.

"Hope that's you, Dar'Polla," she muttered, bringing the Hawk's nose up. The avalanche of snow from the mountain seemed to be traveling in slow motion now, too-another fracking miracle. As she pushed them skyward, it froze, curving above the Killick swarm like a giant, half-open fist.

Polla had long stopped questioning miracles. Her partner's Force powers seemed to increase every year. With every increase came more complications-miracles tended to increase visibility, which their Mercy Corps didn't exactly need. Alderaanian meteorologists would have a field day explaining a frozen avalanche.

They had to be long gone from this system before that happened.

"Polla Revan's in!" Mission reported. "Awww, and she's brought a friend! What is that? Human?"

"Think so. Maybe something else, too." Revan appeared in the door of the cockpit just as Polla pointed them skyward, twisting to avoid the rocket launches an entire hive (or two) were now aiming at their ship. The Jedi's metal hand held a bulb of blue milk she must've pulled from the fresher, and her flesh arm wrapped around a silent, wide-eyed toddler. Maybe two or three, by Polla's estimation.

"Looks Human to me." Maybe the toddler's eyebrows were a little furry. The eyes beneath weren't black and creepy so they hadn't kidnapped a Killick this time, just a regular Alderaanian citizen.

Polla winced, thinking about what Uncle Boon might say about breaking Hive neutrality. Again. After the last time-

"He's got seven fingers on each hand," Revan examined the fingers worriedly, just like she'd fussed over Hoth every time that poor kid caught a cold. She collapsed in the copilot's chair, holding the bottle of milk for the kid like he was two months instead of two years.

"So we'll teach him to play the electroharp." Polla pointed them toward the jump-points and the freedom of the black.

Revan laughed. Her braided hair was caked with mud and snow and something Polla suspected was Killick slime. "Thought you'd be mad. Only got ten samples and I pissed off at least three hives. Guess Master Loanin was right-they're all connected."

Might as well be pissed at the sun than be pissed at you, sis. "Azen and Lydie will be thrilled. Did they get a look at your face-your real face?"

"My mask shorted. Then I had to cut through about twenty so…." Revan shrugged. "Yeah."

Damn shame. But nothing to be done, now. "Well, the kid doesn't look Alderaanian. Or Deralian. Or Corellian. Odds are, he's from the slave market, and not some noble's tribute." Polla forced cheerfulness into her voice. "I'm sure Uncle Boon will let us know if he's anyone important-right before he writes us out of the will."

"Boon's gonna be pissed, huh?"

"After the Panteer heist he told us if this went Hutt-shaped we were on our own."

"We'll have to find a new asset in this quadrant. At least for a few years….." Revan sighed. "I am sorry."

"Yeah, yeah." Polla shrugged. "You always are, Dar'Polla."

And then at Revan's dejected look she laughed.

XXX

After that Cally girl ran off back to her theatrics and Jiya stopped calling, Sheris Loran was such a comfort. She and my Bastila were friends, you know. They trained to be Jedi together, long ago. We talk about Bastila when Sheris has time to visit.

Sheris and her husband Carth Onasi found me this lovely house and my beautiful garden. Do you know the cost of an outdoor plot upon Coruscant? I import everything from Talravin-not many native plants left upon this world.

Padawan Sheris comes every spring to help plant the derra lilies. She tells me stories about Bastila and we put down mulch for the bulbs. I swear it feels like no time at all every time I see her face.

She hasn't aged a day!

See these? These here are her derras. She planted them to honor Bastila and all of the other dead. Careful! The leaves are so sharp-will leave a nasty slice if you're not careful.

Would you like a cup of tea? I'm afraid I don't keep anything stronger in the house.

-Helena Shan, "A Garden Tour," Coruscant Home and Garden Holo-Magazine, 3915 BBY.

-compiled by Archivist Lanna T'so, University of Coruscant

Xxx

One Month Later…

(Dafelli Rim Count)

Xxx

"I can't go to Harvest Dance with you." It killed Abasen to say so, but it was true. "Every year my parents make me go to this stupid resort for summer holli-month."

"Resort?" Wilma Organa was cute. She had a button nose, and a flash mind, and they'd already agreed to see other people until they were older, but Abasen would still take her to the harvest dance… except unfortunately he wouldn't be in town. Or even on the planet. "What the hells is a resort, Abasen?"

"It's like… a beach world." He tried to explain without sounding like he was bragging. A few years back, when he had been bragging and explaining it to Polla Defaly (his girlfriend at the time, even though they'd only been, like ten and not really anything more than racing buds), he'd had an impossible time living it all down. She'd thought he was making it all up until she mentioned it to her parents, who were from the same part of the Derran continent as Abasen's originally-and knew his cousin-something-something removed Bendil, and that had been…

Well, let's just say they'd had kind of a distorted view of history. Some former Deralians now living on the Dafelli Rim had long memories about people who had invaded Deralia-even just the once. Even if they had never really invaded it-just used it as a trap that didn't even work out-and hadn't really been themselves in the first place.

That was when Abasen started to get why the Organa-Wens had left Deralia to settle here on the Dafelli Rim in the first place. Why Da wasn't a famous swoop-building champion like he could be, and why Ma spent a lot of time at target practice and going on secret missions-and not as much time farming frittass seed, like everyone else here on their converted asteroid of a planet. Why he and the twins had a droid for a tutor like nobody else in Ridas Ridge did, and why even though his parents worked, they never seemed that stressed about whether or not the crops failed, like parents were in holovids-or even like his friend's parents.

"A beach... world?" Wilma frowned, pushing back her braids. A lot of kids wore their hair in braids now, eschewing the traditional Deralian topknot. Gran said it was a sign that the world was going to nine hells in a hand grenade. (Abasen still wore a topknot, though. He liked the way it felt, with the wind on the sides of his skull.)

"We go there and swim." Abasen shrugged. "There's droid servants and stuff. Not a ton of people. My cousins come visit, too. From… lots of places."

Not really his cousins, although some of them were actual, literal cousins of each other. Myleah was even getting kind of cute. Maybe not as cute as Wilma, but Abasen thought the green-haired Onderon girl would have potential… if he could overlook the fact that she could probably kill him with a look and the Force. And Ollivair Loanin was like an actual Jedi Padawan now-first one of the Jedi cousins to get a lightsaber. But admitting that would be bragging. Or just opening up to having Wilma ask a whole new set of questions, most of which veered into confidential territory.

His twin sibs Beyo and Bastila were too young to remember the price of fame, but Abasen sure did.

XXX

Sents stopping dead in the street and asking Ma for holographs. Complaints from the school board about the reporters outside, getting mobbed at the market-and the stares. Ma had started wearing goggles and bleached her hair.

But Derra City was a small town, and sents just knew.

It had been pretty rough there for a few years after that dumb muscial. Not even like the muscial mentioned his ma by name… but sents just knew.

XXX

"Your summer holliweek sounds flash." Wilma Organa grinned at him with her dimples. "You ever allowed to bring guests?"

"Never asked." Awkward. But he should be asking, right? He could? Kore had brought that weird Senate girl that one year. Maybe that was different, since he was in the Senate, now-but still.

"I read a holovid article about a planet that was all islands and sand. People have private islands. And huts on them. And stuff." Wilma looked like she was already planning it out. "And boats."

"It's like that." Except we have the entire thing-except for the bug-ears. Abasen wasn't supposed to call them that… but since their real name was confidential and unpronounceable, he needed an alternate.

"It's true what I heard, then?" Wilma's dimples flashed again. "You guys are rich?"

Again, this was awkward. "Ma gives a lot of it away. She's teaching me to fly so I can come with on her… jobs." Hoth and Kore had been going on Mercy Missions since they were both younger than Abasen. Hoth was only twenty-six Dafelli Count now. Almost thirteen Standard.

"Did you guys get Darth Revan's money? When she died?" Abasen must have given it away right then and there because then, Wilma laughed. "We all know, you know. There aren't that many Polla Wens from the Derran continent. I think it's cool. Do you have the Force?"

"Yes," Abasen lied. "That's how I know you like me."

Wilma blushed.

"I have to go," Abasen added, hoping he wasn't blushing, too. "See you around, okay? I'll… I'll ask my Ma."

"Tell her I don't think it's fair you guys are still banned from Republic Space because of that stupid insurance fraud!" Wilma Organa called out as he walked away. "None of us do!"

Xxx

Ma always said being banned from Republic space was an advantage not a misfortune. Meant when we traveled there we never had to use the same name twice.

"A Smuggler's Tale: Good Works Along the Reef," Captain Abasen Organa-Wen. 3918 BBY

-compiled by Archivist Lanna T'so, University of Coruscant

XXX

Two weeks after that…

(Lehon Galactic Time)

Xxx

It was, Hoth thought, rather grimly, a roster of Children with Unfortunate Names Whose Parents Should Have Known Better. There was:

Her dear technically half-brother Malachor (enough said);

Her adoptive semi-siblings by fracked Mandalorian marriage, Dxun and Oerina (named after a bloody battle and an undead Sith Lord, respectively);

Chuundar the Wookiee (named after his own madclaw uncle);

Myleah, Hoth's semi-niece (who was almost three years older than she was and named after some ancient Sith Lord);

Cousin Ollivair who wasn't a real cousin (Hoth had thought he was the one with the normal name, until she read the book about the orphan starving boy);

Abasen the hayseed null (named after Bastila Shan's father for some reason);

Abasen's twin sibs Beyo and Bastila, (named after more Sith);

-and now a new adopted squaller that Hoth's own mother had just picked up off an ice floe or exploding planet somewhere that she was threatening to name Sheris (after herself).

The two kids who'd gotten off lightly, Ganesh and Ilia, were running along the shoreline as if they knew that the rest of them were doomed. Right now, all of the doomed kids were sitting rather peacefully in front of the ocean watching the waves lap the shore, while Mother took the squaller for a dip.

"I think Mother wanted to name me Sheris," Hoth muttered to the room-or rather, the beach- "but she didn't have the guts."

"It's been more years," Kore shrugged, looking every centimeter a grown-up senator. "Sents don't think about the wars as much now."

Hoth smiled at him. He was her technical half-brother (because Mother was technically a clone of his mother), but for all-intense purposes, she considered him a full sib. Mother considered him her son, too, probably because she'd liked his real (dead) mother so much. It got even more complicated from there… but Hoth was tired of getting into it.

"Does your mother still wear a holomask in Pub space?" Ollie asked them.

"When she's not on official Republic business. Yeah." Hoth looked at her mother's pale, freckled back, muscles in it flexing as she held the squaller up so he could see all the ocean. "She refuses to get rid of that dumb prosthesis, though. She could get a flesh arm if she really wanted to blend in-or surgery on her face."

"Maybe she likes who she is." Ollie shrugged.

"You are naive, my child," Hoth patted him on the back. All the Onderon kids were a little slow. They didn't get to meet many people except on Dxun and then just Mando'ade.

"I am not naive," Ollie said back, thereby proving Hoth's point. "I've had lots of experiences. I know a Sith Lord-"

"My mother was never a Sith Lord." Hoth had to continuously dispel that rumor at school. It was irritating to do it with family. "Mother just happened to fall in love with Kore's father. He was the Sith Lord."

"That's true." Kore closed his eyes and leaned back in his sand-chair. "He was."

"Like your dar'buir, eh?" Dxun nudged Myleah.

"I am going to ignore that," the green-haired padawan muttered. "Lord Jin and Father are none of your business."

Oerina laughed, deep from her belly. "Troch. We all saw the duel-"

"Enough!" Spots of color burned on each of Myleah Onasi's perfect cheekbones.

"The Sith Lord I met is coming here tomorrow," Ollivair rattled on. "So you can ask him if I'm naive yourself, Hoth Onasi."

"If you mean Cousin Mekel, he doesn't count." Hoth examined her nails. Ganesh had done the manicure for her the day before and the sparkles were already beginning to chip.

"He does, too. Lord Jin lives on Dromund Kaas." Ollivair was exceedingly stubborn, like all those things they said about sents with horns being hard-headed weren't fake. "His consort is a Darth. He's a Lord. He lives on an Imperial planet. That makes him a Sith."

"If you say so…." Hoth tried to imagine what Cousin Mekel had named his kids, their mysterious cousins. Malak, probably. Exar Kun. Vima Sunrider. "When they get here you can ask."

"It will be a while." Myleah levitated a circle of sand and began shaping it into flowers, like she was showing off how much better she was at the Force than any of them. "Lord Jin's stopping on Onderon, first. The Matriarch agreed to let Faene come at the last minute."

Hoth tried to hide her surprise. "I thought your stepmother didn't want her offworld!" Or Lord Jin on her planet. They were all banned. It had been a big thing.

"She changed her mind." Myleah didn't look phased. "The Beast-Rider Queen and her heir will give us all the courtesy of their company upon this joyous holiday season… and you're going to have to mind your manners, Chuundar."

"See to your own," the Wookiee barked in Shyriiwook. "My father's tree has branches that are even and well-shaped, not twisted around their own trunk like a vine choking out health."

"Myles, stop sounding like a Coruscanti Jettise," Dxun added in Mandalorian, elbowing Myleah."It makes you look stupid."

The sand flowers collapsed. "But it's true," Myles mumbled. Her cheeks were as red as goreapples now. "The Matriarch doesn't eat flesh from any beast. And she despises hunting-" she went on stammering excuses, but from the way Abasen was rolling his eyes he got it as much as Hoth did.

Myleah the perfect padawan was sweet on Dxun, the buff Mandalorian.

How precious. Hoth was excited to meet real Sith progeny, not her other niece Faene Starshine, Mandalorian princess extra-ordinary, whom she'd met numerous times before. She put on her own best Coruscanti Jedi voice. "Oh, how wondrous! Can't wait to see Aunt Millifar again. It's been two years since she kicked us off her lame planet. I know she hates hunting… but is she bringing her guns?"

"We don't appreciate your stereotypes-shhh!" Myleah broke off mid-indignation. "Your mother's turning around."

"She can't hear us," Abasen scoffed. He lowered his voice anyway, glancing at Hoth. "Can she?"

"Of course not," Hoth lied. She had learned long ago that Mother heard everything. Like all those braids of hers had ears.

Mother raised a hand to her face, shading away the sun and waved. "Dinner soon!" she called out. "Hoth, watch your shielding, you're getting too much sun." The squaller on her hip waved too

"I'm fine!" Hoth figured if her skin kept freckling, it might smooth into one solid color, like Beyo's golden brown.

"Your new sib's adorable, Hoth." Abasen was fifteen or seventeen, or thirty-three, depending on which planet you were on. "He got a name yet?"

"Sheris," Hoth told him. "They're going with Sheris. Mother won the coin toss." (She had probably cheated.)

"Oh." Someone snickered. Probably Dxun.

Hoth decided to change the subject, instead of dwelling on the Unfortunate Naming more. "Who wants to play Star Fortress after dinner?"

"You have to be on our team, this time," Oerina grumbled. "And Abasen on the other one. You both cheat."

"We do not!" It was a lie, but Abasen caught her eye and they both laughed. When he wasn't mooning after Myleah he was a decent guy. Hoth was glad their mothers were friends.

"Wish we came here more than one barbarian month a year." Dxun sighed, sinking his toes into the sand. "For troch and dar'manda, you're all very nice people."

"Gararrrr," Chundaar agreed, yowling.

"Me too." Hoth watched her mother tug the straps of her swim-all back down from where the waves had pushed them up on her butt. Even if some of the Children with Unfortunate Names were hopelessly naive, they were better than the Amaltines at school. "Hey! Father's back from his run."

As they watched, her mother hoisted the squaller onto her shoulders and turned toward the setting sun. Backlit by the light, her father jogged up the beach. When he reached his wife-

"Ewww!" Oerina spat on the ground. "It's not like they don't know they're being rude."

"They don't care," Hoth told her. "Besides. It's just a kiss."

"Barbarians," Dxun made a show of looking away. Mandalorians were weird about kissing.

"Hoth! Your skin…." Mother started in on Hoth right after she stopped making out with Father and they both deigned to approach. "You're burnt to a crisp!"

"Don't worry, kiddo. I've got some spray for that." When they were on holiday, her father always let his beard grow in. It was all white above his shock of speckled hair. His skin tanned nearly as well as the Deralians'. Hoth wished she'd inherited that trait. The squaller had started out nut-brown, so he didn't have to worry.

"Hoff," the squaller said, smiling. His eyebrows were immense. He waved her spider-hand at Hoth like they were friends.

"Revan," Hoth told him. "I'm gonna call you that, kid. We've already got a Sheris."

"That's… uh, an interesting idea," her father laughed. "But don't you think it's a little-"

"Lots of kids are named Revan in the Rim," Abasen defended her. Good old Abasen. "Boys and girls both."

"Not on Dxun," Dxun pointed out.

"Or on New Mandalore," Oerina added.

"We are the Children with Unfortunate Names," Hoth announced to her parents. "Why let the squaller off easy?"

Her mother squinted. "Revan wasn't unfortunate."

"Then why not name him Re-"

"Tell you what, kiddo," Hoth's father broke. "When you have your own kids you can name them Revan-okay?"

"Wait," Abasen interrupted. "Are you saying we are the children with unfortunate names? You didn't deny it, Aunt Sheris!"

"I'm saying…" Mother's voice trailed off as she seemed to scan all of their faces before her eyes finally rested on Hoth's grown-up brother, Malachor. "Sometimes you want to honor someone… or remember something. Sometimes a name's all you have to do that with. But it's not all that you are-it's not even what the name becomes. Does that make sense?"

"No," Chuundar growled.

"I'm hungry," Bastila whined. She and her twin Beyo weren't old enough to understand.

It didn't make sense to Hoth, either. Not then. But later she would look back and remember that day-recall the way her mother looked at her father when she said that Revan wasn't unfortunate, and the way he looked back at her. Later, when Hoth had finally forgiven the lie that nearly split them asunder, she would realize that her mother had named the squaller to honor and remember the other woman-the one everyone had forgotten. The squaller didn't end up being named Sheris Revan to remember Revan Starfire or Sheris Loran-but to remember the woman who had gone into the tomb in her mother's stead-the one who was both.

And Hoth's own name had been chosen-

To honor them all.

"Nerf steaks are done!" Aunt Polla's voice rang out over the nearest bobbing remote's speaker. When Hoth turned her head she could see Abasen and the twin's mother standing at the ridgeline, waving a hand. "Might want to hurry. We've got a lot of hungry Wookiees up here!"

"Never get between a Wookiee and a steak." Kore laughed.

Chuundar was already sprinting toward the pavilion.

XXX

Fin

(I have no idea why I wrote that in French.)

A/N (long and babbling, with a shot of jim beam-I edited out my notes on writing, my opinions on world events, and my theories about fanfiction. You're welcome.)

Thanks so much, Etherfanfict. Took your advice on the squaller after all!

Ether! Could not have done this without you and I appreciate so much your attention to detail and character and the times you told me you weren't sure about the character doing x or y. Invariably, you're always right. Thanks for being there on this decade and a half long journey, and never minding spoilers or me writing a scene five different ways. Thanks for always coming through with the suggestions, the critiques, and...hell, the praise. Looking forward very much to reading more of what you have to write, when the time comes. And it will.

It was totally kismet, I had started making notes on how to start up Memory again (in a great part due to Roseohseven's encouragement!) and you posted a new chapter on "Identities of a Lost Soul." For the next three years we published chapters in tandem again, trading off betas and ideas. Was a fantastic journey. I know there are so many things in Memory that echo Identities. Definitely some of those end scenes. And Mekel's language. And Davad.

Also thanks to roseohseven, of course, who kept me writing and writing all of those years between working on Memory and not-and during Memory, too. Writing with you over the years, there's so much I've picked up that's actually your style and your influence. Again, I look forward so much to reading more of your stuff. And writing more with you. Love all your OC's and your versions of the canon. Hope I've done them justice.

And, of course, dinahlance, and plutospawn, and arrow-again, whose OCs and versions of in-game characters influenced so many characters in Memory. I couldn't have written Carth, Canderous, Mission, or Dustil without y'all's versions of them talking in my head. And yeah, so I gave Millifar Lashowe Devry's life…. It kinda fits? Loved writing with you guys, too. Pluts, I swear that Myleah pov is coming.

And Prisoner, and TimRadley, and Xenxen (who gamely tried to correct my grammar and was always right about it) and Tyler (damnit I forget your stage name, Tyler!), Grimm, Snarks, and many others. Thanks for the RP that ate fandom (and Prisoner for inviting me into it) for the creation of Mekel Jin-that strange manchild who is probably an amalgamation of every terrible relationship I've ever had-and, perhaps, more than a little of myself, only a lot more licentious. And a lot more fickle.

Like Mekel, I'm not always sure which side I'm on. Like him, I'm often wrong.

Like the three Revans, I contain multitudes. So do we all. Stay safe.

(And fwiw, I can't believe how much time has passed. How all our lives have changed. Distant friends as close as close ones. Thanks for being there. Continue to be!)

Thanks also, all, reviewers, both for your praise and your honest critiques. Both are inspirational. Our fandom is not and never will be Harry Potter, or Reylo. Or even Dragon Age. But I love our little niche. Thanks for all the more recent kotor ficts I've read. CuteGallifreyan, ErgoMaria, CaligulaCsesar, and others. This list is somewhat out of date because in my efforts to finish this I stopped being able to read other ficts-or read anything, really. But I still love seeing new versions of everything.

Thanks to everyone who thinks as we do, Revan's story is what we make of it.

XXX

When Malachi D'Reev was not much older than his grandson was now, his mother took him to the roof of their home. Her private garden was sealed in a crystal dome to keep out the wind. Looking over the edge you could see the entire world below shining in clusters of jewels and light. From up high, the Coruscanti traffic moved in patterns, as ornate as a dance, or the designs on a Zabrak rug.

"Down below," his mother said, "things seem random and uncontrolled. But from up on high, we can see the true weave. The fabric of the universe. And thus, we control its destiny."

She died a year later, after failing to assassinate his father.

The old man's approach was more direct.

"Power is our responsibility. The stability of the Republic Empire is our reward. Three branches of power: a system of checks and balances. The Senate, the Council, and the Fleet." A smile curved across his thin lips, and his eyes half-closed. "How do you balance them, my son?"

"With the will of the people," said Malachi D'Reev.

His father laughed. "Precisely."

(When I wrote that in 2005? it was not meant to be the way real life worked-or, at least, only in the abstract.)

Thanks all, Kosiah / kosiahorgana at gmail

(this is the version subject to further edits. In my editing it for publication, Force knows what I've done to it. There's entire sections added and rewritten since beta. Hoping it's cleanish.)