Legacies

Chapter 12: Wraiths

Sebulga let out a low whistle when he saw the exterior of the Ebon Hawk, a gesture of appreciation that was only intensified when he got an eyeful of the interior.

"This is still a damn fine ship," he said. "Looks a bit more scuffed up than the last time I saw her, but she's aged well."

Revan gave his friend a curious look. "You've seen the Hawk before?"

"Of course, last time you came 'round Anchorhead," the Dug answered. "Hard to miss a ship this nice landing in a dust-bowl like that. I even thought about saying something to you, but I didn't. Not the time."

"No," the Jedi agreed, "it wasn't. I didn't even remember who I was back then, and I don't think Bastila would have taken too kindly to someone blowing her cover."

"Exactly," Sebulga agreed. "And seeing your HK again made me nervous. Never get into a fight you can't win, after all."

Revan smiled.

"That doesn't sound like something you'd have said in the old days."

The Dug gave a dismissive shrug, ambling towards the large table in the main room of the ship and hopping up onto a chair.

"I was younger then," he said flatly. "We all were."

"True," Revan allowed, pausing for a moment before reaching into one of the pockets of his robe and pulling out two decks of pazaak cards. "Speaking of fights you can't win," he said, "you up for a game or two, to pass the time?"

"I hope you were talking about yourself, Revan," Sebulga said with a laugh. "You still owe me money from the last time I stomped all over you on Korriban. And keep whatever shit back-up deck you were about to offer me," he finished, producing a deck of his own. "I never go anywhere without these."

"Suit yourself," Revan said with a small sigh. "Just thought I'd be generous."

"'Never trust another man's generosity when money is involved,'" Sebulga quipped, a smirk on his face. "I think that was about the only insightful thing your boy Malak ever said."

"And he stole it from me," Revan countered with a smile. "Or didn't he tell you that part?"

"Must've slipped his mind," the Dug mused, shuffling his deck dexterously with one of his feet while Revan cleared out eighteen spaces for the playing field. The players each drew four hand cards and the game began.

"So," Sebulga opened as he drew a six from the neutral deck, "how many of them are still alive, after you cleaned out Korriban?"

Revan drew a nine and put it down in front of him, glancing down at his hand cards and frowning.

"Ten, to the best of my knowledge," he said, "but I wouldn't be surprised if they've added to the ranks since then. I don't know where they are or what they're up to, though. Jerissk hasn't started talking yet."

"Jerissk?" Sebulga repeated in surprise, drawing a five and growling. "The next one's going to be a ten," he grumbled, "I can feel it. Are you talking about the same Jerissk that killed the Seer after the coup?" he asked, his tone back to normal. When Revan nodded, the Dug shook his head. "Figures. How'd you manage that?"

"Ran into him on Kashyyyk not too long ago," Revan explained, drawing a one and smiling. "We were looking for someone else, and found him instead. He offered to trade what he knows for amnesty, but he's been pretty quiet since then."

"I'm not surprised at all," Sebulga said, drawing a nine and breaking out into a grin. "I'd be tight-lipped too, if it was the only thing keeping me from a mind-wipe."

Revan didn't answer the jab, drawing from the neutral deck in silence. When the card was revealed to be a ten, the Dug cursed loudly.

"You bastard," he hissed. "Of course you'd draw that."

"Of course you'd get angry over a tie that cost you nothing," Revan countered. "Shuffle those back in and let's keep going."

Sebulga did so, and this time it was Revan's turn to draw first. His hand moved to do so, but stopped just over the deck.

"How did it happen?" he asked, and Sebulga narrowed his eyes at the cryptic question.

"How did what happen?" he pressed. "You're going to have to be more specific than that."

"The Wraiths," Revan clarified as he drew a three. "How did they fall apart?"

"Ah," Sebulga said with a bitter click of his teeth as he drew a five, "that. Are you really going to make me answer that question?"

Revan drew another three and gave his friend a level stare, remaining silent for a few beats before speaking again.

"So you were right about him, then?"

Sebulga drew a ten and played a plus-five from his hand, coming to an even twenty. When he looked back up at Revan, his eyes held both anger and melancholy.

"Of course I was right about him," the Dug answered sharply. "And I told you so more than once."

"I know."

"But you kept him around anyway."

"We needed him," Revan said as he drew an eight and played a plus-six, tying the set again. Sebulga barked out a mirthless laugh at that, the melancholy vanishing from his eyes entirely.

"No," he said firmly. "Don't even try to justify it. We had plenty of good hackers to choose from; there was no excuse for picking Voroun and you know it."

"I made the best decision I could with what I had at my disposal," Revan said sternly. "Voroun was the most efficient hacker in our entire army, and I needed someone who could keep everything I wanted secret away from prying eyes."

Sebulga's frown deepened, his grip tightening involuntarily around the three cards in his hand.

"Even though that made him the one person who controlled all of those secrets," the Dug said darkly. "He'd sold us out before your command carrier ever got blindsided by Malak. How else do you think your shields got completely deactivated right before the attack?"

Revan had no retort for that, bowing his head and sighing under the weight of such a blunt truth.

"That wasn't supposed to have happened," he said heavily. "But what's done is done. You were right, I was blind and I got all I deserved and more for ignoring you. I'm sorry."

Sebulga gathered the neutral cards back together and shuffled the deck again, drawing a ten with a sigh. Even though he'd expected to feel better after finally getting that weight off his chest, it had left nothing but more emptiness in its wake.

"I'm not here to guilt-trip you, Revan," he said calmly, the bitterness gone from his voice as his friend slowly drew a seven. "Looks like you've done plenty of that yourself already, and I came on too strong just now. We all screwed up, and Malak just waited for the right moment to take advantage of that."

"Now who's making excuses?" Revan asked with a distant smirk, which grew as Sebulga drew another ten. "I never said I was perfect, Sebulga. If it's any consolation, though, Voroun wasn't on Korriban when I cleared out the Academy."

The Dug's face was suffused with surprise as Revan drew a nine, which quickly turned into anticipation.

"So he's one of the ten, then," he said with a grim smile. "Why didn't you just tell me that first thing, and save us both a bunch of time?"

"I needed to make sure you weren't going to be in it just for revenge," Revan answered. "Now that I know, there's no need to hide anything else. I have a question for you, though," he said as he drew a ten and played a plus-three, ending the set in another tie.

"Yeah?"

"How did the Seer die?"

Sebulga paused, sighing at the sadness the memory had dredged up within him.

"After you were taken out," he began, "Malak's first act in power was to hunt down and exterminate the Wraiths. Only the Shade, the Seer and I survived the purge. But you were like a father to that kid; he just couldn't let your death go."

Revan felt a wave of remorse surge up at another consequence of his failure, but he crushed it and kept his composure.

"What happened?" he asked evenly. "What did he do?"

"He tried to attack Malak head-on by himself is what happened," the Dug answered sharply. "Only he never made it that far. The Blademaster cut him off and dueled him instead."

Sebulga watched in disbelief as a smile began to creep over Revan's face at those words, light chasing out the sadness from his eyes.

"So it was Jerissk who struck him down, then? You're sure?"

"Absolutely," the Dug insisted. "He even brought Malak proof of death enough to satisfy him."

"Did Jerissk ever mention the Seer again, after he killed him?" The Jedi pressed, almost excitedly.

"Of course not," the Dug said, confused, as he watched Revan shuffle the neutral deck. His friend's behavior was starting to worry him. "Why would he have? No point in talking about corpses."

Revan broke out into a sincere laugh at that, the smile now firmly on his face as he revealed the reason for his happiness.

"Because he never killed him, that's why."

The cards stopped in mid-shuffle, split into two piles as the Dug's hands froze.

"What?" he said in shock. "How do you know that?"

Revan leaned back in his chair, his blue eyes keen as he looked across the table at his old friend.

"You weren't there," he said, "but I decided to march with the ranks during the final big push on Sluis Van."

"You did what?" Sebulga exclaimed, his eyes wide. "Were you trying to get yourself killed? If I'd known you were pulling another one of those stupid undercover stunts—"

"You would have tried to talk me down, and wouldn't have taken no for an answer," Revan cut his friend off. "Why do you think I sent you and Zala to Ossus?"

The Dug gave a reluctant smile, admiring his commander's cleverness even as it frustrated him.

"Bastard," he grumbled, gesturing for Revan to draw as he set the deck back down. "So? What happened?"

Revan drew a one and sighed, tapping the table in irritation.

"Jerissk and the Seer took a company in the spearhead rush on a tough defensive position," the Jedi explained, "so I tagged along to make sure they didn't do anything too reckless—each of them alive was worth more than Sluis Van's shipyards, after all."

"Right," Sebulga agreed, drawing an eight. "Why did you even do those charades in the first place? Seems like a stupid idea to me."

Revan shrugged.

"You weren't the only one to think that, out of those who knew or heard the rumors that I'd occasionally act as an infantryman," the Jedi said. "But there's no better way to assess the strength of a military unit than to see how they perform when they think their commander isn't watching—and after I let word get out that Revan himself was haunting the ranks in disguise, I hardly ever had to worry about discipline again."

The Dug gave a deep chuckle, shaking his head as he did so.

"I see where you're coming from with that," he allowed, "but I still think it's crazy. So, what happened to Jerrisk and the Seer?"

"They wound up in a pitched battle against a corps of Jedi Knights, headed by Master Irian," Revan continued. "I hung back, waiting to see how it would develop before deciding whether or not to interfere." He paused long enough to draw a seven. "They took down most of the Knights, at the cost of the four soldiers they had backing them up. In the end it was the two of them against Irian and a Knight, and Jerissk took care of the Knight."

Sebulga drew another eight and played the plus-four side of a mixed card, ending his part of the set.

"And then the Seer took down Irian, right?" he finished. "I remember hearing about that much, at least."

"Yes, he did," Revan said as he drew a ten and played a plus-two, tying the set yet again. "But not before he saved Jerissk's life. Irian had moved in to stab the Blademaster in the back, and the Seer barely blocked the strike."

"That's strange," the Dug said deliberately as he shuffled the neutral deck. "I don't buy for a second that a Jedi as old as Irian was could have struck hard enough to throw the Seer off-balance, or fast enough to catch Jerissk off-guard."

Revan nodded, the intentness of his look intensifying.

"I thought so, too," he said, "so I started looking for something that felt off, something that might have been tampering with the Force. And when I found the source of the disturbance, I left those two in their own power and went after it."

"Let me guess," Sebulga interjected again, his tone dry. "That was the first time you set your eyes on the lovely Bastila Shan and her godforsaken Battle Meditation."

Revan nodded again, his lips curling into a satisfied smile.

"She had no idea who I was," the Jedi said, his voice wistful. "I'd taken my mask off, and the slight alterations I made to my appearance with the Force removed all traces of the Dark Side's influence from my body. It was unfortunate that I had to kill seven Jedi to get to her, though; if she hadn't seen that, it might have been possible to sway her to the Dark Side back then."

"That's charming, really," the Dug quipped, "but what the hell does it have to do with Jerissk and the Seer?"

"As soon as I broke Bastila's Battle Meditation, those two finished off Irian with ease. Jerissk never forgot the debt he owed to the Seer, though; his pride made sure of that."

Sebulga's orange eyes brightened with the glow of understanding, and he smiled.

"So you think Jerissk didn't kill the Seer, and let him go to settle up their debt?"

"I do," Revan answered with a nod. "And we'll know the truth from Jerrisk in a few hours, once we're back on Dantooine."

"And you really think he'll tell you something that sensitive?"

Revan said nothing in answer, choosing to pose a question instead.

"What did Jerissk bring back as the proof of death?"

Sebulga furrowed his brow, diving back into his memories.

"Just the Seer's tattered blindfold," the Dug answered, his voice becoming softer with each word as it trailed off in the wake of understanding. "He said that was all he could… recover…" Sebulga's voice rose again sharply as the final pieces of an old mystery fell into place. "That son of a bitch!"

Revan could no longer contain his smile to just that, and a few moments later the friends' laughter rang through the hull of the Ebon Hawk.

Selvi had been meditating in the room she shared with Arina, trying to catch some trace whisper of the malicious Force energy she'd felt earlier, when a powerful jolt snapped her clean out of the trance and back, gasping, into the present. There was no missing a spike of killing intent that strong, especially not when the signature accompanying it was so painfully familiar. The Miraluka had assumed that her friend hadn't been entirely straight with her earlier when she'd said she was going to go 'train'. But for Arina to smile and say that everything was all right, and then turn around and unleash so much hatred and anger? That was a lie that cut deep. Not only did Selvi have precious few friends left, but now it seemed like the one she loved the most didn't trust her.

Rising numbly to her feet, the Miraluka held her face in her hands for a moment, took a deep breath and sighed it all out in one slow, measured exhalation.

It was times like this that she envied those who could cry.

Selvi walked to the door, opened it and half-shuffled into the hall, her feet feeling like lead. The shock of Dark Side energy she'd just felt coming from Arina had stabbed clean through whatever lingering optimism she'd held onto following the Sith devastation of Dantooine. Selvi let her feet take her ploddingly where they would, too drained to bother imposing control over them. She vaguely felt Arina's force signature escape from her range of sensing in a frightening burst of speed, but the Miraluka didn't give a second's thought to pursuing. She was surprised to see that no one else seemed to be reacting to the proximity of such an obviously Dark Side haze, though—could they just not feel it, or were the energies of the Dark Side confusing and misdirecting those around them in order to stay hidden, as was their way?

And if the Dark Side was really keeping Arina hidden from all but those who were trying to find her, was there anyone else who might have been looking?

Selvi stopped in her tracks at the obviousness of the answer as it came to her, turning and beginning to walk back the other way down the hallway. The desire for hope renewed was enough to put life back into her steps, and the Miraluka was walking at her normal clip by the time she turned the corner and almost collided with the person she'd been looking for.

"My apologies, Master Shan," Selvi said quietly as she took a step backward. "I was just—"

"On your way to see me, I know," Bastila finished calmly. "Shall we go somewhere a little more private?"

Selvi nodded mutely and followed in Bastila's wake as the older Jedi led on in silence; the Miraluka could see by the swirling patterns of the Force around her that Arina's teacher was just as disturbed as she was— Bastila merely did a better job of hiding it. It wasn't long before they had reached a secluded courtyard, one dotted with growing saplings that had been planted in the new soil to both commemorate the rebuilding of the Enclave and to remember those who had died during Malak's bombardment. Selvi knew this place well.

Bastila took a seat on a nearby bench and the Miraluka joined her, silence settling in between them until Selvi could keep hers no longer.

"I don't want to lose her."

"I don't either."

Selvi turned to face Bastila, her expression serious.

"There's something corrupting her," she said. Bastila sighed.

"A confused sense of justice and a broken heart would test anyone's limits," the Knight said, "even the most experienced Jedi. She just needs time to put things into perspective."

"No, Master," Selvi pressed, "I mean something is actually corrupting her. An outside influence, acting through the Force."

Bastila straightened up at that, a worried look coming into her eyes as she considered the Miraluka's words.

"Are you sure about that?" she asked, clearly hoping it was only a theory. "I didn't feel anything influencing her, the last time we spoke."

"You wouldn't have," Selvi replied resolutely. Bastila gave her a look as her pride flared slightly, and the padawan scrambled to cover her gaffe.

"I meant that it was just this morning when I felt something off," she clarified, "right before that— other disturbance."

Bastila was quiet at that, her mind racing to make sense of the worrying dilemma. Something that could reach Arina and remain completely hidden would have to be quite powerful in the Dark Side; it was only thanks to her padawan's lack of control that she'd even sensed anything was amiss earlier.

"Do you have any idea what might be influencing her?" she asked, but the Miraluka could only shake her head.

"All I could feel were a few trace whispers of the Force around where she'd been given a vision," Selvi said, her voice laced with regret. "Nothing solid enough to connect to. I just know that it felt incredibly tainted. That's all."

Bastila sighed again, feeling weight pressing down over her shoulders. All of the fears Revan had been able to ward off so easily were creeping back, and it seemed that the reassurances keeping them at bay were growing weaker by the minute.

"I'll talk to Arina as soon as she comes back," she said at last, already feeling the vague pull of her padawan's presence at the edge of her senses. "I'm sure she'll—"

"No," Selvi cut her off, her voice unexpectedly hard. "She lied to me; to my face. And if she can lie to me, she can lie to you. She won't say anything unless she wants to, Master."

Bastila could hear the undercurrent of hurt running through the Miraluka's voice, and a sudden melancholy pierced her. It felt like just yesterday that they'd won a hard-fought piece from Malak; now everything was sliding back into chaos again, and it felt completely out of her control.

"I miss my brother so much," Selvi said lowly, her façade cracking to allow her sadness to flow to the surface. "He'd know what to do."

"Yes," Bastila said quietly, "he would."

The two women sat once more in silence, which was only broken by the strong pull of Arina's presence reemerging in force. Selvi turned to face her elder, all the hard lines that had cut across her face earlier now softened under the weight of frustration and desperation.

"Does every Jedi have to fall at least once, on the way to understanding?" she asked earnestly. "Isn't there some way to find peace without trudging through the Dark Side first?"

Bastila rose slowly and looked down at Selvi, giving the padawan a sad smile.

"I know this isn't what you want to hear," she said, "but that's a question that doesn't have an easy answer. In a perfect world, reading the texts left behind by the Jedi of old would be enough to know what the 'right' thing to do is. But this world isn't perfect; it's only as good as we can struggle to make it."

"So she's doomed, then?" the Miraluka pressed gloomily, and Bastila shook her head.

"Far from it," she answered. "I only meant that people like Arina—and myself, for that matter—have to overcome the darkness within ourselves, on our own terms, before understanding will truly be open to us. As long as I can be of help to Arina, I will; I promise you that."

Selvi smiled at last, nodding her head slowly in acceptance.

"I wouldn't ask you for anything more than that, Master," she said. "Thank you."

Bastila was a few steps away when she stopped and turned her head back over her shoulder.

"And if I can't reach her, in the end," she said, "I know you will."

Selvi straightened herself and gave a solemn nod. Bastila returned the gesture before walking off, leaving the Miraluka alone in her thoughts. Silvas had told her more than once that having faith in an outcome was the most important step on the way to achieving it—she just hoped that he'd been right, and that Arina wasn't too far-gone already.

Arina decided to sleep away her frustration, hoping that it might mean another chance to speak with Rhion.

She wasn't disappointed.

"I was so close to fighting him," the padawan seethed as she sat on the old bed next to the Echani; the same bed she'd slept in what felt like a lifetime ago on Nar Shaddaa. "I could see him, and I know he had to feel me standing there. He's still crippled—I could have killed him, if that old Jedi hadn't gotten in the way."

"Don't let it get to you," Rhion said gently, running one of his hands through her hair. The sensation was so comforting it hurt. "You should always know what your limits are, Arina. Rushing into a battle you can't win is foolish. Trust the Force, and wait for the right moment to reveal itself. Strike then, and you'll have your victory."

"You sound like Bastila," the padawan shot back, her voice simmering with anger at her own inadequacy. "I don't want to wait any longer than I already have; why can't anyone get that? If I was powerful enough, I could just force my way past Jolee, challenge Jerissk to a duel and kill him! You say you're still my teacher, Rhion, so teach me. How can I become that powerful?"

The Echani looked over at his former pupil and smiled. There was something in the gesture, in his eyes that sent a shiver down Arina's spine, but she ignored it.

"It would take many years of continual, dedicated studying," Rhion answered at last, "under the Jedi, at least. There is a way to achieve that power faster, but the method is not one a Jedi would teach you."

Arina was quiet for all of three seconds.

"I'm listening," she said, her green eyes stern and unblinking. Rhion leaned back, letting his eyes wander up to the ceiling as he spoke.

"There are many places in the galaxy that are naturally strong in the Force," the Echani began. "Several of these places are simply nexuses of energy; they have no alignment to a particular side of the Force. Others, however, have been molded by outside influences to embody a particular side of the Force.

"And of the places that the Sith have turned into natural monuments to the power of the Dark Side of the Force," Rhion finished, looking over at Arina once more, "none are more powerful, or more feared, than the fourth moon of Yavin. If you want power, you'll find it there."

Arina felt her throat go dry, but swallowed past her hesitation. If it would take following the path of the Dark Side to get what she wanted, then so be it. She knew she would be able to control the power it stood to give her, rather than letting herself get warped by it.

"And once I got there," she asked, "where would I go? Yavin IV is a jungle moon; where would the Sith have hidden their secrets?"

Rhion smiled again, but this time Arina felt no chill.

"What, did the Jedi not tell you its history?" he asked, earning only a shake of the head in return. "Why am I not surprised," the Echani replied. "Yavin IV is the site of Exar Kun's Sith temple, Arina," Rhion continued. "The Dark Side is alive within its halls, and within the holocrons the Sith hid there in secret before the Jedi bombed the surface of the moon."

Arina nodded resolutely, understanding now where she had to go—and what she had to do. The only question now was how to go about leaving Dantooine undetected, but that was a problem she was too tired to think about solving at the moment.

Rhion winced and closed his eyes tightly for a moment, and Arina knew that meant their time was almost up once again. Leaning forward, she kissed him with equal measures of gratitude and longing before she stood up and sighed, relaxing as she let the vision dissolve around her.

The Echani saw the room begin to waver and fade, giving his former pupil one last look in parting before he let his concentration snap completely.

The smell of the old stone and rot that filled his nostrils a moment later was just as jarring as always.

"Keep doing that this often," a level, slightly edged voice spoke up from the Echani's left, "and it'll kill you."

"Keep your concern to yourself," Rhion snapped at the other person in the chamber with him, his yellow eyes narrowed in anger. "Why didn't you sustain me? I was almost finished!"

"No," the Miraluka corrected him, his eyebrows furrowing, "you were finished. The girl is going to find her way here; that much was obvious. What else would you have done?"

"Told her the coordinates for how to get here, you idiot," Rhion answered sharply. "Do you think the Masters on Dantooine won't notice someone they're already keeping an eye on looking up the coordinates for a place this strong in the Dark Side?"

"I wasn't about to risk myself for something that trivial," the Miraluka replied evenly. "Just think of it as another test, then. If she makes it here in one piece, she passes. If she fails, she wasn't worth the trouble to begin with."

Rhion snarled, rising out of his chair and glaring at the Miraluka as he stalked over to the meditation room's sole exit door.

"Follow my orders next time, Silvas," the Echani said in parting, "or I'll feed you to Nihilus."

The Miraluka waited for a few moments after Rhion had left before letting out his breath in a long sigh, wondering how he'd been led to this place. He'd gone from being one of Lord Revan's most trusted soldiers to taking orders from a miserable little piece of shit like Rhion, losing almost everything he held dear in the process.

And the dream had begun to plague his nights again; the dream Silvas thought he'd left behind when he joined Revan all those years ago. The dream of the future.

The dream of a world laid barren, stripped of all life.

Why had it returned to him now, of all times, after leaving him in peace for so long?

Silvas shoved the troubling thoughts out of his mind and sighed again, kneeling down in the middle of the room and beginning to meditate. For now, he had a much more pressing question to answer than the one posed by his ominous nightmare:

What was he going to do if the Jedi decided to come after their misguided padawan, forcing his hand before he was ready? How would he get out of that bind alive?

"What would you suggest, General?" Silvas asked to the empty room, before laughing bitterly and shaking his head.

Speaking to the dead was pointless, after all.

...

...

A/N: Holy shit, he actually updated! Yes, after a hiatus of more than a year (mortifying, I know; I have no excuse), the next chapter of Legacies is posted! I don't expect that many of you who were reading this a year ago have stuck around... but to those who have, you have my deepest gratitude. I can't promise that updates will resume at a regular pace, since my life is pretty crazy right now, but I can at least say that we're finally moving into the final arc of the story, more or less... and when there's a more exciting plot to write, the desire to write is never far behind. At the very least, I can say it won't take me another year.

It feels great to dive back into this story again after so long, though, and I'm looking forward to what's to come. Any reviews you might leave would be greatly appreciated, even if they're just telling me I suck for taking so long to update this story. Those would be wholly deserved, let's be honest.

Thanks must also be given, as per usual, to beta extraordinaire JasoTheArtisan, who did yet another phenomenal editing job here. He is a wizard, that guy.

Thank you all for reading, and I'll see you next time!

- Jazz