The cold, damp air of the grim stone hall burned the lungs. The sensation of a beating heart in the chest, the warmth of one's own breath on a hand raised to the face. A half-forgotten feeling... Life.
Bastila Shan didn't understand where she was or how she got here. Why was she wearing armor? And... why was the skin on her hand, under the removed glove, blue?
What was happening? Her mind was clear... and empty.
Not a single useful thought or guess about what was going on. A sudden awakening on the floor and a swift battle in which Bastila acted almost instinctively. The opponent was a Sith... or a dark Jedi? The dark side was clearly readable in her distorted appearance and the raging Force around her. In her hands was a familiar blade, and the skills honed by years of training and combat returned with the very first swing.
The woman who acted as her opponent wielded the blade well, but her technique had too many familiar movements and combinations. As if training with a very restrained Revan.
Revan...
The thought of her missing husband cost Bastila her concentration, which her opponent almost took advantage of. The crimson blade was stopped by a yellow one just an inch from Shan's head. With a screech, Bastila's sword slid along the Sith's weapon, deflecting the threat aside, and a Force push, sent through the second blade, allowed her to break the distance and refocus.
But the fact that the unknown woman was copying Revan's style greatly unnerved Bastila, who had despaired of ever hearing anything about her husband again.
It seemed she had only recently warned Carth Onasi, who had become a Republic fleet admiral, about the threat Revan had sensed.
Shaking her head, Bastila banished the delusion and plunged back into battle. A Force lightning bolt passed by, missing the rapidly accelerating Shan. A jump closer, a swing from above, but, unexpectedly for her opponent, the second blade of the staff attacked, directly under the right elbow raised for a defensive stance. The Sith's armor only slightly slowed the blow and could not save its owner from the painful wound left by the yellow lightsaber.
The battle could have ended there, but the stranger wasn't going to give up. Despite her wound, she lunged at Bastila with a furious cry, in which even a person insensitive to the Force would have easily heard notes of despair. It was not in a Jedi's nature to kill those who could no longer fight. But there were exceptions. Especially when, somewhere deep inside, she could still hear the persistent advice of her husband, who had managed to train her – "don't leave enemies alive." A cruel instruction that appeared in cruel times... It was funny, but Revan himself didn't always follow it. How often they argued on this topic. Should one kill? Were reasons and justifications needed? Where was the line... and what would happen if it were crossed?
A single answer to these questions could not be found. Nor was there likely a sentient being in the world who could find it, even with all the time allotted to the universe. That's what Bastila thought... That's what Revan agreed with her.
But what about now? Should Shan have acted as she did. The yellow blade, as if having a will of its own, almost without the owner's participation, pierced the chest of the Sith opposite. The blow was precise... burning through the heart... Bastila knew that clearly. An echo of pain and departing life rippled through the Force.
The feeling of immediate threat disappeared, but the feeling of wrongness remained. But now, at least, there was time to comprehend everything.
Shan tried to remember where she had been before this moment, but nothing came. For some reason, her memory refused to yield anything coherent, responding only with flashes of scenes from different moments of her life. An argument with her mother over her father's new campaign, training in the Temple, the birth of Vaner, the assault on Obsidian... When did all this happen? And was it with her? Where did she get memories of the Chiss Domination? Why did she remember how difficult it was to pass the survival exam on Dxun? And the burning feeling of hatred for the one her sword had just struck was clearly alien... What was happening to her?
Her head ached mercilessly... Force techniques only helped partially, which was already strange. Bastila rubbed her forehead and ran her hand over her face. The cold of the thread armor of the glove simultaneously invigorated and surprised her. Shan was not used to armor, which she only remembered now when she realized what she was wearing.
Another strangeness was found on her palm. The glove was stained with something bluish-purple. Not immediately, but Bastila realized it was blood... Her blood. The girl hurried to remove the glove and expose her hand. The skin was blue... like that of the Chiss.
Her gaze swept over the room where Bastila found herself once more. An ancient aura... and Darkness emanated from every stone. The symbols carved on the floor and walls were partially familiar and belonged to several ancient languages at once. But something united them... These were the languages of the peoples of Korriban... the red-skinned Sith and those who came to subjugate them.
Shan took a deep breath of the icy air of the ritual hall, calling upon the Force and exploring her surroundings with it. There was no doubt. She was on Korriban. Bastila could not mistake this cursed planet and the pain it held in every grain of sand.
But there was suddenly no time to assess the situation. Someone was standing behind her... Someone whose presence Shan could not immediately detect, as he hid better than many Sith assassins. Preparing for battle, Bastila turned, activating her staff... only to freeze and stare in astonishment at the one who had entered the hall.
This armor... the mask... the movements and bearing, familiar to the point of pain. The feeling that his presence evoked... It could only be him.
Revan stood, holding his breath, and was afraid to scare away the apparition.
Near the T'Dark-mutilated body of Risa Farr, slumped on the floor, stood Bastila, her lightsaber clutched in Tyra's hands. He would have sensed her presence in the Force from the other end of the galaxy, let alone a mere ten meters away. It was her, no doubt.
The shock of realization shattered his concentration, weakening his disguise, which Shan, in Tyra's body, immediately sensed. The blue-skinned girl spun around sharply, raising her weapon... but froze, her eyes wide open.
"Revan?" she whispered, her voice filled with distinct pleading and hope.
"Bastila," the former Jedi replied tenderly.
Still clutching the humming staff, Shan cautiously approached, her eyes never leaving Revan's mask.
"Is it really you?" Bastila asked, directing all her perception at the lone figure.
"I... am and am not myself, simultaneously. It's complicated... as it is for you, I imagine," the former Jedi nodded and tilted his head slightly.
Shan glanced quickly at the blue skin of her hand and understood what Revan was talking about.
"Take off the mask," she requested, without a hint of demand or order.
"You won't see a familiar face beneath it... so, look deeper," Revan said with a touch of anxiety and slowly brought his hand to the mask, pressing the clasps with two fingers.
"Show me."
Shan swallowed nervously, preparing to see her beloved's new face. The Force screamed that this was her Revan! The one who saved her from Malak, made her feel loved, and gave her a son. The one she had lost so long ago...
With a soft click, the mask detached, and Revan slowly set it aside, closing his eyes. He was afraid to see Bastila's reaction. He only vaguely resembled his former self, but no matter how hard the former Jedi tried, the new body was noticeably different. He was almost a head shorter and broader in the shoulders, but Mizar Marr was a teenager, and the changes were not yet final. Just a few more years of training, and the body would reach the form of the ancient knight in his prime. But... how to explain this quickly...
However, no words were needed. Revan felt the touch of a warm palm on his cheek and opened his eyes. Tyra Nomad was looking at him with a warm smile, and in her gaze and expression, he clearly saw Bastila Shan. Cautiously, as if afraid to startle him, she leaned closer and gently kissed him on the lips. The stupor from the sudden fulfillment of such a long-cherished, seemingly impossible dream turned Revan into a motionless statue. It was as if thousands of lightning bolts pierced every cell of his body, paralyzing him and preventing him from even taking a breath. However, the former Jedi was ready to never breathe again. As long as Bastila stayed by his side and continued to kiss him.
The remnants of his consciousness were pricked by the thought that it wasn't Bastila kissing him now, but Tyra Nomad. And the Mandalorian might not share Shan's desires at all, having suddenly taken over her body.
Revan broke the kiss with a groan, but only to pull his beloved, who had returned to him, into his embrace. He would never let her go again... never.
"Unfamiliar sensations... and yet, so familiar..." Bastila whispered with a smile.
"How do you feel?" Revan asked.
The girl thought for a moment.
"Strange. As if all my senses have gone mad at once. The sensations are dulled... and my head is splitting," Shan winced, not hurrying to get out of his embrace.
"Do you remember what happened here?" the former Jedi asked, looking around.
"Only the last few minutes," Bastila shook her head. "I suddenly found myself here... there was a woman in front of me... a Sith."
Shan's gaze followed where her beloved looked... and Revan felt a slight pang of conscience. Although he suspected betrayal, Farr was his student. It could all have been avoided... but he didn't want to.
Risa's appearance vividly reminded him of Sith who had gone too far down the path of Darkness, particularly Darth Nihl. The unpleasant memories were banished, but the feeling of disgust was slow to fade.
The picture of what happened began to form. Farr was not distinguished by outstanding Force abilities. Her potential was severely limited, and in essence, she had already reached her limit. But, it seemed, she desired more. Whether of her own free will, or by the will of her true Master, to whom she undoubtedly continued to serve even after joining Revan, Farr tried to overcome her limit. And she chose one of the most vile methods for it. Subjugation and absorption of a Force ghost... Revan had only heard of this ritual. Only a few of the most insane Sith alchemists in the distant past dared to attempt such a thing. But the knowledge had been forgotten long before the Mandalorian Wars began. How long had Risa planned this? And how much time had she spent preparing?
And why did Bastila end up here? Did Risa intentionally want to summon her? For what purpose? To gain the ability to influence Revan? She had tried to seduce him, he understood that perfectly well. The ultimate goal remained unclear.
Or was it all about Tyra? Could her connection to Bastila have served as a beacon for his beloved, long gone into the Force? Was it all a coincidence?
Revan chuckled at his thoughts. There are no coincidences in the Force.
"Something is wrong with my memory," Bastila suddenly said.
"What?" Revan looked into the girl's eyes, as if trying to find the reason for her discomfort there.
"I can't remember what I was doing before I got here... I don't even remember how long it's been since our last meeting... Did Mitra find you? And how did you end up in another body? How did I end up in another body!? What is happening?!" Bastila exclaimed, gradually raising her voice, clutching Revan's chest plate.
"Calm down, my love. I'll try to explain everything. But first... we are far from our own time."
"How... How much time has passed?"
"A limited reliable answer: Approximately three thousand nine hundred and forty-two years since your last face-to-face meeting," a muffled synthesized voice, which could only belong to one droid, responded.
"HK?" Revan called out, looking around but not noticing the source of the sound.
"Irritated remark: A pile of rocks six meters from you, Master," the mechanical assassin replied.
"HK-47, is that you?" Bastila called out.
"Optional clarification: Yes, bag of meat. It is I. Accusatorily: And you are to blame for my predicament."
"I..."
"He thinks you are Tyra Nomad," Revan clarified, trying to determine the droid's exact location under the pile of stones that had obviously buried him.
"Who?" Bastila didn't understand.
"The one whose body you've occupied," the former Jedi explained.
Another pang of conscience... He still hadn't asked what had happened to his second student...
"Tyra... Nomad..." Bastila said slowly.
"Yes... Do you know what happened to her?" Revan asked, ceasing his efforts to extract HK from under the rubble.
"Sarcastic remark: Yes, of course, you can discuss the latest news for now. I'm in no hurry. What can rocks of unknown mass do to a durasteel droid body, right? I'll wait until you finish your conversation, Master," HK-47 grumbled, clearly displeased at the prospect of remaining under the rubble for even another minute.
However, his words were ignored.
"I don't know... Although... maybe... I feel something. A presence... and a voice..."
Bastila suddenly clutched her head and cried out.
Revan hurried to her side and embraced her shoulders.
"What happened? Are you alright?"
"Oh, she's loud..." the girl hissed, rubbing her temples.
"Bastila?"
"Yes, it's still me. But Tyra is here too. I feel her consciousness... and she's very unhappy with the current situation."
"You... can communicate with her?" Revan was surprised.
"At least, I can hear her... Although... I'd rather not hear such Mandalorian phrases... Ah!"
The girl cried out, jerking sharply, and squeezed her eyes shut, hissing in pain.
"Bastila!" Revan tried to use the Force to understand what was happening and how he could help.
Suddenly, the blue-skinned Mandalorian's eyes flew open, and she grabbed Revan's arm.
"Get her away from me! This is my body!" Tyra Nomad shouted.
There was no doubt in the former Jedi's mind that the rage mixed with panic belonged to Tyra. For a few seconds, the body's true owner took control.
But a moment later, the Mandalorian's face changed expression, and Bastila's Talravian accent returned to her voice.
"Strong..." she hissed.
"Are you alright... Both of you..."
"Yes... As far as I can tell, we're both alright, though we can't seem to get along. She's trying to regain control of the body, but something is preventing her. And it's not me. It's like a barrier between us... but she's breaking through it."
"Perhaps the consequences of the ritual? I don't fully understand its purpose yet, but I suspect it accounted for the need for one entity to dominate another," Revan theorized.
"Perhaps," Bastila agreed.
"Tyra, Bastila, listen to me, both of you. We'll sort everything out," Revan tried to encourage the girls trapped in one body.
"I know, my love... And she does too," Bastila smiled.
"Non-committal remark: Hull integrity eighty-one percent and falling," the assassin droid's voice intervened.
"Help him. We're not going anywhere," Shan nodded encouragingly.
"Really?" Revan asked unconsciously.
"Not anytime soon. You can be sure of that," Bastila assured him.
"I'm glad..."
"And I'm not... very..." the Mandalorian said, grimacing for a moment.
"Tyra?"
Nomad nodded.
"And where..."
Revan didn't get to finish his question before he noticed another change in the blue-skinned mercenary's face. Before him was his long-lost wife once more.
"I tried to help her break through the barrier. And I succeeded," she explained.
"You helped Tyra regain control?" Revan asked.
"Yes. It's her body after all... I'm just a guest," the girl smiled.
"And... are you alright with this situation...?"
"We still don't understand what happened. I found myself in an unfamiliar place, in someone else's body, and I have no memory of the last few years of my life. Vaner, it seems, got married... that's the latest thing that comes to mind... although no... grandchildren... yes. Our grandchildren and their training... After that, everything gets too confusing. So, having the voice of someone in my head who at least knows what's happening outside these walls is only helping me," Bastila recited, adding a touch of bitchiness to her voice.
Revan recognized this demeanor. Shan often hid her insecurity behind cold detachment and barbs directed at others.
"Rational suggestion: I presume it would be advisable to tell your own story, Master. While you excavate me. This will help bring your interlocutor with the dual control matrix up to speed," the droid suggested, still under the pile of rocks.
The suggestion was good. Revan had been thinking the same thing.
Especially since their situations were similar. Both found themselves in other people's bodies. The only difference was that Revan didn't feel his cohabitant. It seemed that he was transferred to a new shell after its owner's death. But Bastila had to share her body with Tyra. And, judging by all appearances, Tyra was artificially restrained by something that... quite possibly, should have been restraining Bastila? The ritual clearly hadn't gone according to plan. Tyra should know more, so there would be many long conversations ahead.
But first, HK needed to be freed... and his story told.
"I'll tell you..."
...
Even maximally shortened and devoid of details, Revan's story dragged on for almost an hour, during which the former Jedi cleared the rubble that had crushed HK.
"So, you were on Coruscant, and the Order is helping you... but not openly?" Bastila clarified.
"You could say that," Revan agreed, watching HK-47 perform self-diagnostics.
"And Sith are operating secretly in the galaxy."
"Yes."
"But, besides them, an even greater threat is coming, to repel which the galaxy must unite and remember how to hold weapons? Did I miss anything?"
"If we don't go into details, then that's exactly it," Revan agreed.
"And you and this girl have already staged a coup on Mandalore... which was the first step of your plan?"
"Uh-huh."
"Hmm, you haven't wasted any time..."
"Action helped distract me..." Revan said quietly.
"From what?" Bastila didn't understand.
"I found your holocron," the former Jedi replied, hanging his head.
"My holocron? Oh..." Shan, in Nomad's body, hissed in pain and rubbed her temples.
During Revan's story, this had happened to her more than once. Each time, the pain brought a sliver of Bastila's memory or a message from Tyra... This time, it seemed to be the former.
"I remember creating it. By then, you had been gone for over two decades..." Bastila said, still rubbing her temples.
"Forgive me..." Revan said hoarsely.
"For what?"
"I wasn't there when you needed me. I shouldn't have left you..."
"Then the Republic would have felt the Emperor's wrath three hundred years earlier, according to your story. And we would have simply perished in the fire of war. If not us, then our son and our loved ones. You saved them. You saved us."
"But you didn't know any of this then! I only had dreams of a world shrouded in eternal storms. I felt the approaching threat, but I didn't know what specifically to look for... I went into the unknown with minimal chances of success, leaving you on the very day you told me you were expecting a child. I can only imagine what impression you must have formed..." the former hero of the Republic said in a dead voice.
"Revan, look at me," Bastila asked calmly.
He obeyed her request, looking into Tyra Nomad's red eyes.
"Do I look like a jealous simpleton who can't understand her own husband?"
"No..."
"Did you ever force me to marry you? Or force me to have a child with you?" she inquired in an icy tone.
"No, of course..."
"This was all my choice. I knew what kind of man I was marrying. I knew how seriously you took your duty, and I knew how closely you took your own premonitions and visions. Your connection to the Force was always beyond the understanding of the Order, and therefore, I also got used to trusting your judgments. And it's not about the altered consciousness by the Council, not about a false personality and loyalty settings to the Republic. You were always like this. Always rushing to help when the innocent suffered. You even embraced the Darkness only to protect the Republic from Mandalore. Although you messed up here, for which everyone later paid... but that's another story. The main thing is this - I never blamed you for leaving our home on Coruscant. I knew you couldn't do otherwise. I knew you weren't leaving us, but trying to protect us. And you succeeded. I, Bastila Shan, tell you – you succeeded! You protected our family! Thanks to you, Vaner and I lived long lives. I managed to see our grandchildren and even teach them the Jedi path. It's a pity I couldn't fully explain your point of view on the unity of the living Force, but at least I taught them not to follow Eitris's dry dogmas. Even though war did happen in the galaxy... even though the Order was destroyed, the Republic managed to withstand and overcome this threat. Because you averted something much worse from us."
Revan struggled to hold back tears of relief. The burden of guilt had weighed on him since he awoke in Mizar's body. And he couldn't shake it off. Even Bastila's holographic words hadn't helped. All this time, he had been looking for excuses... blaming the Council... but he was only angry with himself. He couldn't forgive himself. He clung to one task after another, trying to distract himself and forget. But nothing helped. He had almost abandoned Anakin's training, only occasionally giving him instructions... because thoughts of how he would train Vaner or his grandchildren kept involuntarily surfacing in his mind. And it didn't matter that his son wasn't gifted... he would have found something to teach him... something to pass on... he would have simply been there and could have offered advice.
"You did it, my love. You did it," Bastila repeated again and gave him the most beautiful and sensual kiss imaginable.
No one knows how much effort it took Revan to break away and gently push his beloved away... because something in his eyes was wrong.
"Is something wrong?" Bastila asked, worried.
"I... we shouldn't be doing this... You're in someone else's body right now. And it's one thing to walk and talk, but to show... affection to someone without their consent..." Revan tried to explain, though he wasn't sure of his own words.
"Oh, she doesn't mind," Shan smiled.
"Really?"
"Not a hint of displeasure. Rather, disappointment that we stopped," the girl gently ran her hand over Revan's cheek.
He had thought something similar himself. Tyra had shown interest in him and openly declared that she had chosen him as... well, a romantic... partner? But he had refused her... even though he himself felt something strange. Now, much became clear. And in a way, right. Nomad was already connected to Bastila to such an extent that she was beginning to resemble her even in behavior... Now she had become a vessel for her... Who knows how long this would last...
"Stop your strategist mind from planning and calculating possibilities and just kiss me," Shan pulled him closer.
There was something of the Mandalorian mercenary in this action... A strange feeling, but captivating.
"Whoa, left for an hour, and already this... You'd be ashamed in front of the dead," the voice of a familiar Force ghost sounded nearby.
"Mitra?!" Bastila turned to the source of the voice with surprise on her face.
For a few moments, Surik tried to understand why Nomad was so surprised by her presence, but suddenly realized what was strange.
"Shan?!" Mitra exclaimed, her eyes wide with surprise.
Bastila nodded, still bewildered by the sudden appearance of her old acquaintance.
"How?! Did you succeed?" she turned to Revan.
"I had nothing to do with it," the former Jedi shook his head.
Surik's gaze shifted first to Tyra Nomad, then to Risa Farr, who was barely recognizable.
"What happened here?" she finally asked.
"In short, she was trying to summon me from the Force," the blue-skinned Mandalorian's hand pointed to Farr's dead body, then poked herself. "And this girl interfered with the ritual."
"So, that's how it is... And what about Tyra now?" Mitra asked, feeling a certain responsibility for Nomad.
"She's alive, as far as I can tell, and even in relatively good condition. Oh, and she can even shed some light on what's happening," Shan replied.
"What?" Surik and Revan asked simultaneously.
"She says that the other one let slip her plans."
"And what was she going to do?" Revan narrowed his eyes.
"If we omit the details, she was going to summon me, trap me in her body, and then place me under you, to later take our child by transferring her essence, which was supposed to hide somewhere within our shared body until then... like Tyra is now," Bastila explained.
The listeners looked surprised, to say the least. They hadn't expected such a plan...
"Unthinkable... Nonsense... but, it might have worked," Mitra mused thoughtfully.
"I would have noticed the substitution..." Revan stated confidently.
"There would have been no substitution. Right now, you only see and feel me, right? You can only notice Tyra with great difficulty, right?" Shan noted.
Revan concentrated and realized his wife was right. If you didn't know what, or rather who, to look for, Tyra Nomad's presence was almost imperceptible.
"Even I, being in the same body with her, could only notice her when you mentioned it. Besides, Tyra... is noisy. She was eager to get out, which made her easier to detect. If she had quieted down and hidden... I wouldn't have known about the 'neighbor'," she said.
"But you still control the body. Tyra only took over for fractions of a second with great difficulty," Revan noted, recalling the beginning of their meeting.
"But Tyra has no experience with the Force. Risa, on the other hand, clearly prepared for years and studied this ritual thoroughly," Mitra countered.
"If she had struck at an unexpected moment, and with the use of mental techniques of the gifted... she would have had sufficient chances of success," Bastila said with concern.
"We almost fell into a trap..." Revan said, summarizing what he had heard.
"Why 'almost'? We fell right into it," an unfamiliar male voice sounded.
All four, including the droid, which had restored most of its functionality, turned towards the voice.
A tall, dark figure in a hood, favored by dark adepts, concealing his face, stood at the exit of the hall. But before the stranger could utter another word, several blaster bolts flew towards his figure. HK hadn't wasted any time. A threat to the Master had appeared - it needed to be eliminated.
However, contrary to expectations, the shots passed through the figure without any indication of hitting and hit the wall behind him.
"Another ghost?" Bastila raised an eyebrow in Tyra's body, already in a defensive position behind Revan's left shoulder.
"No... a projection," the former Jedi guessed first.
The stranger clapped his hands mockingly several times.
"Bravo. Commendable observation," he rasped.
His words were interrupted by a quiet hiss, similar to the sound of a respirator or a cheap vocoder, which could indicate an injury or illness of the unknown.
"Who are you?" Revan demanded, concentrating the Force around him.
"I prefer not to answer that question, Lord Revan," the stranger pronounced the former Sith's title with undisguised mockery.
"Not very polite," Bastila said, moving her golden blade.
"I don't have to be polite," the stranger grinned.
"Is this all your doing?" Revan asked loudly, nodding slightly towards the dead Risa, assuming the projection before them was Farr's Master.
"To some extent," the unknown replied after pondering something for a few moments.
"Are you Risa Farr's Master?"
"I trained her for some time. But not alone. And I can hardly be called her Master. After all, she always had only one Lord," the hooded figure said slowly.
"Who?" Revan demanded.
The stranger merely shrugged, demonstrating his disdain for the former Jedi's question.
- Warning: sensors are registering two dozen artificial objects around us. I'm detecting energy sources... radiation power is increasing. Analysis: Presumably, droids in ambush. They are exiting sleep mode, Master," HK suddenly interrupted the conversation.
Revan was accustomed to trusting his droid's sensors. While it was difficult to sense the presence of inanimate objects through the Force, by focusing on something other than the stranger, the former Jedi could detect energy surges in the droids' power sources.
"You prepared an ambush?" Revan growled.
"Just in case," the stranger shrugged.
"Aren't there too few droids for two Jedi and an assassin droid?" Bastila, in Kira's body, chuckled.
"A slight miscalculation in the number of 'guests'," the robed figure waved dismissively.
"Are we breaking through?" Shan asked quietly.
"I don't want to upset anyone... but I have problems..." Mitra suddenly said.
"What happened?" Revan asked, not taking his eyes off the stranger.
He couldn't see how the figure of Surik became more solid, losing its characteristic ghostly translucence, or how his old friend, grimacing, pressed a hand to her chest.
"I can't return to my incorporeal form and leave the hall," Mitra replied.
"What?" Revan asked again.
"Something is trying to bind me in this hall," Surik said anxiously.
"You've already felt it, haven't you? Thank you for entering the ritual circle yourself and making my job easier," the stranger smirked.
Revan allowed himself a fleeting glance at his friend and saw Mitra looking around with anxiety in her eyes, and the symbols on the stones around them glowing with a dim bluish light.
Was it all just to lure Mitra here? And was even Risa's plan just bait, which Farr herself didn't suspect? But why? For what? What such...
The answer to the unspoken questions arose in Revan's mind on its own. Mitra was unique in her interaction with the Force. Being cut off from the Force, she interacted with it indirectly, through others. She was a living puncture in the Force, a tear in the energy field that binds the entire universe together. That is, she was not limited by the capabilities of her physical shell... Or rather, she was not limited by anything at all. It was no wonder the Council feared her... And if they could subdue and absorb her... what power would the one who conceived all this gain? Would this bottomless ocean of might be comparable to what Vitiate gained after absorbing life on Nathema? Or would it surpass it a thousandfold?
Whatever the case... such an outcome could not be allowed.
"Mitra, try to break free..." Revan said, preparing for battle.
"It's useless. From now on, she is locked in this hall until I decide otherwise. None of you will leave this place alive. I will only have to collect the trophies," the unknown said haughtily.
"We'll see about that," Revan snarled, sending a concentrated wave of the Force at his interlocutor, which broke the connection between the projection and its creator.
"Warning: The number of enemy signatures is increasing," HK-47 announced, preparing for the long-awaited battle.
The droid's sensors indicated that there would be bags of meat among the opponents, which could not but please him. Finally, he could have some fun.
Revan also felt the presence of living beings, moreover, Force-sensitives, but he did not feel the same enthusiasm. He had only just found his beloved again, and he had no intention of losing her.
Tira's palm gently touched his shoulder.
"We'll manage. Together," Bastila smiled encouragingly.
"Always," Revan nodded, activating his white blade, its hum complementing the steady hum of the black and gold.
The three stood back to back, as they had hundreds of times in the distant past, ready for battle. And whoever created this trap would deeply regret that it was these three who fell into it.