Ebon Hawk

2: The truth behind the mask

It had not taken HK long to find and eliminate his target, as well as a handful of mercenaries employed by the ship’s previous owner. It had turned out that the vessel, the Ebon Hawk, had belonged to a crime lord by the name of Davik Kang, a man that had ties with the criminal organization known as the Exchange. He would no doubt be upset by his loss, but knew better then to cross Revan or any other member of the Sith.

Revan found the sparse living quarters of the vessel comforting. The Dark Lord glanced around on the walk to the cockpit. A walk that seemed somehow familiar, despite the fact that Revan had never been aboard until that day. Sitting in the pilots chair however, did not feel as familiar. It was like there should have been another seated there.

An expert pilot with short brown hair that was slicked back save a few strands that fell against his forehead, soft cinnamon eyes capable of expressing extreme emotion, and the slightest hint of a beard that was nothing more then two day old stubble. A pilot who was handy with a blaster, and always wore the same ugly burnt orange flight jacket.

“Carth.” The word hissed from behind the mask. The man from Revan’s vision, the one whom the Dark Lord wanted to see scream in pain and beg for his death. He was the one meant to pilot the ship Revan was currently flying toward one of the Sith flagships that floated aimlessly at the edge of Republic space.

The flight from Taris to the Leviathan had been short, but had done nothing to improve Revan’s mood. The Force had made it quite clear that finding the Republic Pilot named Carth was as important as finding the Ebon Hawk had been. The Dark Lord only hoped that it would not take too long to find the man who’s presence was haunting, even though they had never met.

Malak and Admiral Karath were both on the ship’s bridge when Revan arrived, and both graced the Dark Lord with a deep sweeping bow of respect.

Revan nodded to them both once before addressing the Admiral. “I seek information about a Republic soldier who may have served with us during the Mandaloria Wars.”

The Admiral looked slightly surprised, “Of course My Lord. Which soldier?”

Revan saw Malak set his jaw in thought, obviously wondering what his master was up to. “A pilot by the name of Carth.”

A wicked smile graced the older man’s lips, his eyes sparkling with the kind of maliciousness that only a Sith could have. “Carth Onasi. Indeed one of the best pilots the Republic had during the Mandalorian Wars. After the war I attempted to convince him that the Republic was doomed to fall. Unfortunately he refused to see the truth in my words and I was forced to take drastic measures.”

Revan’s first thought was that the Admiral had killed the other man and that the ghosts that had begun to haunt the Dark Lord would never be silenced. “What measures were taken Admiral?”

“I presented him to the Mandalorians as a slave after the treaty ceremony on Mandalore.” Karath stated proudly.

Revan smiled, though the expression could neither be seen through the mask, nor heard in the Dark Lord’s modified voice. “Very good Admiral.” Without a word of farewell Revan turned to leave, layers of dark robes billowing as the Dark Lord moved.

“Master, I sense a disturbance in the Force.” Malak’s voice called

“As do I.” Revan confirmed without stopping. The Dark Lord knew the reason behind the disturbance, it was the ship that sat in the hanger. The ship that called for Revan to return to it, the ship that called for a man named Carth Onasi.

The journey to Mandalore was not short as the trip to the Leviathan had been. Speeding through the darkness of hyperspace there was nothing to occupy the Dark Lord’s thoughts and so they wandered back to the vision. Slowly Revan’s mind worked over what had been said until once again the Dark Lord was swallowed by darkness, only to be released into the strange vision in which Carth Onasi stood.

“We can use this abandoned apartment as a base, and we can probably get some equipment and supplies here in the Upper City.” He said, and Revan realized that it was not the same conversation as the last vision. Though they were in the same run down apartment and the Dark Lord was still sitting on a bed looking up at the Republic soldier. “Just remember to keep a low profile. I’ve heard grim stories about the Dark Jedi interrogation techniques. They say the Force can do terrible Things to a mind. It can wipe away your memories and destroy your very identity!”
You have no idea how terrifying we Sith truly are Carth, but you will find out soon enough. Revan thought smugly as he spoke.
“But I figure if we don’t do anything stupid, we should be okay. I mean, after all, they’re… they’re looking for Bastila, not a couple of grunts like us. Alright soldier, let’s move out.”

Revan stood and smiled pleasantly. “Let me use the refresher first. I’ve been out for days, you said so yourself.”

He nodded and walked across the room to where a few old dingy chairs had been pushed against the wall and sat down.

Revan silently slipped into the refresher and closed the door, immediately seeking out the mirror on the wall.

Shock filled the Dark Lord, somehow Revan had been expecting to be staring at a stranger. Yet the face that looked back was one that had been hidden behind a mask for nearly ten years. Short onyx hair fell into deep chocolate eyes, while full lips parted in shock. What in the Force is going on? How is any of this happening? Once again Revan attempted to reach out with the Force, a simple test of ability that even the youngest of padawans could perform, but nothing happened. Some how, in this place I am myself and yet I am not. I have no control over the Force, yet I can still feel it as it moves around me. I’m running from my own men, who all believe me to be dead. Placing her hands on the refresher she leaned closer to the mirror. “Alright Revan, you are no longer quiet yourself… So who are you now?”

Aurora Skyblade. came the answer from somewhere deep in her mind.

Revan shrugged and started the water in the small shower stall. The name wasn’t bad. It was strong and yet somehow feminine, and a part of Revan had always wanted to be feminine. Peeling off her white and orange undergarments she could not help but muse over the color, finding humor in the parallel to the ship she knew she was still on, even if the vision felt as real as any other part of her life. Dropping the garments on the floor she stepped into the steaming water and began to wash the layer of sweat, blood and dirt from her skin and hair.

Closing her eyes as the water made trails over her shoulders and down her back and breasts the Dark Lord of the Sith could not help the small twinge of excitement that found it’s way through the anger and annoyance. She had no idea what was going to happen next, and she was eager to find out.

A high pitched beep invaded her thoughts and Revan opened her eyes to find herself sitting in the pilot’s chair, hyperspace having given way to a view of the blue and green home of the fierce warriors known as the Mandalorians.

Excitement built inside her once again. Soon she would meet the man from the visions. Soon she would substitute one of the ghosts in the vessel for the actual being. Then perhaps the Force would give her the answers she sought after.