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The True Story of Revan, Savior of the Republic.

STAR WARS: The Old Republic > English > Community Content > Fan Fiction
The True Story of Revan, Savior of the Republic.

Gestahlt's Avatar


Gestahlt
12.13.2011 , 09:20 AM | #1
For years there had been no word from Drew Karpyshyn on Revan's fate. Long before he decided to assassinate the Exile's character, the True Story of Revan had already informed the world of what had actually occurred in the life of one of the Jedi Order's most infamous members. Now, that tale is revisited.

And it is all entirely canon.


Chapter Guide:
01 - Uncertainty.
02 - Unforeseen.
03 - Unbound.
04 - Unwanted.
05 - Unleashed.
06 - Unchallenged.
07 - Unintended.
08 - Unanticipated.
09 - Unrealized.
10 - Unafraid.
11 - Unbroken.
EP - Untold.

Chapter One: Uncertainty.

Revan, arguably the greatest Jedi of his time, was unquestionably terrified.

The transparisteel before him allowed the young Jedi to look into the sharply contrasting lines that hyperspace offered any foolish enough to meet its gaze. While he had heard of some veteran soldiers being able to stomach the intensity without batting an eye, the reason why he had opted upon the action was to take his mind away from the sea of uncertainty that surrounded him. The Mandalorians, an enemy who legend did not discredit in word of ferocity or brutality, had been defeated. By all accounts he should have believed that the Republic saved: he was a hero, a visionary that had stood against the maelstrom and prevailed.

But then, why was he so horrifyingly afraid?

There was more to the situation at hand; perhaps the only true talent that he had was discerning that quality about that which floated around him. Tales of his prowess with both the Force and lightsaber had already begun to reach the minds of many, which in turn spun earnest hard work and tactical knowhow into a fantastic story of a single man that was very much akin to staring into the Heart of the Force. He knew that talk such as that served its own purpose – it bolstered the hopes of his allies and demoralized his enemies, but he also knew better than to believe it. He was just a man, nothing more than a simple man.

Of course, the question that was on his mind – that had been on his mind since he witnessed a particular general turn away from his victorious bands and return herself to the Jedi Council for reprimanding, was why it was that he had not gone with her. They had achieved their goal in a sense: the Mandalorians were defeated, and yet the thought of a danger far greater still lurked within the expansive beyond. Was it truly his place to right every wrong that the galaxy faced, or did he simply assume that mantle when the people offered it to him? Whatever the case, Revan and the Revanchists were prepared to enter yet another storm.

The sound of the refresher’s doors opening drew Revan away from his momentary introspection and brought to his stomach a sudden and harsh pain as his mind related to his body the labors of staring for so long into hyperspace. He pulled away then, queasy and paled, when his vision befell the one that had escaped from the confines of the shower to his aft. It was a person that he had seen before and one that as always managed to bring a smile to his face, if only vaguely.

That toned physique; those well shaped legs and finely sculpted abdomen. A chest that was expansive and desirable, easily cut from marble and painted a fleshen tone by the hand of some immortal artist. With water still faintly glistening upon supple flesh and dripping from a noble nose, Revan found it difficult to breathe. Oh how strong and succulent those thighs were, or the powerful biceps that at the moment flexed when the white towel was moved to rub along a smooth, tattooed scalp. Finally, his breath left him as a single, simple gust – trembling, almost whispering with unspoken lust.

“Alek.”

And as always, so too did Alek Squinquargesimus present him with a winsome smirk – a becoming smile that did well to quiet his heart’s uncertainties and in their place ignite a fire the likes of which none could deny. To the rest of the world he had become "Malak", but that was a title that had no place within their relationship. Whatever it was that Demagol did to change his beloved Alek did not matter; he would forever see him as the loving and caring boy that he had fallen in love with so long ago. “None other,” he answered in voice velveteen; as smooth and supple as his flesh. “You seem distraught, is everything alright?”

He desired nothing more than to confess that everything was not alright; that from the moment they left Dantooine he felt ill and uncertain of himself. But he knew that not even Alek, who had gone from being a pupil, to a brother, to something… more could truly understand those fears. He had to remain strong, to appear brave, even in the face of certain doom. The Mandalorian woman’s mask that he had taken permitted that in the heat of battle, for though he presented a grim picture to his enemies, it did well to mask his fear and trepidation. At that moment he looked almost longingly to the discarded mask and desired nothing more than to place it back on. But he did not and knew that he could not; he would not shield himself entirely from his beloved Alek.

“I am fine,” he heard himself saying without much feeling. “Tired, is all.”

Alek chuckled understandingly (what he understood was beyond Revan) and languidly placed his tall, fit body against the bed that the two Jedi shared. He patted his hand in place once and curled his tongue as he clucked a response. “Then rest, my love. If any have earned that right, it is you. Revan, savior of the Republic.”

It certainly had a nice ring to it, did it not? He could already tell that one day, in the distant future, laymen would say his name with greater acclaim than any other. That his meager talents and unassuming demeanor would be forgotten and in their place the image of a titan superimposed. That was both an exciting and frightening thought! The former because he would be immortalized; the latter because his true self would be forgotten.

And just who was he truly? Well, that question was answered when he placed himself beside Alek on the bed. With unchecked affection he looked up to Alek, whose eyes swam with worry and concern. “I do not know if I have saved anyone,” he said with a surprising level of sincerity. “I do not know if any of this has amounted to much.”

“That general’s words still paint your vision,” Alek chided as he placed his hand to Revan’s unassuming, diminutive chest. “Forget her, Revan. She was – is, of little repute. She served her purpose and will be forgotten; if she is to ever be heard of again it will be only in the shadow of your name. We both sensed… something was out there and it is only right that we investigate it.”

Alek’s words did well to assuage some of the pain that rose within Revan’s chest and he smiled appreciatively in return. He fit his head against Alek’s shoulder, nuzzling it in place as his eyes became veiled hoods with sleep’s imminent arrival. The feeling of Alek’s strong arms and body near him always brought peace to his mind, and the raging emotions that coursed through him were given a positive spin. “If not for you, I do not know if I would have the courage to face this threat,” Revan confided with a wary sigh.

In response to the statement, Alek turned his head and brushed his lips along Revan’s forehead. After the kiss was offered he nuzzled closer to Revan and whispered into his ear. “Then you are truly blessed by the Force, Revan, because you will never have to. I will be with you,” he began.

Revan looked up to him then and captured Alek’s eyes within his own.

Together, they whispered a single word. Though their lips did not meet, their heated and warm breath pressed together in a ferocious and passionate interlocking of their invigorated desires. So close, yet so far away, that affection could only be expressed in that lone utterance.

“Forever.”

MalakDawnfire's Avatar


MalakDawnfire
12.13.2011 , 09:27 AM | #2
Good story.

Gestahlt's Avatar


Gestahlt
12.13.2011 , 09:37 AM | #3
Why, thank you. I hope that it only becomes better.

MalakDawnfire's Avatar


MalakDawnfire
12.13.2011 , 09:39 AM | #4
Quote: Originally Posted by Gestahlt View Post
Why, thank you. I hope that it only becomes better.
Have we met on a distance field? You'd think I'd remember.

Kelzack's Avatar


Kelzack
12.13.2011 , 11:45 AM | #5
Stop lunchin' on revan! Just cuz he so cysed up don't mean nothin' Dawg, you be lunchin' hard lunchin'...



On the other note. Good Read.

Bakarn's Avatar


Bakarn
12.13.2011 , 11:47 AM | #6
OH MY GOD REVAN ISNT GAY HES LIKE blah blah blah whatever.

Right. There we go. That's enough for this thread.

Kelzack's Avatar


Kelzack
12.13.2011 , 12:25 PM | #7
Quote: Originally Posted by Bakarn View Post
OH MY GOD REVAN ISNT GAY HES LIKE blah blah blah whatever.

Right. There we go. That's enough for this thread.
Man, you lunchin' too hard lunchin'!

On the other note. You know that won't stop it...

Gestahlt's Avatar


Gestahlt
12.13.2011 , 12:41 PM | #8
Nothing can stop me now.

MalakDawnfire's Avatar


MalakDawnfire
12.13.2011 , 02:20 PM | #9
I enjoy how canon this story is.

Gestahlt's Avatar


Gestahlt
12.14.2011 , 07:15 AM | #10
Chapter 2: Unforeseen.

Inexplicably, Revan found himself kneeling before the Sith Emperor.

He did not know how he had arrived, but he knew that he was there. In years to come he was certain that if the same fervor surrounding his victory found him at this moment, inept and incompetent historians would be forced to use conjecture to fill the synapses between his defeat of the Mandalorians and his meeting with the powerful man that now sat before him. To his right Alek also kneeled. Though he desired nothing more than to clutch his lover’s hand and reassure him that all would be well, each had their hands bound behind their backs. This was no act of contrition that they made upon their knees – they had been forced there!

Considering that the Sith were believed to have been annihilated quite some time ago, culminating in the impressive defeat of Ulic Qel-Droma at the hands of Nomi Sunrider, he had not even know there was a true Sith empire to discover. Of course, Exar Kun had managed to evade capture but as Revan looked upon the man that sat before him now in the throne, he was certain that it was not the robust Sith that he had heard so much about. No, this man was someone entirely differently; something entirely different. It would behoove him for the moment, he knew, to remain as silent as possible.

“It is most impressive that you were able to find our empire,” the Emperor said from atop his mighty throne. He sat, fingers pressed together at the temple, and eyed the morsel that had been brought before him by his guards. Not even he, on the outskirts of space, could have missed news of the charismatic champion of the Republic who beat back the Mandalorians single-handedly. He had been of half a mind to seek the boy out, but as he simply dropped into his lap… well, fortune favored him indeed. “A pity should you not be able to live beyond that discovery.”

Life within the shadows was a difficult thing for the Sith Emperor, who had created an entire empire around his mysterious appearance. No one truly knew what to expect of him nor could they properly formulate strategies to overthrow him. He was an enigma that continued to confound even his closest advisers and by forwarding his messages through the Council of Twelve, he had done well to diffuse power over enough underlings to keep them from making serious grabs for power. It was that clever mind of his that had brought the two Jedi under his heel at that moment, and that clever mind that allowed him to consider all the possibility that could come from watching them squirm.

A dry chuckle, hollow and desiccated enough to crumble upon its utterance, slipped past the Emperor’s lips and caressed the minds of those before him. “Truth be told, I had expected the revered Revan to be a larger man.”

“He’s bigger than you’ll ever be, you coward!” Alek shouted defiantly as he lifted his eyes toward the Emperor. In times past he had seen Revan as small and weak as well, but there was a passion within the man that spoke much louder than any physical grace the Force may have gifted him with. He was his twinkle; a small effect that could be seen from lightyears away. To show his vexation Alek attempted to break the restraints upon his wrist but found them, as always, too powerful to break. His muscles bulged then within the confines of his garments, which made it appear like small rats were scurrying up and down upon his well-conditioned body.

In response to Alek’s outburst, the Sith Emperor lifted an eyebrow and waved but a finger in the boy’s direction. Where once he had been a struggling, raging lunatic now did the Jedi become a tormented series of screams and paroxysms as his body was overwhelmed with the dark hand of the Force. His every thought led to a still more painful one and try as he might to free himself he pitched to the ground and rolled about miserably. “I am not in the habit of tolerating childish displays, boy. I fear I am too set in my ways to change now.”

“What is it that you want from us?” Revan asked, his mind acutely aware of the power that the Emperor held. When it came to the arts of the galaxy he knew of two intimately – control over the Force and how to properly kiss a man. Considering that the latter skill was probably not going to come in much use when dealing with a stogy fiend like the Emperor, he instead had to focus upon the former. And what was there? Well, he could tell by the man’s command of the Force that he was powerful, perhaps the most powerful being he had ever encountered. The sound of Alek’s screams against his mind were tormenting and try as he might to divorce them from his logical process, he could not. If not for the mask that he wore the grimace that he held would have been easily seen. Of course, emotions were not so easily hidden. “You did not bring us here for simple games.”

“Right you are,” the Emperor said as he lowered his finger and Alek’s torment was brought to an end. He turned his hand over, a simple gesture that in turn forced Alek to roll onto his back before with a curling of his fingers he brought him closer. “Then again, I did not intend to bring the two of you anywhere. You are the true champion here, Revan. This boy is nothing more than a trinket; he provides little usage other than to occupy space.”

The words were spoken with such a grim finality and jovial maliciousness that Revan feared the worst for Alek. Seeing the man’s tattooed head against the darkened shadows of the Sith Emperor’s throne was not at all dissimilar from witnessing one’s child in the shadow of a wolf. Alek turned his head away from the shadow and clenched his jaw, his struggling muted though ever active as he fought to find a way out of his manacles. It would be to no avail, he knew, but to simply lie there and take his punishment was never the way he had been.

“Without him, I would not have been able to accomplish any of that which I have,” Revan stated without shame. “If you must end one of us, I would rather it be me.”

“Of course you would,” the Emperor said. “It would be a simple thing for you to sacrifice yourself for a friend. Do the Jedi not teach these things? Even easier still would it be for you to sacrifice yourself for… something more,” the Emperor drawled with a delighted chuckle. He lifted his hand then, touching against Alek’s jaw and carefully tapping his fingers against his ruggedly handsome features; the same features that Revan’s lips had showered with affections so many times in the past. “But they do not teach you to feel desire, do they? I should rid you of him so that your masters would better accept you for who – what… you are. The Council rarely accepts love, as you well know, and never have they accepted... man-love."

There was truth to the Emperor’s words, even if Revan did not want to see them. While he would be justified in sacrificing himself for Alek, they also would have been mollified to know why that he did it. His life had become increasingly complicated when he found that his feelings for Alek went beyond that of friends and try as he might to reconcile it with some just penance he was forced to endure from the Force, he knew that it was simple as his body greatly desiring the man that had been close to him for so long.

Of course, there was the realization that the Emperor could end that all. With a flick of his wrist he could kill Alek, whose death would give him reason to fight on, and who would forever be immortalized in the annals of history as a true hero lost at the hands of a tyrant. If he simply did not act he would have been capable of changing both of their entries in history for the better. Revan bowed his head and closed his eyes, his face immeasurably hot due to the fact he wore a mask in the midst of a sweltering chamber. He could simply wait this out and everything would be better.

But in the darkness of his mind, Revan knew well that there was to know about Alek. He replayed the look of horror on his face when they were captured; the need to be protected that came from his big, burly friend. He thought of how the Sith Emperor had brought him such pain and torment and even went so far as to think of the man’s hands caressing a face that only he should have touched. These events playing within his head were too much – he could not allow his beloved to become but a statistic in a never ending war.

Revan’s head snapped upward as he brought his arms away from one another. Where the restraints should have held instead they slipped apart, granting him a freedom of movement the likes of which not even the Sith Emperor could have prepared for. He held his hand out to the left and willed his lightsaber into his grasp, then sprang into the air with an agility that bespoke a mastery of the Force worthy of being placed into legend. Compressing the activation plate of the weapon, as it sprang to life he turned about sharply and dispatched a succinct slash into an approaching palace guard, effectively ending the man’s life before he had time to ready his weapon. The swiveling of his cloak created a visual illusion that did well to prevent the other from recognizing his movement in his direction, which culminated in his hand extending outward to protect a wall of the Force toward him and repel him into the distance.

“So there is fight within the legendary Jedi after all,” the Emperor chuckled as Revan set to dismantling his guards one by one. Each that died was of little value to him – if they were too weak to defend against the Jedi then what purpose did they serve? Instead he watched, bemused, as Revan fought through the throngs toward their position.

He knew that he was not the best lightsaber duelist to ever live, but what Revan was certain of was that he could defeat those that were before him. Utilizing the Force he struck one in the abdomen and forced him to double over, then rolled over his back and ripped his lightsaber upward to bisect the man’s chest. Twisting about sharply, he checked an incoming slash and slid to the side only to twirl his wrist and cut low at the back of the guard’s legs, instantly sending him to the ground. Another surged toward him with an intensity that refused to be denied, yet rather than engage him head-on Revan drifted backwards, dodging and weaving out of the way of his flurried slashes before he shoved his lightsaber’s hilt directly into the man’s throat and ripped upward from his lowered position.

The carnage continued unabated until finally the last guard fell gurgling to his knees and expired. Revan lowered his clenched fist then, his chest rising and falling as he focused his attention upon the Sith Emperor. As his cloak settled into place once more, the last of the twitching guards surrendered his grasp on life, leaving the Jedi a silent sentinel in the midst of the viscera he had opened to the throne room. Only the tapping of blood escaping the hilt of his weapon sounded against the walls of the enclosure, until finally the Sith Emperor drew his hands together with a steady clap.

“Well done,” he said good-humoredly. “I have not seen fighting like that in well over a millennia, which says quite a bit as I am an innumerably old and wise fellow.”

“Enough pleasantries,” Revan growled. “Give me Alek and get out of my way.”

“I see that when you’ve had a bit of fighting you become a little less controllable,” the Emperor chided. “I like it. Willfull; powerful. Are you so certain that the path of the Jedi is one meant for you? Look around you, those men you fought could have slain 10 Mandalorians on their own and yet you defeated them single-handedly. Is that not something to be proud of?”

“Give me Alek,” Revan repeated, his voice almost a hiss as the acrimony and malice in his body came to a boiling point.

The Emperor sat back within his throne. “I am afraid that we Sith do not give ¬anything, my boy. If you desire your precious Alek back, then earn him.”

Given that he had just dispatched the man’s elite guard, Revan was hardly in the mood to be played with any longer. He growled and began to progress toward the Emperor, only to find that his advance was suddenly checked. Gasping he took a step backward and looked on in disbelief; never before had he felt so helpless, so weak, so pathetic, as he did at that moment.

For the Sith Emperor’s grasp upon the Force was indeed a powerful thing. So powerful, in fact, that it had done well to strike Revan in a manner that he had not imagined. It did not act directly upon him as a storm of lightning or painful strike to the solar plexus. No, that would have been too pedestrian for the grandiose emperor. Instead, it presented him with an eventuality the likes of which not even he, the Great Revan, could have planned for.

Before him stood Alek.

His lightsaber was activated.