Tol-Mar chapter 1

Light flickered in the dark brown eyes, flickered across a face contorted in grief and betrayal. A hand pushed two strands of deep brown hair out of those eyes, those angry eyes. Carth sat staring at the fire, tears of anger, betrayal grief and pain, had long since finished flowing and were now dried up beds that ran down his face.

He had recovered Mission's body and had buried her on the cliff top, overlooking the ocean. Hopefully she'd like that. He had finally persuaded the Rakatan to allow him into the Temple to find Jolee and Juhani's bodies. Hopefully they'd appreciate a grave with an ocean view too.

It didn't seem right, having to pick up and carry the corpses of his friends. They became corpses because of another friend: Tol-Mar, or Revan as he called himself now. Carth had been so sure that Tol was going to stay on the light side of the Force, guess he was wrong.

Tol. He'd always moaned at Carth for calling him that. The pair would have so many fights... and they always ended with at least one of them in tears. Tol was good at making people laugh. Tol was good at sorting things, smoothing down rough edges. He'd settled the fight between Carth and Dustil, his son.

Dustil... Carth hadn't seen his son since the crew of the Hawk left Korriban. He wondered if his son was alright. More to the point, he wondered how angry Dustil would be when he went to Telos to find his father, and his father wasn't there. Carth sucked at keeping promises.

It didn't seem fair to Carth that Force had given him this life. What had he done to deserve this? He had been faithful to Morgana, a good father to Dustil, a great asset to the Republic... but the Republic had always come first.

In frustration, Carth kicked dust at the fire. It was pointless, he knew it, but it made him feel better. However, the elation was short lived as the dust settled and the fire went out.

I am Tol-Mar, a Jedi to the end. But I no longer have control; I am no longer myself. Don't believe that you can control me forever, Revan. One day I will break free, and you will fall into oblivion. I don't care if what I'm saying isn't very Jedi of me, I just want you gone. So go on, feel secure in my body, let your defences down. I will be the source of every problem that you suffer. So go on, feel safe. Use it as you will. I will gain control one day, and you will never know it.

Spinning... why was everything spinning....? The walls were spinning, the floor was spinning, the speeders outside the window were spinning. Everything... spinning.

Dustil covered his eyes and laughed painfully. All this spinning was making him feel sick. Was everything around him spinning, or was it him? He didn't care, he didn't care about a lot these days.

Thud! He opened his eyes in shock. Why was he now staring at the ceiling? Turning his head slightly, he saw that he had landed himself on the floor. At least that was now a solid surface. But everything was still spinning.

Damn! He shouldn't have taken so much yarrock. But unfortunately, time with the Sith had upped his resistance to drugs, so he had to take more anyway. Any normal person would have died from OD within two minutes... he'd taken the spice more than an hour ago.

Why had he started taking spice in the first place? Right, his father had never shown up on Telos. He gone tearing everything about his father down, swearing that he hoped his father was dead... and then found out he was.

Five days before Dustil had come to Telos, Carth had been killed defending the Republic against the newly arisen Revan. He had given his life to prevent Revan from rising to power, but had instead been killed by a member of his own strike force.

Dustil thought back to the man he'd met on Korriban; he didn't seem like his father at all. He was old, weary, but had a look of desperate hope. The other guy had managed to calm him down long enough to see the pain that flowed out from his father. He didn't understand what kind of pain it was, not then. But now he did.

Dustil closed his eyes. Things were so much easier when you couldn't see them. Plus darkness couldn't spin.

"Dustil, Dustil, Dustil," came an almost patronising voice. "What will your father say when he sees you like this?"

Feeling annoyed at the interruption and insulted with the guy who thought he could patronise him, Dustil scowled and opened his eyes. Ceiling, again. He moved his vision around until he found a shadow on the wall. A shadow that wasn't attached to an object, or was it an object without a shadow?

"I never expected you to become a spice addict," the voice wasn't patronising, but disappointed.

"Yeah? Trying living my life and see how well you do," Dustil croaked.

"Try living mine."

Dustil frowned and stared back at the shadow. The shape seemed familiar, but he was too far away and his sight was too blurry for him to see the figure right. So, slowly getting up, Dustil staggered towards the figure, the shadow. Once the figure came into focus, he stopped.

It was the other guy, the man who'd come to Korriban with his father. The black hair was tied back into a tail, like a girl's. The face seemed sad, and tense, struggling even.

"Were we ever introduced?" Dustil asked.

"Probably not. The name's Tol-Mar, although Carth always called me Tol."

"How did you get in?"

"I didn't," Tol answered plainly. His eye twitched.

"Well, you weren't here earlier-"

"I'm not really here now," Tol interrupted. "I'm using Force Projection for you to see me. Dustil, I need your help."

Dustil narrowed his eyes suspiciously. The figure seemed real, and sincere. But... something wasn't quite right.

"Dustil, I need you to..." Tol's eyes suddenly widened in shock and pain. "Frack!"

Tol fell to the floor, his arms wrapped around his stomach. He flung his head up to stare at Dustil in a wild fashion.

"Dustil! I am Tol-Mar. No matter what anyone says..." His face contorted in pain. "Tell Carth... tell Carth that I'm still here. Tell Him!"

"Father's dead. Killed by a member of his strike force."

"No... he's... he's... on Rakata Prime. Near the... Star... Forge... Find it, please," Tol begged. "Help... me..."

Then Tol-Mar's hair appeared to disappear then reappear, going from long to short, back to long. His clothes changed from a Jedi robe to Sith uniform, and back again. It was like a flicker show of the same person in different costumes. Then, as if he had never existed, Tol-Mar vanished.