KOTOR 1 - Betrayals: Rebecoming

"There's something behind here," Trask Ulgo said.

Trask and Avner had battled their way through the besieged Endar Spire, fighting what seemed like endless boarders, in a desperate attempt to rejoin their Republic allies and help defend Bastila Shan, the Jedi Knight who was the primary target of the Sith attack.

They had finally reached the bridge, only to find it occupied by Sith. Assuming that Bastila and any surviving Republic forces had retreated to the Endar Spire's escape pods, Avner and Trask had left the bridge in that same direction. Now, though, Trask had detected a new enemy behind a closed door ahead.

As Trask stepped forward, the door automatically opened, revealing the fearsome adversary beyond. He stood alone, but the evil power emnating from him clearly marked him as the most dangerous opponent they had yet faced. As they watched, he drew a long lightsaber hilt from his belt and ignited it, the two red blades adding a menacing glow to the hallway's stark emergency lighting. The Sith's eyes scanned past Trask and locked on Avner.

Avner's world froze.

In his life before joining this mission, Avner had never encountered a Sith. He'd spent most of his time far from civilization, on the galactic rim, scouting planets and civilizations unknown to the Republic and the Core. And since being recruited by the Republic for this mission, he had not been in a single battle until this one.

Yet, somehow, this Sith was familiar. And it seemed that he was somehow familiar to the Sith. The man's eyes squinted as he focused on Avner, as if trying to recognize a faint scent, familar but unexpected in this setting. And, even more surprising, Avner felt the same about the Sith. Although he could not recall this man, Avner was certain he knew him. More than certain. He sensed it. What did that mean?

Avner's lips moved almost involuntarily, as if trying of their own accord to identify the Sith. "B... Ban... Br... Brando...". That wasn't quite right, but it was close. How could Avner know this Sith?

Trask broke the spell. "Damn, another Dark Jedi. I'll try to hold him off, you get to the escape pods. Go!" Trask raced forward, the door closing behind him. Avner rushed to the door, but found it sealed shut. As he stepped back, searching for a way to open the door, a voice came from his personal communicator.

"This is Carth Onasi on your personal communicator. I'm tracking your position through the Endar Spire's life support systems. Bastila's escape pod is away - you're the last surviving crew member of the Endar Spire! I can't wait for you much longer: you have to get to the escape pods!"

Carth. Avner recalled Trask mentioning him. He was apparently a combat veteran from Telos. But ... Trask hadn't mentioned Telos. How did Avner know about Carth's origins? In any case, if the Endar Spire's sensors said that Avner was the only surviving crew member, that meant Trask was dead. No surprise, the fool had gone up against Malak's apprentice alone. Malak? Apprentice? Had Avner taken a blow to the head, as Trask had insinuated earlier?

Pushing intrusive thoughts aside, Avner looked at his surroundings. One passage led to the sealed door that the Sith was sure to be coming through soon. Another led back to the bridge. There was only one passageway left. Avner briefly wondered why everything on the ship he had been serving on for some time seemed unfamiliar, then took off at a run down the only passage that seemed likely to lead to the escape pods.

Avner battled past more Sith, then suddenly stopped in the middle of corridor. Why had Trask attacked the Dark Jedi with the red lightsaber alone? Carth had told Avner that Bastila's escape pod was away, but Trask hadn't known that at the time. If their main priority was to protect Bastila and ensure her escape, wouldn't the sensible thing to do have been for Trask and Avner to fight the Dark Jedi together? Avner's mind played back the events since he'd awakened in his room. Trask had told him the name of the ship they were on. How could Avner have been serving on this ship without even knowing its name? Trask had told him who Bastila was, and that guaranteeing her safety in the event of an enemy attack was the crew's primary duty. If Bastila was so important, and this duty was so critical, why hadn't Avner known about it before?

Suddenly dizzy, Avner leaned against the corridor wall. Nothing made sense. Seeing the Dark Jedi had changed something in Avner's mind. It was as if he was seeing dual realities. He was a scout. But he couldn't remember a single place he'd actually scouted. Except Lehon. Why had he and Malak been on Lehon? Malak? That was the name that had occurred to him when he'd seen the Dark Jedi, except the Dark Jedi hadn't been Malak. Malak was the Dark Jedi's master. Why would Avner have been scouting a planet with a Sith Master? Trask had said that Trask and Avner were bunkmates but had never met before because they worked opposite shifts? What kind of nonsense was that? That's not how life on a starship worked! Even if they somehow each worked opposite half-day shifts, had they not boarded together? Passed each other coming and going? Why had Trask been so desperate to defend Bastila? If she were truly a Jedi, she didn't need people like Trask and Avner to defend her. And if she were one of the many weak Jedi that had infected the Order, marginally Force-sensitive, powerless, with no vision, then she deserved to die. He would happily kill her himself-

What?

Realizing he was standing motionless in the corridor, an easy target for any Sith that happened upon him, Avner forced himself back into motion. Whatever was happening to him, he'd have to sort it out later. Opening the next door, he found himself facing a roomful of Sith. Avner drew his vibroblade and, moving with an almost unnatural grace, slaughtered them one-by-one, dodging blaster bolts and parrying strikes with uncanny ease. How natural the weapon felt in his hand. Being back in combat was refreshing, even against such pitiful foes as these. The vibroblade was no lightsaber, to be sure, but there was something satisfying about the way it rended flesh and bone. Not as satisfying as severing Malak's jaw had been, but-

This inexplicable thought was interruped by Carth Onasi's voice on the communicator: "Be careful! There's a whole squad of Sith Troopers on the other side of that door! You need to find some way to thin their numbers. You could reprogram the damaged assault droid to help you. Or you could slice into the terminal and use the Endar Spire's security systems against the Sith."

"Or I could do both, moron," Avner thought to himself. Focusing on a task helped him set aside whatever was affecting his mind. First, he examined the assault droid. It had taken some damage in the attack, but nothing he couldn't reroute around. The droid was quickly repaired and, following its new programming, positioned itself by the door, ready to attack the Sith. Avner then gave his attention to the computer console. Activating the cameras in the adjacent room, he noticed that several of the Sith were standing beside a power conduit. Avner's fingers flew over the console's controls, bypassing safety measures and redistributing power. With a triumphant final keypress, the conduit exploded. A fraction of a second later, the door slid open, smoke billowing through it. The assault droid, undaunted by the low visiblity, strode forward and quickly dispatched the few remaining Sith. Avner smiled with satisfation. This had been a good use of his skills as a Scout. Not as satisfying as when he'd applied the final touches on the hunter-killer droid's assassination protocols-.

Assassination protocols? Struck by another wave of dizziness, Avner leaned against the computer terminal. That made no sense, yet he could not escape the image of a rust-colored droid, and for some reason, the word "meatbag" kept echoing in his mind. What kind of scout had he been? If he'd created assassination protocols for this mysterious droid, why couldn't he remember any details? What had the droid's name been? Who had it been created to assassinate? This wasn't the sort of thing easily forgotten. So why couldn't he remember?

Still dizzy, Avner glanced up and saw that the Endar Spire's ventilation systems had cleared the room ahead. He tried to run forward, almost fell, and steadied himself against the door frame. Again he tried to run, and was forced to steady himself against a chair in the room. Struck by a wave of nausea, he retched on the corpse of one of the fallen Sith.

"More than you deserve," Avner heard himself say. "If you'd failed this miserably in my service, you'd have received far worse."

Where had that come from? And yet ... Avner couldn't bring himself to regret the words. They felt powerful. They felt right. Gathering himself, he made it the rest of the way across the room. The door opened, revealing Carth Onasi standing by a bank of escape pods.

"You made it just in time! There's only one escape pod left. Come on, we can hide out on the planet below!"

Avner stumbled into the pod, followed closely by Carth. The last thing Avner saw before slipping into unconsciousness was the Endar Spire, growing smaller in the distance and then exploding. His last thought was that he wasn't Avner at all. He was...

A woman with a yellow lightsaber was attacking a Dark Jedi. The woman was dark-haired and young, perhaps in her early twenties. Her movements were predictible, the bland fruit of unremarkable training imposed on countless students for countless years. She had mastered the lightsaber combat forms, and was executing them almost flawlessly. Which meant that anyone with the slightest bit of creativity could anticipate her next moves. Zhar's work, probably. He'd always been effective at stamping out any hint of individuality. And yet ... that was new. As the Dark Jedi pressed the woman, her anger rose, and with it her strength. No matter how well trained this one was, no matter how subservient she was when walking the halls of the Jedi Enclave, there was fire in this one that the Jedi had not yet managed to extinguish. The woman parried the Dark Jedi's attack and struck him down with admirable ferocity. Lips peeled back, eyes blazing, she turned and focused her attention on-

Darth Revan opened his eyes.

Where was he? What was happening? The last thing he remembered was being on his flagship, and being struck by an explosion.

No, that wasn't true. He remembered being on another ship. Some fool ensign had called him "Avner", and Revan hadn't known any better. He'd been fighting Sith. His own Sith. Why?

Revan sat up and stood to his feet. He expected to find himself unsteady. Instead, his balance was perfect. He felt good, strong. He had the strangest sense that he'd been away for some time, but was now back. Away from what? Away from himself was the only answer that came, although he could not explain it.

Revan looked down. He was wearing unremarkable gear that appeared to be second-hand Republic leftovers. Where were his robes? Where was his mask? Revan looked at his surroundings. This wasn't a starship. He was in a dingy apartment of some sort. What planet was he on? How did he get here?

"Good to see you up, instead of thrashing around in your sleep. You must have been having one hell of a nightmare. I was wondering if you were ever going to wake up."

For the first time, Revan realized he wasn't alone. The speaker was a human male who appeared to be in his late thirties, about the same age as Revan. He seemed familiar. Carth. Carth Onasi. He had been with Revan on the other ship, along with the ensign.

"I'm Carth, one of the Republic soldiers from the Endar Spire. I was with you on the escape pod, do you remember?"

That's right. Things were becoming more clear. The other ship had been called the Endar Spire. Revan had fought his way through his own Sith with that virtually useless ensign, who had eventually gotten himself killed. Revan had then had to make it alone to the escape pod where this Carth had been waiting. But something had happened along the way, something significant. What had it been?

"Where am I?" Revan said. "How did I get here?"

"You took a serious blow to the head. You've been in and out of consciousness for a couple of days now, so I imagine you're pretty confused about things. Try not to worry. We're safe ... at least for the moment. We're in an abandoned apartment on the planet of Taris. You were banged up pretty bad when our escape pod crashed, but luckily I wasn't seriously hurt. I was able to drag you away from our crash site in all the confusion, and I stumbled on this abandoned apartment. By the time the Sith arrived on the scene we were long gone."

Carth Onasi. That's right, the Republic officer from Telos. Revan had never met Onasi before, but he stayed informed about significant people in the Republic military. Onasi was an up-and-comer, expected by some to eventually make Admiral. If he survived that long. Revan looked carefully at Onasi, and was unimpressed. He supposed even Admiral wasn't a terribly high bar these days. After all, Revan had already taken most of the Republic's best for himself. Malak had bombarded Onasi's home planet of Telos against Revan's orders. Not that Revan had any special love for the planet, but it would have been more strategic to conquer it and use it as an asset. But Onasi was still droning on.

"Taris is under Sith control. Their fleet is orbiting the planet, they've declared martial law, and they've imposed a planet-wide quarantine. But I've been in worse spots. I saw on your service record that you understand a remarkable number of alien languages. That's pretty rare in a raw recruit, but it should come in handy while we're stranded on a foreign world."

Service record? What service record? The only service Revan remembered was waking up on the Endar Spire and fighting through to the escape pods. Understanding languages? Did this idiot not realize that was done via the Force? Who did he think he was talking to? Did he also belive in this "Avner" fantasy? And if so, why? And still Onasi was talking...

"There's no way the Republic will be able to get anyone through the Sith blockade to help us. If we're going to find Bastila and get off this planet we can't rely on anyone but ourselves."

Bastila. Onasi had mentioned her on the Endar Spire, and that ensign, Flask Ulgar or whatever his name had been, was obsessed with her. She had apparently been their Jedi escort, although both had seemed more concerned with protecting her than benefiting from her abilities. She must be an exceptionally weak Jedi. Still, something about Bastila nagged at Revan's memory. Perhaps Onasi could at least provide a little information.

"Bastila? She's the one from the Endar Spire, right?"

"That smack to your head did more damage than I thought," Onasi said. "Bastila's a Jedi. She was with the strike team that killed Darth Revan. Malak's Sith master."

Yes. Bastila was the dark-haired woman from Revan's flagship. Revan recalled her drive, her confidence. Even face-to-face with him in a fight she could not hope to win, Bastila had not retreated, had not faltered. Casting aside the feeble shroud of the Jedi, she had faced him with her full self. It wouldn't have mattered in the end, but it had been impressive nonetheless. But what did Onasi mean by "killed Darth Revan". Revan was standing here, a bit disoriented, but otherwise perfectly fine. What had he missed? Whatever had happened on the Endar Spire had something to do with it, but Revan couldn't recall what that had been. Onasi was continuing. Maybe he'd accidentally say something else useful.

"Bastila is the key to the whole Republic war effort. The Sith must have found out she was on the Endar Spire and set an ambush for us in this system. I believe Bastila was on one of the escape pods that crashed down here on Taris. For the sake of the Republic war effort, we have to try and find her."

This still didn't quite fit. There was something else about Bastila, something Revan couldn't quite place. Why was this one young Jedi the key to the Republic's war effort? Onasi seemed to know more than he should for his meager rank, as benefitted a boot-licking upstart. Maybe he knew. The simplest thing was to ask.

"How can one person, even a Jedi, be so important?"

"Bastila is no ordinary Jedi," Onasi said. "She has a rare gift the Jedi call Battle Meditation. Bastila's power can influence entire armies. Through the Force, Bastila can inspire her allies with confidence and make her enemies lose their will to fight. Often, that's all it takes to flip the balance in a battle."

There it was. Bastila was not only the Jedi from his flagship, but also the Jedi prodigy that Revan now recalled hearing rumors of from before that attack. Battle Meditation was indeed a rare gift, and the Jedi were fortunate to have identified it in Bastila. This explained why they were so protective of her. An older, more seasoned Jedi would not have needed this level of assistance. Bastila would not yet have attained that level of independence, at least in the Jedi's eyes. Revan knew better, but the Jedi hadn't seen Bastila on Revan's flagship, and if they had they would have discouraged her behavior. Revan had best snuff her out quickly, before she became a real problem. It sounded as if she were exposed and helpless. If Revan could convince Onasi to leave the situation alone, maybe it would solve itself.

"If Bastila's a Jedi, she can probably look out for herself," Revan said.

"Bastila's going to need our help," Onasi replied. "Many of Darth Malak's followers can use the Dark Side of the Force, and the Sith have already killed more than their share of the Jedi in this war. Nobody will be looking for a couple of common soldiers like us. And if we're careful we can move about the planet without attracting notice, a luxury Bastila won't have. She's going to have half the Sith fleet looking for her. They know how important she is to the war effort. The whole planet is under quarantine. No ships can land or take off. So if Bastila's going to escape Taris, she's going to need our help. And we'll probably need hers."

It was good to hear that the Sith under Malak were continuing Revan's plans. Revan could only imagine that they were doing so clumsily. Malak was a blunt weapon with none of Revan's insight or nuance. Surik would have been far superior in a leadership role, but Revan had been obligated to send Surik to Wild Space for ... things that had needed to be done. What were they again? No matter, there would be time for that later. Soon Revan would rejoin his forces and retake command. He contemplated killing Onasi now, but decided to press him for more information first.

"How do you even know Bastila's still alive?" Revan asked.

"I don't. But Bastila's young, and she has a powerful command of the Force. We survived the crash landing, so I'm willing to bet that she may have too. Besides, what's the alternative? I mean, if she's dead, then no one can stop Malak and his Sith forces from wiping out the Republic. And I'd rather operate on the assumption that she survived."

That was good news. Revan had known the Republic was nearing collapse, but hearing Onasi confirm it was useful information. Revan needed only to ensure that Bastila either was already dead, or killed before she could leave Taris, and he could quickly move this conflict to a conclusion. Then he could turn his attention to the real foe. At the moment, he couldn't quite place who that was, but the image of a red-skinned, tentacled face floated in his mind. And a burning desire for vengeance. He suppressed that reaction. There was more to be done here. He needed to know where to direct his forces after he killed Onasi and revealed himself.

"Any idea where we should start looking for Bastila?"

"While you were out I did some scouting around. There are reports of a couple of escape pods crashing down into the Undercity. That's probably a good place to start."

That wasn't very specific, but it was more than nothing and he seemed to be reaching the limits of Onasi's knowledge. Something still nagged at Revan, though. Something that had happened on the Endar Spire. Something related to Malak. He decided to press Onasi a bit more. If that proved unfruitful, he'd just have to deal with it later.

"What do you know about Malak and the Sith?"

"Everything I know about Malak is pretty much common knowledge. He escaped the trap that killed Darth Revan, his Sith master."

Trap? Things began falling into place quickly for Revan. Yes, it had been a trap, in fact two of them. And neither had been the one Onasi seemed to believe. Revan had been aware of the Jedi Strike Team, although he hadn't been aware that their precious Bastila was part of it. He'd lured the Jedi onto his flagship, where he could defeat them personally. Yes, he'd lost a few of his Sith in the process, but they were fungible, easily replaced. And then the explosion. Revan now remembered the force of it, throwing him across the bridge. The Jedi hadn't been responsible for that. Malak must have realized that Revan's focus was on the Jedi, and used that moment to betray him. Malak, whose jaw Revan had been obligated to sever when Malak had disputed which of them should be in command. Malak, who had obliterated Telos against Revan's orders. Malak had been too fearful to face Revan directly, and had struck from afar. Rage began to build within Revan, as he realized what must have happened. The disorientation and memory gaps must be the result of injuries sustained during the explosion. Bastila was still alive. In the aftermath of Malak's attack, she must have taken Revan's unconscious body from his flagship. What accolades she must have received! Already the Jedi's shining new gem, now she had returned with the Dark Lord himself! The Endar Spire must then have been Revan's prison ship, that ensign, Ulgar or whatever it was, his jailer. The most likely series of events was that the Jedi had been planning to interrogate Revan, but he awakened unexpectedly during the Sith attack. No wonder Ulgar was so insistent on getting Revan to Bastila! He must have known he had no hope of subduing Darth Revan alone, and he was desperate for Jedi help. Malak would pay for this! But Onasi was still babbling.

"With Revan's death, Malak became the new Dark Lord. It's obvious that Malak's a ruthless tyrant who'll crush anyone that stands in his way ... just like Revan was."

No, you fool. Your precious Republic is not the goal, and I care nothing for ruling it. There is a greater foe, and your little fiefdom is merely a tool. I will make it weak enough to invite attack, but strong enough to not immediately fall. Then when it is attacked by ... that part wouldn't quite come yet, but eventually it would. The memories were coming back. When it is attacked, Surik will lead the mercenary force he is assembling from Wild Space in an attack from behind. You think you understand what is at stake, but you know nothing. Your Republic is just a decoy! Finishing this without Malak will be more difficult, but not impossible. Yet still Onasi rattled on.

"Experience has shown that the Sith won't stop until the Republic lies in ruins. Malak and his Sith don't respect anything except raw, brutal power."

Enough of this. Time to show Onasi a glimpse of power. The last he would ever see. Darth Revan reached out in the Force, clamping down on Onasi's throat, visualizing it closing, seeing Onasi's face turn red, then purple, his eyes bulging as he struggled futilely to draw breath. Revan would walk to him and stare into his dying eyes. Then he would deal with the rest of this mess himself.

Onasi cleared his thoat and continued talking: "It's hard to imagine how someone who used to be a Jedi could become such a monster!"

An unfamiliar feeling swept over Revan, and he was startled to realized that it was panic. He hadn't felt fear even face-to-face with the True Sith Emperor. True Sith Emperor? That was a new memory, but he didn't have time to explore it now. Why was Onasi still breathing? Was the Force lost to Revan? Frightened and uncertain, he tried to keep Onasi talking. That, at least, seemed easy enough to do.

"A Jedi? What do you mean?" It was the first question that came to Revan's mind, and fortunately Onasi was only too happy to answer at length.

"Malak and Revan were once both part of the Jedi Order, but they were young and headstrong. And against the wishes of the Council they went to battle the Mandalorians on the Outer Rim."

Yes I did. Because I saw there was more at play. And the Jedi Council knew this as well, but instead of acting they waited. On their own they would wasted any chance of victory. Perhaps the Republic would have survived against the Mandalorians, but it would have been left far too weak to defend itself against the impending True Sith attack, and the Jedi Council would have had no plan, no hope. I saved your little Republic. Revan was a little calmer now. He had stalled the True Sith invasion. With a little help from Malak and a lot from Surik, he had defeated the Mandalorians. Even if the Force were lost to him, he was not incapable. But was it, truly? Onasi was still speaking, making Revan regret all the more not being able to shut him up.

"Something happened out there. Something corrupted them and drew them over to the Dark Side. Or maybe there was something rotten inside them all along, I don't know."

I walk where you fear to tread. I refuse to lose because of ancient faulty dogma. Call it rotten if you like, but regardless of whatever has happened to me, I will rise again. His initial emotional reaction now past, Revan's analytical skills were processing the problem at hand. Onasi had reacted to Revan's attempt to choke him, just very mildly. That meant that Revan's connection to the Force had not been completely severed, as Surik's had been. There were ways to disconnect someone from the Force, ways the Jedi Council might be aware of, even if they wouldn't admit it. For a moment, Revan had feared they had performed such a ritual on him, but that seemed to not be the case. If this were instead the result of his injuries, then it might simply take time to heal. How long, though? Hours? Days? Weeks? Months? Onsasi droned on, enjoying the sound of his own voice.

"They formed an army of ex-Republic soldiers and Jedi who had fallen to the Dark Side, with Revan at their head... until Revan was killed by Bastila's Jedi Strike Team. But even that didn't slow the Sith down. Malak just stepped in and assumed Revan's role. He took control of the Sith armada and resumed the bloody conquest of the Outer Worlds."

And that was Revan's immediate problem. If Malak didn't already know that Revan was still alive, it would't take him long to learn it. Because what had happened on the Endar Spire was that Revan and Ulgar had encountered Darth Bandon, Malak's apprentice. Had Malak already known Revan was present? Had Bandon been sent to kill Revan? Retrive him so that Malak could kill him personally? Either way, Revan was currently in no state to face even someone as limited as Bandon, much less Malak. And without his powers, he could not successfully reassume command of his Sith soldiers to mount a counteroffensive against Malak. He needed time. Time to heal, time to plan. And with his current inabilities, he needed help. And that meant ... oh no. He could hardly conceive of it. And yet, there was no other answer. As of now, Revan had only one ally, and he was obligated to make use of him. As distasteful as it was, Carth Onasi must continue to survive, if only for a little longer. So with no other options, Revan would have to play along.

"Don't worry, we'll find a way to stop the Sith," Revan said, with great effort.

"I hope you're right. But the Republic hasn't been able to stop them so far, even with the support of the Jedi Council. I think Bastila might be the galaxy's last hope."

And she might be mine, Revan thought. Being captured by Malak's Sith before his abilities returned would likely be fatal for Revan. He needed to get off Taris, so his immediate goals aligned with Onasi's and Bastila's. Temporarily bereft of the Force, he would need short-term allies. Even a young Jedi was more powerful than most people without the Force. So with Onasi's experience and Bastila's power, combined with Revan's cunning, they might have a chance. But looking beyond that, Malak and Bandon would both need to be killed, leaving Revan in need of a new apprentice. Bastila's performance on his flagship suggested that she might be suitable, if he could sway her loyalty from the Jedi. That would take time, but Revan could be patient. Onasi would give him credibility with Bastila, and earning her trust was the first step. Very well, then. For now, he would give all appearances of being a good little Republic grunt.

"The sooner we start looking for Bastila the sooner we'll find her," Revan said. "Let's go."

"Good idea," Onasi said. "We can use this abandoned apartment as a base. Just remember to keep a low profile. I've heard some grim stories about the Dark Jedi interrogation techniques. They say the Force can do terrible things to a mind. It can wipe away your memories and destroy your very identity!"

DAMN! The final piece fell into place for Revan. Why his memory was fragmented. Why he was struggling to use the Force. What he was doing on the Endar Spire. Why Bastila was there. Why these idiots kept calling him "Avner". THE JEDI COUNCIL HAD WIPED HIS MIND AND INSERTED A FALSE IDENTITY! Whose idea had this been? Atris? No, she might have thought of it, but would have argued to kill him instead. Vrook would have supported her. Vandar, perhaps? Vash would have gone along with it, and Kavar. Probably Zhar. Dorak would have been almost a bystander, easily influenced by the consensus of the others. Yes, that's what had happened. They wished to have him as their ally, so they had tried to recreate him as their pawn. Between his injuries and this new, ineffectual "Avner" personality, his midichlorian count had dropped precipitously. They would have wanted to keep this as secret as possible. Bastila, as the only Jedi not on the Council already aware of Revan's true identity, had been assigned to guide him in his new role as Jedi lapdog, and Ulgar had been her assistant. But, as they should have known, Revan was not so easily suppressed or defeated. The Council would pay for this, all of them. But first, though, this made his situation even more tenuous. Bastila would know his true identity, and would sense the inevitable rise in his midichlorian count as his body readjusted to his true personality. Would she try to kill him if she realized he was no longer the Jedi's patsy? Perhaps. It was possible for someone without the Force to defeat a Jedi. He should know. He'd witnessed the Mandalorians kill many, and after the war he had trained a small army of special forces to do just that. If Bastila attacked him, he might still prevail. But hopefully it wouldn't come to that. He still wanted her as his apprentice. He'd just have to keep her convinced that he thought he was really Avner. And then, when the moment was right, when his power had returned and Bastila was fully prepared, he would reveal himself and claim her as his own. Together, they would kill Malak and Revan would retake his position as Dark Lord. This would be delicate, but if he was careful, all was not lost.

"But I figure if we don't do anything stupid we should be okay," Onasi said, still rambling about whatever it was he was on about now. This was the first thing he'd said that Revan wholeheartedly agreed with. As long as as he didn't do anything stupid. He should be okay.

"Alright, soldier, let's move out," Onasi said, finally concluding his endless speech. He turned for the door, but Revan got there first. Even if he had to keep up this pretense, there was only one real leader here.