KOTOR 2 - Connections: Betrayed

STRONG WARNING: The following contains heavy spoilers about KOTOR 1 and KOTOR II. If you have not played the games, DO NOT READ THIS. Go play them, then come back. I promise I'll wait.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this was written in preparation for a 2022 playthrough of KOTOR I and KOTOR II. For this playthrough, I carried the same head canon story all the way through from before the beginning of KOTOR I to a conclusion after KOTOR II. Here are the associated main character builds for KOTOR 1 and KOTOR 2. I try to stick to the spirit of the builds and playthrough in the fanfics, but I do not necessarily follow them exactly.

DISCLAIMER: the conclusion to this fan fiction, which begins in this chapter, deviates wildly from any sort of canon. By the end of the next chapter, I'm way, way off the map. If this sort of speculative writing bothers you, then you might want to stop now and not waste your time. If, on the other hand, you're interested in a just-for-fun story that doesn't fit anywhere into the official Star Wars timeline, then read on!

CONTEXT: This is the sixth chapter in the fan fiction which started in KOTOR 1 - Connections: Revan's Surrender. This chapter is set some time after KOTOR II, and immediately after the previous chapter.

"So, how far away from the planet should we exit hyperspace?" asked Atton Rand.

Atton was piloting the Ebon Hawk toward the mysterious planet Nathema, the presumed location of Revan. With him were Meetra Surik, Jolee Bindo, the Twi'lek Yuthura Ban, and the Miraluka Visas Marr.

Revan had defied the Jedi Council by leading the Republic forces in the Mandalorian Wars. She had recruited many Jedi to her cause, including Meetra, who became her most trusted General. Meetra had destroyed the Mandalorian Fleet by activating a superweapon that also killed thousands of nearby Jedi and Republic soldiers. The combined impact of these deaths had severed Meetra's connection to the Force. Despite this, she had returned to face the Jedi Council and explain her actions.

But Revan and her apprentice Malak had fallen to the Dark Side of the Force and attacked the reeling Republic. The Jedi Council, erroneously associating Meetra with Darth Revan, had exiled Meetra. Meetra had left, assuming Darth Revan would conquer the Republic. Revan, however, was captured by the Jedi and redeemed to the Light Side. Despite losing her memory, Revan, under the name Victory Relevant, led a group including Jolee to defeat Darth Malak. During this, they met Yuthura, a Jedi-turned-Sith who Revan restored to the Light.

Afterward, Revan had regained memories of the True Sith, an ancient empire who had secretly started the Mandalorian Wars. Fearing the True Sith planned an invasion and inspired by a formative new way of understanding the Force, Revan had departed to Nathema, a Void in the Force, to refine her new technique. But Nathema had proved more than Revan had expected, and she was forced to enter a protective trance.

In Revan's absence, elements of Revan and Malak's former Sith had risen to attack the teetering Republic. Meetra had returned to the Core and led a small group including Atton and Visas against them. After defeating these new Sith, Meetra had learned of the True Sith and of Revan's location on Nathema. Now she was en route to Nathema with Atton, Jolee, Yuthura, and Visas, in hopes of finding Revan.

"Let's not get too close," Meetra said. "Juhani found the planet's effects tolerable at high standard orbit. Start a bit further out than that, and then ease closer. T3, be ready to take over the controls if the rest of us are affected by Nathema."

T3-M4, the small astrotech droid that had once belonged to Revan, beeped an acknowledgement and connected to a nearby dataport, synchronizing its systems with the Hawk's.

Atton tapped in a series of course adjustments while Meetra alerted the other members of the crew. The others came up the hall and crowded into the cockpit, curious for their first look at their destination. With them was HK-47, the unique assassin droid originally created by Revan. After a few more minutes, the Hawk exited hyperspace. Before them, still some distance away, was the planet Nathema. Its brownish-gray surface was remarkable only for its plainness. The planet was an empty slate, almost barely present. But its effects were immediate.

"Wow," Jolee said, putting his hand to his head. Yuthura steadied herself against the wall.

"I don't feel anyth-" Meetra began, but she was interrupted by the sound of a body hitting the floor behind her. She turned to see that Visas had collapsed. Before Meetra could even bend down to check on her, the Miraluka began convulsing violently.

"Get us out of here!" Meetra shouted.

"I hear you," replied Atton. Nathema immediately gave way to hyperspace as the Ebon Hawk shot away from the planet.

"Quickly, help me get her to the medbay," said Meetra. Jolee and Yuthura helped carry the now-limp Visas down the hall to the ship's small medical facility, where they placed her onto the single bed. Meetra administered a medpack, while Jolee placed his hand on Visas' forehand and called on the Force to stabilize her.

Moments later, Atton walked in. "I bought us out of hyperspace into interstellar space between systems," he said. "None of you can feel the planet's effects at this distance, right?"

Jolee and Yuthura shook their heads, but Meetra said "I never did."

"How did you calculate a new hyperspace jump that quickly?" Yuthura asked.

"It was already calculated before we exited the last jump," Atton said. "I never come out of hyperspace without a plan to jump right back in if I don't like what I see."

"I see what you mean about the piloting," Yuthura said. "I'll remember that trick for myself."

"Master?" Visas said, stirring on the medical bed. "What happened? The last thing I remember is seeing the planet."

"You were overwhelmed by its effects," Meetra said. "I should have anticipated this. The deep connection that Miraluka have to the Force must make you especially vulnerable to Nathema."

"I am endangering the mission," Visas said. "I should not have come."

"We'll get through this," Meetra assured her. "Jolee, Yuthura, Atton, how did the planet feel to you?"

"Empty," Jolee said. "Like the floor had given out and I was falling into a hole with no bottom."

"Silent," Yuthura said. "Numb. As if all sensation had ceased. And yet somehow dizzying at the same time."

"Not where I'd want to build a vacation home," Atton said. "But I could still function. You felt nothing at all, though?"

"Not a thing," Meetra said. "Not even the slightest bit unusual. Is this ... is this because I can't feel the Force? Its absence didn't affect me, because I can no longer feel it in the first place?"

"The way we felt," Yuthura said, "that's how you feel all the time? I know you described it to us before, but I didn't appreciate how horrible the experience of it would be."

"Thank you," Meetra said. "But this is actually good news." The others looked at her curiously, so she continued. "First, this means that I should be able to function normally on the planet's surface. So I can look for Revan, even if the rest of you can't. But second, I think it means that, better prepared, you can as well, at least briefly. You see, after Malachor V, I was physically ill, severely, violently. I loaded myself up with every medpack and stim I could find just so I could function well enough to complete my duties. But even then, I could only manage brief stints on deck. I spent most of my time at my refresher being sick. Eventually, that passed. I had assumed it was either the effects of the Mass Shadow Generator, or my own regret at the death I'd caused. But in retrospect, I think it was because I had cut myself off from the Force. I survived it. You can too."

"I will try," Visas said weakly.

"But you don't have to do it on your own," Meetra said. "That was the point of bringing a group. We're here to for each other."

"I can help," Jolee said. "Even with our resistance work, I've had plenty of free time on my hands. Nights get long when you live alone. So I've been thinking about what Revan said, about connections being our strength. I don't pretend to fully understand it the way she did, but I've gotten a lot better at forming connections. If we're talking about just a brief touch-and-go on Nathema to drop Meetra off, I think I can get Visas through it."

"How?" Yuthura said. Her tone suggested she really didn't want to know the answer.

"Visas and I will meditate together," Jolee said. "I'll forge a connection to her, share my strength with her. I think I can maintain it long enough."

"That's not what I meant," Yuthura said, even more cautiously. "How did you practice forming connections when no one was there with you?"

"Gizka!" Jolee said proudly. "I picked up a couple when I stopped in at Kashyyyk once, and, well, you know how gizka are. Pretty soon I had a whole herd of 'em!"

"You ... connected ... to a herd of gizka??? Repeatedly???" Yuthura said, then raised her hand to cut off Jolee's reply. "No, never mind. I don't want to know." She walked out of the medbay shaking her head.

"Master, I will try this," Visas said. "Jolee, let us go to the starboard barracks. It was there that I would meditate during our travels. I can best center myself in that place."

"Very well," Meetra said. "T3 can give Atton the exact coordinates where he hid Revan. We'll stop only long enough for me to exit the ship, and get you away from the planet as fast as possible. We'll set up a rendezvous time for you to return and pick me ... hopefully us ... back up."

"And if you run into trouble while we're gone?" Atton asked.

"T3 was on this planet for a long time," Meetra said. "He never ran into any trouble. Juhani either. The problem with Nathema isn't what is there, it's what isn't. I'll be fine."

"Okay," Atton said. "I'll coordinate with the little bolt-bucket and get the jumps set up."

A short time later, Meetra stood on the surface of Nathema. Yuthura had joined Atton in the cockpit in case he needed assistance, while Jolee and Visas had meditated in the starboard barracks. T3 stood ready to take over the controls if necessary. HK-47 had tried to accompany Meetra, but Meetra had instead convinced him to be ready in the gun turret in case of a surprise attack. She though there was virtually no chance of this, but it at least got him out of everyone's way. Meetra did not know how any of the others had fared during the dropoff. She had positioned herself at the loading ramp, ready to dart out of the ship as soon as it touched down. The Ebon Hawk had smoothly pulled away the moment she disembarked, so she hoped they had done well. Or at least, that T3 had gotten them all out in time.

Meetra had promised to abort if she felt the slightest effects of the planet before leaving the ship, but she had felt none. Now, standing in a wide open area outside a cluster of dust-covered buildings, she could honestly say she felt nothing. This was both a comfort to her, and a reminder of the severity of her condition. There were times during their recent travels when she'd thought she was beginning to feel the Force again, and hoped that she was somehow healing. Even the condemnation of the Jedi Council that she had increased her own strength through her enemies' deaths held a small glimmer of hope. That wasn't how she would want to regain her connection to the Force, but it had suggested it was perhaps possible. Now, though, she had to admit that the Force was truly gone from her. Her perceptions of regaining it had been an illusion perpetrated by Kreia, just another manipulation. She might still feel a glimmer through her connections to her companions, a small spark reminding her of what she had lost. But if Nathema left her unaffected, she could no longer pretend to herself that there was any hope.

None of that mattered, though. She was here to find Revan. She looked about. The Hawk had dropped her off in a wide, open area surrounded by buildings. She thought it must have once been a meeting area, perhaps a park of some sort. There were sidewalks, benches, and lamp posts. But where there should have been grass and trees, there was only bare ground, with not even a weed growing. She paused and listened for a moment, but there was no sound. No birds chirping. No insects buzzing. No hum of machinery. Not even the rustle of a breeze. The air was stale and motionless, its temperature moderate in an ineffective way that granted neither warmth nor cooling. The sky was dull and brown, the system's central orange star a muted sickly tan color. Surely the surrounding buildings themselves had once been decorated in some fashion, but they were now drab, a gray that spoke mostly of the absence of color. Everything about her seemed as if it were a sham, a placeholder, almost not there. What had happened to this place?

She walked toward the largest building nearby, almost expecting it to retreat or vanish as she approached. The building however, remained solid. She briefly looked about for evidence of the Ebon Hawk's previous crash here before reminding herself that it had crashed a great distance away, and that T3 had relocated Revan here specifically so that any enemies investigating the crash site would not find her. As Meetra walked, she noticed something that had escaped her attention before. Clothing, lying about. Not scattered, as if it had been blown, but piled as if-

Meetra stopped and jostled one of the clothing piles with her foot, almost unwilling to touch it. But she had to know. Outer wear was on top, undergarments inside, lying on top of shoes with socks still inside them.

No, it couldn't be.

Meetra hesitantly rummaged through another clothing pile with her shoe, careful not to let the clothing touch her skin, as if it would somehow trigger in her the fate that had befallen its long-deceased occupant. It was the same as the previous pile. Nathema's population hadn't been evacuated, or killed in some sort of natural disaster, or even murdered by some attacking foe. They had simply disappeared. Somehow, all life had been stolen from this planet, every living thing instantly destroyed in place, in service of ... Meetra couldn't even imagine. What power of the Dark Side could have done such a thing? If the True Sith were capable of this, what else could they do? Why had Revan come to this place of horror?

Meetra forced herself to continue on. It was still some time before the Hawk was scheduled to return, but she couldn't let herself dawdle. The building T3 had described was large, perhaps a warehouse of some kind. There were a number of large doors down one side, all closed, but Meetra had approached it from the front, so she entered through what had presumably been the main entrance.

The building's interior was dark, but Meetra pulled a floating light from her belt and activated it. The clever device hovered roughly a meter behind and above her, its light causing Meetra's long shadow to stretch across the floor. She was in what was presumably a receiving room of some sort. The room was not deep, but stretched some distance either direction along the front of the building. A number of windows along the front of the room should have admitted light, but Nathema's sun seemed to have little power to penetrate them. Chairs lined one wall, and a desk stood against another. There were inactive screens on the walls, their power sources long exhausted. Several doors opened off the long room, but one in particular seemed likely to open to the building's interior. If this indeed had been a warehouse, this was probably the entrance to its central area.

Meetra walked through the doorway cautiously, uncertain why she would be so unsettled. Her footsteps should have echoed in the building's empty interior, but each step was merely a dull thud, as if Nathema itself were soaking up the sound. At first, the floating light brightened only a narrow strip extending across the room, but that was enough for Meetra to confirm her suspicions. This had indeed been a warehouse of some sort. She could see the outlines of shelving, but at least at this distance it appeared empty. Perhaps the warehouse had not yet been stocked. Or perhaps whatever happened to the planet had extinguished not only its occupants, but the contents of the warehouse as well.

The floating light ducked to enter the doorway behind Meetra, then flew to an even greater height and adjusted to maximum brightness, its adaptive programming sensing how to best illuminate the room. And then Meetra saw her.

Revan.

She sat cross-legged, motionless, in the centeral open area. She was clothed in a simple dark robe, her hood back, her face revealed. As Meetra approached, she could see no motion, not even the slow rise and fall of breath. For a moment, Meetra feared the worst, but Revan's dark skin appeared healthy. In fact, her expression was one of complete peace. Her features were different from what Meetra remembered, but Bastila had mentioned that the reconstructive surgery necessary after Revan's injuries had changed her appearance. And even had that not been the case, Revan had worn her mask for years before Meetra's long exile, so she would naturally have changed at least somewhat over that much time. As Meetra drew even closer, she could see that, while Revan's body was completely still, her eyes were rapidly moving behind her closed eyelids.

"Revan," Meetra said, her voice hollow in the spacious room, its greedy air seeming to pull the sound away the moment it escaped Meetra's lips. Revan gave no indication that she had heard.

"REVAN!" Meetra said, loudly. Still, Revan did not stir. Meetra took another step forward, bent down, and placed her hand on the motionless woman's shoulder.

Revan's eyes flew open. For a moment, they were unfocused, confused, darting about, trying to make sense of their surroundings. Then they focused on Meetra. Revan's lips broke into a broad smile as recognition flooded her face. She sprang nimbly to her feet.

"Meetra!" she called in delight, her voice echoing in the vast room. "How did you get her so quickly?"

"Quickly?" Meetra said, confused.

"Yes, surely Juhani couldn't have found you yet. It's been what, three weeks?"

"Revan," Meetra said, "You've been here for years!"

"Years?" Revan looked around the room. "I don't recognize this place. I recall crashing on Nathema. T3 helped me into a building for shelter and I went into a trance to counteract the planet's effects - I didn't understand then, you see - but that was completely different building. How did I get here? How did you get here, for that matter?"

"The Ebon Hawk was badly damaged in the crash," Meetra said. "T3 went in search of materials to repair it. He found this place, which is apparently around a week's travel from where you crashed, and relocated you here in case enemies investigated the crash site. After the ship was repaired, he became worried about you and went for help. Long story short, he found me."

"It's more than that." She looked intensely at Meetra. "Much more. You've been through some things. But you can tell me about that later. Are you alone?"

"I'm here with Jolee Bindo, Yuthura Ban, and some people you haven't met yet, Atton Rand and Visas Marr. T3 and HK-47 are with me as well. We came in the Ebon Hawk, of course."

"That's great, I can't wait to see them! And HK-47, is repaired? I recall him being badly damaged in the crash. I wasn't sure he'd make it."

"Not only did he make it," Meetra said, "he was an enormous help in what I've been doing recently. You certainly know how to build a droid, Revan."

"I'm Tory now, short for Victory Relevant. 'Revan' was always more title than name, and it carried a lot of baggage. These days, I'm no one special. And better for it."

"Bastila mentioned you started going by 'Tory' after your, well, your experiences", Meetra said. "That's going to take some getting used to. Why didn't you reassume your original name?"

"I honestly don't remember what it was," Tory replied. "Has anyone explained what happened to me?"

"Yes," Meetra said, "but I didn't realize your memory loss was that profound and persistent. I guess somehow I expected to find you like you were when I last saw you, all those years ago. But you seem different now, happier if you don't mind me saying it."

"You have no idea. These last few weeks ... well, years apparently, have been very instructive. I'm excited to tell you about it."

"And I'm very interested to hear, Revan. Tory. That just feels awkward. Are you sure you don't want me to call you-"

Tory cut her off. "You may be the last person alive who remembers my old name. As I said, even I don't recall it. Tory will do just fine. You'll get used to it."

Meetra looked about. "What is this place? This planet? What happened her? I've never even heard of anything like this."

"Have you learned of the True Sith?" Tory asked.

"Only rumors," Meetra said. "Canderous said you came here to find a way to fight them."

"In part," Tory said. "But it is much more than that. I'll tell you the details when I tell the others. For now, I'll just say that the True Sith, unfortunately, are real and very much alive. And to answer your question about what happened here, all life on this planet was destroyed a thousand years ago in a Dark Side ritual that granted immortal life to Vitiate, the Emperor of the True Sith. Ten centuries have not dampened the atrocity that Vitiate did to this place. These buildings, the clothes I'm sure you saw lying outside, have all sat silent, untouched and forgotten, for a millennia."

Meetra took a moment to process what she had just heard. What would it be like to fight an enemy of this magnitude? Darth Nihilus had been capable of destroying planets, but his hunger had ultimately been his weakness. Did this Vitiate even have a weakness? "We should get moving," Meetra finally said. "The Hawk will be back shortly to pick us up."

"We have a little time," Tory said. "There's something important we need to talk about first."

"And that is?" Meetra asked.

"You," Tory said. "Atris said you were a 'Wound in the Force'. Jolee thought that would mean you couldn't feel the Force. But you always had such a strong ability to connect with others. Yuthura thought you might have retained that, and Bastila thought it might in fact be the only way you were still able to feel the Force. Were they right?"

"Rev- Tory," Meetra said. "They told me you came to this place, at least in part, looking for a way to help me. You didn't have to do that. I don't know how you've survived here. The crew could barely tolerate this place long enough to drop me off. In fact, I don't know how you're standing here now, seemingly unaffected."

"You're avoiding the question," Tory said. "There's no reason to be ashamed. As for me, this place no longer has any power over me. But I see that you're unaffected too, and for very different reasons. And I suppose that tells me all I need to know."

"The Jedi Council said I was an aberation," Meetra said reluctantly. "While you were here on Nathema, I battled the remnants of the Sith left after Malak's death-"

"The Sith that I created and trained, you mean," Tory said. "So that's what I felt earlier. I'm sorry for that. I'm glad you were there to clean up after me, but you shouldn't have had to."

"Regardless," Meetra said, "in the process of defeating them, I killed dozens, maybe hundreds of them. The Jedi Council said I used my ability to form connections to draw strength from those deaths, in order to increase my own power. They said I used this same ability to dominate the minds of those who traveled with me, forcing them to fight and kill for me, even against their own natures. They told me that the wound I represented must be sealed, because otherwise I was a danger to all Jedi, that I could maybe even be the end of the Force itself. Things happened, and that was never resolved."

Meetra paused a moment, collecting herself. The gathering fear that had been pulling at her since her encounter with the Jedi Council finally coalesced into a coherent thought, and it poured out of her in a rush. "What if they were right? What if I really am a danger to all life? Maybe Nathema could conceal that, suppress it. Maybe when you leave this place with the others, I should stay."

Tory looked at Meetra for a long moment, then placed her hands gently on the sides of Meetra's head, her eyes closed. Meetra started to speak, but Tory shushed her. They stood that way in silence for several long minutes. Finally, Tory stepped back.

"Fools!" she shouted, her voice sharp with fury, and Meetra was reminded of the Revan she recalled from the Mandalorian Wars. "They're dead now, right? And the galaxy is better off without them!" Tory looked at the ceiling for a moment. When she looked back at Meetra, her anger had softened, but her expression was no less intense.

"You were and are the Force's salvation, not its destruction. Your ability allows the Light to be amplified, multiplied in ways the damn Council never imagined. Atris was wrong. You killed her, didn't you? And well done. You were never a 'Wound in the Force'. You were its bandage. The Force itself was rent apart at Malachor V. And you stepped in, sacrificing yourself to cover that wound, disconnecting yourself from the rest of the galaxy so it couldn't spread, carrying the wound with you, protecting all of us. The burden you still carry isn't all the death from Malachor. You've already come to terms with that. The burden you carry is holding together the torn edges of the Force. Had the Council separated you from the Force as they intended, they might have doomed the galaxy by leaving the wound unprotected. They could have caused the very thing they feared. What they should have done is join you in healing it. But we'll take care of that now."

Tory spread her arms wide and wrapped them around a surprised Meetra, holding her in a tight embrace. She pressed her forehead to Meetra's, Tory's dark eyes blazing with a luminescent power. Suddenly Meetra felt a rushing sensation flood her body, filling her soul. It reminded her of when Juhani had healed her, so long ago, in Wild Space, her first sensation of the Force after years of its absence. But this feeling was far beyond that, multiplied exponentially. Meetra's entire being overflowed with glory and presence, as Tory fed the Force to her in waves, a river of strength and energy. At some point, Meetra realized they were both laughing out loud, their laughter reverberating off the distant walls and ceiling. They continued their embrace for some time, and when they finally separated, Meetra could barely stop giggling.

"What did you just do to me?" she said, unable to stop smiling long enough to properly speak.

"You're free," Tory said. "You and I have a strong connection, forged through our past battles together. I used it to pour the Force into you, and through that strength we completed healing the wound. You'll never feel the Force in the same way you did before Malachor. Regrettably, that cannot be reversed. But you are no longer protecting us from the death of the Force. That burden, at least, is gone. You see, as usual, the Jedi Council had all the facts and drew the wrong conclusions. The reason you were growing stronger wasn't the death you were causing. It was because the Force, protected by you, was healing. And as you drew closer to your companions, your connections to them allowed you to accelerate its healing even more. As that happened, less and less of your strength was required to keep the wound closed. The Meetra Surik that faced the Sith Lords wasn't some sort of Force vampire, fueled by life you'd drained from others. Far from it. The Meetra Surik that faced them was the person you already were, the person who was almost lost at Malachor, but who was finally able to reemerge. "

"Thank you," was all that Meetra could manage to say.

"No, thank you," Tory said. "You saved the Force and not one damn person you stood before, not the Council, not Atris, not Kreia, nobody even realized it. Thank you, Meetra. And just for the record, you are an exile no more. If anyone has a problem with that, they'll have me to deal with!"

"I know this feeling won't last, at least not at this level," Meetra said. "But feeling the Force like this, is this what it always feels like to be you?"

Tory simply smiled. "Come on, our ship is on its way," she said, and began jogging towards the door.

The two women ran toward the open area, their footsteps clattering loudly in the silence. Meetra was still giddy, and it was all she could do to not skip. As they approached the rendezvous point, a small dark dot appeared in the sky. It quickly grew, and the Ebon Hawk touched down, its loading ramp already opening. They charged up the loading ramp, the ship already lifting off again.

Inside, instead of making her way towards the central room or the cockpit, Tory turned the other direction and sprinted to the starboard barracks, Meetra following. As they entered the room, Meetra saw Visas lying on the floor, twitching, her mouth opening and closing breathlessly, her skin turning blue. Jolee sat nearby, steadying himself as if in danger of collapse. He was trying to reach Visas, but appeared to not have the strength to move himself.

"I tried..." Jolee said. "It's just too much..." He stopped mid-sentence and doubled over, clutching his stomach.

Tory knelt beside Visas and put a hand behind her head. Visas' hood had fallen back, revealing the vestigial eye sockets common to her species. Meetra was momentarily struck by this. In all their travels together, she didn't think Visas had ever allowed Meetra to see the top half of her face. Like other Miraluka, Visas saw through the Force rather than through natural sight. Tory paid none of this any mind, instead gently cradling Visas in her lap and whispering softly to her. Slowly, the Miraluka's skin regained some of its color, but she still gasped and shivered. Without releasing Visas, Tory reached behind her and grasped Jolee's hand. The elderly man took a slow, deep breath and raised himself to a full sitting position.

"It's easier with you," Tory said, half-turning to Jolee. "We already have a connection. But I've never met her before, and with her in this state it's challenging to create one. Meetra, can you help bridge that gap? One hand on me and one on her."

Meetra bent down uncertainly, unsure what to do. She positioned herself as Tory had directed and, for lack of anything more specific to try, attempted to focus on both of them, recalling their times together, reaching out to each of them. As she did so, Visas body relaxed and she began breathing normally.

"That's better," Tory said. She released Jolee's hand, easily scooped up the now-sleeping Miraluka, and carried her back to the medbay, swaying only slightly when the ship lurched into hyperspace. "She'll be fine soon," Tory said after lying Visas on the bed and carefully repositioning her hood over her eye sockets. "Meetra, let's check on the others."

Jolee stayed with Visas while Meetra and Tory walked to the cockpit, where they found Atton in the pilot's seat and Yuthura in the copilot's seat. T3, who was standing near the dataport, squealed in delight when Tory entered the room. The small droid rushed to her, almost bowling her over, continuing to beep and whistle excitedly.

"No, you did the right thing," Tory said to the astrotech droid. "You didn't know how long I would be in the trance, or if I would ever wake up." The droid responded with another series of beeps.

"I don't know why people keep repairing him either," Tory said, "but he's very helpful sometimes."

As if on cue, HK-47 walked into the cockpit. "Exhilaration: it is so very good to see you again, Master! I will immediately-"

"Meetra is my friend and you will do nothing to harm her," Tory said. "There is nothing wrong with having a living former Master. But I am happy to have you back in my service."

"You're not the only one," Meetra muttered under her breath. Then to Atton and Yuthura, "How did the two of you fare with touching down on Nathema?"

"I did poorly," Yuthura said. "If I hadn't been strapped in, I might have collapsed. I recovered reasonably quickly, though. Atton, fortunately, seemed almost unaffected."

"I just focused on what needed doing," Atton said. "We really weren't there long."

Tory looked at Atton curiously for a long moment, then finally said "Well done, then. You're certainly resilient. Can you prepare to take the ship out of hyperspace? We all need to talk."

"Course is locked in, and it'll fly just fine without me in the seat," Atton said. "I'd feel better if we put some more distance behind us before making any unscheduled stops."

"We're going the wrong way, though," Tory said. "We need to return to Nathema." Atton raised an eyebrow, but did not object. Instead, he reached for the controls. "Oh, and plot the return course before disengaging the hyperdrive," Tory added. "It never hurts to be prepared to jump right back into hyperspace, just in case."

"I like you already," Atton said as he began the new calculations.

Tory turned to Yuthura. "I'm glad you're here. The last few years couldn't have been easy for you."

"We continued the path you put us on," Yuthura said. "We just walked it without you a little longer than we expected."

Atton took the Hawk out of hyperspace and the group moved to the central room, leaving T3 in the cockpit to alert them if any other ships approached, and returning HK-47 to the gun turret, mostly to keep him occupied. Meetra had informed Jolee and Visas of their stop and impending return, and as the others entered from the cockpit, Jolee and Visas came up the hall from the medbay. Visas walked directly to Tory, her head bowed reverently, and dropped to one knee, her head still bowed.

"The mighty Revan, my Master's Master, greatest of the Jedi and greatest of the Sith, I am your servant," Visas said, her voice trembling with awe. "To you I offer the same oath that I swore to my Master: my life is yours."

Tory looked awkwardly at Meetra, unsure what to do.

Meetra shrugged. "I can't make her stop," she mouthed silently.

Tory grinned, winked at Meetra, then addressed Visas. "Thank you, faithful one," Tory said. "I accept your oath with honor. But I would not deprive your Master of your loyal service. I will hold your oath fulfilled by your continued obedience to her. In serving her, you will serve me."

"As you say, so shall it be," Visas said.

Meetra rolled her eyes and walked to the other side of the room. But Tory continued looking at Visas, now more seriously. After a moment, she dropped to one knee, joining the Miraluka. Visas tried to object, but Tory stopped her. "You will make it through this," Tory said. "As you survived Katarr, so shall you survive Nathema. And though you are the sole survivor of your planet, you are not the last of your kind in the galaxy. When the time is right, we will find them together."

Visas deepened her bow, further inclining her head. "As with Nathema, all life on my homeworld was destroyed. But unlike Nathema, Katarr's death echoes still. Though it holds no life, Katarr is not incompatible with it. Nathema, though, is a void, an absent place where life cannot survive. I will go with you, but I do not know how we will endure."

"That's the question you're all asking, isn't it?" Tory said to the group. "Why, having escaped this place, am I returning us to it?" She paused, looking at each face, seeing nods of agreement.

"Think of the Force as a river," Tory said. "It sustains and moves all things. Most people live their lives in boats, floating on top of the river. It holds them up, directs them down its path. But they never make personal contact with it. As Force-sensitive individuals, you are different. Each of you lives in the river's waters. It is always present, in any direction you reach. Both Jedi and Sith are taught to 'use' the Force, to command its strength as your own. Sith are taught to do this in a dominating fashion, imposing their will and desire on the Force to increase their personal power. Jedi are taught to do this in a dispassionate way, acting for the benefit of all life instead of for personal gain. But make no mistake, Jedi are taught to command the Force as well. The difference between the Sith and the Jedi is one of intention, not of type.

"And it is no surprise. Once you were fully awakened to the Force, wasn't it just so easy? It was everywhere, it surrounded you, penetrated you. You could, and still can, feel it between you and every other creature and thing in the galaxy. If you think back on your Jedi training, you'll realize very little of your training was actually about how to use the Force. That part came naturally. Once you were aware that a technique was possible, it was almost difficult to not do it. No, most of your training was really about mental discipline, about controlling your own emotions and desires, so that you could use the Force in a responsible manner.

"The problem is, the Force isn't just a river, and you shouldn't be using it at all. At least, not in that manner. What were you taught about the origins of the Force, about its source? You were taught that life creates it, just as it sustains life, in a never-ending circle. But how does life create it? What does that mean for us? If the Force is a river, each of you is a spring. Each of you is actually creating the Force, right here, right now. All life, from the largest tree on Kashyyyk to the smallest microbe does this. But as Force-sensitive individuals, you are practically a fountain. The Force gushes from you into the galaxy.

"Which is why you can't use it, not in the way you were taught. You see, when you use the Force in the traditional way, you pull from it, you redirect it from its path to the path that you impose on it. Using the river metaphor, you cause splashes, waves. The river is no longer peaceful. If you take a small action, like using the Force to lift a rock or close a door, you make only a small ripple, and there's no real harm done. But what we've seen in war after war, conflict after conflict, is what happens when these many small actions build on each other. The additive effects of so many Force-sensitive individuals manipulating the river causes large waves, dangerous flows, rapids that can crush those who should be peacefully floating on top of the river.

"Kreia called these echoes," Meetra said. "Her goal was to build an echo large enough to destroy the Force itself, or at least deafen the galaxy to it."

"That analogy also works, and she was right," Tory said. "I fear that such a thing is indeed possible, that someone could create a wave, or echo if you prefer, large enough to swamp the whole galaxy. I'm very grateful to those of you who stopped her. And I still have no memory of most of my past, but from what I've learned I was perhaps more guilty of this than any other person in recent history, with the possible exception of Kae. Kreia. Darth Traya. Whichever name you prefer. You see, it wasn't just my own strength in the Force at play. I realize I'm more powerful than most, but even I could not hope to move the galaxy in my own strength. But I manipulated the energy, focus, and direction of much of the Jedi Order. At one point, my decisions were affecting the actions of virtually every Force-sensitive individual in the known galaxy. I didn't see the danger at the time. But through the collective arrangement of all these people, my choices caused massive waves, enormous echoes, that even now have not completely died. And trillions of lives suffered for it."

"We couldn't have let the Mandalorians win, though," Meetra said. "I don't find measuring relative suffering very comforting - I've seen close up the effects that the collateral damage of our actions caused. But I can't get past the fact that even more would have suffered had we not acted."

"No, we couldn't have," Tory said. "We were right to act. But we acted in the wrong way. We fought with the weapons we knew, but what I've come to understand is that there is a better way. It is slower to learn, less natural to perform, at least at first, and requires even more discipline. But I believe it is more powerful. Far more powerful. And I also believe that it follows the will of the Force.

"We've all heard of special places, places strong in the Force, where Jedi can do extraordinary things. The Star Forge was such a place for the Sith. The power of the Dark Side was incredible there. Jolee can attest to that. In such places, a Force-sensitive person can much more easily draw on the strength of the Force all around them, use it much more readily, much more powerfully. Dantooine was in some ways a similar place for the Jedi. Less concentrated, less intense, but still a place of strength. That's why the Jedi chose to locate their training academy there.

"Imagine if you could carry such a place with you, if everywhere you went granted you that sort of power. I think you can. Because the strength isn't in the place, it is in each other. When share our strength with others, through the connections that we've formed, we become that special place for them. We become something new, something that might be unstoppable.

"Now, why Nathema? The reason that Nathema affects you so much is because you're used to living in the river. But Nathema is a desert. Throughout each day, without even realizing it, you draw on the Force around you, on the river, for strength. This is even more pronounced when you're in need, in danger, in battle. Think of a time when you were surprised by an enemy. Prior to that moment, you felt as you normally do. But almost instantly, you felt the Force flowing into you, almost charging you, and suddenly you were ready for action in a way that you could never be in your ordinary physical self. What you did in those moments, whether you realize it or not, was to pull in the strength of the Force around you.

"On Nathema, the Force is not available for you to pull from. When you sensed that, the strangeness of it, the danger it seemed to pose, you instinctively did what you always do. You tried to draw on the Force, to pull it into yourself in preparation for whatever was to come. But because it was absent, you could not. Imagine you were holding your breath with your lungs empty, then just as you could stand it no more you opened your mouth to breath in, only to find the room you were in had become a vacuum. That's what Nathema was to you. And like a desert draws the moisture from your body, Nathema draws the Force, the very life, from you.

"But you are a fountain. You do not know this, because you have always let the Force flow freely from you. Yet as I said, each of you is creating it, moment by moment, even now. And here is the secret: that is true even on Nathema. What you must learn is to regulate the flow of the Force from you. This will seem strange, because you have only ever learned to regulate the flow of the Force into you. But when you learn to do this, Nathema will hold no terror for you. Even there, you can sustain yourself using only the strength of the Force that you yourself create, simply by living.

"That's the first step, but beyond it there's even more. You must learn to give. As wave builds upon wave, or as echo amplifies echo, when we give the Force to each other, share its strength from one of us to another, the sum is more than the parts. If I give to you, and you give to me in return, we are not two, we are four. Maybe more. Maybe much more. In this way, we can be far stronger than we ever were before. In times past, you used the Force by taking. I will teach you to use it by giving. And you are not even prepared to begin understanding what that will do for you." Tory looked around at each face, seeing a mixture of hope, doubt, confusion, and the beginnings of comprehension.

Yuthura spoke first. "There are ... I wish I didn't remember this, but I do ... there are Sith techniques for draining the strength of others and making it your own. It is a violation of a very personal sort. It requires incredible willpower to overcome the victim's resistance. At first, when you mentioned gaining strength through connections, this is what I thought of. But you speak of a very different sort of connection. What you described is voluntary, willing, a gift and not a theft."

"You're right," Tory said. "That's it exactly. We are gifts to each other. I'm sorry for what you went through, Yuthura. The Sith who taught you that were of my making. But now I offer you something far better. And Meetra is the key." Every head in the room swiveled to look at Meetra, who looked back at them, dumbfounded.

"I'm the key?" she said. "I don't see how anything you've said applies to me. I'm the only person in here who can't feel the Force. I have no connection to it. How can I be the key to anything?"

"Think about it for a moment," Tory said, "When you say you have no connection to the Force, what do you really mean?"

"I can't feel it," Meetra said, "except through others. I can't draw on it, except via my connections to ... oh. That's it isn't it? In a way, my condition has compelled me to do what you're trying to teach us. On Nathema, my condition isn't a disadvantage. It's a shield, protecting me from the planet, preventing it from drawing away the Force, the life, that I myself am generating."

"Exactly," Tory said. "In this situation, the condition you thought was a curse turned out to be a blessing. You've been hoping there was a way to make you like the rest of us again. I intend the opposite. I intend to make the rest of us like you. I've already learned how to do this. That's why I was unaffected when I came out of my trance. The rest of you can learn too.

"And your ability to form connections was always your gift. You do it like no other I've encountered, even myself. This remains undiminished in you. It took me years in a trance to learn to survive on Nathema, but the rest of you will learn it in hours. Here's how: Meetra and I have a strong bond, forged through our intense past together. On the planet, I will feed the Force into her, and she will share it with you. There are many of you, and normally I do not believe I could sustain so many. But in giving in this way, the Force will multiply, and through Meetra I will be able to sustain all of you as you learn to shield yourself from the planet. You'll learn to stop taking from the river. Instead, you'll develop the ability to control when and how much you give back to it. When you are comfortable on the planet, and are able to give back to Meetra instead of sustaining yourself through her, you will be ready."

Tory looked around again at the group. There was more understanding, but doubt remained.

Jolee spoke next. "Go back to the bit about the splashes, about how we affect the Force by using it in the way we've learned. What you're saying is that if I sit down in my chair and then realize that I left my drink on the other side of the room, I can't use the Force to bring it to me?"

"You can ask the Force to bring it to you," Tory said. "The cup containing your drink flows with the river. You can encourage the river to bring it to you. The Force still listens to you. But you can't command it."

"Even if I can feel the Force between myself and the glass?" Jolee asked.

"Does the drink have a will?" asked Tory.

"I suppose not," answered Jolee.

"Then the drink cannot offer to you the ability to bring it to you. You cannot take, you can only give, and be given to," said Tory.

"So if the Force isn't in the mood to bring me my drink, I have to get up and walk back across the damn room to get it myself?" Jolee asked.

"That's right," said Tory with a smile. "That's what the teaching says."

"Sounds like the philosophy of a young person to me," grumbled Jolee.

"What you will learn, what you will gain," Tory said, "is a greater understanding of and compliance with the will of the Force. In the past, you may have sought the will of the Force, tried to understand or interpret it, hoped you were getting it right. But because you commanded it, you did not know. Now, every power you exercise will be within the will of the Force, because you simply cannot exercise power otherwise."

"Long have I felt the Force's currents", Visas said. "They are my very sight. Such is the way of my people. But always have I been taught to guide them. I would flow with them, as you say. I will dedicate myself to your teaching."

"Let's try it," Tory said. "Right here, right now. We need to practice before we return to the planet." Tory directed Visas, Yuthura, Jolee, and Atton to sit in a square, and placed herself and Meetra at its center, seated, facing each other.

"Atton, Jolee, Yuthura, Visas, I want each of you to close your minds to the ship, to the space beyond it, to the rest of the galaxy. Open your minds only to Meetra. Meetra, I want you to reach out to each of them, and to me. As I give strength to you, give it in turn to them, as you did with Visas in the barracks earlier. Let us begin."

They all closed their eyes and followed Tory's direction. Moments later, each face split into a large grin. Only Atton seemed less affected, his expression still closed. After a few more moments, they each opened their eyes, curious if the others were sharing their experience. They remained in that posture for some time, giving and sharing. Finally, Tory broke the connection.

"It is time to go back to Nathema," she said.

As they neared the planet, Tory guided them through a few details. As they'd already ascertained that the planet was deserted, they would let T3 pilot the ship. They would land in the same open area they'd used before. They would begin on the ship, assuming their previous positions. However, because the ship would insulate them from some effects of the planet, it would eventually be necessary to move onto the surface of Nathema itself. When they were ready, they would walk in a group back into the warehouse and resume their positions. They would remain there until they were complete.

While they milled about, talking amongst themselves, Meetra noticed Jolee whisper something to Tory. Tory nodded, and her eyes narrowed slightly as she glanced at Atton, who was facing the other direction. But before Meetra could ask Tory or Jolee about it, Atton turned and began talking to them, recounting his encounter with the Twi'lek bounty hunter sisters in the cantina on Nar Shaddaa. Meetra was looking for a way to inconspicuously pull Jolee or Tory to the side when Tory spoke.

"It is almost time. Let's assume our positions."

They resumed their previous places, with Tory directing Visas to sit closest to her. As the ship exited hyperspace, Visas gasped and her face turned ashen, but she maintained her place. The others wore expressions ranging from pain to discomfort, but they also stayed seated. Their expressions intensified as the swaying of the ship told them they were descending into Nathema's atmosphere, but Tory encouraged them.

"The ship does not exist. The planet does not exist. All that exists is Meetra. Focus on her, open your minds to her as she gives to you."

The gentle settling of the Hawk onto its landing gear indicated they had arrived. Yuthura's purplish skin was tinged with an uncomfortable green. Atton's breathing was slow and steady. Jolee's hands trembled slightly as he quietly murmured "gizka ... gizka ... gizka."

Visas, however, began to shift from hardship to distress. Her breathing became fast and shallow and she struggled to remain seated, fighting the panicked urge to run pointlessly like someone choking. Tory, sensing her plight, reached backward and grasped Visas' hand. Slowly, the Miraluka's breathing slowed again, and color began returning to her face.

Still unaffected by the planet, Meetra enjoyed the sensation of the Force flowing through her from Tory to the others. It was unlike her previous experiences, either before her disconnection from the Force, or in the times afterward when the Force had flowed into her from another. In some ways, it was even better than when Tory had poured the Force into her in the warehouse. Then, she had felt like a balloon, filled almost to bursting. Now, though, the Force rushed through her uninhibited as she enjoyed its currents.

After a long time, each of them looked about, Meetra first, then Tory, then the others. Their indications of discomfort had calmed, and each seemed at ease. "Let us move to the warehouse," Tory said. "Continue receiving the Force from Meetra, as I continue to provide it."

The short walk took them quite some time. Physical activity threated to disrupt their focus, and they had to pause several times for everyone to steady themselves. At one point, Visas was again in jeopardy, but Tory placed a hand on each of her shoulders and focused on her until she was again able to continue.

Eventually, they made it to the warehouse and resumed their seated positions. They sat that way for an hour, then two. Sensing that everyone was doing well, Tory encouraged them to stand and move about, still maintaining their connections.

Visas tried stood unsteadily, then sat back down. Yet her breathing was steady and when she spoke her voice was calm. "How is it that you can sustain us all for so long?" she asked Tory.

"It isn't all me," Tory said. "Remember, you are a fountain. Your ability to shield yourself from the planet is not yet perfect, but it is forming. You are doing more yourself than you know. And remember also, giving the Force multiplies it. What all of you receive is greater than what I give. Yes, I do have my limits, but we are not yet in danger. We can linger awhile longer."

"We are not yet what we need to be, are we?" Yuthura asked.

"Not yet," Tory said. "But we have come far. We will leave soon, and fly some distance away from here where I can safely recover my strength. We can return in a few days to complete the lesson."

"What is this place?" Visas asked. "What happened to this planet?"

"I promised Meetra an answer to that question earlier," Tory said. "Please bear with me, this will sound something like a history lesson, but it is relevant."

"Please proceed," Visas said. The others gathered closer to hear as well.

"Do you know who Ajunta Pall is?" Tory asked.

"His tomb is on Korriban," Meetra said. "We saw the entrance to it, along with the entrances to the tombs of Tulak Hord, Marka Ragnos, and Naga Sadow."

"It was in the tomb of Naga Sadow that Revan restored me to the Light" Yuthura said.

Tory ignored Yuthura's use of the name 'Revan' and continued her explanation. "Ajunta Pall was the first Dark Lord over what we have been calling the True Sith. Around three thousand years ago, he was responsible for a civil war that split the Jedi Order for a hundred years. Eventually, he was defeated and banished, along with a group of his followers. They wandered the Outer Rim, eventually coming on a world that was home to a technologically primitive Force Sensitive species. The planet was Korriban, and the species was the Sith."

"The Sith were originally a species and not a belief system?" Jolee asked.

"Of course," Atton said.

Tory looked at him curiously, then continued. "The Sith species, as it turns out, had learned of the Dark Side of the Force about twenty thousand years prior from the Rakata, the same species who built the Star Forge that Jolee and our other companions helped destroy. But the Sith species in the time of Pall, while advanced in their knowledge of the Dark Side, had never developed advanced technology even resembling that of Pall. He eventually assumed control over them and founded the first real Sith Empire. Tulak Hord, also entombed on Korriban, was a later Dark Lord in the line of rulers that led, around a thousand years ago, to Marka Ragnos and his successor Naga Sadow. Sadow attacked the Republic in the the Great Hyperspace War. The Sith were soundly defeated, their power broken, and Sadow was forced into exile."

"Did something happen to Nathema during this war?" Yuthura asked.

"No," Tory said. "It was afterward. Thousands of Sith Lords were summoned by an obscure Sith academic named Tenebrae to his home planet of Medriaas to determine the fate of the Sith Empire. Medriaas was a lush agricultural world, rich with life. Unknown to these Sith Lords, the meeting was a trap, laid by Tenebrae, who was in fact a Sith Lord of unprecedented, almost inconceivable power. Tenebrae performed what was perhaps the most complex, darkest ritual in the history of the galaxy. He drained all life from not only the thousands of Sith Lords, but from the planet itself, leaving it a lifeless husk and granting himself immortal life. He took the name Vitiate and led the remaining True Sith into the Outer Regions where, under his continuing leadership, they have since reformed the Empire. Vitiate has not forgotten the Republic, and still longs to see it fall. But to answer the question about what happened here, you now stand on the surface of Medriaas, which is now known as Nathema. A thousand years has not dampened the atrocity that Vitiate did to this place. These buildings, the clothes you saw lying outside, have all sat silent, untouched and forgotten, for a millennia, a testament to his evil."

"So what you're saying," Atton said, "is that you, Malak, Sion, Nihilus, Traya ... none of you were really Sith. The real Sith, and the real Sith Emperor, have been out there all the time. You were just imitators, borrowing some of their beliefs."

"I hadn't thought about it that way," Tory said, "but I guess that's right."

"I don't even know what to say to all that," Jolee said.

"How did you learn all this?" Meetra asked. "You were always well-informed, but since we found you, it seems you're operating on an entirely new plane. And I have to say it, while you seem nothing like a Sith, you also don't seem much like a Jedi."

"Some of it I learned from the datacron on Rekkiad," Tory said. "But also recall that I've been in deep meditation, communicating with the Force for several years uninterrupted. The Force revealed many things to me, and that is still continuing. And yes, I'm less concerned with labels than I think I used to be, and more concerned with the Force."

"Yet with all that you didn't learn your own name?" Meetra said. "That really doesn't bother you at all?"

"It doesn't," Tory said. "The most important thing I learned is that I'm unimportant. But we should conclude our time here. I'll be nearing my limits soon."

Atton and Jolee had walked in the general direction of the exit. "I'm doing pretty well," Atton said. "Before we go, I think I'll walk outside for a few minutes and look around."

Tory glanced meaningfully at Jolee, then spoke to Atton. "Wait," she said. "You need to tell us the rest."

"The rest of what?" Atton asked. Meetra recognized it as the same innocent tone he often employed when hiding something.

"The rest of your past. Whatever it is you're not saying," Tory said. "Whatever you are." Meetra noticed that Jolee had quietly circled behind Atton and was now standing between Atton and the door.

"You know what I am," Atton said. "At least, you should. You know everything else without being told. And if you don't, she does." Atton gestured toward Meetra, then turned back to Tory. "But I'll say it out loud if you want to hear it. I worked for the Sith under Darth Malak. Under you. I hunted and killed Jedi. Even Padawans. Especially Padawans. Is that good enough, now? I left that all behind a long time ago. You of all people should understand having a past. Now, I'm going outside."

"No," Tory said, "that's not it. That's the shield you use to hide the truth. You think it's shocking enough that no one will question it. But that's not who you are. Who are you Atton? Who are you, really?" Tory closed her eyes, concentrating, focused on Atton.

"You're crazy," Atton said turning around.

"Don't leave, Atonbrae," Tory said. "Or do you prefer Lord Brand? That's what the True Sith call you, is it not?"

AUTHOR'S NOTE: The fan fiction concludes in KOTOR 2 - Connections: Reborn.