It Had To Be Done: Chapter 1

The Ebon Hawk was quiet. Well, not quite quiet. While most of the areas of the freighter were silent, there was one part that wasn't. If one strained their ears enough, they would be able to hear it: the soft sound of someone crying into a pillow.

Cian Jardin sat, hugging a pillow, on one of the bunks in the dorm that she had once played Pazaak against Mission in. The young Twi'lek, of course, was no longer there of course. No one was here now. Mission had left, just as the others had. They had landed on the closest planet, and they all walked.

A few had tried to stay close.

Canderous initially refused to leave. The Mandalorian claimed that he had more respect for her than he ever had before. Cian had told him to leave her alone. The warrior argued with her, stating that he would never leave, never abandon her. She threatened to run him through with her lightsaber if he didn't leave.

She had heard him grumble in Mandalorian as he left. Cian knew that he was probably standing outside the loading ramp to the ship making sure that she was left alone. Even though he had admitted to being a mercenary, Cian liked having him around. Canderous was loyal to her, she knew that. He was likely to stick around regardless of what she chose to do.

The other two that had tried to stay were Jolee and Zaalbar. The old Jedi had stayed, swearing to her that it didn't matter to him who was she, begging her to look at who she was now and not what she had been. Cian had simply told the man to frack off. Zaalbar had done the same. Swearing his loyalty like Canderous had, telling her it didn't matter to him who she was, he kept on growling about his “life-debt” to her, telling her that he had to keep his promise. But she was no longer listening. She had sent him away, just as she had Jolee and Canderous before him. And just as both Jolee and Canderous had, he too grumbled his way out of the freighter.

Cian sat in the dorm, thinking of those she once considered her friends. Some friends, the way they looked at her, the way they left her alone. The three that had persisted, that could still be counted as friends… well, Cian sent them away.

She suddenly felt alone. Everything that she had been told by the Council was a lie. Even Bastila, whom she had trusted the most, the one who had become her best friend, had lied. They all had. Everyone in the galaxy had lied to her.

In fact, it wasn't that she felt like her life was a lie. Nothing could feel as empty as she did. It wasn't a feeling, it was a truth. Her life was a lie.

A fresh stream of tears started to flow down her face. Cian sniffled and buried her face in the pillow. This was getting to be all too much for her. She knew the truth now, all of it. She had suspected that something was wrong when she had started to have the dreams of Star Maps on various planets across the galaxy. Dreams which the Council had told her were visions.

They had told her that the fate of the Republic lay in her hands. That she was the only person in the galaxy who could defeat the Sith. What they hadn't told her was the reason that she was having these visions, the reason that so much rested upon her shoulders. Even though she had been a Jedi, she still had a sense of pride in that she had been chosen. This had made her feel special, like she was worth something.

Then, on the Levithian, when Saul had told Carth the truth, he had looked at her with so much hatred, so much anger. Cian had wondered why he had looked at her with such malice; why he was having a yelling match with Bastila. Cian had been suspicious about Bastila too, when she started to act in her defence. Cian had wanted to know what she and Carth had been arguing about; why the two of them had looked over at her, had pointed in her direction. It was unnerving for her. It confused her. The two people in the galaxy that she trusted the most, the two people whom she thought were her friends, were yelling about her. Anyone, at that moment, could have felt the tension in the air.

She never did get her chance to ask Bastila what she and Carth had been fighting about. Malak saw to that. The Dark Lord had made his appearance on the Levithan while the three of them had been running for the hangar. He had laughed that them; laughed at Carth's feeble attempts to kill him. Then he had told her something that made Cian's world crash down around her.

“You are Revan,” he had declared. “You are nothing more than a puppet for the Jedi.” Even now, Cian could hear Malak's laughter echoing in her head.

Now the visions made sense to her. The dreams that she shared with Bastila were not visions but memories. It devastated her when she found out. Everything that she'd believed in was a lie. She was not the ideal Jedi she believed she was; she was anything but. She was Revan, the Dark Lord. She was the person who had caused so much death and destruction across the galaxy.

At first she had refused to believe him, accusing him of lying, but she knew it was true. She knew in her heart that what he spoke was the truth. And once she realised this, she wanted to break down and cry.

But at that moment she did not have time to break down. She had to fight Malak, even though she lacked the will to fight him. But she felt compelled to try and save her friends, to fight for what she knew was right. She had to hold herself together to get her friends out of this alive.

She almost succeeded; Bastila was captured and Cian had run off with Carth to escape with the others. Cian had been an emotional mess. She was angry that she had been brainwashed by the Jedi, that they had made up everything she was, made her believe that she was something that she was not. She just wanted to curl up and cry, forget about everything that had ever happened, forget about her mission to save the Republic and cry for the life that she once thought was her own.

As for her crew mates; the ones she had called friends… they had all stood around her. Some of them accused her of being a liar; of knowing about it the whole time. Cian knew that they had every right to be angry at her, especially Carth. He was the one that upset her most. He told her that he hated her. He told her that she was the one that killed his wife and son and that he could never forgive her.

She left the main hold and went to one of the dorms, distraught with despair. Tears stained her cheeks, blurring her vision but she lacked the energy or motivation to wipe them away. Instead, she sat, alone in the dark, clutching a pillow and crying tears she felt she didn't deserve to cry.

She had wanted to be left alone. She knew that the others had made up their minds. They wanted no part in this “mission” to save the galaxy if Revan was involved. And with Bastila gone, there was no one there to help her, to support her. Not even Carth. All Cian could feel in her empty state was the hatred that her most of her friends now had for her.

They all hate me. They think that everything that I have ever told them is a lie. The tears endured as she cried herself to sleep that was haunted by visions of her past. After all the pain, suffering and death she had caused, she felt like she deserved the same.

Even the ever-dependable Carth left her, hatred burning in his eyes. He wouldn't talk to her again. Cian knew this. His life had been destroyed because of her. She was the reason he no longer had a son; no longer had a wife.

Cian knew they all had their reasons for leaving. If she had had a choice, she would have left too. She was not completely alone though. She still had Canderous, Jolee and Zaalbar. But three friends in a galaxy of people that hated the person she really was a little bit too hard on her. Now that she had sent the last of her friends away and she was alone, she would solve that problem. If the galaxy hated her so much then she would be better off dead.

Cian decided that she had to die. The only person in the whole galaxy that would know how she was feeling had been captured. And now that all of her friends were gone, Cian had nothing left to live for. She could not save the galaxy on her own; she lacked the strength. If her friends had stayed to support her, if just Carth had stayed, then she would be able to do this. But a former Sith Lord, an old hermit Jedi, a warrior past his prime and a formerly outcast wookiee were not enough to save the Republic.

Searching the room, she found what she wanted. It had been Mission's vibroblade. She tested the blade. She had caused too much pain and suffering, so much destruction. Cian felt the coolness of the blade as it rested against her skin. Soon, this will all be over.

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The man sat at the bar, swirling his drink about in the bottom of his glass. He wore a pained expression on his face as he stared into the brown coloured liquid. Things had changed so much over the past few hours for him. Everything was so different. Bastila was gone. She had sacrificed herself so that they could get out of there.

Part of him was angry at her for doing that. There was so much he had wanted to say to her; so much he needed to find out. Like why. Why had the Jedi lied to him? Why had they brainwashed Revan instead of killing her? Why did he have feelings for this woman even though she was one who was responsible for killing his wife? Why was he blaming her for everything when it wasn't even Cian's fault?

Carth stopped swirling his drink for a moment and considered his situation. What was he thinking? He was sitting here in the cantina drowning his sorrows in a drink, feeling sorry for himself when he should had been trying to support Cian. When he had left the Ebon Hawk, he had sworn that he would never return. He had sworn that he could never support Revan. He had blamed her for all the lies that had been told. The truth was she had never lied to him. What she had said was true because she had believed it to be true.

He thought back to the moments they had spent together. The time on Taris when she had called him a hairless wookiee and he had told her that she had hurt his man feelings. The time on Tatooine, when she had saved that sleaze ball, Tanis in the desert when she could have just left him out there to die. She had done nothing to deserve desertion and yet here he was in a cantina, drinking instead of being with her.

Carth slammed down his glass and headed back towards the landing bay. The Jedi had lied to him, they had lied to them all, but the biggest lie was the one that Carth had made when he walked out of the freighter. He could never hate her. He loved her. He loved her and he needed to tell her so before he regretted missing his chance.

He ran back to the ship hoping that she would forgive him, hoping that she would tell him that it was okay, that she understood why he had said what he had. As he approached the Hawk he was met by Canderous. The big Mandalorian barred his way as Carth towards the loading ramp.

“Move out of my way, Canderous,” Carth said calmly, his hands slowly inching towards his blasters. “I need to talk to Cian. I need to tell her that… that I love her.” There was desperation in his voice. At that moment he wanted nothing more in the entire galaxy but to see her, to tell her that he had been wrong, that he had lied to her when he said that he hated her. The Mandalorian gave Carth a dubious look. He wasn't buying it. As far as Canderous was concerned, you didn't go yelling at people and telling them you hated them if you actually loved them.

“Sure, Republic,” Canderous stated watching Carth's hands resting on his blasters. “I don't believe a thing you say. You left her in anger and bitterness, and now you come crawling back on all fours begging for her to forgive you. Do you think I was born yesterday?”

The two stood face to face locked in a glaring contest. Carth stared into the larger man's eyes, daring him to shoot him. The Mandalorian gripped his weapon tightly in his hands, his eyes darting from the Carth's face to his hands. He wanted Republic to go for his weapons; it would give him the excuse he needed to shoot the man; something he'd wanted to do for a long time.

“Would you two please stop it?” a voice said from behind them. The two of them stopped staring at each other and turned to face the direction of the voice. Jolee stood, scowling behind the two of them. The old Jedi had seen the exchange between the two men and it irked him to no end that the two of them would be out here fighting when they should be working together to get Cian to accept their help.

“If the two of you don't agree to start getting along, then I will force you both to do so,” he threatened, more than willing to carry through with that threat if need be.

Canderous and Carth stared at each other a little longer, each daring the other to test the limits of the old Jedi. It was the Mandalorian who relented, stepping to one side and letting Carth pass.

Carth quickly pushed past the Mandalorian and ran up the ramp of the Ebon Hawk to find Cian. The moment he stepped onto the freighter he could feel a sense of foreboding in the air. Something was wrong. Carth wasn't Force Sensitive, but he perhaps his long-standing paranoia had given him a sixth sense of some sort. Hoping his senses were betraying him, Carth desperately called out her name and searched each room of the ship quickly but thoroughly.

The ship was deathly quiet. Carth was sure that if Cian was aboard the ship that there would be some kind of noise, some sound, but there was nothing but silence. Even though the sound of his voice echoed around the Hawk, the ship felt too quiet.

Then he stumbled upon her. She lay in a heap on the floor. Her robes were covered in blood, and her face was deathly pale and streaked with tears. But that wasn't what struck Carth the most. The thing that made him cry out in anguish was the pool of blood that surrounded her.

He rushed over to her and pulled the blade from her stomach. She had managed to run herself through with the vibroblade, and then she had lain down on the floor to die. She hadn't been sure if it was going to be a slow death but she knew that it was going to be painful. And that was what she wanted. She wanted a painful death to make up for all the pain she had caused while she was Revan.

Tears stung Carth's eyes as he lifted her body from the floor and carried her over to the bed. He couldn't remember if he called them or not, but somehow Jolee and Canderous were there, standing next to him helping him with her body. He clung to her as the tears streamed down his face. Why had he left her? Why hadn't he stayed here?

“She's gone.” He barely heard Jolee. “There's nothing I can do for her; she had become one with the Force…” Jolee might've kept speaking, but Carth was done listening. He didn't want to. He was too late. He had lost his second chance at love, and this time it had been his fault. He had no one else to blame.

Carth held on to her bloody body as the tears streamed down his cheeks. He sent Jolee and Canderous away telling them to find the others and bring them back here. They reluctantly did as he wished giving him the time he needed to grieve over his loss. Carth sat in the darkness of the dorm for a long time stroking her hair and looking at her face. He blamed himself for this, he should have supported her, should have told her that he loved her while he had the chance. Now it was too late. She was dead. Revan had caused so much death in her life time, it seem rather ironic that the last death that she would cause would be her own.

Carth didn't want to carry on, but he owed it to himself. He owed it to her. He had to complete the mission that she had started: the mission to defend the Republic from the Sith. He considered it his responsibility. He blamed himself for her death, and as a gift to her soul he would carry her burden. If he could turn back the clock and change what he had said and done, then things would be different.

“I will defeat Malak for you, and then I will join you and we will be together again,” he whispered into her dead ear. He slowly got up from the bunk and covered her with a blanket. Later the group would burn her body in the Shadowlands of Kashyyyk where she would be honoured as the one who had set them free, but for now Carth had a mission to do. He needed to gather the group together and find the Star Maps. It was going to be hard now that Revan was gone, but he was sure that she would be there to help them when she was needed.

They couldn't hide the fact the Revan was dead since Bastila would know, thanks to her bond with the woman. But they could still try their best. All he could do was believe that they would make it, as long as they stuck together. Everything in the galaxy now lay on the shoulders of a group of misfits.