Karp
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Jedi Insurgency 087 (Interlude 9)
🕑 Added 2025-08-11 17:06:48 +0000 UTCWithin a seedy bar on an unimportant planet in the Outer Rim, a middle aged pale man with heavy lines on his face was enjoying a drink, and watching the latest galactic news.
Amongst the many people in the bar, a rowdy group of clone troopers were loudly proclaiming their victory's, and punching one another whilst inebriated.
A well dressed journalist lady was on a tv screen speaking about the situation on Eriadu: “Detailed reports indicate that Revan's miraculous efforts have healed an estimated 5.8 billion people. The air of Eriadu is clean, and-”
Her speech was interrupted as a drunk clone trooper pulled out a blaster, and shot the screen to pieces. The lively atmosphere came to a screeching halt, and all the people at the scene looked at the trooper in concern, fear, or approval.
“Sorry folks, can't be having none of that anti-Empire propaganda poison your minds. Carry on.” The trooper slurred as he holstered his blaster.
The owner of the bar was about to nervously resume the music, when the middle aged man took a big sip of his mug, slammed it down, and said something that made the barkeep grip his heart in a panic.
“Fuck the Empire.”
“Haeh? You say something old man?” The trooper staggered to his side, then placed his hand roughly on his shoulder, and leaned in close with an ugly smile.
His mates-about 8 more clones-followed behind him, and were hooting and hollering.
“Kick his ass, Kiss!”
“Yeah, the old beggar is even wearing tattered brown robes, clock the Jedi sympathizer across the cheek for that lip!”
On and on the insults rang, and the clone-Kiss-held up a clenched fist in front of the middle aged man's face.
“You ever see such a big fist? While blokes like you-hicuh-while blokes like you are sipping your cheap beer, we real men are out here fighting so you can drink. Show us some damn respect.”
The man ignored him, and took an extra long swig of his drink, finishing it in one go. “Pwaahh, should be about time.”
“He's a nutcase lads!” One trooper pointed and laughed.
“Haha, Kiss, look at Kiss’ face!” Another guffawed.
Right when Kiss was purpling with rage, and was about to punch the man, a blonde, wild haired man dressed in a brown Jedi robe in his 20's rushed into the bar.
“Master, there you are! The planetary garrison has been taken. I also recovered a boy, there are other survivors!”
“Jedi?!”
“Blast him!”
The troopers all drew their guns, and were about to unload on the young man, when all the glass bottles and mugs suddenly levitated out of the cabinets behind the barkeep, and slammed themselves onto the helmetless clones’ heads. Knocked dead or unconscious, each and every trooper was out of the fight.
“Master Kota…” The young man said with a put upon sigh, as this wasn't the first time he had put of with the middle-aged man's antics.
“Hahaha, very good, Falon! I knew you and the Antarian Rangers would emerge victorious! The Council denied those children the chance to become Jedi, but that doesn't mean they're useless. Force Sensitive is Force Sensitive, whether you can lift only a pebble with your mind or a boulder!” Jedi Master Rahm Kota slapped his knee with joy at the good news. “Now what's this I hear about survivors?”
Peaking out from behind Falon's back was a shy boy no older than 10 or 12.
“Caleb Dume, say hello to my Master, Rahm Kota.” Falon introduced.
Caleb eyed the still breathing clones on the ground, and tentatively walked forward.
Rahm's jovial mood left his face, and he stepped up from his stool, then kneeled down to look the boy in the eye.
“Look at me, Caleb Dume.”
The shy child lifted his gaze, hope glittered in his pupils. Would he finally be safe? Could he finally stop running?
“With me here, you don't have to wor-urrr-y about anything.” Rahm burped to the side mid-sentence.
Caleb took a step back, and looked at the disheveled ‘homeless’ man in fear. Falon rubbed the bridge of his nose in embarrassment, and the clones were groaning on the ground in pain as they began to come to.
“Ah forget about it. Showing is better than telling.” Rahm grinned, and then strode out the bar, seemingly uncaring that his tattered robe was stained with some spilled alcohol.
“Master? Where are we going next?” Falon asked, and hurried to keep up.
“Where else? Eriadu!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
On Kashyyyk, within the darkness of the forest floor, a large, muscular Lasat was communing with the Force, deep in meditation.
The Darkside flowed from the trees pushing him to murder, destroy, and take what was rightfully his.
Leave the boy.
The burden is weakness.
Feed him to us.
Free yourself.
All sorts of malignant thoughts threatened his psyche, yet he remained unmoving like a mountain. Tapal especially focused on that sense of hunger, and pushed himself to embrace the core concept without letting himself become corrupted.
“Aaugggggg!” A Wookieee came swinging in on a vine, and approached.
“Master! Master Tapal! News, Master! That Revan guy is on the Holonet!” A boy's cheerful voice called out as he followed behind the Wookiee, and swung down, landing in front of the Lasat.
Jaro Tapal snapped his eyes open, and sharply exhaled.
“Master?” The boy took a step back, his voice warbled with uncertainty.
“This planet is wild, untamed. Be sure not to lose yourself, Cal.” Tapal said in a steady, serious, yet not unkind tone.
“Of course, Master!” Cal-the short brown haired youth-nodded his head.
“Now. What was it you wanted to tell me?” Tapal asked, and stood up from his meditative pose.
“Oh, right! Revan! He was all over the Holonet! They tried censoring him, but he's everywhere!”
“Center yourself, Padawan. The forest is listening. We are not the only ones who breathe its wilds.” Tapal cautioned.
“Auuugh!” The Wookiee softly hummed in agreement.
“Yes, sorry Chewbacca.” Cal hung his head, thoroughly chastised. “Ahem. Anyway. Revan. He uh, he healed a lot of people. It was incredible. I didn't know we could do that!” Cal was hesitant at first, but couldn't contain himself, and expressed his joy.
Holding out a handheld device, Cal showed a short gif of Revan healing people on the streets.
“A wonderful arte, not many pursue healing, much less to this magnitude. I have my doubts about Revan, but any man who can be so noble is deserving of respect. If not for his preemptive warning, I fear the clones would have slain us by now.” Tapal stroked his chin, and repeatedly watched the gif, as if by focusing on it, he could unlock some secret about the man behind the mask.
“Uhh, Master? Are you all done with your meditation?” Cal asked in a somewhat concerned tone, as Tapal had ended up watching a 20 sec clip for more than 5 minutes.
“Eager, are we?”
“Yes, Master.” Cal answered honestly.
“Very good.” Tapal ruffled Cal's hair, and then ignited his double-lightsaber.
The twin beams of blue plasma brought light to this dim and dismal ancient forest floor. Standing behind the Lasat were dozens of blood thirsty creatures out of nightmare. Those predators of Kashyyyk that even made Wookiees piss themselves in terror had made themselves known.
Answering Tapal's siren-like call promising a feast, they had gathered.
“Chewbacca, sound the horns. We retake Kashyyyk tonight!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Amongst the crystalline halls of the Jedi Temple on Ilum, a handful of Jedi sat themselves upon hard cushions, and sipped fragrant tea.
Seated amongst this body of Jedi survivors were: the soothing Shaak Ti, the old wizened Jocasta Nu, the ancient Kaminoan Kina Ha, the radical Quinlan Vos, and the enigmatic A'Sharad Hett (the man who would become Darth Krayt).
This impromptu council of Jedi Masters were the most senior amongst the dozens of Jedi who had gathered on Ilum, and were awaiting Revan to guide them to Tython.
“Quinlan Vos. You have some nerve coming here after what you've done.” Jocasta Nu-an old white haired pale woman, and curator of the Jedi Archives-said in an accusatory tone.
“I no longer embrace the Darkside. The Council has redeemed me. I am a Jedi.” The dark skinned man with dreads replied in a tone filled with conviction.
“Ohh? How interesting. A child touched by the Sith, yet he has come back a Jedi? You and Revan share such similarities.” The curious, calm voice of Kina Ha seemed to resound in the chamber, despite the softness of her tone.
Quinlan looked up at the long necked pale lady, and grinned. “I didn't know there was a Kaminoan in the Order. I'm Quinlan Vos, a pleasure to meet you.” Quinlan reached a hand out for a shake, and wore a braggadocious grin.
“Quinlan, retrieve your hand at once, it is rude to pry into the secrets of others.” Shaak Ti-the red skinned Togruta-sharply remarked.
Quinlan retrieved his hand like it had been scalded by fire, his grin ever so slightly wavered.
“Ah, are you, perhaps, a retrocoginator? This is a rare ability indeed. To peer into an object's past merely through touch. Remarkable. You may address me as Kina Ha, no need for titles.” Kina Ha praised.
“Sorry, force of habit.” Quinlan chuckled as he knew he was caught.
Shaak Ti hid a smile behind her tea cup, and Jocasta Nu openly gave Quinlan a stink eye for his break in decorum.
The final member of this impromptu council, A'Sharad Hett slowly opened his eyes at this exchange. His long hair was matt black, and perfectly combed, his robes were without a blemish, and his aura was stern, like a man who was accustomed to command. Speaking few words, he typically dictated his communication via action.
“Master Ha. Please enlighten us. Who is Revan?” A'Sharad plainly enquired, his every word carried with it a tasteful richness that could not be ignored.
The other Masters quietened down, and all stared at Kina Ha's big black eyes.
Kina Ha seemed to ignore the question as she stared out into nothing, her vision was unfocused. After a time, she began to speak, her volume hardly above that of a whisper.
“Neither Sith, nor Jedi, he wields the Light without burning in the Sun, and plays in the Dark without becoming lost. A visionary, a reformer, the more life he takes, the stronger he becomes, the more life he saves, the purer his purpose. More than a man, less than a God, but something more.” Kina Ha's words held some level of mysticism to them, and captured the imagination of all those present.
“What is he?” Shaak Ti, matching Kina's solemnity, whispered.
“Revan.” Kina Ha smiled, as if this answered all their doubts. “He is Revan.”
“Sister please. What next, are you going to tell us he's some legend in some ancient star war from a galaxy far, far away? I might be egotistical, but even I wouldn't compare myself to a God. We have nothing in common!” Quinlan exclaimed.
Kina Ha merely smiled at Quinlan, not taking his words to heart.
“What you are suggesting.” Jocasta Nu began with a serious frown. “Is that this man, is the same Revan who fought in the Mandalorian Wars? The one who destroyed the Jedi Order?!”
“Heh, finally, the old lady's ire is on someone else.” Quinlan grinned, and muttered to himself.
“The very same.” Kina Ha's reply sounded ethereal, as if it came from a fairy, or otherworldly being.
The crystals of Illum seemed to resonate with her words, and all went quiet as truth sang all around them, stunning Quinlan and Jocasta Nu to silence.
“Remarkable. He wields the Light & Dark without corruption.” A'Sharad muttered in awe, a fervent desire briefly flashed in his eyes, unseen by all.
“...Revan has shown up in our time of greatest need. His warning saved my life, but can we trust him? From your account, Master Ha, he might have done good, but historically speaking, he was a villain.” Shaak Ti cocked her head to the side, and tried to parse through the information, and form her own opinions.
“Balanced in the Force, Revan purged the corrupt, and rebirthed the Jedi Order from the ashes. His sacrifice rekindled the Republic when the Sith were poised for total domination. His return signals that the cycle has renewed.” Upon saying her piece, Kina Ha closed her eyes, signaling that she no longer wished to talk.
“Well, this Revan guy is pretty interesting, right? What with the healing stunt he pulled the other day. If I can be redeemed, I'm sure the masked man isn't so bad.” Quinlan stated with false bravado in an attempt to bolster the morale of those who were present.
“I shall go over the historical records. The more we learn about Revan, the better prepared we will be.” Jocasta Nu stood up, and excused herself.
“I am required elsewhere.” A'Sharad simply stated, then left. His destination was the battlefield between Revan and the Dark Adepts.
“It was nice meeting you, elder.” Shaak Ti smiled, and bowed graciously at Kina Ha before departing to soothe the spirits of the other Jedi Knights, & Padawans within the Temple.
Quinlan's eyebrow twitched. ‘Why'd you all leave me with this tall pale creep?!’
“Quinlan is it? Perhaps you would like to see for yourself, to witness what Revan was like.” Kina Ha held out her lightsaber.
Quinlan licked his lips, his throat suddenly felt itchy and dry.
‘Kriff it.’ He thought to himself, then took the handle, activating his innate ability.
Thousands of images flashed through his mind as nearly 4,000 years of history blinked by.
A robed man's back was turned to him. Looking at that back, Quinlan felt an aura like none other. Power gushed off the man in waves, and a sense of belonging unknowingly rose in his heart. His aura inspired confidence! That change was on the horizon!
Slowly turning around, a mask was revealed, and Quinlan saw a sea of Mandalorians, epic weapons from a bygone age, and a thousand warships battling in the sky.
The man raised his hands, and an unending river of lightning spread forth, bringing the ships crashing down to earth.
A theme seemed to play in his mind, and Quinlan almost found himself kneeling down in supplication.
Kina Ha wasn't joking around.
This man, no, this beloved child of the Force was something more, something he had never seen before.
He was:
Revan!
~~~~~~~~
Somewhere on the lower levels of Coruscant, amongst the other beggars and homeless, a man bearing severe burn wounds in tattered robes felt a pulse in the Force. Pulling upon this sensation like a drowning man full of water in his lungs grabbing onto the first hand that reached out to him, he gasped heavily.
Memories surged as a fraction of a fraction of minty green light fell upon his shoulders.
One eye was blind, milky white, whilst the other swirled with understanding, and a deep wisdom.
The nearby scattered trash rattled as he stood, and the Lightside sang as one of its champions rose from the grime of Coruscant.
~~~~~~~~~
AN: As a reader, I never liked it when authors got lost in interludes, so I'll try to wrap this up. Coming up we have: The Bad Guys POV (Maul, Inquisitors, and a new group), Tann + Mystery guest + CIS leaders, and Vader last as the siege of Eriadu begins. Maaaybe I'll do Keira/Tython and Bail/Mon Mothma too, but don't want to stretch these interludes out too much.
Comments
Axle Dagerot
WOOO, HELL YEAAAAH, MAUL INTERLUDE BABAYYYYYYY!!!!!
Karp
The kid is like 2-4 years old. Considering the Vong are a thing, he has the potential to be a student 10 years from now.
conor webster
Wasn’t Galen marek parents also on Kashyyyk? maybe Corvus could take Galen under his wing and train him
