In the throne room of a vanished ruler of a lost Empire, two figures stood opposite each other. Strangers from another time, natives of another era. Raised in different cultures, they had met on opposite sides of the barricades but were forced to unite. A union that ended in betrayal.
Revan peered through the visor of his mask at the face of the murderer, the one who had ended an unarmed life with a treacherous stab in the back.
Mira's shocked gaze was vividly before the former Jedi's eyes, evoking guilt and regret. And hatred. Pure and unadulterated hatred for the pureblood Sith standing opposite him.
Scourge looked relaxed... almost tired. His shoulders were slumped too low for readiness for battle. His gaze was unreadable. The arrogance of a pureblood and the Darkness – that was what Revan saw in the crimson eyes of the Dark Side adept.
"I foresaw your arrival, Master," the Sith said slowly.
A swing of a silver blade, and a wave of Force, channeled through the weapon by its owner, erupted from the edge.
A crimson streak of a vertical strike.
Scourge managed to deflect the attack, splitting the wave in two. The columns on either side of the throne exploded into a fan of debris.
"I see you're not in a mood to talk?" the Sith asked with a slight smirk.
Revan merely snorted contemptuously.
"I have nothing to discuss with you."
"Won't you even listen? Don't you want to know the reason?" Scourge grinned and began to descend the pedestal slowly, his crimson blade activated.
"Give me back my friend and family, traitor," Revan hissed, lunging forward.
The pureblood wore heavy Sith armor, familiar to the former Jedi. Fighters who practiced a forceful combat style favored such armor. And, if memory served, Scourge was one of them. The armor model was relatively new, meaning it was custom-made from modern materials. This was both good and bad.
The blades clashed with a screech. The more agile Revan attacked swiftly, intending to flank. However, the Sith anticipated the maneuver and managed to deflect every blow. But he was not ready for the telekinetic strike to the knee. The Force-infused kick from a Mandalorian armored boot slammed into the chin of the red-skinned lord, sending Scourge flying towards the foot of the Emperor's throne.
The blow was monstrous in its force, and if not for the armor's collar, the cervical vertebrae would not have withstood such abuse.
The Sith barely managed to roll aside as two blades plunged into the spot where he had lain moments before.
The Force push with which Scourge intended to break the distance was simply ignored by Revan, who utilized absorption.
The Sith deflected the next series of blows while kneeling on one knee, unable to find an opportunity to rise.
Revan was fast and incredibly strong, which again evoked a nearly forgotten sense of awe in Scourge. The same awe he had felt after long conversations with the captive Jedi in the dungeons of Nar Shaddaa. The shock and awe that had gripped the Sith when Revan, with a single blow, destroyed one of the members of the Dark Council, even while weakened by years of imprisonment and sedatives.
"Could he have won then?" the thought arose in the pureblood, barely holding back his opponent's onslaught.
And in the next moment, the silver blade deflected the crimson one, opening the way for its black counterpart. The blade of Revan's second saber screeched as it entered the Sith's breastplate.
The opponents froze.
Scourge slowly lowered his gaze to the blade protruding from his chest. The black blade with golden trim had entered almost two-thirds of the way and had clearly exited the back.
"For Mira," Revan said quietly.
The hand gripping the weapon that was supposed to end the Sith's life twitched back, intending to withdraw the blade from the enemy's body. But Scourge did not allow it. His armored gauntlet grabbed Revan's forearm, crushing it in a steel grip.
The rage that engulfed Revan helped him direct the Dark Side's energy correctly, strengthening his body and increasing his speed. Only when the black blade found its mark did he allow himself to calm down a little.
Scourge was a good fighter, the best he had encountered since awakening in his new body. Yet, it was not enough. Few could rival Revan in swordsmanship. Arren Kae had once compared him to ancient masters like Tulak Hord. Therefore, the former Jedi was quite confident in his abilities, as well as in the fact that the blow that had struck a nerve cluster just below the heart should have incapacitated the opponent, causing him monstrous pain.
And to his surprise, Scourge, as if not even noticing the wound, grabbed his hand, nearly breaking his bones, and delivered a blow of terrifying force from top to bottom with his own blade.
In any other situation, Revan would not have risked taking such an attack with a rigid block, realizing the difference in physical strength. But, deprived of maneuvering space, he saw no other way.
The silver blade, amplified by a telekinetic impulse, stood in the path of the crimson blade that threatened to sever the former Jedi's left arm. The hilt was almost knocked from his fingers as the full force of the blow crashed down on the saber's plasma arc. Even with the Force's support, Revan barely held back the attack, scorching his own sleeve with his own blade.
But he missed the blow with the hilt swung sideways. The mask clanged as the Sith's armored gauntlet struck his left cheekbone. Revan almost lost his balance but regained himself in time, deflecting another blow.
He couldn't pull his hand out of the grip. The Sith simply didn't let him concentrate on it, showering Revan with more blows.
Finally, seizing a moment for concentration, the former Jedi telekinetically grabbed the opponent's gauntlet, with the saber hilt still in it, forcing it to freeze in mid-air.
Another pause ensued. Revan couldn't free his hand from Scourge's grip, and the latter, in turn, couldn't strike.
"How?" Revan gasped, trying to understand why his opponent was still able to move.
"My life is pain," the Sith said, his crimson eyes flashing, and he released his grip, letting go of his opponent.
A radial telekinetic blast, employed by Scourge, pushed Revan back, sending him flying towards the nearest wall. However, the former Jedi managed to turn in mid-air and, pushing off the obstacle with his feet, attacked again.
Scourge felt the thrill of battle, lost for centuries, once more! Here he was, the one he had waited for for so many years! A rival! A mentor! A mighty opponent! Hope... for long-awaited peace.
The fighters clashed, furiously attacking each other, as if trying to emphasize that what had preceded was not a real fight, but merely a game. The speed increased tenfold. The Force strikes cracked the stone vaults of the throne room. Columns shook and became covered in cracks.
The opponents did not shy away from using their surroundings to gain an advantage. From time to time, stone debris and remnants of the throne, destroyed in the heat of battle, threatened to knock the opponent off their feet.
Here, Revan let a boulder that should have pierced his skull fly past him and attacked the exposed enemy with a torrent of branching lightning.
Only a few seconds later could Scourge regain control of his body's muscles and raise his saber in the path of the Force lightning, deflecting the attack.
Revan's new attack met almost no resistance from the Sith, who was still recovering. Three deep wounds on his left side were the price for his lost vigilance.
However, this seemed not to bother Scourge in the least. He turned and resumed his stance as if nothing had happened.
"Vitiate did something to you," Revan stated, acknowledging the low effectiveness of his attacks.
"He rewarded me," the Sith growled in response, lunging towards the former Jedi.
The red-skinned man's speed and strength increased. In addition, he used a rather peculiar fencing style, combining elements of the fifth and sixth forms of combat, Shii-Cho and Niman, respectively. And while Niman was quite familiar to Revan, Shii-Cho had been significantly reworked, as if specifically adapted for dueling, similar to Makashi. Among other things, it was felt that the Sith had studied not only lightsaber forms but also drew knowledge from the combat skills of Echani, Mandalorians, and many other peoples, which allowed him to develop his own style capable of surprising even such an experienced fighter as Revan.
The Sith's next series of blows ended with the former Jedi receiving a short, scorching scratch on his breastplate, barely managing to dodge a horizontal strike.
Scourge seemed to grow stronger with each minute. Or was Revan slowing down?
Even with the hurricane of emotions raging in his mind, the former Jedi managed to analyze his opponent's actions, not allowing his mind to fully surrender to rage and Darkness. Emotions fueled the Dark Side and...
Revan cursed, realizing his mistake. Back in the dungeons of Nar Shaddaa, Scourge had once let slip about his special talent, which not every Sith possessed.
This particular pureblood had an innate ability to use not only his own emotions for amplification but also subconsciously fed on the Dark Side energy that his opponent used. The opponent's fear and anger only strengthened the Sith. This made him an ideal fighter against other Dark Side adepts, which attracted the attention of Nar Shaddaa, who needed a hired assassin to eliminate those who disagreed with her. And ultimately, to assassinate the Emperor himself.
However, this was also Scourge's main weakness. If the opponent did not experience strong emotions or used only the Light Side of the Force, his effectiveness plummeted. The situation was worse with droids, who, according to stories, had nearly killed him on one mission for Darth Nar Shaddaa.
Revan was feeding Scourge his own anger. Taking control of himself and clearing his mind proved harder than usual. The thought that the person standing before him was responsible for his friend's death constantly raged in his mind. The one because of whom Revan never returned to Bastila. A traitor.
He had to summon all the composure and concentration the former Jedi was capable of. The Order's Code did not help him calm down, so Revan focused on the image of Bastila.
A scene from their short but happy family life flashed in his memory. His beloved sat in a chair on the balcony of their cozy apartment on Coruscant. Her chestnut hair, this time not styled, fluttered freely in the wind. Bastila's peaceful face, admiring the sunset, was especially beautiful that day. Her blue eyes radiated happiness, and a sweet smile played on her lips. Perhaps it was then that she learned she was carrying their child?
Revan took a deep breath, feeling the Darkness leave his body, leaving a sense of peace and lightness that attracted a rare side of the Force to this world. The Light, which had visited the throne room only a few times in the Citadel's entire existence, readily rushed to the aid of its adept, giving Revan the strength to apply Force Valor.
Scourge's new attack met an equal and powerful resistance.
After deflecting the first blow, Revan threw his black saber behind the Sith, then deflected another attack with his left palm. Without losing speed, the former Jedi spun around and diagonally struck Scourge in the chest. At the same moment, the telekinetically guided black saber struck the opponent's left hand, which was raised to strike, knocking the saber from it.
The final blow, which was supposed to end the confrontation, hit Scourge's left pauldron. Revan noticed the unusual sheen of the metal covering this armor element too late. Upon contact with the cortosis plating, the plasma arc of the silver blade destabilized and disappeared.
The Sith took advantage of the moment of confusion to deliver a powerful blow to the opponent's abdomen. However, Revan was slightly faster, discarding the now useless saber, he managed to intercept the Sith's fist and deflect it slightly to the side, exposing Scourge's head for a counter-strike.
Blocking the enemy's second hand as well, Revan slammed the frontal plate of his mask precisely into the red-skinned man's bridge of the nose, forcing him to recoil.
Grabbing Scourge's hands, the former Jedi prevented him from moving away, then struck him in the stomach with his knee. The armor plates absorbed most of the impact's energy, but the remainder was enough to make the Sith lean forward again, trying to regain his balance. Where he was met by a jumping knee strike.
Thrown back, Scourge fell onto his back and didn't even have time to move before Revan landed on his chest, pinning him to the ground. The black saber severed one of the growths on his chin and burned his neck, preventing the Sith from escaping.
It only took a slight shift of the saber to sever the traitor's head from his body, finally restoring justice.
"Last words?" Revan asked in a calm voice.
His mind was clear, as never before. Combat trance allowed him to cast aside anger and resentment, giving him the opportunity to use the pure power of the Light.
The Sith smiled almost imperceptibly, which surprised the former Jedi. Was he happy to be defeated?
"I won't make excuses if that's what you're waiting for," Scourge spat, trying to look into Revan's eyes, hidden behind the mask's visor.
"There is no death, there is the Great Force," the former Jedi quoted, preparing to end the Sith's prolonged life.
Suddenly, he felt a touch on his shoulder. Soft and very familiar. There was no alarm, the Force did not warn of danger, rather it urged him to turn around and satisfy his sudden curiosity.
Giving in to the impulse, Revan turned his head and saw a woman's hand, covered in a bluish glow, gripping his shoulder. A familiar feeling of a friend's presence followed. Looking up at the unexpected visitor, the former Jedi could hardly believe his eyes.
Behind him, leaning towards him, stood Mira Surik. This was not a phantom or a delusion, as the Force would have indicated. No. This was a true Force Ghost. Revan would not have mistaken his companion's spirit for anyone else's. She had followed him into battle during the Mandalorian Wars, survived the catastrophe on Malachor, she had come for him on Dromund Kaas, felt the emptiness of Nathema, and followed him into battle against the Emperor. And even after death, for three hundred years, the spirit of his deceased friend had sustained him. So Revan simply could not have mistaken her, or his beloved Bastila.
"Mira," he addressed the ghost with a smile.
"Greetings, old friend," she nodded, smiling warmly in return.
"What are you doing here? I thought you had merged with the Force long ago."
"I came to stop you from making another mistake, Revan," the girl nodded towards Scourge, pinned to the floor.
Revan turned to the Sith, who was looking directly at Mira, which indicated that he could also see her.
"You came because of him? Why?" the former Jedi asked, his voice tinged with surprise.
"To restore justice," Surik announced.
"To watch me end his life?" Revan asked, almost breaking into a roar from the reawakened emotions.
"No," Mira cut him off, "I am here to save him."
"What?" the former Jedi turned to the Force ghost, not understanding why Surik had said that. "What do you mean? He betrayed us! He killed you!"
"He saved you, protected your family and the Republic itself, paying only one life in return," the exiled Jedi declared.
"What are you talking about?" Revan was confused.
"Lower your saber, he will tell you everything himself," the girl nodded at the Sith, "And, for the Great Force, try to listen to him, my friend."
Reluctantly, Revan nevertheless obeyed Surik's request, releasing Scourge and allowing him to stand.
"I'm listening," the former Jedi said.
The Sith straightened up and brushed dust and stone chips from his armor and cloak remnants. Revan managed to notice wounds that had already begun to heal visible through the gaps in the armor.
"I said I wasn't going to make excuses," Scourge crossed his arms over his chest.
"Oh, Force, stubborn as a bantha! I had hoped that a long life would improve your character," Mira exclaimed, throwing her hands up, "Tell him everything, or I will."
"No."
"Grr, then it will be the short version," Surik said irritably, turning to Revan.
"The version of what?" the former Jedi asked.
"Of the events of the day we went to kill the Emperor. You didn't know that this idiot had a vision, did you?"
"Who? The Emperor?"
"Scourge!"
"Scourge?"
"Is this an echo? Yes, Scourge had a vision. He saw our defeat. The death of the entire squad at Vitiate's hands," Mira replied, gradually changing her tone from irritated to her usual calm one.
Revan shifted his gaze to the Sith. Something surfaced in the former Jedi's memory, causing him to almost open his mouth in realization of the hidden truth.
"So that's why you were asking me about visions! Whether what is destined can be changed... Why did you keep silent about the reason for your questions?"
"And if by doing so I had only made things worse? Didn't you tell me about the danger of foresight back then? Trying to change everything could only have brought about the sad outcome of our mission," Scourge finally condescended to answer.
"You could have told..."
"And what would that have changed? Would you have believed me? Would you have canceled the attack?" the Sith scoffed.
Revan wanted to object, but realized Scourge was right. Few Sith possessed the gift of foresight. The Dark Side hid the future even from its own adepts. To believe a Sith and cancel the plan to destroy their Emperor?
"No," Revan shook his head, "You're right. I wouldn't have believed you. Even now, I can hardly admit, and only thanks to Mira, that such a thing could have happened."
"That's what I thought," Scourge grinned, "I had to find a way myself."
"And you decided to betray us to save yourself?" Revan almost flared up.
"No. The reason was different."
"Which one?"
"A new vision."
"Another one?"
"Yes."
Revan gritted his teeth, but still asked about the content of the conveniently timed vision.
"I saw the Emperor's death. But it was destined for another to kill him, and not on that day. And I had to be by the side of the one who would slay Vitiate. Thus the Force commanded. But I could only survive the attack on the Emperor in one way."
"Pretend it was part of your plan to expose the conspiracy?" Revan suggested, no stranger to the intrigues that invariably surrounded power.
"Yes," Scourge nodded, "I could only play the role of a double traitor who was actually loyal to the Emperor and led his enemies to their execution."
"But for Vitiate to believe this, strong evidence was needed," Mira added.
"Our death," Revan agreed, "And specifically at the hands of a traitor."
"Yes," Surik agreed.
"That's how it was," Scourge nodded, frowning as if in pain, "Mira's lightsaber throw decided everything. Instead of killing the Emperor, who had opened himself for a strike, she chose to deflect his blade, saving your life. The outcome was clear. You, Revan, were wounded, Mira was disarmed, and I was exhausted from the fight with Yarrick. We had no more chances against the Emperor... I did the only thing I could."
"Killed me and betrayed you," Mira finished for the Sith.
Silence fell. Revan pondered the information received, trying to decide for himself whether it was sufficient justification for Scourge.
"You said he saved my family. What does that mean?" Revan decided to clarify.
"Thanks to the fact that you remained alive and could influence Vitiate's mind, the Emperor did not dare to attack the Republic for another three hundred years. Bastila and Vaner managed to live their lives, avoiding the horrors of war. Scourge's choice gave you a chance to protect what is most precious."
Revan plunged into thought again. He was torn by conflicting feelings. On the one hand, everything was as Mira said. Scourge had given him the opportunity to confront the Emperor where his immortality and boundless power were of no use. However... the arguments were quite weak. After all, it could have turned out differently.
"No, don't deceive yourself, Revan," the former Jedi advised himself mentally, "Vitiate would not have spared you. Remember your state at that moment. Mira and the Hutt traitor would not have managed on their own. You are alive only because the Emperor decided to test Scourge's loyalty by ordering you killed."
"And when the Emperor finally decided to attack," Surik spoke again, "Scourge did everything to find someone capable of stopping Vitiate. And he found him."
"Found him?"
"The Hero of Tython," Scourge confirmed reluctantly, "Honestly, I can't even remember his gender now... male or female... it doesn't matter. Neither the name nor the face remained in my memory. Only the nickname."
"It was a man," Surik prompted, "His name was Kassen Dwaar. A talented padawan who quickly reached the rank of knight and confronted the Emperor, executing a very daring plan to eliminate him."
"Kassen... hmm, maybe Kassen," Scourge shrugged, "Almost four thousand years have passed. I remember a girl was with him. One of the former cultists who served the Emperor. Desperate, though foolish."
Something didn't sit right with the former Jedi.
"Wait a second, you're saying you've lived for four thousand years?"
"Yes," Scourge nodded.
"How?"
"The Emperor's reward," the Sith practically spat out, contorting his face.
"What did he do?" Revan frowned, already guessing the answer.
"He performed a ritual on me that gave me immortality and allowed me to heal even mortal wounds quickly at times."
"A ritual?" the former Jedi grew even more somber, remembering the devastated homeworld of Vitiate.
"No, not that abomination he created on Nathema," Scourge guessed Revan's thoughts, "The Emperor wouldn't allow anyone to even come close to his power."
"I see," Revan nodded, "That's why you were able to live until our meeting... And withstand my blows?"
"Yes."
"And the pain? I pierced you several times where it hurts the most."
"Pain is my whole life," the Sith replied seriously, "I've felt it every second since that day."
"What do you mean?" Revan didn't understand.
"The ritual," Surik explained, "The price of immortality is unending and unceasing pain felt by every cell."
"The Force," Revan exhaled, realizing what he had just heard, "How do you live? How have you not gone mad?"
"When you live with pain day after day, year after year... you simply stop noticing it. The trouble is, you stop feeling everything else too. I don't taste food, I can't feel the warmth of another being's touch, I don't sleep, I only meditate," Scourge replied with poorly concealed longing and weariness in his voice, "As for madness... Why do you think I've retained my sanity?"
Revan found nothing to say.
"I've gone mad and pieced my mind back together countless times over these four thousand years. I've wandered the galaxy, studied different aspects of the Force. I spent three hundred years on Korriban in continuous meditation, which was more like stasis. But what helped me was the ability to set goals for myself."
"What kind of goal?" Revan clarified.
"Not a specific one, no. Just a goal," the Sith shook his head, "At first, to kill the Emperor. And when he was gone, I decided to accompany the Hero of Tython. Don't you remember? You met on Lehon."
The former Jedi shook his head.
"I barely remember those events, as if they didn't happen to me at all."
"Hmm. I see," Scourge nodded to his thoughts.
"And what did you do next?"
"Many things," the Sith shrugged, "I helped the Revanites for a long time."
"Who?" Revan asked again.
"Revanites. It's a sect that appeared when rumors spread that the Emperor was holding a powerful Force adept captive to sustain his own life. Someone blurted out that this adept was actually the Emperor's former agent who had become too strong and returned to overthrow him. They even learned your name," the Sith chuckled, "Thus arose the Revanite movement, who considered you the Force's chosen true Emperor, who had long dealt with Vitiate and taken his place."
"Incredible."
"But it's a fact," Scourge grunted, "They were caught, exterminated, but couldn't be completely eradicated. Their actions largely led to Vitiate's overthrow and the Republic's victory... even though the Revanites themselves didn't aim for such an outcome."
Revan was surprised that his name had become a common noun again. Following the Revanites, as the Council called them, who had left the Order, there were now the Revanites.
"You said you covered for them?" Revan clarified.
"Yes," Scourge nodded, "I distracted the Imperial Security Bureau. I set up particularly zealous lords who were eager to investigate the cult's activities. I even sent a promising Sith to aid the Revanites, who later took my place as the Emperor's Wrath."
"Emperor's Wrath?"
"Didn't I say?"
Revan shook his head.
"After the ritual, the Emperor made me his personal agent, independent of the Dark Council and subordinate only to his will. I became known as the Emperor's Wrath, as I became his punishing hand, disregarding the power or status of any being displeasing to Vitiate."
"An executioner," Revan concluded.
"Mostly... but at the same time, something more," the Sith shrugged, "In any case, I even joined the cult for a time until the Empire finally fell. Then I went to Korriban, where I sat in Darth Andjanta Pall's tomb for three hundred years. It was an educational experience."
"Darth Andjanta Pall's spirit left the tomb," Revan recalled one of the episodes from his own past.
"He was freed from his chains, but didn't leave," Scourge objected, "And what prevented him from announcing himself again? You see Meetra Surik here now. And she has also left this world more than once. She, you might say, saved me too."
"What do you mean?" Revan clarified.
Scourge looked into Meetra's face and, after her approving nod, continued his story.
"You can't imagine what it's like to live in constant agony," the Sith said, rubbing the growths on his forehead, "On top of everything, I started having visions. I saw the Emperor torturing you again and again, and then draining your life force, not letting you recover. I saw Meetra, invisible to everyone, circling around you, supporting you and keeping your mind from fading."
"At first, I thought the cause was guilt. I even thought my sanity was finally leaving me, until I realized my visions were real. I don't know why, but the Force sent me images from the past, present, and even the future, revealing many mysteries. To this day, I possess this... cursed gift."
"But how is Meetra involved here?" Revan didn't understand.
"About a hundred years after the ritual, I felt that I couldn't live like this anymore. My mind was too tired. Pain, guilt, despair... I was barely holding on," Scourge spoke with undisguised pain in his voice, showing weakness and true emotions that had apparently resurfaced under the influence of memories, "And then Meetra appeared to me. Her ghost."
"I felt that he needed help," Surik explained, "After his blow, we became connected. The killer and the killed, these Force bonds are as strong as the bonds between a mentor and a student. Even though they were established unconsciously, under the influence of regret."
"She saved me from myself," Scourge added.
"How?" Revan asked.
"She forgave me," the Sith replied, smiling almost imperceptibly, "And then she appeared to me more than once in visions and as a ghost, helping me restore my sanity when I was on the brink."
Revan was impressed by such a revelation. He had no idea of the power Meetra possessed. And how pure and unwavering her spirit was. She found the strength to forgive the one who had ended her life. She managed to protect Revan from the Emperor. She helped Scourge... Truly, all of Revan's deeds paled in comparison. And he would have to try very hard to even come close to the one who was once his student.
"I don't know if I could live like you, Scourge," Revan voiced his thoughts.
"And what choice did I have?" the Sith chuckled, "Suicide?"
"Of course not," the former Jedi objected.
"Exactly," Scourge nodded, "To take one's life is to surrender, to show weakness. A Sith cannot be weak! A Sith meets his death in battle, with his head held high. We are not the kind to die quietly, whimpering in a corner. That is the lot of the weak-willed slaves."
The true nature of a pure-blood Sith re-emerged, returning Scourge's usual arrogant expression to Revan.
"But, it's not like I didn't try," Scourge faltered slightly.
"What?"
"Death in battle," the Sith explained, "I sought it."
Revan nodded understandingly. He was familiar with this feeling.
"Only, not everyone is capable of killing me, right?" Scourge chuckled.
Revan recalled their fight and had to admit that it hadn't been easy. Scourge possessed exceptional skills, which he had obviously honed over centuries.
"Yeah," Revan nodded, "You're an impressive fighter."
"Your praise means a lot to me... teacher," Scourge gave a short bow.
"I am not your teacher," Revan objected.
"You may not consider yourself one," the Sith waved it off, "But I've always thought of you in that way. After all, it was you who taught me foresight, even while imprisoned by Nyriss. You showed me another side of the Force, taught me to use my emotions like no one else. You are my mentor, Revan. And nothing will change that."
This admission embarrassed the former Jedi, as he had only used Scourge to escape.
"I know that your goal wasn't my training. I know that you intended to escape with my help," Scourge seemed to read his thoughts, "It changes nothing. I am grateful to you, mentor."
Revan cleared his throat, trying to regain his suddenly lost confidence. The Hutt Sith had thrown him off balance.
"And yet, I didn't teach you to fence like that," Revan changed the subject, "What is this strange Shien? I've never seen the fifth form used like that."
"It's not Shien," Scourge shook his head, "Djem So, its altered version, which appeared... may the Force grant me memory... shortly before the Ruusan campaign and the next war between the Sith and the Jedi."
The meaning of what was said didn't immediately dawn on Revan. How many conflicts had Scourge witnessed in his long life? How many had he participated in? How had he managed to remain in the shadows all this time?
It turned out that Revan had spoken some of his thoughts aloud.
"The war between Light and Dark never ceases," Scourge answered the accidentally asked question, "In one form or another, the struggle is always ongoing."
"Balance must be found, sooner or later," Revan remarked.
The Sith nodded in agreement, then shook his head.
"I've seen too many conflicts to believe in a bright future, Revan," Scourge looked up at the ceiling, seeking support from the ancient vaults, or simply gathering his thoughts, "I've seen the rise of the Lords, their inevitable fall. I've fought on the side of the Light and killed the enemies of the Dark. The galaxy has been swaying back and forth for millennia. It needs someone to show the way. But it's definitely not me."
"And not me," Revan remarked almost inaudibly.
Meetra snorted, suppressing a giggle.
"Don't be so hard on yourself," Scourge chuckled, "However, this is not the reason I invited you to Dromund Kaas."
"So it was you after all?"
"Me," the Sith nodded, "Though someone tried to do it before me."
"Who?"
"Someone named Sidious, do you know him?"
"We've met," Revan gritted his teeth.
"He recently opened a path to Dromund Kaas, though they tried to keep it secret. It seems he decided to subjugate the Prophets."
"Who?" Revan asked again.
"There's a cult on the planet that appeared less than a thousand years ago. They settled in an ancient temple and preach what I consider a strange doctrine about the Dark Side. A bunch of gullible idiots," Scourge said contemptuously, "But we've strayed from the topic again. There will be time to discuss my long life and Sidious. I called you because the Force itself is in danger."
"What?"
"Many hundreds of years ago, I had a vision," the Sith explained, "About a threat that will destroy our galaxy if we do nothing. Something is approaching our world from the depths of dark space. Something evil and ruthless, contrary to the Force itself. No one will escape it."
"What is it?"
"An enemy."
"Who exactly?" Revan insisted on an answer.
"I can't describe it precisely. You understand that the Force rarely gives clear images. But I am sure of one thing: if we don't resist, everyone will perish."
The wording was more than vague, but there was no lie in his words. Scourge was sure of what he was saying. And the Force itself had hinted at something similar to him. Could all this be true?
"How much time do we have?"
"Not much," Scourge frowned, "A hundred years, no more."
"Not much, by your standards."
"Not much, by galactic standards," Scourge retorted, "Believe me, I've tried to prepare. And not once. I bet on the Dark Side, but Bane... the fool destroyed everything, taking the Sith into the shadows. I tried to help the Light, but Ruusan took away the Jedi's weapons, tying their hands. Neither side alone will stand! Therefore, we need you! Someone who has known both sides, who understands it like no other."
"I'm just one person!" Revan retorted heatedly.
"Four thousand years ago, you were also alone! And that didn't stop you from turning the galaxy upside down! Destroying the Republic to make it stronger and prepare it for the encounter with the Empire of the True Sith! You have no idea what you are capable of! I believe that you are the one who can find a way to unite Light and Darkness, so that the galaxy can endure! So that the Force itself can survive!"
Revan remained silent. He resisted the thought of his own exceptionalism, understanding that he was not perfect and had made many mistakes. How could he take on such responsibility?
Chosenness...
The Jedi also fussed about a prophecy of the Chosen One.
The Sith awaited the coming of the true Sith'ari and in the end almost perished.
"And I believe in you, old friend," Meetra's voice broke the silence.
"You don't understand what you're asking," Revan replied, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions.
"No one understands," Surik shrugged, "But the task doesn't become any less important. You'll come to it yourself. We're just saving time, which is already scarce."
The former Jedi sighed resignedly.
"I already have one Chosen One on my neck."
"He is part of what is coming," Scourge spoke again, "Even without realizing it, you are already walking a predetermined path."
"Nothing is predetermined!" Revan snapped, "There is no fate, there is..."
"The Force," all three finished the sentence in unison.
The echo of three voices lingered in the throne room for a few more seconds, repeating what was said again and again.
All this time, Revan, like his two old acquaintances, remained silent. He had long understood that he hadn't reappeared in this world for no reason. But it was not easy to comprehend the responsibility they were trying to place on his shoulders. And even harder to accept.
He had saved the galaxy his whole past life... And in the end, he lost everything. And this is his reward? Another journey? He had just found hope of meeting... Or was it all planned...
"You understand that I can't give you an answer right now, can you?" Revan asked.
"Of course," Scourge nodded.
"You don't have to agree at all," Meetra added, "But sooner or later, you will have to face the predetermined threat. And it would be better to prepare in advance, wouldn't it?"
"You've always been perceptive, Surik," Revan chuckled, "I'm used to believing your opinion."
"I don't ask for blind faith. I never have," Meetra replied dryly.
"I know. Sorry if I offended you in any way," the former Jedi raised his hands in a defensive gesture, "One question, if you'll allow it?"
"You didn't even need to ask permission," Surik shrugged, "What troubles you."
"Bastila," Revan answered.
Meetra smiled warmly at her old friend. Although she didn't get along with Shan, the exile understood Revan's feelings perfectly.
"What do you want to hear?"
"Do you feel her in the Force? Is there a chance she's also wandering somewhere as a Ghost?"
Surik immediately grew sad. She didn't want to upset Revan. However, she couldn't lie.
"If she were a ghost, do you think anything would stop her from meeting you?"
Revan shook his head.
"I sometimes feel her presence in the Force. She is still waiting for you, not letting her personality dissolve into the Great One."
"Then there is a chance," the former Jedi uttered almost inaudibly.
"What?" Meetra didn't hear.
"Nothing," Revan smiled back, "I'll think about your words, but even if I take on the role of the Chosen One... I'll need a lot of help."
"I'll help," Scourge immediately interjected, "But with one condition."
"What?" Revan frowned.
"When it's all over, I'll be dead," the Sith declared, "Whatever happens, after all this, I don't want to wander this world anymore."
Revan looked into Scourge's eyes in silence for a few seconds. The ancient Sith's gaze betrayed the weariness that had accumulated over years of wandering and incessant agony. That alone was enough to agree.
"Alright," Revan answered briefly.
The Sith nodded in return, smiling almost imperceptibly.
"But you alone won't be enough," the former Jedi reminded him, "If you remember, four thousand years ago, the Revanites followed me. I had an army, a fleet... The Star Forge."
Suddenly Scourge chuckled.
"You have no idea how much you already have."