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Trial of Revan

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Ksun
01.25.2012 , 03:04 AM | #1
Preface

This is not cannon. This is my preference to Revan's official story. I think it is ridiculous to think that such an important historical figure could be swayed so easily to the dark side and then back again. I write a more complex Revan who is his own master. His character is a combination of myself, Batman and Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn Yūsuf ibn Ayyūb (better known as Saladin). Although it starts out slow, this story focuses on the Mandalorian war and the strategic prowess needed to turn a war around.

1. Homecoming

The truth is, little Loopo should have been inside the classroom and not outside in the courtyard. The Jedi enclave had never really taken a stance on failing their students, primarily because a student’s presence could cause less damage under the watchful eyes of the masters as opposed to alone on the outside. Vrook Lamar often blathered on to the other masters about what small uses the Sith could find in the students they’d abandoned. Although intelligence wasn't Loopo's primary shortcoming, his below-average grades didn't help. Asthma caught him at a young age, right after his acceptance into the enclave, and dragged him down by the lungs. He would sit off in the corner catching his breathe while his peers continued their physical combat training. He grew round as his time spent away from physical activities dragged on. Not long after, through unfortunate genetics, he was fitted with spectacles that were always dirty. Loopo had learnt to be invisible once he had fallen under the radar of the enclave masters. Even though the class he was missing was the history of the Republic, he had grown apathetic towards any ambition he had at the enclave.

It was raining heavily that afternoon, which was quite unusual for the season. The rain didn't bother Loopo; the courtyard was normally populated on sunny days. It was almost guaranteed on hot afternoons the courtyard would be filled with ‘young’uns’, often jested as the Jedi daycare. On rainy days Loopo would hide under the roof’s eave on the concrete bench which was too high for his feet to touch the ground. It was also the perfect spot for him to people-watch; the main entrance led through the courtyard and on to more important places.

The rain was falling from the roof in waterfalls that filled the yard with a soft, rhythmic splattering noise. The sound covered up the approach of footsteps coming down through the enclave entrance. At the last moment before the visitors appeared in the doorway, Loopo glanced up to the sound of talking. A woman walked into the courtyard wearing Jedi robes that looked like they had been dragged through the mud. She put her hands on her hips and looked around the yard without giving any notice to Loopo. Her short brown hair started to pat against her forehead as the rain swept down upon her stern face. She was pretty, but too scary to admire for long. Loopo thought he had seen her around the enclave before, but only from a distance. She definitely wasn't one of the nicer 'olders' who possessed the patience to fly in and interact with the younger students.

The woman turned back around to the entrance and instructed her unseen partner to follow. A tall dark-haired man sporting a leather pilot jacket appeared in the courtyard pushing a dolly. The dolly was the same kind delivery personnel used when dropping off packages for the enclave. Strapped to the dolly was another man severely restrained in chains and multiple locks. The man in the leather jacket set him down in the middle of the rainfall and brushed back a playful bang hanging in his eyes.

‘Master Kavar should be in the council chambers,’ the woman said, making her way to the enclave's centre. The pilot pursed his lips in annoyance and followed her with a hop in his step to catch up. Loopo's eyes followed them as they disappeared around the corner. He looked back to the prisoner, who was now staring at him.

‘Heya!’ the man called out to him in a bubbly manner, completely oblivious to the fact that his arm was chained down preventing him from waving. Loopo jolted upright… astonished that someone was acknowledging his presence. He looked around cautiously for anyone else the man could be talking to but the courtyard was empty. ‘What's your name?’

‘Loopo,’ he responded, then quickly blurted out ‘-sir!’

‘Ah, no need to be formal with me kid. They don't carry Jedi masters in chains.’ Loopo stared at him for a moment before wiping his glasses with his sleeve as if he believed dirty lenses imagined this stranger up. But the man was still there, smiling back at him with an abundant grin. He stood stiff as a board chained up to the dolly but seem to have a cavalier attitude towards his imprisonment. His long, black hair was already soaked and fell against his skin in strings. He wasn't sure, but Loopo could swear that the rain swirled around him ever so slightly before hitting the ground.

‘It's nice to meet you Loopo.’ The chained man continued to push a conversation upon Loopo without leaving him any time to ponder who the man was and why he was chained up. ‘You have any friends here Loopo?’

‘No sir – mister!’

‘Not one?’

‘No mister,’ Loopo shook his head. He didn’t realize it but he had started to swing his hanging feet out of nervousness.

‘Yeah, me neither,’ the chained man said sheepishly. He looked away, staring at nothing while Loopo continued to stare at him. ‘Hey,’ he looked back at Loopo again. ‘Did they ever build a cafeteria in the enclave?’

‘Pardon mister?’

‘A cafeteria, they ever get one?’

‘No mister.’

‘Yeah, why wouldn’t they do that?’ the chained man asked rhetorically. ‘I’ve always wondered that. Jedi need to eat too, right?’ The boy nodded.

‘Mister,’ Loopo asked cautiously, ‘who are you?’

‘Me?’ The chained man shrugged at the question, downplaying any self importance. ‘I’m just a previous student.’

‘But why do they have you locked up?’

‘A lot of unpaid library fees, kid. Make sure you return your books on time,’ the chained man said with a wolfish grin. Loopo wanted to inquire further but thought of the possible dangers of antagonizing a man who had to be chained down in the middle of the Jedi enclave.

‘Loopo,’ he motioned towards the boy, ‘could you be so kind as to roll me out from underneath the rain?’

‘Oh!’ Loopo jumped to his feet, ‘of course mister.’ He felt embarrassed that he had to be asked. The man had been left in the rain for such a length of time that his clothes were now spongy with water. Loopo walked behind the dolly and using his tippy toes was just able to finger the handles down to his reach.

‘And please, Loopo,’ the man said while trying to turn his head, ‘you don’t have to call me mister either.’ The dolly wheels just started to creak forward as Loopo prepared to catch the man’s weight. ‘You can just call me Revan.’

An alarm went off in Loopo’s head. He knew that name well, as did every other kid in the enclave. The shock made him lose his grip and the dolly crashed down to the floor. He jumped back from the accident. Revan squinted in pain as his head hit up against the back of the dolly, but cracked a painful smile after the initial blow.

‘Hey!’ a voice boomed from one of the adjoining hallways. Loopo turned to see the man in the pilot jacket walk towards him with an authoritative glare. Panicking, the boy ran in the opposite direction, leaving the man and Revan behind. He turned the corner, heaving. Stopping to grab the wall and his chest, he tried to catch his breath.

The rain pitter-pattered on Revan's face. He was lying on his back still bound to the dolly. His eyes were closed but he could hear the pilot's footsteps as they got closer. ‘Ah, c'mon Carth,’ Revan moaned. Carth said nothing. He lifted the dolly up on its wheels and began to roll Revan inside. The Dantoonie enclave was considered tiny in comparison to the other Jedi houses, but it wasn't small enough to spare the two men an awkward walk to the main assembly hall. Ever since Revan's capture, Carth had remained dead silent around him. At first Revan enjoyed taunting him into conversation. He would pick away at Carth, searching for any weak spot that would get a rise out of him. But Carth would not give any ground. He would just stare at Revan, holding his gun at the waist. The entire ride from Taris, Carth spent every spare minute away from the bridge to stand outside Revan's cell. When Revan gave up mocking him, the two would be locked in an unflinching dead stare. Sometimes the wookie would come to see Revan in his cell. He would roar and scream at Revan and bash at the cell's barrier. He would call Revan “madclaw” and pace back and forth, growling under his breath. But the wookie was sporadic, full of emotions and was not there at all times to watch Revan. Not like Carth. Carth was a watchdog.

Even on the Endar Spire, Carth spent his off-duty hours outside Revan’s cell. Back on the republic ship, security was much tighter. Revan had his hands and legs chained, imprisoned by four force shields (each with its own backup power supply), and a standing force of thirty marines who were ordered to keep their guns trained on Revan at all times. To top it off, they had turned around a planetary bombardment cannon from the outer hull of the ship to aim inward at Revan at point blank. Still, Carth would watch him whenever he could.

Even without all the security on the Ebon Hawk, Carth wasn’t worried. When the Endar Spire crash landed on Taris, he realized that he wouldn’t be able to save Bastila by himself. He crawled back into the ruined husk of the Endar Spire where Revan had been abandoned. The two had formed a temporary alliance to find safe passage out from under the Sith blockade. Upon releasing Revan, Carth swore that when the day came, he would be there to kill him. So when it came to imprisoning Revan in the Ebon Hawk, Carth felt he was all the security Revan needed. Leaving him alone in the middle of the courtyard at the Jedi enclave was by order of Bastila (who hadn’t seemed grateful for much since her rescue).

Carth rolled Revan around the corner and down into the assembly hall. Much to Revan’s surprise, the entire student body had gathered in the hall with all of the masters seated in the centre. He concluded that the masters likely wanted to make an example of him to the students. A “this is your on the dark side” demonstration like some kind of anti-drug rally. It was disappointing for him to see some of his more favourable teachers like Zhar, Dorek and Kavar on the firing line.

The students were organized in a half-circle around the centre. The younger classes were in the front rows while the taller, older students were in the back. The padawans sat front and centre, of course. The student body must not have been informed of the nature of the assembly because when Carth rolled Revan into the room, the students burst into gasps and hushed whispers. It quickly grew loud as all the whispering echoed off the hall ceiling. Revan had always assumed that the reason they made the Jedi assembly halls so tall was so that the teachers could echo their voices and appear as an important authority figure. He also figured it was to compensate for the way Jedi masters were accepting anything with a pulse into their ranks these days. Dorak tried to take control of the crowd and hush the excitement down.

Revan looked down at a group of young ’uns staring up at him with wide-eyed amazement. He twisted his head around to Carth whilst keeping his eyes on his small audience. ‘Y’know Carth,' he said, 'you’d make the best Sith lord!’ Carth didn’t say anything but his face squeezed slightly with disgust. ‘You know why?’ Revan grinned. ‘Because you’d be called Darth Carth!’ The young students burst into giggles and Revan turned to them with relish. Vrook snapped his glare over to the kids, hushing them in an instant. Revan looked at the kids with a playful “uh-oh, now we’re in trouble” look and a few of them cracked broken smiles back at him.

‘Revan,’ Vrook bellowed from his stomach in his signature superior, upper-class tone, ‘it’s been so long and yet you still can not sober up to reality nor grow up to your age.’

‘Master Vrook,’ Revan said with transparent glee as Carth parked him in front of the council, ‘have you lost weight?’

‘Be quiet!-' Vrook snapped.

‘Revan, do you know why you’re here?’ Vash interrupted.

‘Because you just can’t get enough of my charming good looks?’

‘Revan you are here because of your crimes against the Republic’ Kavar said. ‘While initially you were to be assassinated, the opportunity to capture you alive presented itself. That is why you are here on Dantoonie and not on Coruscant. While the Sith aren’t known for their rescue missions, their blockade of Taris and the eventual destruction of the planet has us concerned. We can only assume the actions taken by Malak are to assure your death so he can take up the mantle of Sith lord without retaliation from you. Your location here will be kept secret from the rest of the universe for both your benefit and ours.

‘While I said you are here for your crimes against the Republic, know that we are Jedi and you’ll have full opportunity to explain much of your actions since you left to fight the Mandalorian war. Once you have explained yourself, we’ll come to a consensus on whether you’re guilty or not. Do you understand?’

‘Aren’t you going to ask whether I plead guilty or not guilty?’

‘You are welcome to plead guilty right now but we know that the universe has many shades of grey. There are a lot of unanswered questions. And coming from someone who watched over you as you grew up, I personally hope you don’t plead guilty.’

‘Sounds fair enough, I guess. I understand.’

‘Revan,’ Vandar said, ‘we want you to know that despite what you have done, your beginning was here and that you’re one of us. If you were to fall so deep into the dark side,’ Vandar paused and motioned towards the student body, ‘any one of us could be in your place.’

‘With some hard work of course.’

‘Of course,’ Vandar begrudgingly agreed.

‘The council members that will sit in for this trial are...’ Kavar listed off the names in order, ‘Master Dorak, Master Vrook Lamar, Master Vandar Tokare, myself, Master Lonna Vash, Master Zez-Kai Ell and Master Zhar Lestin. Unfortunately, Master Atris is unavailable and can’t join us.’

‘Now,’ Zhar cleared his throat, ‘before we begin going over the details of the Mandalorian War, we would like to go over the details of how you got here. The last thing we know is the Republic ship carrying you, the Endar Spire, had been shot down over the planet Taris. Both Bastila and Carth have informed us on how they were able to break the Sith barricade with some outside help and by commandeering a civilian ship but from what I hear you were bound in chains for the majority of your time on Taris. We would like to hear how you managed to free Bastila from - what were they? The local gang?’

‘Why does it matter how I got here if we’re here to talk about the war?’

‘Despite our own judgment, the Force acts through individuals on its own accord. A greater knowledge on its workings can lead to a better understanding of the universe and the people around us.’

‘Well, I guess I could recall my extraordinary heroics. Maybe my new best friend can help me tell it.’ Revan motioned towards Bastila but she only glared back at him. ‘It all started when Carth came to me, crawling on his hands on knees, begging for the help of a real man…’
The Bastion :
Jedi Knight - Laz

Ksun's Avatar


Ksun
01.26.2012 , 01:28 PM | #2
2. Breakout

Carth was running himself around in circles in an effort to plan an elaborate rescue mission. He was disgusted over Revan's determination to provide outlandish rescue schemes and the way he punctuated each idea with a stupid grin. ‘We could blow up a neighbouring planet as a form of a distraction,’ Revan cracked his lips, forcing out an artificial smile. Carth didn't raise his head. He sat hunched over on the broken couch, contemplating the survivability of a one man rescue mission and weighting the pros and cons of killing Revan. The two had been squatting inside an abandoned building in the industrial sector for a number of days. Time had begun to eat at their patience. The building they were staying in, to their guess, had been an apartment complex turned into an assembly line factory, perhaps to make shoes. No one had occupied the building for a number of years apparent from the blanket of dust and the rodent droppings. The musty smell of old everything was pungent. Unable to fight reason any more, Carth stared at Revan under heavy brows, reminding himself of a soldier's honour and patience. Bastila's safety meant Revan's survival. Carth stormed out of the room and upstairs to the old overseer's office. 'Fine,' Revan muttered, 'I'll do it by myself.'

Carth had not chosen a place to perch above the Vulkars' base. He had sniffed out a very forgettable hole in which to hide Bastila when the time came to stow her away from their enemies. Still, it wasn't enough to silence the nagging fears that crept up with all his doubts. Are we actually safe here? What if we don't get to Bastila in time? How are we suppose to escape the Sith blockade? What frustrated him most was Revan's apparent lack of concern or willingness to help. On the first day of arrival Revan had been sent on what was supposed to be a recon mission for him. Instead he ran back to Carth, bursting at the seams with astonishment and excitement over his discovery of the sector's only Mandalorian restaurant.

Carth marched up to the overseer's office with clenched fists. His temple was throbbing and he blamed only one person for that. He fumbled around in his pocket for his pills and when they weren't there he stopped in the stairwell and checked all his pockets. 'Ah ****!' Carth whispered to himself. His shoulders dropped as he remembered throwing out the empty bottle that morning. I forgot already, Carth thought. He rubbed his hand against his forehead and exhausted some stress with a deep sigh. Continuing up the stairs, he thought about slamming the door shut but remembered he had more self control than that. The room upstairs had a dank, moldy smell that flared his nostrils. Standing there in the centre of the room, he could feel the filth and odour of the room seep into his clothes and ever pore. '**** it,' he muttered and whipped out his gun, peppering the wall. A smile cracked through his stone face as he imagined it was Revan's head he was shooting at.

The hinges on the rotting door frame had loosened themselves long ago, leaving the steel door hanging crooked off the wall. The bungled door would grind along the pavement, like the whole building had died and developed rigor mortis. Revan shoved his way outside with a symphony of screeching and scrapes. He felt the chill of moist air rush up against his face. It was later in the day, when the citizens of upper Taris had come home, and the upper city plumbing would leak under the increased activity. 'Damn lower city rain,' Revan cursed. He shivered and wrapped his overcoat around him tighter. He reached back inside for his cane and closed the door only halfway. 'Stupid stick-in-the-mud jarhead!' Leaning heavily on his cane, he marched towards the highway offshoot, down the industrial road, in between hollowed out factories. His leg was still slowly oozing blood from his capture; he hadn't been able to pick out all the shrapnel yet. 'He thinks and thinks and thinks all day! But never comes up with ideas.' Revan sidestepped a puddle at the last minute and his leg punished him for it. His face twisted in pain but held back any sound. Once his leg eased off, he sighed and continued on, grumbling into his jacket. 'Stupid, shortsighted, brainless idiot! Fine! I'll save the damn ice queen myself.' A long list of all the places he'd rather be developed in his head.

The Black Vulkars gang had never been known for their hospitality. If they had any clue as to Bastila's true identity they may have taken a bit more caution. However, the accommodations fit for a Republic officer were plenty miserable, if not utterly humiliating. For days she had her hands restrained behind her back and her neck chained to the floor in a cage. Her imprisonment prevented her from sitting up or lying down flat. It was a cage specifically built for females. Her captors had put extra effort into the sexually vulgar comments they tossed at her, which was no mean feat to squeeze out from such low class minds, admitted Bastila. Brejik, the leader of the gang, had grown overconfident over the months as his armed thugs swept through the lower streets of Taris. Against common sense (and in an effort to scare the local populace into submission) he instructed that Bastila's cage be displayed on the doorstep of the gang's headquarters under the watchful eyes of armed guards, with a sign reading “Ambassador of the Republic Galactic Empire”.

In spite of her determination, Bastila could not free herself from her captors, nor imagine a likely scenario where she would be given an opportunity. When a severely outdated hover taxi puttered to a smoky stop outside of the Vulkars’ building drawing the attention of the guards, she saw no better time to try breaking her restraints. The guards lowered their guns and began to snicker at the sight of a crippled man struggling to pry himself out of the driver’s seat. Bastila didn’t look up but could hear the guards joke among themselves about shooting the cripple’s only good leg. The cripple hobbled towards the group, leaning onto his cane. The clicking of the cane on the metal floor caught Bastila’s attention. When she looked up, she saw Revan walking towards the guards. The sight of him made her temper flare. She screamed behind the tape over her mouth and raged against her restraints. Of all the people to survive the Endar Spire crash, of all the scum on this forsaken planet, why him?! Revan paid no attention to the thrashing and commotion Bastila was causing in her cage, but the guards didn’t ignore her. The joking stopped and one of the men approached Revan.

‘You must be lost cripple,’ the man growled. The guard was a walking mountain. He strode right up close until he was looking down on Revan. The guard’s aggression hadn’t dented Revan, who remained completely complacent.

‘Ya know,’ Revan said as he pulled out a small marble from his pocket and started examining it, ‘when I heard that the Biths were the top of the line in smoke bomb production, I was like “What? Those guys?” But you have to give them credit, they really know their stuff when it comes to phonics and airborne material transfer.’

The guard pushed the muzzle of his gun up against Revan’s chest. ‘You need to leave, now!’

‘You’re pretty tall, how much you think you weight? One-twenty, maybe one-thirty kilos?’

The end of the gun started to motion towards Revan’s good leg. Bastila had hoped the guard would be able to get at least one good shot in, but before he could Revan swiped away the gun and the top of the cane came crashing onto the guard’s nose. The rest of the guns opened fire but Revan flipped the guard around and held him as a shield. The Bith smoke bomb hit the ground and smoke quickly unfolded into the air. Revan grabbed the dead guard’s gun and shot at the muzzle flares through the smoke. Navigating the gun flashes, Revan shot wildly, hitting men and their guns. There were only three men left who hadn’t been shot dead. Dropping their busted guns, they ran at Revan as he emerged limping out of the smoke cloud. Revan ducked and appeared behind the first punch, smashing his elbow into the guard’s face. The second guard swung his fist. Revan caught the punch and scissored the guard‘s arm between his knee and his elbow. The arm snapped sideways. Revan head-butted the man as he fell to the ground screaming. The third guard charged at Revan’s torso. Revan punched the man off-balance and hooked his arm. He swung around the guard’s arm, forcing him to the ground with his feet on the guard’s back. Revan slowly started to bend the arm backwards. The man’s arm cracked loudly as the bones in his arm fractured like a tree bending in half. The first guard swung his leg at Revan’s crippled leg. Revan fell on his back. He kicked away the guards advancing boot and swiped at the guard’s footing. Jumping back on his feet, Revan stomped down on the man’s rib cage, breaking through bone and crushing his lung. The second guard got up and ran for a gun off a dead body. Revan grabbed a knife from his sleeve and flung it towards the guard as he was whipping around to fire. The knife dug into the man’s jugular, pumping out blood in red squirts. The gun dropped and the guard fell backwards holding his neck.

Revan stood over the bodies, rubbing his knuckles and searching for any lingering aggression. His leg punished him for the hit he had taken earlier. Blood began to seep through his bandages and expand. Heavy droplets gathered and snaked down his pants, leaving breadcrumbs. Nursing his leg, he limped into the fading smoke column, coughing and waving his arm around to clear up the air. 'Ah!' Revan coughed, 'there.' He picked up his cane, along with the keys off the main guard and turned to meet Bastila. Her eyes were on fire. She thrashed against her restraints and screamed under the tape covering her mouth. Revan unlocked her chains but decided to keep her handcuffed.

'Hi,' Revan said as he pulled her out, 'Miss me?' He removed the tape covering her mouth and Bastila exploded into a frenzy of yelling.

'If you lay another finger on m-' Revan placed the tape over her mouth again.

'I know, we got a lot of catching up to do! But we can talk later.' Bastila threw her knee up at him but he moved out of the way. 'Hey! I'll leave you behind if you keep that up.' She simmered but remained seething. Through the silence, Revan picked up the beeping of the Vulkars' front door surveillance camera. ‘We need to leave.’

He picked Bastila up and tossed her in the backseat of the taxi. The gates to the Vulkars’ headquarters started to grind open slowly. The distant sounds of the gang’s swoop bike engines were growing louder from within the stronghold. Revan ran to pick up a gun and shot at the door’s control panel. The door pushed wide open instantly. ‘Oh c’mon!’ Revan protested. The sound of the bike engines was much closer and the shine from the headlights was crawling up the entrance ramp. Revan jumped into the driver’s seat and the engine coughed to life. He pressed the clutch into first gear and slammed down on the petal. The hover wheels gripped the ground and the car lugged forward.

An impact from behind jerked the car. The Vulkars bikes had caught up. Gunfire sprayed the car and sent broken glass flying. Revan ducked below his seat with his foot still pressed against the petal. A biker rode up to the side of the car with his gun drawn. Revan twisted the wheel and pinned the bike between the car and the wall, grinding it to scrap metal. Two more bikes appeared on his other side. He slammed on the brakes. Four bikes flashed past him. They began braking to maneuver a tight U-turn. Revan pushed the car forward to turn off the road when another bike smashed into the rear corner of the car. The force sent Bastila rolling onto the car floor screaming. The biker flipped over the car, landed on the hood and slipped off. The rear hover wheel lost power and the car’s back corner hit the ground with a heavy thud. ‘****!’ Revan cursed. Error messages flashed and buzzed at Revan, and the car powered down. The bikers were halfway through their U turn. Revan quickly tried powering up the car but to no avail. ‘C’mon work!’ he yelled at the dashboard. ‘Move you piece of junk!’ The lights on the dashboard flickered and died with each attempt. The bikers had finished turning around and were speeding back. Revan spun around and faced the back corner. The dead wheel lifted off the ground and wavered in the air. Revan tried the engine again. The dashboard fluttered to life.

The car turned off the road and sped down an adjoining alley. The bikes drifted around the corner and their engines screamed in pursuit. Garbage cans and debris slammed up against the front of the taxi. Gun shots flared against the car frame and alley walls. A shot whistled by Revan's head. He ducked, losing concentration and dropping the back corner of the car. Sparks flew up violently from the metal scrapping the ground. The engine puttered, but the corner lifted up and the engine roared forward.

The car swerved out of the alley and onto a road amongst oncoming traffic. The RPM shot up sporadically and the car slipped sideways as the wheels struggled to gain traction. The bikes emerged out of the alley. One car blared its horn, striking one bike and sending the rider tumbling over the side. Revan weaved against the traffic. Sirens on a police car lit up as Revan's taxi skimmed past. 'Ah crap,' Revan said, looking in his rear view mirror at his additional tail. He scanned the road and spotted a construction zone ahead. He zipped his car past the front of a large tanker. One of the bikers caught the edge of the truck. The bike swerved out of control and crashed into the road. Bastila pushed herself up in the backseat. ‘Ok so…‘ Revan started, 'we're going to take a bit of a detour.' He yanked the car sharply into the construction zone. The police car screeched to a halt but the two bikes followed. Bastila shrieked out muffled protests. ‘Women!’ Revan chuckled, ‘always playing the role of the backseat driver.’ She kicked the back of his seat.

The taxi broke through a chain link fence into the construction yard. Workers scrambled, jumping out of the way. The sound of several police sirens flooded in from the distance. A freighter train was approaching the construction docking station, quickly closing a short gap between it and another train cart. Revan pushed the taxi forward. The car seesawed over the tracks. The edges of the trains scraped all down the sides of the taxi. One of the bikes skimmed through. The second was pinched and ripped apart by the forward motion in a burst of fiery scrap metal. Revan drove through the construction entrance and back onto the street. The light at the approaching intersection was red and clogged with opposing traffic. He leaned on his horn and pushed his way through a swarm of confused drivers. A police car sideswiped the taxi from the traffic, knocking Revan across the front seat. The car spun out of control, the backend dragging. The taxi powered down and crashed into a fire hydrant. The biker sped away from the scene with two cop cars screaming after him.

Revan pushed himself up off the passenger seat and wiped the blood drooling down his forehead. Water was sprayed out of the broken fire hydrant and rained down on the car. The police cars all crowded around the crashed taxi, the officers' guns drawn. Several more police cars flooded into the area. Their lights painted the road and the buildings. Revan looked in the back and saw Bastila knocked unconscious. Two vans rolled up behind the cop cars and members of the SWAT division poured out the back of each vehicle. They pointed their assault rifles at the taxi and streamed through the police cars, all barking out orders. Get out of the car! Put your hands up! Put your hands up! Don’t move! Don’t *********** move!

Revan moved himself back into the driver’s seat and examined his surroundings. Behind him was a lamp post and the water from the fire hydrant was spreading a large pool of water into the street. The SWAT team stepped closer to the car. There were fewer police cars covering the direction he was heading. There was an opening wide enough to fit one car through, but would cause congestion for the following squadron. Lining each side of the street, bystanders gathered, closing the sidewalks off from any vehicle traffic. The SWAT stopped advancing and were standing on dry ground, only a few feet from the edge of the water.

‘Get out of your car now!’ someone yelled.

‘****,’ Revan whispered. He was staring at the water inching towards their feet. ‘Just a little more.’

‘Exit your vehicle or we will open fire!’

‘I can’t move, my leg is caught!’ Revan yelled back. Two of the men started walking towards the car with their guns trained on Revan. They were walking in the water with the rest of the SWAT only a short distance from the edge of the pool. Revan watched the edge roll closer towards the team’s feet. One of the two men approached the backseat and saw Bastila handcuffed and unconscious.

‘Hostage!’ The man yelled and swung his gun back to Revan. The water expanded out and now touched the last of the SWAT member’s toes. Revan threw a smoke bomb through the window. Smoke rolled out and blanketed the car. Revan lifted the car’s back corner, powered up the engine and drove the taxi backwards into the lamppost. The lamp crashed down onto the road, sending electricity through the water and electrocuting the SWAT team. Shots pelted the car as it lunged forward and smashed through the police line.

The road had been evacuated. Revan sped down the empty street while the rest of the police scrambled to turn themselves around. He had traveled almost a kilometre when he remembered why local law enforcement would close off a road in any vehicle pursuit. The car spiked with electricity and fell to the ground dead, grinding the bottom of the car against the road. His body was thrown against the dashboard. The car had hit an EMP belt, permanently frying its electric components. Revan tried opening his door but the electronic controls wouldn’t respond. He could see the police far down the street, but fast approaching. Revan started kicking his door. The door had become mangled from crashing into the fire hydrant and held shut with the twisted remnants of the locking device. After a number of kicks, the door creaked open. Revan dragged Bastila out of the backseat and limped down the street with her in his arms.

The police lights were already flashing on his back. He saw the road ahead bridge over a gap on either side. His leg was burning under the weight of both he and Bastila. The police cars had already stopped and he could hear the doors opening. He picked up the pace by adding a hop to his limp. The yelling and hustling of footsteps were right behind him. Revan threw Bastila over his shoulder and tossed another smoke bomb behind him. The police coughed and moved to clear the cloud. Revan could hear the clicking of train tracks underneath the bridge. ‘This is going to hurt,’ he warned himself. He slipped over the edge and used his body to cushion Bastila’s fall.


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I'm disappointed but not surprised to see the cursing censored out. Originally it's written as the following:
S___
F___
S___
F___ing
S___
The Bastion :
Jedi Knight - Laz