KOTOR 1 - Connections: Revan's Surrender

Darth Revan stood on the command deck of her flagship, in total control.

Her fleet of Sith starships had been attacked by a group of Republic ships, and the ensuing battle had continued for some time. The Sith, however, had the upper hand and the battle would soon be over. This would result not only in another victory for Revan, hastening the fall of the Republic, but it would also solve two issues that she'd been aware of for some time. After today, the Republic's fall and her supremacy would be assured. The rest of the war would simply be a matter of details.

The first of Revan's two issues was the misguided notion held by certain Jedi that they could assassinate her. Jedi were not assassins. They did not target individual enemies for death. They were peacekeepers, defenders of the ideals of the Light. They were not soldiers. They were dispassionate seekers of knowledge, living in serenity and harmony.

Jedi were also hypocrites.

Years ago, when the Republic was under attack by the Mandalorians, Revan had seen that the Jedi must step forward to fight the threat and defend the Republic. The Jedi Council, however, had refused. They counseled patience. Revan had seen through their facade. They claimed wisdom, but Revan saw that their refusal was anchored in pride. She knew that, sufficiently pressed, the Jedi would have responded in the same way as almost any other living being. They would have defended their own, at any cost, discarding any principle that stood in their way. But it would have been too late. By the time the Jedi were willing to act, the Republic would have been beyond saving.

So Revan defied the Jedi Council. Together with her closest friend Malak, who even now remained her second-in-command, Revan recruited and led a group of Jedi against the Mandalorians. Revan herself had become leader of virtually the entire Republic war effort. Together with others, including former Jedi and trusted General Meetra Surik, Revan had defeated the Mandalorians. The Jedi Council, never having had to face the reality of the war, continued in arrogance to refuse to acknowledge that Revan had been correct. They had exiled Meetra for having the audacity to return to the Jedi, stand before the Council, and explain her actions.

None of this had surprised Revan. She had seen no real hope that Meetra would convince the Council, but it had been necessary. Meetra had given the Council one last opportunity to break out of their doomed, rigid dogma. They had failed the test, as Revan had known they would. So Revan had pushed them. She'd pushed them because it was necessary, because the Republic was weak and she had to make it strong. After returning from ... where had she been? What had she seen? Revan momentarily lost her train of thought as a closed part of her mind asserted itself and cleared away things she was not permitted to remember. Her eyes lost focus and she stared out the viewport at the stars.

The Jedi, that's what she had been thinking about. She and Malak had discovered the Star Forge, an ancient engine that blended the Force with technology, and used it to construct a Sith armada of incredible power. She'd pushed back the Republic, defeating them at every turn. She knew all of their strategies, all of their plans - she'd put most of them in place herself. She hit them where they thought they were strong, but were in fact weak. She feinted at their weak points, and then attacked the areas they left undefended in their rush to shore up their deficiencies. They were prey, and she was the predator. She batted them about to and fro, weakening them, setting them up for the fatal blow. She would destroy the Republic, then rebuild it better, stronger, prepare it for ... for something she couldn't quite define.

The Jedi had responded exactly as she knew they would. Long after the point where it might have made a difference, the Jedi entered the fray. They could have been formidable opponents, but they sacrificed their every advantage in hesitation and uncertainty, all the while convincing themselves they were wise and prudent. Then when there was no more hope, when they found themselves cornered, they decided to fight. Revan's advance was far too established for them to counter. It was only natural that, in their desperation, they'd violate their own laws and attempt an attack directly at Revan. And at last, here it was.

A strike team of Republic soldiers and Jedi had used the battle as cover to board Revan's ship. Revan had allowed this, to disabuse the Jedi of any future such foolishness. Revan suspected that at least the lower ranked Jedi among the strike team, and perhaps even its leadership, believed that their mission was to capture her. But she was certain that the Jedi Council held no such misconception, and that it had been communicated to the strike team that, if necessary, they were to kill her. The Jedi Council knew Revan well enough to understand that she would not be captured. The Council was manipulating the strike team, placing them in a position where the only choice they'd have was Revan's death. Revan, however, did not plan to die today.

It had been apparent from the beginning of the space battle that the Republic had no real chance of winning, and in fact never had any expectation of a military victory. Their tactics had focused on dividing Revan's flagship and Malak's ship, the Leviathan. They played a cat-and-mouse game of keeping Revan's and Malak's ships separately occupied, stringing the battle along. Their ruse was obvious. Revan had done similar things to opponent after opponent in battle after battle, but with much more subtlety. The strike team had boarded Revan's isolated ship, and Revan had arranged her forces to whittle away at the strike team's strength without immediately destroying it. Revan's forces were slowly yielding ground, giving the appearance of being forced to fall back. Revan had already felt the death of the Jedi Master in charge of the strike force, which had come as something of a surprise. Perhaps the Master had been overconfident, a trait all too common among the Jedi leadership. But Revan sensed that several Jedi still survived, and she expected them to make it to the bridge. This was good. She wanted them for herself.

The second of Revan's two issues was the impending betrayal of her apprentice, Darth Malak. This was not Malak's first attempt to usurp Revan's place as leader, but it would be his last. Previously, Malak had struck directly at Revan, attacking with his lightsaber, counting on his significant physical abilities to overwhelm Revan. Malak was indeed powerful, but Revan was more than his equal. What Malak brought to a fight in brute aggression, Revan countered in strategy. The fight had ended with Revan's lightsaber severing Malak's lower jaw from his head. Revan could have easily killed Malak, but Malak had still been a useful tool. No longer.

"Helm, adjust to 65 mark 124 mark 93, speed at one eighth," Revan said. "Be prepared for maximum acceleration and a sharp turn to port. Weapons, charge all batteries and be ready to deliver a port broadside at my command. Do not adjust gun position until my order. Shields, drop bridge port shield to 10 percent. Fluctuate randomly as if we are having difficulty maintaining that shield. Prepare to drop that shield on my command, then be prepared to quickly raise it again."

Malak, for all his bluntness, would also be aware of the Jedi strike team and would expect Revan to be distracted. He likely already had long-distance spotters watching for lightsaber activity on Revan's bridge. Malak would wait until the Jedi strike force arrived, then hit Revan with a full barrage of fire. The Leviathan's guns were a reflection of their master: powerful, if somewhat inaccurate. But at close distance, their targeting ability would be sufficient. They would easily pierce Revan's fluctuating shields and destroy the bridge. Revan, occupied with the Jedi, would be killed, and Malak would take her place as commander of the Sith. Or so Malak thought.

In fact, Revan's shields would be at full strength when the attack came. And Revan was at least as familiar with the Leviathan's strengths and weaknesses as Malak, if not more so. Revan wouldn't long be where Malak expected her to be. Malak's own port aft shields had taken heavy damage and were legitimately fluctuating. Revan would swing around and, before Malak could respond, hit Malak in this vulnerable spot, causing cascade failures throughout the ship. Next, Revan would swing behind the Leviathan and take out Malak's engines and targeting systems. She would then offer Malak's crew the opportunity to kill their master or be destroyed. She was unsure how they would respond, or how successful they would be if they chose to attack Malak. But at that point, it didn't matter. All options ended in Revan's favor with Malak's death. Revan would finish things personally if necessary.

Revan could hear the sounds of battle. The Jedi strike force was drawing near. She reached out in the Force to sense the strike force just beyond the sealed bridge doors.

"Tactical officer, seal blast doors at junction F82," Revan said. She had been progressively cutting off the strike team's escape routes, in case they realized they were walking into a trap. She would leave nothing to chance.

"Guards, defend Bridge Entrance Two," Revan said. The bridge guards immediately moved into the indicated position. The guards were Sith Acolytes, armed with lightsabers of their own. But they were raw and weak. Revan expected them to fail, but wanted to see the strike force in action with her own eyes before she destroyed them.

The bridge doors burst open and the strike force rushed in. Their number had dropped from almost two dozen to barely a handful. They were well trained, but they had never faced a Sith Lord. Revan was confident that, even with their original numbers, she could have dealt with them all. With their reduced strength, this should be trivial.

"Shields, drop power to bridge port shield. Do not raise it again until I command, even when Darth Malak's ship targets us." Revan did not raise her voice, but it carried clearly even through the sounds of battle. The officer in charge of shields raised an eyebrow at the last part, but did not hesitate. It shouldn't have been necessary, Revan thought, to elaborate on her order to drop shield power. However, people in fear were unpredictable, and setting the officer's expectations about what would occur would remove the chance that Revan's plans would be foiled by the officer's surprise. There was no margin in carelessness. To that end, she added "Confirm that the bridge emergency force fields are operational." The force fields would automatically activate in the event of pressure loss on the bridge, a safety net in case things somehow did not go as planned.

The strike team had engaged the bridge guards. Four Jedi and three Republic soldiers had come through the door. The Jedi carved easily through Revan's guards, their movements a smooth poetry. The Republic soldiers were not as successful. One fell, then another. Finally, only one of Revan's guards remained. To his credit, he positioned himself between Revan and the attackers and prepared for a fight he could not hope to win. The lead Jedi, a dark-haired young woman wielding a yellow lightsaber, turned to face him. But then she looked past him, to Revan. Her eyes seemed to penetrate the depths of Revan's mask.

And then everything stopped.

The intensity of the Jedi's belief was overwhelming. Pushed beyond her limits, her true self was revealed. The Force swirled about her with a ferocity rivaling that of a Sith Lord. But where a Sith Lord would have shown the darkness of evil or the red glow of hate, the Jedi was a pure glow, a supernova of Light and Fire. Surely when she walked the halls of the Jedi Enclave at Dantooine or the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, she was a dutiful, dispassionate follower of the Jedi Code. But here, in this moment, all that had fallen away. Her power was fueled by her emotion, but instead of the anger that powered a Sith Lord, she was energized by determination and faith.

"This is what you were supposed to be," said a voice in Revan's head. The voice was soothing, familiar, even though Revan was certain she didn't recognize it. Could the Jedi be projecting it? Revan's old teacher, Master Kae, as she had called herself at the time, had sometimes spoken directly to her mind, but Kae's voice had been more like a hiss. And Revan had eventually become strong enough to shield herself from Kae, and her mental defenses were still in place. No, this was not the Jedi. It felt like the voice of an old friend, even though Revan had never heard it before. What was this?

The Jedi shifted her gaze from Revan and crossed lightsabers with the guard. Yellow crashed against red and, a few swift strokes later, the guard had fallen. The remaining Republic solider raised his weapon at Revan. Revan almost absent-mindedly used the Force to crush the soldier's throat, leaving him a crumpled lifeless heap on the floor.

The Jedi squared herself to face Revan directly. Revan was vaguely aware of the other three Jedi behind her. They exhibited the normal reserved, contained, feeble presence in the Force that Revan was accustomed to sensing from Jedi. They were nothing. But the Jedi with the yellow lightsaber shone. Though she probably didn't even realize she was doing it, the Jedi was instinctively drawing strength from her less remarkable companions, focusing and fusing their combined abilities into something that was greater than its parts. There were Sith techniques that did something similar, but they left the targets weakened. Somehow, though, what this Jedi was doing seemed to be strengthening them all. Still, only the lead Jedi mattered. Once she was eliminated, the rest would crumble.

Again the voice: "You were meant to be better. You were made for more than just pain. You were made for life, and hope. You are and always will be mine, if you will just allow it. You think your plans are ambitious, but there is a bigger plan that you cannot yet see. You are not ready to. You must first trust. You must first relearn who you are, become who you should have been." Revan now had a suspicion about the source of the voice, but it could not be. Could it?

The Leviathan had arrived, and Malak was about to give the order to fire. But still Revan hesitated. In this young Jedi, Revan saw the solution to everything wrong with both herself and the Jedi. Everything the Jedi sought to quell, everything they suppressed to their detriment, this Jedi exuded. Everything the Sith tried to command, but which historically was always their ultimate weakness and failure, this Jedi wielded as a weapon. In this moment, she unified the best of the Sith and the best of the Jedi and didn't even know it. Revan had forced her to the edge, where Jedi were usually exposed. But this one was no hypocrite. She was something else entirely, something better. She was everything the Jedi could have been, and everything Revan wished she herself would be. The incandescent flame of the Jedi's belief cut through all Revan's preconceptions.

"You cannot win, Revan!", the Jedi said.

In this she was wrong. Despite the revelation she had provided, she was nowhere close to matching Revan's power. Even aided by her three companions, she was not even a challenge for Revan. And there was still time for Revan to give the order to her officers. Revan absolutely could win, right here, right now, and the Republic would fall. It was a certainty. This was the moment she had orchestrated.

"If you win, you will lose. In victory, you will find defeat. You will achieve everything you intend, but lose everyone you mean to save. There is another way. Let go." Revan could no longer deny it. This was the voice of the Force. And at last, Revan understood. The Sith would have mocked Revan's revelation as weak, pitiful. The Jedi would have rejected it as blasphemy. But, finally, Revan gave away all control, fully knew the Force, and let the Force fully know her.

Revan was aware of the Jedi advancing on her. She could feel Malak's rage and hatred as he gave the order to fire.

Revan did nothing.

It was not in her to surrender to any mortal enemy. But she surrendered to the Force, wholly and completely, for whatever may come. She was Darth Revan no more.

She never felt the explosion.

Bastila Shan watched the last Sith Acolyte fall, and squared herself to face Revan.

The one remaining Republic solider raised his rifle, and the Sith Lord casually choked the life from him. Then Revan simply stood, twirling her lightsaber but not advancing, not attacking. Was she toying with them? Then, through the bridge viewport, Bastila saw the Leviathan approaching. Revan must be stalling, allowing Darth Malak to cut off their escape route. It was immaterial. She had given up on surviving this when Master Markavra had fallen. The others had faltered, but she'd rallied them and pressed on.

The plan had been to capture Revan, but that plan was now lost. They had choreographed every move of their battle with Revan, and planned for every contingency. Only one thing was essential: Master Markavra must engage Revan first. He had trained intensely, had prepared himself both mentally and physically, and he was the only person who could occupy Revan long enough for the rest of the team to fulfill their own roles in subduing and capturing her. But Master Markavra was dead, and Bastila was improvising. Just before they'd left Dantooine, Master Vrook had taken her aside and made sure she understood that, whatever else happened, if Revan remained in command of the Sith after this raid, the galaxy was lost. His meaning had been clear.

So the mission must succeed, and at this point, only one thing mattered. She was face-to-face with Darth Revan. This was her only chance to strike down the evil force tearing apart the galaxy. The suffocating dark power she felt rolling off Revan did not matter. The Jedi Order did not matter. The many lives they'd lost along the way did not matter. Her remaining companions did not matter. She did not matter. All that mattered was killing Revan.

"You cannot win, Revan!" she said. And in that moment, all evidence to the contrary, she believed it. She tightened her grip on her lightsaber and prepared to unleash all the power in her body and mind.

Then the Leviathan fired.

The blast should have killed her, but at the last moment Bastila instinctively shielded herself in the Force. Even so, she was knocked to the deck. Bastila raised her head, shocked, and surveyed the scene, simultaneously reaching out in the Force, searching for signs of life. The bridge officers were dead, as were her remaining Jedi companions. She sensed only a fading flicker of life remaining within Revan.

Still shaken, Bastila tried to stand, was unable, and instead raised to one knee. She looked around at the destruction. The bridge's transparasteel viewport had been completely destroyed. Only the emergency force fields separated her from the vacuum of space. The air felt thin and, even though her ears were still ringing from the explosion, she was able to hear a distinct hissing of escaping air. Some of the emergency force field emitters must have been damaged. Between the inward force of the explosion itself, then the outward rush of air before the force fields engaged, nothing was where it had been. The floor was littered with debris. Bodies lay about in random places. Even though she could sense Revan, it took Bastila a few minutes to locate her. Revan had been closest to the explosion, and had been thrown to the far side of the bridge.

Bastila steadied herself, stood to her feet, and made her way through the chaos to where Revan lay. Revan appeared to have taken the full impact of the explosion. Her breathing was ragged, and one of her arms lay at an unnatural angle, clearly broken. This hadn't been how they had planned to subdue Revan, but it worked. Bastila realized quickly that Darth Malak had taken this opportunity to betray Revan. But in the unlikely case Bastila survived, she would worry about Malak later. For now, she had a mission to complete, and a monster to destroy. Her finger hovered over her lightsaber's activation button, ready to ignite it and extinguish Revan's life.

She paused.

The original escape plan, assuming they captured Revan, was for the Republic soldiers to provide support and cover while the Jedi ensured that Revan remained senseless. Now there were no Republic soldiers, and no other Jedi. On their final approach to Revan's ship, the Jedi on the strike team had made a pact. If things went poorly during the escape and there was only one of them remaining, that last Jedi would kill Revan. She was simply too dangerous. One unblocked blaster bolt during the exit and that last Jedi would fall, Revan's forces would recover her, and she would resume her conquest of the Republic with renewed vigor. No, that could not be allowed to happen. At the time, Bastila had not been certain whether Master Vrook had pulled each of them aside for a private conversation, or if they'd all come to the same conclusion separately. But it only made sense. If they could not capture Revan, she at least could not be allowed to survive. And here Bastila was, the last of the strike team. Her path was clear.

Her finger touched her lightsaber's activation button, but did not press it.

Why did she hesitate? Did she not honor her fallen comrades? Their still-warm bodies lay nearby. She was sure that any of them would have completed the mission. Each of them would have fulfilled their vow, killed Revan, and secured safety for the Republic.

Still, she did not activate the lightsaber.

She was suddenly overwhelmed by a need to see the face of the person she was about to kill. She pushed back Revan's hood and tried to pull off Revan's mask. At first, it didn't release, and Bastila briefly wondered if Revan had secured it either surgically or with some sort of Sith sorcery. Then she realized that it had been physically embedded by the explosion into Revan's face. Revan must have either landed on her face, or been struck directly in the mask by flying debris. Removing it forcefully was the last thing Revan needed from a medical standpoint, but Bastila's duty was to end Revan's life anyway, so what did that matter? Bastila yanked the mask off with a sharp tug and, for reasons she could never explain, tucked it into her waistband.

She wasn't sure what she had hoped to see, but this wasn't it. The face under the mask was barely recognizable as human. Bastila wasn't even sure how many fractures Revan's misshapen face must have. Her nose was almost sideways, and streams of blood ran from both nostrils down her dark skin. Her half-open, unfocused eyes were also red with blood, the pupils dilated. Her mouth hung at an awkward angle, the jaw at least dislocated, and more likely shattered. Perhaps there were Jedi skilled enough in Force healing to have repaired at least some of the damage, but this was not Bastila's gift and her abilities in this area were limited. Revan had kept her face hidden for so many years that accurate reconstruction seemed unlikely. Still, did it matter what her face looked like when she died?

Again, Bastila started to ignite the lightsaber, and again she stopped. The person below her was no threat. She sensed no malice, no danger. Was that a consequence of Revan's insensate state? She placed her hand on Revan's brow and reached out in the Force. Revan's life was indeed dim, almost gone. Strangely, all she could sense from Revan was peace. Suddenly she no longer saw a larger-than-life villain. She simply saw a wounded, helpless person. She had taken lives in battle this very day, but this was different. She made her decision. She would not commit murder.

She focused on Revan's life force, holding it, cradling it, protecting it. She visualized herself blowing on a dying ember, breathing it back into a small flame. A moment ago she was ready to die in order to kill Revan, but now she poured life from herself into Revan, strengthening her. Even unconscious, she felt Revan reaching back, connecting to her, gently drawing from her. The flame grew more distinct, and quickly became self-sustaining. By the Force, Revan was strong!

Bastila's escape was surprisingly straightforward. She quickly swapped uniforms with one of the fallen Sith Acolytes, hoisted Revan's limp body onto her shoulders, and used the Force to help support her as she ran at breakneck speed through the ship, shouting "Make way for Darth Revan! Open the blast doors!" She kept Revan's flagship positioned between her small vessel and the Leviathan as she flew away. She had just reached a safe distance when Revan's flagship exploded, briefly blinding the Leviathan's sensors. Bastila used this opportunity to engage her hyperdrive. With any luck, Malak would think Revan's body had been destroyed in the explosion.

As she jumped to hyperspace, Bastila looked down at the still-unconscious Dark Lord lying in the floor. What had she done?