Revered and Reviled

"You didn't tell them everything you found down there, did you?" asked Jolee as he sat down next to Patience. He slid a cup of tea over the table to her, which she accepted gratefully.
"I didn't," she said calmly. "They weren't ready to hear it."
Jolee snorted.
"Or maybe," she smiled, "I wasn't ready to explain how I was talking to a giant fish."
Jolee laughed. "Good point. So, where are we going now? If you don't mind my asking. Not that it matters if you mind, I'm asking anyway."
"The data from the Star Maps is still compiling. It looks like some uncharted, hidden world somewhere."
"Hidden worlds," Jolee snorted. "Hate those things. So stupid."
Patience looked at him in surprise. "Are there really that many of them?"
He looked at her sourly. "More than you'd like to think about, little missy. Strange world with dangerous artifacts? Hide it. World with freaky natives that won't integrate into Republic society? Hide it. World with too many Force-sensitives? Hide it."
Patience blinked, as his words caused something to flicker just on the edge of her memory, but not close enough for her to pick it up.
"Did you finish fighting with Flyboy or what?" asked Jolee with a smile that secretly made her want to slap the old man.
"No," said Patience sourly. "The stars shifted their positions and he doesn't trust me again."
Jolee laughed, and shook his head. "So, you've broken it off with him? Gonna run off with the Mandy instead?"
"No," said Patience sharply. "Will you mind your own business?"
"Well, you're not going to run off with Kitty, she can't give you babies."
Patience turned bright red.
"Our children would be great warriors," Canderous called from the garage, unable to continue pretending he couldn't hear the old man's ramblings. "You should really think about it!"
Jolee chuckled at the look on Patience's face, and left the table to go check the communication terminal.
Patience opened her mouth to say something, then frowned in surprise as Canderous suddenly dropped the armor he was working on and ran to his room. She turned around, and saw Carth walking up to her. Patience looked around quickly, and realized that she was alone with him again.
"What was Canderous yelling about?"
"Nothing," she said quickly.
Carth looked at her.
"He wasn't serious about it anyway. He's holding out for a pretty little Jedi of his own," she said before her brain could stop her tongue.
Carth stiffened. "What? Why can't he just – never mind. I kind of have a question for you," he said quickly. "Well, a bunch of questions, really."
"Okay," she said slowly.
"Is that okay?" he asked politely.
She blinked at him in surprise. "Oh, yes, of course." Her heart sank. When had they grown so far apart that he needed to ask permission to talk to her?
"How old are you?"
Patience stared at him. "That's not the kind of question you ask a lady!"
Carth crossed his arms and looked at her.
"If you're asking me when I was born, I don't actually know. If you're asking why I don't look old and wrinkly, it's because Jedi don't age like normal people, and Light side Force users tend to look younger longer than their Dark side counterparts. If you're asking how much older than you I am, I'm just not going to tell you."
"Sorry, it just occurred to me that you're possibly old enough to be my mother," said Carth dryly.
Patience drank her tea and ignored him.
"I have another question."
Patience sighed. "I'm not going to like this one any more than the last, am I?"
"Probably not," he agreed. "But I'm going to ask you anyway. Were you and Malak – "
The tea cup in her hand shattered. "Sorry," Patience muttered, and stood up. "I'll go clean that up."
"You were, weren't you? You and Malak were lovers," said Carth quietly, and she couldn't tell if he was angry or just disappointed.
"We were not lovers," her voice low and strained. "Revan didn't know the meaning of the word. She had people that she possessed, toys that filled her idle hours. Whatever was between Revan and Malak was physical. Nothing more." She hadn't turned to face him as she spoke, and she was about to start walking away again when he spoke again.
"He didn't look like it was just physical."
Revan – Patience – turned back to him. Confused, concerned. "What are you talking about?"
Carth was looking at the shattered cup, and not at her. "Malak. Before he started taunting you, there was a look in his eyes. Like he was genuinely happy to see you."
"Yeah, so he could kill me properly," she said in confusion.
Carth shook his head.
"Trust me," she urged, "Revan was one of his many lovers, and even if she was most powerful, she was not the favorite." Patience stopped as a sudden flash of memory burned through her, watching a planet burn away beneath the guns of her fleet. She stepped backwards, trying to put more distance between herself and Carth. "I – I – " she sank to her knees, bowed by the weight of the evil that she had done in a moment of jealous rage.
Carth looked at her finally, but she still couldn't read his face. "What's wrong?"
"I just remembered something," she said, trying to hold back a rush of tears. "Something horrible, of course. Just like everything else Revan has ever done."
"Stop." Carth's voice was calm and unusually commanding.
"But – "
"Why are you confessing things to me, Patience?"
She looked at him, completely lost. "Because you deserve to know the truth."
He looked at her. "Is that the only reason?"
"What other reason would there be?"
"The same reason that I recognized what was in Malak's eyes. I'll go clean up the mess. Could you check on the navigation computer and see if it's done compiling yet?" Carth walked down the stairs before she could recover from her shock, leaving her staring after him in silence.
Patience staggered to her feet, and wiped off her face before obediently checking the computer. It was still working on the data. She walked to the garage, and sat on the workbench, resting her head in her hands.
"You okay?" asked Canderous curiously.
"I just realized that I don't understand men, and I don't think I ever will."
Canderous chuckled. "Hey, can I ask a question? It won't make you cry, I promise."
Patience smiled at him. "Go ahead. Everyone wants to pick Revan's brain today for some reason."
"What happened to the Mask of the Mandalore? We know you took it, but," he shrugged. "That's really all anyone knows."
Patience thought about it. She saw a brief vision of herself, hiding the mask away in her robes, but couldn’t see anymore more.
HK, standing quietly at the far corner of the garage, made a very quiet noise that could only be described as a snicker.
Her eyes went wide as she remembered. "It's gone," she blurted out. "Forget it, it's just a stupid mask!"
Canderous frowned at her. "You know better than that. It's a serious part of our culture – it's a tradition, more than that. It's a symbol. If it was destroyed, just say so."
Patience cringed, not sure how to explain. "Look," she tried again, "that mask was worn by a failure. Is that really the legacy you want?"
"So it wasn't destroyed," said Canderous with a wry smile. "Why can't we recover it?"
Patience sighed. "You know me too well, Mandy."
"You used it to build something, didn't you?" he said suddenly.
"Interjection: You'll never see the mask again."
Canderous turned to glare at the droid, and was about to tell it to stay out of their conversation when his Mandalorian-trained eyes started to look more carefully at the droid.
"HK, be nice," Patience pleaded. "Or, at least, non-violent. Semi non-violent. Just… just stop talking."
"You used the Mask of Mandalore the Ultimate to build a droid?"
"It's a really cool droid," she said weakly.
"Observation: The Mask has more kills now than Mandalore the Ultimate ever did."
Canderous turned back to her, and waited for an explanation.
"I – Revan – really didn't like Mandalorians. Revan didn't fight to win wars, she fought to see her enemies broken and crushed beneath her feet." Patience hid her face in her hands. "I knew perfectly well how the Mandalorians would react to losing the Mask. It was a cruel and efficient way to ensure that the leadership of the Mandalorians would fall apart. It was good strategy, that just happened to appeal to my sense of humor."
"So it really is gone forever?"
"Well, no, I could get it back out again if I wanted to. But who would I give it to? If I just announced that it was restored, the wars would just break out all over again, and even more people would die."
"Give it to Canderous."
She looked up in surprise. She hadn't heard Carth approach, and he was just leaning against the wall, casually smiling at nothing in particular. She glanced quickly at Canderous, and almost laughed at the look on his face.
"What? Me? You can't do that, that would make me Mandalore!"
Carth smiled. "So?"
"But that's totally ridiculous," Canderous protested. "I'm not worthy to be Mandalore!"
"Yes, you are," she said softly. "Blade and spirits, you most certainly are." She looked curiously at Carth.
"You know," he said conversationally, "that's the first time you've talked about something Revan did without separating her into another person."
"I guess I'm getting tired of pretending to be something I'm not," she sighed. "I just wish everything associated with Revan didn't come with guilt of galactic proportions."
"I seem to recall something about a Jedi Knight who saved the Republic," said Carth calmly. "I believe she was something of a hero." He met her eyes, and smiled, a very soft and kind smile that made her heart flutter wildly in her chest. "But, if it's all the same to you, I'm going to keep calling you Patience." He pushed himself away from the wall. "I'm going to go check on the computer again."
She watched him leave, stunned into silence for a few moments. She shook herself, trying to recover her sense of balance. "HK-47, deactivate all processes."
"Verification: Voice code accepted. Deactivating."
"Could you bring him over here? He's a little heavy."
"You know, you don't have to listen to him," Canderous urged. "You're not really going to make me Mandalore, are you?"
Revan jumped off the workbench. "Someone has to preserve what's left of the Mandalorian culture. The good parts, anyway. Might as well be you. Give me your mask, I'm going to need some parts."

Bastila started in surprise at the gentle touch, then moaned in pleasure as the young man's tongue slid over her, cleaning away the traces of Malak's conquest. Bastila leaned back, and opened her legs a little wider for him. She smiled as he eagerly moved closer, kissing and licking her soft folds with an admirable expertise. "What a pleasant way to wake up," she laughed.
"I've always thought so," Malak agreed.
Bastila gasped in ecstasy, and cried out as the skillful tongue flickered over her. She let the first waves of pleasure wash over her before she spoke again. "Was Hannah supposed to wake you up this way?"
"One or the other," Malak chuckled. "I prefer to keep my options open."
Bastila laughed, then gasped in pleasure. "He's very well trained."
"Thank you. Well, thank Revan. He's not as good as the original, though." Malak laughed cruelly as the young officer blushed.
Bastila made a soft noise of appreciation. "That's enough, boy." She waved him away, and he obediently rose to his feet and left the room. Bastila gracefully rose to her knees, facing Malak.
"I have a question for you."
"I have an answer. The answer is probably Revan, just so you know."
Bastila laughed. "What happened to your jaw?"
"Revan." Malak laughed at the look on her face. "I did warn you. I failed to kill her, and she took it personally. Not the attempt, the failure. She finds failure irritating." He gestured towards the prosthetic. "Part of the reason my second attempt was from a distance. It should have succeeded."
"Well, it certainly wasn't for lack of effort on your part." She regarded him curiously. "So... who was your first?"
"At last, a question where the answer is not Revan," Malak chuckled. "It was a beautiful girl, a former slave, and I rescued her from a fate worse than death. Ah, the heady days of youth. Sadly, it seems sacrificing yourself and being tortured in another's place wasn't quite enough to win someone's undying love back in those days, and she left me to live a life of peace and safety with a younger, less ambitious idiot." Malak laughed at the memory. "Still, she was very beautiful."
"More beautiful than Revan?"
Malak shrugged. "Revan wasn't an option." Malak looked at her. "I have a question for you."
"All right," said Bastila nervously.
"Revan was winning. Why did you come to me?"
"Patience was winning. Not Revan."
"So," said Malak softly, "there is a difference. Is there?"
Bastila shrugged. "Patience is not all there, to say the least. Revan was – is different. Revan is in there, somewhere."
"Dreshdae."
Bastila nodded. "There have been other moments. Little flashes, short hints. But lately – with Carth – Revan has been fading. Like Patience is the real identity, and Revan is only the imprinted personality. Patience has this vision – of the future. A mad, impossible future, with Carth on a farm with their babies."
"What?" Malak laughed. "Revan and babies?"
Bastila laughed, a little rudely. "No, Patience and babies. She acts like she would give up everything for the chance of living out her days on a little farm with that idiot pilot. All that power, all that possibility, and she would rather spend her days chasing after snot-nosed brats."
Malak laughed again, the electronics muting his mirth. "But Revan – or whatever you want to call that body – Revan can't have children. She was fixed, if that is the right term."
"What?" Bastila looked at him in surprise.
"She has a genetic condition that necessitated enforced sterilization. At least, that's what one of her old Masters told me when I asked why she couldn't have children. It always bothered her." Malak laughed again, cruel and unfriendly. "Actually, I think it drove her mad."
"I can believe that," smiled Bastila. "She's practically obsessed with children. And they like her, too."
"Really?" said Malak dryly. "I thought children naturally feared the Dark."
Bastila smiled. "I guess they can't tell. Something about her just appeals to them. For example, there was one little boy, on Tatooine, he just wouldn't stop hugging her, and you could see her shining with happiness. It was rather pathetic, actually."
Malak raised a curious eyebrow. "What was a little boy doing on Tatooine?"
"Heading for Coruscant, I believe, with his mother and father. Well, her husband, actually, I don’t think the little boy was related to her husband." She looked critically at Malak. "Now that I think of it, the little boy looked a lot like you. Well, you before you became an evil Sith Lord, that is."
"Really?" asked Malak. "Was the woman a white-haired beauty, with slave markings on her face?"
Bastila nodded. "Do you know her?"
"Intimately." Malak sighed. "And I suppose I know the little boy, as well. I should ask her what she named him, but her husband will probably try to kill me."
Bastila giggled. "Speaking of killing, why did you send your Shadow Hand against Revan? Even insane, she's still worlds better than he ever was."
"Karath can fly a ship," said Malak dryly.
"So who's flying your ship now?" asked Bastila curiously.
Malak chuckled and held out his hand to her. "Come, let me show you."