[OOC] Fanfic
Feb. 9th, 2008 07:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
organicmeatbagThese contain major spoilers for the KOTOR comic series, including direct quotes from the comics (but only in the first fic). No cpyright infringment intended. These are just my attempts at trying to write some more Revan from that era.
"...And while your report on what you saw at Onderon and Dxun is, of course, disturbing...Nonetheless, you had no business investigating on your own. We're still rebuilding our ranks from the last war. We can't afford this kind of adventurism, even if we were supporting it!"
Master Atris finished her speech and all eyes of the Council were on Revan, each attempting to boar their stern stares into the armor that he had long since crafted about himself. He ignored them all. Their words were said out of ignorance, for not bothering to see what was truly before them.
One day they would though.
"And involving other Knights and Padawans in your 'scouting missions' was simply beyond reproach. And now we learn that some of them were abducted from Suurja before the surprise attack – and after you left for Onderon! A refugee who saw it all told us!"
'A consequence they all were willing to pay,' Revan thought, biting his tongue to keep the words from coming out and biding his time. If he argued such now...
"You will find them and bring them directly back here. No diversion, no delay! There was no place for the Order in the wrangling over the Outer Rim, and there is certainly no place for it in a wider Mandalorian War!"
They dismissed him from the Chamber, a favor, really, to Revan who found their blindness so suffocating, and he could feel their disappointment following him out as though they were asking aloud 'when did we lose him?'.
Vrook was the worst. But then again, he had always been. Revan had nothing but contempt for the older man and the rest of the Council that he may have once admired. They were all misguided hypocrites that –
"Well, we meet again!"
From beneath his hood, Revan glanced up at the group of Jedi standing outside the Chamber doors; Lucien Draay and the rest of his lost gang. But as lost as they were, at least they were not afraid to see.
"I'm sorry we were unable to oblige you on Taris," Lucien was saying. "But I trust you found you investigations enlightening."
"You see that I was right, do you not?" Revan said, continuing to walk past them. "The truth is written in blood."
"I'm sorry – I'm not sure which truth you mean."
Of course not, Revan thought. Lost, they all were, and beyond change.
"Good-bye, Lucien Draay. I have learners to save. The High Council will see you now..."
Alek was trembling in his sleep. A fitful disturbing sleep that brought a frown to Revan's face. He placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. Immediately the Jedi awoke, grabbing Revan's wrist in a vice grip.
Revan took no notice of it. Alek could've stabbed him through with a lightsaber and he wouldn't have noticed it. He imagined it would have been nothing compared to what Alek had gone through. "You were dreaming of Demagol."
Slowly Alek relaxed his grip, sitting up on the bed, the sweat-drenched sheet pooling about his waist. Revan stepped back from the cot, allowing his friend the room to catch his breathes. His hair was starting to grow back, he noted vaguely.
Finally, after what seemed hours, though mere minutes in actuality, of them staring at one another, Alek seemed to calm. "I was."
"Will you-?" Revan started, only to be cut off by the sharp shake of Alek's head. He was never allowed to ask about Flashpoint. He was never allowed to know, other than the brief facts Alek had reported back to him.
"No," Alek said, voicing the rebuke aloud as though to cement it. "What is it that you want, Master?"
Revan frowned. Formality again between them. Nothing new there; since Demagol and his mad experiments, things between Alek and him had been strained. And it was his fault, he knew, for not stopping the abduction, for not reaching them in time.
But this was only the first of many prices that had to be paid.
"I need you to attend a meeting in my place. An Arkanian known as Lord Adasca has invited me to a...party."
Alek blinked. "A party?"
"He has something of value to sell." Revan retrieved a datachip from his robes, holding it out for Alek to see. "I received his invitation and this file the other day. Review it."
Alek's unspoken question hung in the air.
"I'm needed else where, Alek. And this may be...important." He tossed the datachip to Alek, heading toward the bulkhead door.
"Revan?"
There was such informality in Alek's tone that Revan paused without thinking, hesitating at the door. "Yes, Alek?" he prompted when his friend said nothing more. He glanced over his shoulder. Alek had flopped back to the bed, probably intending to get another hour or two of sleep in.
"Nothing," his friend muttered and Revan squared his shoulders once more, slipping out of the room.
Just the first of many, he reminded himself.
"...And while your report on what you saw at Onderon and Dxun is, of course, disturbing...Nonetheless, you had no business investigating on your own. We're still rebuilding our ranks from the last war. We can't afford this kind of adventurism, even if we were supporting it!"
Master Atris finished her speech and all eyes of the Council were on Revan, each attempting to boar their stern stares into the armor that he had long since crafted about himself. He ignored them all. Their words were said out of ignorance, for not bothering to see what was truly before them.
One day they would though.
"And involving other Knights and Padawans in your 'scouting missions' was simply beyond reproach. And now we learn that some of them were abducted from Suurja before the surprise attack – and after you left for Onderon! A refugee who saw it all told us!"
'A consequence they all were willing to pay,' Revan thought, biting his tongue to keep the words from coming out and biding his time. If he argued such now...
"You will find them and bring them directly back here. No diversion, no delay! There was no place for the Order in the wrangling over the Outer Rim, and there is certainly no place for it in a wider Mandalorian War!"
They dismissed him from the Chamber, a favor, really, to Revan who found their blindness so suffocating, and he could feel their disappointment following him out as though they were asking aloud 'when did we lose him?'.
Vrook was the worst. But then again, he had always been. Revan had nothing but contempt for the older man and the rest of the Council that he may have once admired. They were all misguided hypocrites that –
"Well, we meet again!"
From beneath his hood, Revan glanced up at the group of Jedi standing outside the Chamber doors; Lucien Draay and the rest of his lost gang. But as lost as they were, at least they were not afraid to see.
"I'm sorry we were unable to oblige you on Taris," Lucien was saying. "But I trust you found you investigations enlightening."
"You see that I was right, do you not?" Revan said, continuing to walk past them. "The truth is written in blood."
"I'm sorry – I'm not sure which truth you mean."
Of course not, Revan thought. Lost, they all were, and beyond change.
"Good-bye, Lucien Draay. I have learners to save. The High Council will see you now..."
Alek was trembling in his sleep. A fitful disturbing sleep that brought a frown to Revan's face. He placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. Immediately the Jedi awoke, grabbing Revan's wrist in a vice grip.
Revan took no notice of it. Alek could've stabbed him through with a lightsaber and he wouldn't have noticed it. He imagined it would have been nothing compared to what Alek had gone through. "You were dreaming of Demagol."
Slowly Alek relaxed his grip, sitting up on the bed, the sweat-drenched sheet pooling about his waist. Revan stepped back from the cot, allowing his friend the room to catch his breathes. His hair was starting to grow back, he noted vaguely.
Finally, after what seemed hours, though mere minutes in actuality, of them staring at one another, Alek seemed to calm. "I was."
"Will you-?" Revan started, only to be cut off by the sharp shake of Alek's head. He was never allowed to ask about Flashpoint. He was never allowed to know, other than the brief facts Alek had reported back to him.
"No," Alek said, voicing the rebuke aloud as though to cement it. "What is it that you want, Master?"
Revan frowned. Formality again between them. Nothing new there; since Demagol and his mad experiments, things between Alek and him had been strained. And it was his fault, he knew, for not stopping the abduction, for not reaching them in time.
But this was only the first of many prices that had to be paid.
"I need you to attend a meeting in my place. An Arkanian known as Lord Adasca has invited me to a...party."
Alek blinked. "A party?"
"He has something of value to sell." Revan retrieved a datachip from his robes, holding it out for Alek to see. "I received his invitation and this file the other day. Review it."
Alek's unspoken question hung in the air.
"I'm needed else where, Alek. And this may be...important." He tossed the datachip to Alek, heading toward the bulkhead door.
"Revan?"
There was such informality in Alek's tone that Revan paused without thinking, hesitating at the door. "Yes, Alek?" he prompted when his friend said nothing more. He glanced over his shoulder. Alek had flopped back to the bed, probably intending to get another hour or two of sleep in.
"Nothing," his friend muttered and Revan squared his shoulders once more, slipping out of the room.
Just the first of many, he reminded himself.
