Turned to My Cause

 

Turned to My Cause

Emptiness and darkness.

That was what I thought of as I held out my hand and felt the Force grab a hold of Carth Onasi. He sputtered, flailed, gagged, but did not fight me. I let go just as he lost consiousness, and took the time to put him into a deep Force-trance.

Bastila questioned me why I had not simply killed him. I ordered her to bring the man to my chambers instead of the brig, and told her that she would understand in time. But I gave her a single question to whet her curiosity.

What greater weapon is there, I asked her, than to turn an enemy to my cause?

 

-@-

~The First Night~

It is only here, within my chambers, that I allow myself to drop my mantle of authority. And rightly so... I do not mind the people knowing that I am female, but I prefer to keep up an appearance of professionalism. At least in certain areas, anyway. I never liked Malak's treatment of his men, as if they were stock animals lined for slaughter. I relish my authority, but I do not like to rub it in people's faces more than I must. I prefer a degree of subtlety to my actions, a concept that entirely escaped my previous apprentice.

As I now recall, he never really appreciated HK-47 for precisely this reason.

But in my chambers I allowed my obscuring cloak to fall away to reveal my figure. My hood pulled free of my sable-black hair, and I relinquished the mask that was the cold steel of authority for my army and my station. From the heap of clothes that I simply could not be bothered to put away, the figure of a woman emerged and my face became clear for my private world to see.

My face was a point of notice and the fruit of my careful and subtle control of power. The Dark Side of The Force has a way of making itself known on most idiots who attempt to master it. It twists the eyes and the skin into a hideous reflection, marking the user plainly as a power-hungry fool. This was not my approach to the Dark Side of The Force; I preferred subtlety in all things, rather than mad delusions of grandeur. I had all I wanted now; I desired no more. I was free. I was on the top, and I could progress no further. My passions now lay in stability; lay in protecting what I had attained and rescuing it from Malak's idiocy.

I had allowed him to anger me once, and it had cost him his jaw. But reborn... I have learned from that mistake. I see I must direct my passions with care and a surgical touch. And this time, the Dark Side of the Force has let me keep my face. It recognizes that I go about my business correctly this time. I have learned many things from the Jedi, but what I least expected was to learn the true value of tempering myself... and how it brings power even to a Sith.

The Jedi were pathetically weak, I reflect, but not entirely wrong.

A cure for the disease, I smiled to myself, is what I prescribe.

There had been times when I had been tempted to kill without purpose- to act like a beast. That is not the strongest or truest form of the Dark Side, I now realize. That is not worthy of the Sith Lord Revan. No... When I kill now, it is with purpose. I must always gain, for there is nothing to be learned from idle blood spilt. Wanton destruction does not promote an empire. Only guile and purpose do.

I had purpose as I donned my sleeping robe of black silk, sitting by my own bedside. The man lain upon it had not yet begun to stir. He had been stripped to his barest modesty by the medics, and I could not help but follow my eyes as they ran down the strong contours of his body. I did not blame myself; I was human and he was extremely... gifted for his thirty-eight years.

I could see the slight twitch of life spark within him, a soft groan escaping the back of his throat as I heard him lash out at some nightmare in his dreams. Infuriating man! I cursed him quietly as I sat beside him, my gaze alighting on the features of his face. He frustrated me to the point of madness. He was nearly perfect, I thought to myself. Almost. But there were... serious complications in his character that stole him from me. I was rather used to getting my way. And the only thing barring my path was an absurd obstacle in his personality that made him entirely unsuitable for me. His will was too strong to be broken or twisted like that fool Karath... but that was not what I wanted. Frankly, it was his will that endeared him to me: a loyalty and insane drive that would shame any dark acolyte. I wanted that. As Master, I craved such a loyalty I would never find in the ranks of the Sith. Such a thing would be glorious! A perfect weapon indeed, and a plaything I would never tire of.

I could not lose this man… do not judge me because of my character. The day I deny humanity, for all of my power, is the day I shall be slain. This is the shortcoming of all my predecessors. I will deny humanity to the world, cover it with my mask… but after the ordeal the Jedi put me through, I resolved never to deceive myself again.

Rules be damned if I, Darth Revan, am not allowed to appreciate male company. I am Lord of the Sith! I’ll do as I please, and I would absolutely love to see Bastila even attempt to stop me. So I could not help but feel amused as I thought of this man and all of his tortures. I was laughing as I turned off the light and slipped into bed next to his still, unknowing form and as I wrapped my arms around him.

I condemn the old witch Kreia for labeling me a failure. I simply never cared to show the traitorous hag what I learned from her, and that fact was a fruit that I savored. As Darth Revan stalked her cold metal halls, no one would ever suspect that she-I- knew my highest officers from the inside.

This newest addition would make that claim ‘inside and out,’ I savored. Soon, I will cure you of this disease, I thought as I calmed myself and reached out with my mind… farther… and entered his…

To be roughly forced out by a storm of turmoil. I winced in pain as his feverish reflexes jolted, causing him to cry out in his sleep. I almost had been surprised. Sedated as he was, I hardly expected his mind to be so awake when his body and senses slept under the power of my force-stasis. Impetuous boy!

Undaunted, I laid a hand over his bare chest and tried again, this time searching out his steady heartbeat and synchronizing myself in time with it. I was gentler, and he barely noticed me slip inside amidst his own mental storm. Aha, you old hag. And you called me a failure.

What I found was…

…I trusted her I trusted her I trusted her I trusted her I trusted her I trusted her I trusted her…

His mind was a mess. I do not overstate when I say shock had ravaged it completely. I somehow doubted if he would even wake up on his own after I had put him under stasis. Or without my intervention, anyway. He was, in the mental sense of the word, a broken man. Completely. Utterly.

I was satisfied that my plan had worked. The Jedi were cruel, cruel creatures to wipe a mind completely to the deepest corners of the brain, even if they wholly failed in their attempt. No, Darth Revan was hailed for her generosity and understanding among the Sith… at least compared to Malak. I was a generous woman when I had something to gain. I would work with this damaged mind instead of wiping it. After all, what I sought was still there. All of it was there, save for the massive jumbling I had given it… and what was that? A broken heart?

Oh, I could fix that, I reveled. I can fix a broken heart, so long as it is mine in the end. I rather fancied that he would appreciate that which he thought the Jedi had improved me with. I had come full circle. The definition had become the definer.

Slowly, carefully, I took a hold of one of his tangled strings of sanity and tugged it straight. He noticed me now, though he did not know who or what I was. He was barely even sure of who he was. Perfect. When I didn’t budge against his resistance, he must have decided to question me.

Who are you?

Someone very dear to you, I said.

He froze, numb from shock. This was my strategy, after all; he did not notice me tug and alter a few more shreds of his mind. Malak never went to much trouble to produce his admiral… Mundane persuasion had worked there, and produced a wholly mediocre product. As for myself… I liked to play with my toys a little more.

You’re a damn liar! Morgana is dead! The Sith killed her!

The Republic killed your wife.

No! That can’t be true! Saul-!

I felt around a bit deeper, and felt more of him become mine.

The Republic did not hold that scutta Karath close enough. It could not hold Malak or a selfish man. The Republic is at fault, because it failed to control Karath, and that repulsive man was disgustingly blunt in his failure. Your wife suffered, Carth.

It can’t be my fault. I tried- I could have saved her. I… I can’t…

You are not at fault because you were ignorant of the truth. You did not fail her.

Tug. Tug. Tug.

But you must make sure it never happens again.

Who are you?

I smiled as he began to truly fall asleep and ran a finger down the side of his handsome face to celebrate my first triumph over him.

Someone *very* dear to you.

~~The Second Night~~

When I left my quarters that morning, Carth had been asleep. However, my strong stasis was beginning to wear off, and as I entered my quarters I had to mentally assure Bastila that I was all right through our bond. I was met with a cocked blaster, wielded by a mostly-naked man with rage in his eyes. I experienced a moment of pride between his crosshairs- I had successfully repaired his mind into working order, which was no simple feat.

His eyes sat quite well with rage. I could see why I fancied him then and there.

“Don’t move, Revan,” he warned, voice trembling with anger and sorrow. “I’ll- I’ll kill you. You aren’t the woman I loved anymore…”

“This is a fine greeting for the woman who saved your life, Carth Onasi.”

My words stung as expected. He did not fire, but glared at me. “You know, I don’t see it. In between choking the life out of me and killing Mission and Zalbaar, of damning the Republic fleet… I just don’t see it.”

I frowned beneath my mask, though he could not see. He did not fire as I swept past him and out of the door, deeper into my chambers. He followed me, aim true, but trigger hesitant.

“So that’s it. Can’t talk about it, Sith Lord?”

“It was either me or Bastila,” I said as my mask came off. My back was turned to him. “Bastila would have gladly liberated you of your head, if you would have preferred that.”

“To tell you the truth, I wish you’d killed me. Either that or be your toy, and frankly, I’m just not into that.”

I removed my hood now, my hair falling from the usual place. “Bastila has a child’s mind for killing,” I said. “Mission and Zalbaar I would have spared. I had nothing to gain from killing them. Bastila was punished after that, and the girl and the Wookie made heroes in Sith records. Their help was indispensable, as was your own. Juhani and Jolee were sadly necessary- martyrs for their lost cause. If they had joined me, they would have lived on as heroes as well.”

“Dying a Sith hero is an insult, Revan.”

“As is living a Republic fool, Carth,” I retorted swiftly, my black robes falling from my form. I could hear the noise he made in the background, startled at my naked body. I restricted myself from laughing at the shift in emotion I felt from behind him. Wait, my handsome pilot. Just wait until what I planted into your mind begins to kick in. Wait until I get the chance to tamper again, to pull a few more strings in there…

I could feel his eyes on me and his struggle grow as I donned my more intimate black silk … and turned around to meet his horrified face. I was once again a woman, as he had clearly seen. And it seemed so much harder for him now: it was laughable. I could feel the doubt creep up… and it tasted delicious.

“By all means, continue,” I shrugged. “Shoot me, if you are able. This is your only chance. Kill me and end it all. Perhaps Bastila will be as forgiving as I.”

He delayed yet again, cold dread building in his eyes. His hand shook dangerously as the blaster aligned itself with my neck…

He dropped it with a clatter, horror on his tongue as what I suspected was creeping up in his mind. His hands twisted through his hair in pain, as if what he felt was unclean. “No!” he cried in anguish. “Why am I thinking…that? Why do you remind me of her? After all of this- this torture, you shouldn’t remind me of her. You can’t! You just… can’t!”

The pistol lay forgotten now. As his voice became frantic, I lost a bit of patience and with a sweep of my hand he was pinned into my bed. His yelp was endearing enough, and so were his angry eyes as I lay next to him and leaned into his warm breast as I had done the previous night.

“Get off of me,” he whispered in horror. “You can’t- you’re-!”

“You didn’t seem to complain much last night,” I pointed out. “As I recall, I could barely wrestle from your arms when I had to wake up. I have to commend your grip… It takes quite an impressive set of muscles to make the Lord of the Sith late to report.”

His face fell in defeat and winced under my touch, though I could sense that there was a bit of him that longed to melt into it. “What have you done with Dustil?” he rasped, voice weak and broken.

“Dustil is safe,” I assured him. “He is quite talented, and Korriban is entirely safe for those with talent.”

“If you mean to turn him into a monster, then yes.”

“Never a monster. You would deny the boy the only comfort he has found in years? He was away when we passed through before… but I can tell you this. The Sith are his family now, Carth.”

“I’m his father, Revan. The Sith are the ones who…The Republic killed…no, that can’t be right. The Sith killed…”

He stopped in the middle of his sentence, and I noticed his hand unconsciously slip around my middle. I could not help but smile at him as his soul rediscovered itself. It was my doing, and he would never know. He would never know that my cure was slowly infecting him, budding, and sending roots into his mind. He did not suspect I was behind it. His own thoughts were rejecting him, and it was only a matter of time now…

“It just doesn’t seem right,” he said quietly. “But… you claim he is safe?”

“Safe as he could ever be. If he feels the Sith are his family, I shall gladly adopt. Sleep, Carth. You are safe as well. You did not fire at me, and I need not return any favors.”

The words were magic to him. He collapsed into me out of exhaustion, leaving his mind wide open. Without resistance this time, I entered. Now was when the real fun began.

~~The Third Night~~

“Revan… I’ve been thinking,” Carth Onasi asked me awkwardly as I entered my quarters, somewhat tired from the day’s developments. This was an improvement, I thought. No blasters. And I could feel a definite shift in aura from him… I grinned covertly. He would never have to know who was slowly rebuilding his mind, and into what.

I shrugged. “Better than deciding to blast me, I suppose,” I admitted, pulling off my mask and nearly flinging away my hood in weary abandon. “Then again, there’s not much else to do in my quarters.”

“Are you acting now,” he asked me, “Or is this really who you are?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh,” he growled to himself. “Only that I have heard nothing about the Dark Lord Revan. You’re the most damned secretive woman I’ve ever met, not to mention persistent…”

I laughed as I once again stripped off my heavy robes, hiding nothing from him. I could see his eyes widen and his face try in vain to look away. “Stop,” he groaned. “You’re Revan. I can’t be… you can’t…”

“Come off of it, Carth,” I scolded, completely naked. “I’m a woman. You’re a man. The Force around you practically stinks of your emotions, Carth. I could smell what your body wants a parsec away. I have to commend your efforts to deny it.”

He coughed to rid himself of the subject as I dressed myself again. “Who are you, Revan?” he snarled. “Do you think I’m some sort of sick toy for you to tease? Or are you still Silva Nox, that mercenary from the Spire? Or are you the Dark Lord Revan? You sure as hell don’t act mighty around me, you know.”

“I see no need for you to call me ‘Lord,’” I admitted. “Silva Nox is a play-pretend woman from some Jedi fantasy. I am Revan. No more, no less.”

“See, that’s just what I can’t figure out,” frowned Carth. “You… you’re impossible!”

“Carth,” I said in mock-apprehension, “Your thoughts are strange today.”

He turned away. “I don’t know what I’m thinking anymore,” he sighed in disgust. “I… I want to hate you, Revan. But I can’t. I can’t. I try to think about the people you’ve killed, and I just- no. No, I can’t think this way. No, no…”

He clutched his head in his hand, breathing speeding up in alarm. “What’s wrong, Handsome?” I asked quietly, noting the tension in the air around him.

“Don’t call me that,” he snarled in anger, but then seemed to be pained again. “Revan… what’s happening to me?”

“I don’t understand that, Carth.”

He looked at me now, and I could see a storm raging inside his eyes. A storm of my design. “I… I’ve never thought this way before,” he said slowly. “I see you, Revan of the Sith… and, I… I can’t help but be drawn to you… it’s…”

He collapsed onto my bed, head reeling from the weight of the personality adjustments I had planted in him. He had been rejecting them, and I was growing anxious, but… I could feel it in the air. The strings were snapping, one by one.

“Power,” he gasped, eyes lighting up in realization. “I… I want power, Revan. Not to use it cruelly, not- not for myself. But I… I never had it before. I never realized it, but… everything, Morgana, Dustil, everything, it all happened because I had no power.”

It was happening. The Carth Onasi I had created was beginning to wake up, and I could feel the air around him crackle with life, like a star-bird rising from the ashes of ruin. I looked on in anticipation, seeing the confused look in his eyes slowly ebb and fade into one that truly swept me, Dark Lord of the Sith, off of my feet.

“I could have stopped it. I could have saved them all. I want power, Revan. I don’t know why, and it’s not for selfish purposes, but I… I need it. I crave it, and I don’t know why…”

He stared at his own hands in wonder. “What’s happening to me…?”

I sat beside him with my victorious heart beating savagely, exalting at my beautiful triumph. “Carth, you may never believe me,” I said quietly, “But there was a reason I became a Sith. And it’s very close to home. The Republic, Carth. The Republic.”

He sat in shock. “That’s just not possible,” he gasped.

“It is. You saw it for yourself in the Mandalorian Wars, Carth. The Republic is becoming stagnant and weak. The Jedi are but shades of the order of the past. If the Mandalorians caused so much trouble, then you could never imagine the horror a true foe would be. It isn’t the Sith, Carth. There is more than me out there, lurking in the dark.”

I continued, an idle hand laying itself upon his shoulder. “The Republic has no power to repel such a force, Carth. I need to make them see. I need to make them see that they truly must change their ways if they are to survive, and if I must destroy them, so be it. Malak corrupted my mission; in his blind power-craze he became conqueror instead of messenger. No, I intend to reforge the Republic. If it finds the strength to combat me, then it will find the strength to stand beside me as some horror comes out of hyperspace somewhere…”

“The Sith are… evil,” Carth said mechanically, as if he had to remind himself of the concept. “You… Revan… is evil…”

“Carth. No Jedi Master would tell you this, but I have always been this way. Even as a Jedi, they disapproved of me. Whatever coldness or evil you see here has been with me all along. It is who I am. Can you live with that, knowing that the Hero of the Mandalorian wars was as ‘evil’ as you see here today? I am not a congenial woman most of the time, Carth. But neither do I slaughter without purpose. Don’t confuse me for Malak, that fool who lost himself in the dark and never came out.”

He had no reply, but simply looked at me, dumfounded, as if he had no more thoughts in his head. I took the last move, reached out with the softest touch I could manage, and prodded the last piece of his mind into place…

“I love you,” he blurted out, white as a sheet. “I… I can’t deny it, now that I understand. I… I think you’re telling the truth. I see that I’ve been loving a woman who doesn’t exist, a woman who only had an echo of you in her. But… now I see all of you. You’ve done horrible things, and even now…I.. I want...”

His words grew more sure as they quickened. Now, safely inside my chambers, I spoke not as Lord of the Sith, but as Revan, the woman. “I can’t ask you to believe me,” I said, leaning into his arms, “But… I want you too. I am happy you see—MMPH!”

His action completely took me by surprise. His new aura registered fresh and hot in my mind as his mouth stole mine completely, tearing a kiss from lips that any other man would deem as hazardous and unapproachable as a fleet of battlecruisers. I could feel the fire, the power, in him now, clearer than ever…

This was the man I could fall in love with, I reveled as he embraced me with unrestrained passion in his heart, and he would be worlds more competent than Saul Karath ever was for that idiot Malak.

But I did not think of that now. I was more concerned with what Carth had in store for me, and wondering if previous Sith Lords ever had allowed themselves a proper lover.

~~~Epilogue~~~

PERSONAL LOG: ENSIGN ALESA VERNE

Dear Diary,

I was transferred to the brand-new flagship Dauntless today. She's a beautiful ship, and already feels like home. I'm determined to climb up the ladder a little this time; it's a brand-new ship. Which is a brand-new story, for crying out loud. I am part of the original crew, even. I suppose somebody appreciates my skills... what tiny skills they may be, anyway.

The ship, from what I know, was built for the use of the Fleet's new Admiral. The man I report directly to now, Diary! I used to be Admiral Karath's goon, and to be honest I never really liked the guy. Lucky I was bed-ridden with food poisoning when the Leviathan was stormed. Good riddance. Karath was a sniveling and annoying man. Malak scared the life out of me, though, so I'm glad he's gone, too.

Before, it was Lord Malak and Admiral Karath. Now it's Lord Revan and Admiral Onasi.

According to the rumor mill, Admiral Carth Onasi was a Republic officer, like Saul Karath. But in reality, the two men couldn't be more different. Admiral Onasi is younger than Karath, with a handsome face, broad shoulders, and a deeper chest than I suspect Saul ever was blessed with in his life. He seems more understanding than Karath, but this is no weakness that I can see; he's got the mens' support. A little charisma goes a long way, I guess. Still, he runs a very tight ship, and from the look of it, is extremely competent.

I wouldn't expect anything less from the man; he was handpicked by Lord Revan herself. She's on this ship with me, too, Diary. I'm terrified. Lord Revan is different from Malak. Malak always liked brute force- I really didn't see the point behind blowing Taris out of the Galaxy (but I wasn't about to speak my mind about that!) - but Revan... I don't think she thinks that way. I know she doesn't.

I met her today, Diary. Just for a moment.

Onasi isn't like Karath in the way he serves his Lord. Onasi is almost casual with Lord Revan... and it isn't insubordination. He will be businesslike (I guess), but I haven't seen him snivel or grovel like Karath did, and I don't think I ever will. No, he calls her 'Beautiful'... on duty! And she doesn't destroy him! She laughs, Diary! The Admiral isn't following Lord Revan out of fear. He is the only person I have ever seen, and even Bastila doesn't fall close to this, who seems completely unafraid of the Lord of the Sith.

I know why, too. It was my first day on the ship today and I was a bit distracted by them. I mean, I had barely seen Malak at all before, and I reported directly to Karath! But Admial Onasi didn't seem to mind sharing time with Revan. They were talking on the bridge about some plans that didn't involve me, flanked by Bastila. I could not help but be curious about the Admiral's lack of fear. However, I did not expect Lord Revan to stop by my station as she was on the way out. I was sure I was dead; I closed my eyes, waiting for the choke...

But it never came. She spoke instead.

Ensign Verne, she said to me, are you surprised to learn that even a Sith Lord can get herself a man?

Bastila looked mortified now that I think of it. I stammered out an answer and I really could feel my ears flush red to that. Then, when I was sure my Lord wasn't going to choke me to oblivion, I looked over at the Admiral to have the insane question erased from my brain once and for all. He flashed me a proud, accomplished smile, as if he was smug about what happened behind the forbidden doors to Lord Revan's quarters.

It blew my mind. I looked at Lord Revan, with her metal mask and black robes, trying to imagine even a female figure under there that the Admiral could covet. I almost failed. That was the end of the confrontation, but I found I could now only respect Admiral Onasi, to be able to find a woman under there, and to have the courage to... make love to the most terrifying force in the galaxy. Wow.

I can't help but admire that man now, and I am honored to work under such a man as him. I wonder how long it will be until the Sith are subject to the hardest-to-arrange and most-mandatory marriage of all time, or until we are led by a Sith Lord Darth Revan Onasi.

Whenever it is, I will turn to their cause.

Ensign Alesa Verne