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attonposting · 1 year

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Presenting: A Mostly Complete Breakdown of the KotOR II Crew's Relationships With Each Other

(Assuming a LS Exile, a dollop of headcanon, and a lot of reading time)

Kreia

Kreia and Atton: Of all the crewmate dynamics in the game, this one's the most well-explored, with a particularly glorious smattering of high-grade explosives. What's maybe less apparent is why they hate each other. Atton's part is straightforward; his demeanor towards Kreia starts out the same abrasive, pseudo-hostile that's his default. It sours further when she talks down to him and acts like a holier-than-thou Jedi, but he'll still interact with her willingly. And it bottoms out into murderous, trapped loathing at the Telos academy, where Kreia becomes his slavemistress and he avoids her whenever possible, desperately hungry to lash out but terrified of her retribution.

Why does Kreia hate Atton so much, though? It starts out because he's an irreverent bastard, but I think it comes down to two main reasons. Number one is that he reminds her of Sion, her worst student. They're a pair of stubborn, sadistic, infatuated blockheads who took all the wrong lessons from Malachor and run about with their oversimplified conclusions causing destruction for no purpose but its own sake. Most importantly, what Atton shirks and what Kreia embraces is accountability. Kreia believes in ownership of one's choices to the point that she can't accept redemption – wanting to change, admitting you were wrong - as an honest decision. Atton? Atton doesn't believe in redemption either, but that's because he fuckin' bails rather than own up to anything. And when Kreia uncovers that, how he cowers from his own nature, her scorn is boundless.

Reason two is that Kreia would have rather traveled with the Exile alone, shaping them in isolation of other influences. Atton is the first spanner in this plan. Later on it becomes clear that the Force has designs for the Exile, and that their entourage is simply something she must contend with, but Atton still gets the short end of the stick here because he's one of the companions who wants to get close to the Exile, especially if they're a lady. And the possibility of Atton, who is a lesson in doing everything wrong, influencing the Exile? Not on her watch.

Kreia and Bao-Dur: Bao-Dur is one of the crewmates Kreia hates most, though not through any fault of his own. He defies her probing (she really doesn't like it if she learns he actually can be read, just not by her), and she also dislikes the old and powerful connection he has with the Exile, because anyone who can mold the Exile, or who they'll turn to for support, fundamentally undermines her mentorship. Bao-Dur is neutral to Kreia at first but comes to distrust her the more he overhears. Her guidance to the Exile sets off a lot of red flags, but he doesn't really feel prompted to act on it unless the Exile starts listening to her – whereupon he'll incorrectly blame his General's fall on Kreia and attempt to act in their protection.

Kreia and Mira: Kreia doesn't particularly see Mira as a threat compared to many of the others. A foolish little girl clinging to a code that will get her killed, yes. But she's not an obstacle to her plans for the Exile, being as standoffish as she is, and so Kreia leaves her to her own devices, biding her time for the day she'll be tested. Mira is very wary of Kreia without fully understanding why – looks harmless, but Mira's good at feeling people and Kreia gives her all kinds of bad vibes – so she keeps a wide berth. Any conversations they've had have been very short and very acerbic on both sides.

Kreia and Brianna: This gets really complicated if you ascribe to the 'Kreia is Arren Kae' theory, which I do. It would certainly explain why Kreia's hackles go up when Brianna joins the crew, when the connection to Atris and later her antipathy for Visas is something she makes liberal use of, and also why she's so disapproving of training Brianna to be a Jedi when she expresses very little opinion on the subject for anyone else. There might be a smidgen of an old desire to keep her out of harm's way (and even moreso, to remain free of the Force and its machinations), but Kreia refuses to allow whatever feelings remain influence her decisions – and she throws Brianna right into harm's way when she uses her at the rebuilt Enclave and drops her off at a freshly-unhinged Atris's feet. That right there kills any nascent thoughts I might have had of Kreia approaching Brianna for any constructive reason during their earlier travels. Before everything goes down, I don't see them crossing paths much – Kreia has an especial desire to keep her distance and Brianna is not one to socialize.

Kreia and Mical: There is not a lot of interaction that can happen when you've been mindwhammied into forgetting the other person exists. I don't think Mical knew Kreia was on the ship at all until the game's climax, even when he was looking right at her. Kreia has an interesting opinion on Mical, though. She definitely disdains his idealism and softheartedness, but I think she does respect him in a backhanded way – he's the only one who managed to figure out what was happening, and actually forced her hand in order to keep the game afoot. I certainly read a sort of admiration in “you were a wasted pawn of the Republic,” and that's more than anyone else on the crew gets out of Kreia.

Kreia and Visas: So Kreia resents Visas, a lot. She did not want the Exile to have to face Nihilus, and Visas's arrival locked that very dangerous confrontation in stone. She adapts her plans quite successfully, because she's nothing if not resourceful, but Kreia's attempts to prey on Brianna's distrust and inflame her jealousy have nothing to do with any threat Visas presents. I think it also comes back to her scorn for both weakness and redemption; if Visas was weak enough to have her will crushed, she doesn't deserve to be lifted up, and the Exile only wastes their limited energy on a pity project. On her end, Visas is a remarkably mellow individual, but Kreia is the one person on the ship she does not trust. The others are clear presences through the Force, even drawn towards the Exile's alignment as they are. When she looks at Kreia, her sight is... blurred. Difficult to see. And her Master had spoken of his own Master, a Darth Traya...

Kreia and Canderous: I doubt Kreia sees Canderous as anything more than one of Revan's creatures, broken upon their charisma and following their orders in vain. She's generally pretty uninterested in any of the crewmates beyond their potential uses, but her treatment of Canderous is especially dismissive in that she doesn't even care if he sees her for what she is. I find her general scorn of the Mandalorians interesting, given that they do espouse a lot of the philosophy she shares in-game – they have a sink-or-swim ideology that eschews aid and forces each member to survive on their own merits, always seeking adversity to become strong lest they dull their edge, without falling into the Sith trap of self-destruction through infighting. I guess they're not subtle enough for her tastes. Canderous hates her for the same reason Atton does – she didn't even try to hide the fact that she was manipulating him, just nailed him to the wall on day one. Even if she hadn't been so blatant, I doubt Canderous has much trust for Jedi-types lying around after the plot twist of the first game. Revanchists, he's totally game to hang out and swap war stories, but Kreia's more of the 'preachy old crone in robes' breed of Jedi and he remembers what happened the last time he trusted those.

Kreia and T3-M4: Oh boy, but Kreia does not like the metal cinnamon roll. She's got issues with her students having attachments to people that aren't her, and she already dislikes droids for their immunity to mental alteration and probing. Which is actually intensely hypocritical of her, since she otherwise praises things that are dead to the Force and can defy its will – but I suppose it's less laudable when the Force in question is her own. Same as how Kreia praises focusing on practical skills rather than the Force, yet apart from her persuasion has few of her own, which is why these droids can defy her so. Add in that it's T3's navicomputer lock that's preventing Kreia from discovering where Revan has gone, and it's no surprise she blasts him in the cut content. For T3's part, he's never liked the old woman – she's very rude, yes, but more important is the question of how exactly Kreia got on the ship in the first place. How and when, I don't know, but she definitely hijacked T3's ship at some point and interrupted his Very Important Mission. Even if their goals ended up being aligned, T3 has issues with people who think they don't have to ask for his permission.

Kreia and HK-47: For this one, we're back to Kreia's refusal to view droids as people. In her eyes, HK-47 is yet another one of the tools Revan lavished their time on in a meaningless sidetrack from their true potential. Unlike T3, though, HK doesn't present an ongoing obstacle, just a blunt instrument and an irritating reminder of her former student's proclivities. HK, for his part, frequently occupies his processors with potential scenarios where he could terminate the old-model meatbag without compromising his Master's integrity. The unusually strong Force bond presents an altogether new challenge for his assassination protocols and he's eager to overcome fresh obstacles – for purely hypothetical purposes, of course.

Atton

Atton and Bao-Dur: They tolerate each other, which is as good as things get with Atton. It's a sort of wary, untapped understanding that they've both done some shit and don't want to talk about it, and they've kind of got a personal issue with the other's war crimes (and that sure is a KotOR II sentence) but don't think it's worth it to drag it out. It could warm up into something friendlier if they ever hashed out an understanding – they have some crucial things in common and could really get each other in a way most of the crew couldn't – but it would take something big to get that talk to happen. Apart from the history, Bao-Dur thinks Atton is ridiculous and Atton thinks Bao-Dur is a stick in the mud and a gearhead, but they do trust each other to have the General's back. And that's the most important thing to both of them, so they get along all right.

Atton and Mira: They snipe at each other constantly, and get into more verbal brawls than anyone else, since they're both pretty chatty and not afraid to insert themselves into other people's business. But their relationship isn't as hostile as it looks from the outside, even if it has involved stolen equipment and at least one minor sonic charge being planted on the pilot's seat. They annoy the hell out of each other, but Atton is about as fond of Mira as he is of anyone who isn't the Exile. She's relatable without the traits that make him despise himself, and when they're on the job, the two of them often end up backing the same strategy, or spouting very unintentionally synchronized “oh, kriff no”s to someone else's, despite having no actual desire to agree with each other.* And Mira thinks Atton's an idiot, but he's a familiar kind of idiot, and he's good for a laugh (read: easy to wind up and create some on-demand performance art.)

(*For posterity's sake, group strategizing usually slices out like this: Atton, Mira, and Visas on Team Sneaky Fuckers; Brianna, Canderous, and HK-47 on Team Why Don't We Just Light The Place Up; and Mical and very occasionally Bao-Dur on Team I Am Very Concerned You Would Suggest That. Kreia would be a Sneaky Fucker but refuses to provide positive reinforcement to any of these cretins. Poor T3's contributions go nearly unnoticed due to half the crew not understanding Binary. G0-T0 vacillates between Sneaky Fuckery and systemic elimination of all obstacles depending on the situation, and for Hanharr, do you even have to ask?)

Atton and Brianna: They openly hate each other. Brianna thinks Atton is undisciplined and uncouth, Atton thinks the Handmaiden's a self-righteous bitch. The reason they really loathe each other instead of the usual 'just thinks that person is really annoying' is because they don't trust each other to have the Exile's best interests at heart – Atton thinks she's a spy and Brianna thinks he's a slimy, lying opportunist, and if she learns who he really is, that's going to get five times worse. Both of them have fantasized about kicking the other's ass at length, but Brianna has too much discipline to start a fight and Atton's worried that he might not come out on top. Killing her would be easy, but an honorable duel with a crazy Echani ice queen who spends every waking hour boxing air in her skivvies? No thanks.

Atton and Mical: Atton despises Mical on principle. Everything Mical does infuriates him, no matter how innocuous. Mical needs help in a firefight? Useless fop, don't know why we let him tag along. Mical heals Atton afterwards? Pushy asshole thinks he's better than me. Mical asks Atton to pass him the salt at breakfast? Get it yourself, you needy bastard. Mical looks in the Exile's direction? Die in a fire, Blondie. He drags him endlessly, coming up with a stream of excuses to hate him when the reality of it is that Atton's pissed that Mical is a better person than him in every single way, and has decided to react to that by resenting his existence rather than, y'know, trying to improve himself at all.

On the other side, Mical dislikes Atton - it would be very strange if he didn't - but he's patient and diplomatic, rarely rising to the bait and occasionally extending olive branches (which only serve to make Atton angrier and more unreasonable.) He wants Atton to work out his issues, because that in turn would be best for the Exile who cares for all of them, and also because he hopes that it might get him to improve his behavior. Of course, it'd be much simpler to drop Atton off on the next planet, but unfortunately he's already ruled out the possibility.

Atton and Visas: They don't interact much. Visas doesn't have any particular feelings about Atton; she trusts him because his feelings towards the Exile are clear and that's the only metric that matters to her. Atton doesn't care that she was Sith, it becomes obvious by like three days in that she's not a threat and the Handmaiden's full of it – it's her servility that creeps him out. It's that Jedi tendency to act like drones instead of people. He doesn't know what to do with that (he does, knows a lot about how to crack open their shells, but not in any way he wants to remember), so he keeps his distance. The sad thing about this is that they do have some big things in common; they're ex-Sith who lost all hope in the galaxy only to have it restored by the Exile, who they'd gladly die for because they don't value their own lives and because the Exile is so much greater than they could ever be. But I can't realistically see Atton taking his walls down for that conversation to happen. Visas can talk about her feelings but keeps to herself; Atton reacts to emotional honesty like a wet cat.

Atton and Canderous: Pretty hostile. Atton's not as overt about it as Bao-Dur (since his hate congealed in a different direction), but he has any veteran's grudge against the Mandalorians and doesn't love the idea of them reorganizing. Canderous has a thick hide when it comes to trading jabs, but he's less tolerant of anyone shit-talking his people and their honor, and you can bet Atton has made plenty of snipes from the relative safety of the Exile's favor. Atton eventually ends up crawling to the Exile to bail him out after Canderous calls him out on his bullshit and challenges him to throw hands, because he could kick Atton's ass in a brawl and Atton fully knows this but will not admit it.

Atton and T3-M4: T3-M4 has done nothing wrong in his life, ever, and Atton is proof that there is no fairness in the galaxy. T3 retaliates by inconveniencing Atton in endlessly small ways – colliding with him while he's carrying food, tweaking his laundry cycle to singe his clothes, constantly changing the astrogation system's access codes. And, of course, baiting him into pazaak only to crush him with his superior logic matrices. Atton brought all of this on himself and T3 would strongly consider stopping if Atton would only apologize and admit he has been very rude and mean. He doesn't.

Atton and HK-47: A flaming mess. Atton distrusts T3-M4, who is a cinnamon roll with a shock arm; now take his irrational hatred of droids, add in psychotic programming and an expressed desire to murder everyone on board, and you can be sure he's sleeping with his door locked. This is made worse because while HK-47 also hates Atton, he's very interested in his past as a fellow assassin and Jedi-hunter – irritated that Atton seems to have fallen prey to that insidious meatbag disease known as 'regret', but he has no desire to respect those boundaries and is highly curious about comparing their tactics and K-D ratios. Mostly because HK wants to express his clear superiority over his meatbag imitators, but also because there may be an opportunity to refine his craft. (If we're dealing with a DS Atton, they still hate each other, but it's because Atton is as disgusted by the idea of a droid doing his job as HK is of him. But you can expect a lot more open debate of torture tactics at the breakfast table.)

Bao-Dur

Bao-Dur and Mira: They don't have an awful lot in common, but they interact well enough. It's part because Bao-Dur is the king of the garage and Mira spends plenty of time in there, and part because Mira likes to poke people to see how they'll react (and at first, she really wants to know if the beefcake Zabrak does talk or if he just tinkers in the droid bay all day looking like a snack.) Bao-Dur's a wallflower but he can sass back with the best of them when prodded, and he's gotten involved with Mira's maintenance more than once - enough for Mira to grudgingly respect that damn, she runs a tight ship with her equipment but this guy knows what he's talking about.

Bao-Dur and Brianna: Unfortunately I can't really see these two coming together outside the field. They both keep to themselves in their spare time, and neither of them are the type to initiate conversations, so most of their talks have purely been strategy or reacting to situations as they happen. They're both pretty practical and goal-oriented people, so they don't clash. The one place these two intersect is Telos – Brianna is actually very impressed with Bao-Dur's work and considers him singularly skilled. If she expressed that, things might warm up a bit, though Bao-Dur definitely has some not-so-charitable thoughts about why a Jedi Master was sitting around stealing power from Telos's already strained grid instead of helping with the restoration efforts in any way.

Bao-Dur and Mical: They get on quite well. Bao-Dur's more of an introvert while Mical likes to strike up conversations, but they're the two most Republic-positive people on the Hawk and they're both appreciative of the other's work, which is a good foundation. Mical definitely has questions about Bao-Dur's extensive experience with Telos on his studies of worlds sickened by the Wars, which is a topic Bao-Dur has a direct interest in – he'd hoped to branch out before the Telos Project started going sour. They've had plenty of problem-solving brainstorming sessions, even if their musings in their respective fields tend to go way over the other's head. I was also gonna bring up that they both think the world of the Exile and find endless inspiration in their actions, but that's kind of true for everyone in KotOR II: The Simp Lords. Still, it's those two and Visas who are the least afraid about expressing it.

Bao-Dur and Visas: They go for a long time without crossing paths, but they've got plenty in common – they're fundamentally gentle people who struggle with feelings of despair and anger borne of PTSD, and they both appreciate solitude to center themselves without actually having a real desire to self-isolate. I could see them taking up a companionable silence one day on the Hawk while the others are off adventuring, and in time coming to meditate or simply exist together. They've both got a planet's worth of trauma on their shoulders and they could forge a strong connection if one of them ever reached out.

Bao-Dur and Canderous: Bad, bad, bad. Bao-Dur's deal is self-explanatory – he hates the Mandalorians with an all-consuming fervor, to the point where he's uncomfortable with himself, and Mandalore's presence on the ship just drags it all out into the open. And Canderous doesn't understand this, or the depths of Bao-Dur's PTSD; he sees a skilled warrior who was instrumental in his people's defeat, which he's been taught not to personally resent. So, y'know, there's nothing stopping him from dropping by and striking up a chat between two old warriors. And he figures out real quick that Bao-Dur's the type that holds a grudge, but I don't think he can really grasp just how deep it goes. In Canderous's world, if you've got a problem, you brawl it out. Bao-Dur could only begin to find common ground with a Mandalorian if he was shown some remorse, which just isn't going to happen. Now make it not just any Mandalorian but their leader, this symbol for everything he despises, who loudly intends to reunite his scattered thugs and murderers for the next great war? Yeah. It's bad.

Bao-Dur and T3-M4: They have a rocky start, since T3 really doesn't like that suggestion of a memory wipe. But Bao-Dur's not going to press if this mouthy Astromech is that opposed to it, and if I had to peg one guy on the KotOR II Hawk who sees droids as fully-fledged people, it's gonna be him every time. The Remote talks up Bao-Dur enough for T3 to trust him with some maintenance, and it leads to a gorgeous heat sink on his processors and the smoothest treads of his life. It doesn't take long for Bao-Dur to become T3's favorite, second to the Exile. T3 repeatedly rants to Bao-Dur about all the incredibly annoying and illogical things the organics on this ship get up to. Bao-Dur chuckles, agrees with everything, and never breathes a word of it to anyone else.

Bao-Dur and HK-47: HK-47 is a one-of-a-kind piece of machinery, but Bao-Dur could really do without the cutting remarks. If he has to hear 'Insincere Placation' one more time, he's kicking him out of the garage. And if it's not the disparaging comments about his skills as a mechanic, it's the frankly disturbing homicidal musings. Bao-Dur wonders if programming a droid to be this single-mindedly murderous constitutes abuse. HK, for his part, does come to respect Bao-Dur's skills, and has very good reason to fear self-proclaimed mechanics after a low-repair amnesiac Revan did unspeakable things with a hydrospanner. But his friendly musings about the laudable efficiency of the slaughter at Malachor V and the truly impressive galactic implications of all that death did not produce the enlightening discussion he'd hoped for.

Mira

Mira and Brianna: Mira first saw the Handmaiden from afar when she was stalking the Exile on Nar Shaddaa. They meet properly when Mira's poking around the ship, and okay, yeah, Mira sees why this girl fought like a dancer with that electrostaff – she spends all her time training. Like, does she even know what fun is? An intervention is necessary. In her efforts to get the Handmaiden out of her shell, Mira drags her out of the cargo hold for anything she can think of – the latest gossip on the Ebon Hawk, girl talk, drinks, blaster practice, an improvised dartboard with a picture of Kreia taped over it. Brianna really doesn't know what to do with this attention at first, and she's very put off. But Mira refuses to let her be awkward, and... even if all these customs are foreign to her, she finds she does enjoy being sought out? By the end of the game, those two are tight-knit. Mira's eventually the one who teaches Brianna how sarcasm works, something which Brianna wields with terrifying precision.

Mira and Mical: Mira's decent enough to the guy, but with a distinctly condescending flair. The Disciple is like a pet, maybe – cute, harmless, and doesn't do anything useful as far as she can tell. Well, that's not strictly true, because he's good for getting Atton to act like a ronto in heat, but she doubts the Exile keeps him on for that. They've squabbled before on missions when Mical had an issue with laying out a minefield on civilian turf (they were just flashbangs and stunners, dammit, what does he take her for?) or thought talking to a bunch of crime kingpins would work. Still, he's nice to look at if you can tune him out.

Mira and Visas: Mira tries to draw this one out of her shell, too, but with much less success. It's part because Brianna really hates Visas and Mira doesn't get their Jedi crap enough to work out whatever this spat is, so Girls' Night dies before it ever has a chance to become tradition. The other half is because Visas barely reacts to anything Mira does – she'll never refuse her company, but she seems indifferent to everything Mira tries to engage her with. It makes Mira sad, and also really uncomfortable, and she eventually gives up for fear that she's just dragging around someone who doesn't know how to say no to her. (This wasn't strictly the case. Visas is terrible at enforcing boundaries, but she generally didn't mind – just didn't really understand what was expected of her. Aimless chatter is a luxury she had to relearn. On the whole, just being on this ship that teemed with life and determination instead of draining them was often enough for her, and she spent many hours feeling and observing the others from afar.) But Mira doesn't stop watching Visas, and she's relieved when other members of the crew, and of course their fearless leader, connect with her in their own ways.

Mira and Canderous: Man, this one gets complex. Mira loves to pretend that she's over her past, and she's super not. The Mandalorians are the only family she remembered. It was screwed up on a lot of levels and she understands that better now than she did then, but... she knew who she was when she was one of them. Dreamed of being one for real someday, before Malachor ended everything. So finding the hidden enclave on Dxun stirred up a lot of mixed feelings. She keeps her distance from Canderous, but she's drawn to him anyway. It's Mandalore, a legend brought to life, of course she's curious – that's normal, right? And maybe one day he offhandedly comments that she handled something like a Mandalorian, and it means the world to her and she's not prepared for it, at all, and she tries to play it cool but ends up spilling that she halfway was one. And they swap stories for a long time after that. She doesn't take him up on his offer of returning to Dxun with him, but she feels a sense of completion, maybe closure, that it was made. Canderous obfuscates it, because no one will accuse him of going soft, but he's fond of that girl. She's got real fight in her.

Mira and T3-M4: For a while, they don't really interact, but Mira's eagle eye eventually catches that many of the inconvenient accidents on board the Hawk coincide with a little Astromech whirring by moments before disaster. Which is concerning, but also really funny, given that the usual butt of the joke is either Atton or HK-47. So she does what she does best and gets involved – either she gets a piece of the action or she's busting his operation. T3 promptly pops out eight pieces of weaponry she didn't realize a utility droid could have mounts for, wheels her over to a holoscreen, leverages her right back with the secret stash she keeps under the docking ramp panel, and recruits her wholesale. Everyone those two dislike proceeds to have a very frustrating week. She doesn't understand Binary, so they can only ever talk when T3 plugs himself in and types, but damn, Mira thought she had a mouth but that droid is sassy. Scrappy little fucker runs the ship from the shadows - she's staying on his good side.

Mira and HK-47: Mira tries very hard to pretend that HK doesn't unnerve the hell out of her. She's seen those things in action and she's not entirely convinced this one isn't a plant that's going to drill them in the back once some unknown trigger is tripped. HK-47 is deeply offended by the accusation – less that he would murder them all if he could, and more that Mira can't recognize how his abundance of personality and far more intimidating looks set him apart from his mass-produced copycats.

Brianna

Brianna and Mical: In-game, they can't ever interact, but I like to imagine that all six of the Lost Jedi come along with the Exile. These two have an awkward start – she's a soldier trained not to question while he's a historian who does nothing but. Mical has some questions about Atris that'll get Brianna's hackles up, and she'll want nothing to do with him for a while after that. But as she travels with the Exile, she'll come to realize that he's right; Atris's actions run counter to her spoken principles, and the Exile is a truer expression of the Jedi teachings despite having been cast from the Order. They'll coalesce most post-game, when Brianna sets aside her single-minded dedication to combat to become an archivist. Mical has plenty of interest in helping her with Atris's salvaged collection and disseminating the information within.

Brianna and Visas: Visas is demure and respectful – Brianna bites her head off every time she speaks up. It's a mess. Brianna's been raised with an incredibly black-and-white, fear-based set of views on the Jedi. There's no redemption for Sith in Atris's academy, only punishment and execution. The Exile skated by Atris's conditioning with their Force magnetism, and to a lesser extent, their similarities to Yusanis – Visas is not so lucky. Brianna's jealousy isn't strictly romantic in nature, though. The way I see it, it has more to do with her deep-seated feelings of abandonment and never being good enough no matter how hard she works. She thought she and the Exile were forging something special, that the Exile saw something in her that no one else had (and maybe that was even true, maybe she does have potential), and then they went off to gallivant with a Sith. She feels cheapened, replaced – maybe even scorned, if the Exile sees her the same way, as something broken and wrong to be fixed. And she can justify it to herself with what Atris taught her instead of actually confronting her own feelings. So it becomes a mantra: Visas is a Sith, she cannot be trusted, and all the time the Exile spends with her is time for her to sink her hooks into their mind.

I would like to think, on a LS run (as a mirror to what happens on a DS one), when Kreia tricks Brianna into despair and she subsequently discovers Atris's corruption, that Brianna has an epiphany – that she was watching for enemies in the wrong places, and that Atris's teachings had blinded her to what was evident in Visas's stance, if only she'd been able to accept what she saw. And by the time they band together on Malachor, they've buried the hatchet. Visas accepts this heartfelt apology readily – she never held a grudge even when Brianna was snarling at her daily. Post-game they become quite close. They understand plenty about what it means to dedicate yourself to someone out of desperation and out of inspiration, and they more than anyone else on the crew share the Exile lifting them up and setting them free. And they share their strengths – Brianna passes on her knowledge of combat now that she's ready to set it aside, and at her behest, Visas spends the time to teach her to see through the Force so that she'll never be blinded to others' hearts again.

Brianna and Canderous: Brianna's wary of Mandalore and disagrees stridently with him on philosophy – they agree on fealty and discipline, but discussing the purpose of combat has led to some raised voices and a few worried (or popcorn-crunching) eavesdroppers. But they do respect each other as fellow warriors. They've sparred a few times, even if Canderous refused to remove his raiment in a minor bit of tradition-crossroads. Canderous even lost a round or two, which he is damn impressed by but privately worries about for weeks later. He's getting old.

Brianna and T3-M4: Brianna largely ignores T3-M4. This is probably a good thing, since T3 holds a grudge from when she stole the Ebon Hawk and delivered him to Atris, where he had a very unpleasant time of things. He was not happy to see her board the ship yet again, and kept a close optic on her for a while. Eventually he decided she was unlikely to repeat offend, and she at least doesn't make a mess of the ship like some organics, but the beeps and boops he uses to address her are not especially polite ones.

Brianna and HK-47: Brianna cannot fathom why the Exile reactivated the assassin droid, and once it starts talking, she really doesn't understand why they keep it around. This is mostly because it's clearly a psychotic tool of war, the kind of single-mindedly bloodthirsty creation Atris always accused the Exile of being, and its company is... unbefitting for the hero she's come to know. But also, and she stubbornly refuses to admit this to herself, she's frustrated that the Exile thinks they need more firepower on the battlefield. Isn't she good enough for them?

Mical

Mical and Visas: They get along very well. They start interacting early on, when Visas first joins the crew and has all kinds of old untreated injuries that need tending. After the medbay visits taper off, the meditation visits start. Mical's curious about Sith philosophy and techniques and Visas is pretty much the most tailor-fitted discussion partner the galaxy could have possibly given him on those topics. Visas is dubious of Mical's own views, particularly that he clings to them when he's seen so many things that undermine them and readily admits this, but over her travels with the Exile comes to appreciate his steadfast optimism more. They're both very gentle people and Mical could do wonders in shoring up Visas's lost faith – a favor Visas pays back in full when Kreia betrays the team and leaves Mical to the horrifying realization that the Force is decaying around the Exile. She feels his distress and seeks him out, invites him to meditate together as he so often approached her, and repeats the words he always insisted upon – no matter how fraught it seems, there is always hope.

Mical and Canderous: When Mandalore joins the team, Mical's immediate concern is the Exile's mental health. Bao-Dur has clearly been doing poorly since Dxun and it's hardly a secret the Exile shares much of the same trauma. He keeps to the background and watches carefully, his own few interactions with the man being brusque and dismissive. Carth is... concerned, to say the least, when Mical reports of a new Mandalore; it gets interesting when Mical's next transmission contains some footage. Much like the player, it doesn't take Carth long to pick up on the fact that Mandalore's voice is just Canderous's through some filters. This is how poor Mical ends up as the go-between between two old frenemies, passing notes back and forth like he's stuck at the middle desk. That said, he's greatly relieved that their Mandalorian contact is on the up and up; he would not question the Exile's decisions, but did worry about what might come of them until it became clear this was all the work of the Force.

Mical and T3-M4: They first met when Mical requested to see the records of the Exile's trial. T3-M4 was wary of the request, but organics who are actually courteous to utility droids are a rarity, and Mical eventually won him over without having to fetch the Exile for proof. Once T3 finds out that Mical has connections with Carth Onasi, they're fast friends and occasional coworkers, though there's a bit of friction involved because you know Carth would have told him to fish for any information on Revan's whereabouts, and T3 can't talk, as much as he'd like to reunite his old (and new!) friends.

Mical and HK-47: Of all the unfortunate meatbags HK-47 must share the ship with, it is the Republic one who clearly has the least merit. He has tried to convince his Master why a bit of target practice is necessary to keep his assassination protocols from degrading in the monotony of hyperspace travel, but for some reason truly unparseable to his processors, he has repeatedly been denied on this front. On Mical's part, HK-47 is a firm reminder of Darth Revan's character whenever his musings about their war strategy start becoming too favorable.

Visas

Visas and Canderous: It's so wild to me that I would have never known anything was here at all, if those legends over at TSLRCM hadn't brought back all of those Visas-Canderous interactions on the Ravager. Like, Visas forcing him to keep on fighting after a gravely wounded Canderous tells them to leave him behind, that he's not useful anymore... Hello?? My girl came full circle???

I don't know how much these two coincided before the end of the game, because they are exceptionally different people. Visas tends to hang in the background, and I doubt Canderous spared the Miraluka in the aft dorm that much thought beyond “damn, they make Sith different than they used to.” But there are no words to express how Visas felt when destiny called them back to Telos and not a single one of the crew balked in the face of her Master – and nowhere did that sentiment land harder than Canderous, who mustered an army to stop a second Katarr and walked with her to face her nightmare in person. (It wasn't for a lack of will on the others' part, and I suspect many of them were strident about wanting to join. In a lot of cases, the two-party restriction comes down to game mechanics; here, it's that Nihilus would have straight-up eaten anyone else. Visas was the only Force-Sensitive he wouldn't, the Exile was the only one he couldn't.) She's well aware it wasn't a personal favor, but the reasons pale in the reality of it; she had believed nothing could stand before her Master, and together, Canderous and the Exile proved her wrong. And Canderous is forced to reassess Visas afterwards, once he's done licking his wounds and kicking himself for a lapse in resolve so bad a Sith had to haul him up and tell him to get moving. Which is where he got it wrong; a Sith she is not, but that girl's got beskar in her, especially if she survived that long as that thing's apprentice.

Visas and T3-M4: At first, T3-M4 is quite cross about being overloaded via the Force and the attempt on his new Master's life. But the immediate request of termination is... concerning, and observing the following chain of events leads T3 to suspect that she'd been given orders that went against her core motivators, something T3 is distressingly familiar with. He observes Visas for a bit longer – he developed a number of protocols regarding Sith in his formative months - but soon deems them irrelevant once he's mapped her behavioral patterns and found them quite agreeable, if perhaps more cloistered than strictly recommended.

His initial diagnostic of conflicting orders seems correct, and T3 enacts a policy of friendliness in simpatico. Whenever ship maintenance takes him towards the aft dormitory, he brings her little things like Atton's share of dessert or interesting lightsaber parts from Bao-Dur's workshop. Visas is at first convinced that the Exile has simply programmed the droid to attend to her in their doomed quest to save her, but at some point she comments on it and discovers they genuinely have no idea what she's talking about. She does not know what to do with this information, but is immensely moved by the little droid. As a being without presence in the Force, Visas sometimes has difficulty perceiving his movements; when she admitted this, T3 developed a policy of emitting a low-volume sound pattern in her presence.

Visas and HK-47: HK was very excited when a Sith joined the crew - still irritated that his Master didn't simply dispatch the assassin like any being in possession of functioning logic circuits, but hoping that perhaps this was his chance to witness and partake in some real carnage. He ends up despairing when Visas ends up just as soft as the rest of them. She even eventually retracts her statement that all life exists for the purpose of being systemically extinguished! The Exile is a truly distressing influence.

Canderous

Canderous and T3-M4: Canderous affectionately calls T3-M4 a hunk of junk. T3-M4 affectionately calls him an obsolete model propped up with bulky life support mods. The little trash can's grown a spine since he last saw him – that, and Revan clearly taught him some creative curses while they were out on the edge of space. Canderous will never admit this and will lie through his teeth if accused, but he misses the old crew dearly – now more than ever that he's back on the Ebon Hawk. Having the droids around is an old, comfortable bit of nostalgia.

Canderous and HK-47: Canderous might be the only non-Revan meatbag HK-47 actually likes. It's mutual – HK's a fine soldier and an unreal shot with a scoped rifle, even if he's looking a little worse for wear these days. HK frequently seeks out Canderous to complain about the inconsistent and highly inefficient moral codes so many of these meatbags seem to possess. “Jedi,” Canderous agrees. He'd think a bunch of war veterans, particularly the type with a history of blowing up planets, would spend a little less time plucking loth cats out of trees and take a little more initiative with the armies of people trying to kill them, but he figures you can't take the Jedi out of the Revanchist. At least they're not boring.

T3-M4

T3-M4 and HK-47: Revan's two old droids are not friends. It's like a cat and a dog (or maybe a kitten and a grizzled bobcat) fighting over their Master's affection, except their Master left for milk a while ago and the only thing left to squabble about is who was more useful. Mutual accusations of obsoletion abound. T3 is very smug that HK spent a chunk of Revan's travels deactivated while he was present all along; HK, who is incredibly pissy that he was not involved in the grand plan and the game of cover-your-tracks that followed, never fails to point out that somehow, T3 failed so immensely that Revan saw fit to dismiss them both and carry on without backup, and that he at least does not have such a blatant error in judgment on his record. Add in that T3's tenure of the ship has involved hijackings and total crew pacification by a Sith warship, an Echani saboteur, and a band of slavers, and it's wholly understandable that this new Master decided they needed a more reliable droid.

It frequently comes down to HK-47 threatening the jumped-up Astromech with termination while T3-M4 smugly dangles the metaphorical car keys in his face.

G0-T0

I'm putting the crimeball in his own category because G0-T0 has remarkably one-note relationships with everyone and there isn't enough to say. It's really simple; they don't want him around and he doesn't want to deal with them. The only one worth any note is Mira, who he has identified as a reliable agent and a potential asset when it comes to delegating side jobs. She's proven capable of bringing in targets alive, which is a directive he's had some trouble with in the past. Mira's wary of having a major Exchange boss a few doors down from where she lays her head, but less on principle and more that she'll get caught in some conflicting-employers spat. And she wouldn't say no to some credits as long as the job didn't go against her sensibilities.

There's another exception with HK-47, because some of the restored content implies he and G0-T0 had a history – but personally I do not know what to make of this, because their timelines do not line up and it doesn't come up later, leaving me to think it was a dropped plotline like Kreia zapping T3 or Kaevee and the holocrons. I'd like to do something with this, but there isn't enough for me to go on. About as much as I can say is that HK-47 is quite cross at this comically rotund intruder for bobbing onto his base of operations and attempting to dictate orders when any being in possession of optics can tell his Master is clearly the one in charge, and for not having the decency to invade his ship without a fail-deadly detonator baked into his circuitry. But really, anyone who had employed so many of his sub-standard clones and established the galactic reputation of HK units as bounty hunters was going to fall pretty hard on HK-47's shitlist.

Bao-Dur has strongly considered 'accidentally' damaging some vital components when G0-T0 seeks him out for maintenance. The Remote is a very enthusiastic ball-shaped devil on his shoulder.

Unfortunately, I can't comment on Hanharr since I've never played with him, even on the one time I forced myself into a Dark Side run. But the vibe I get is pretty similar to the above; nearly all of the crew would stay well away, with HK being the only one actually enthused at the prospect of having him around. But I don't know Hanharr well enough to tell if that could even be mutual or if he's just furious with everything.

#if there's any dynamics i missed or you think work differently #let me know!#kotor #kotor 2 #kotor ii #kreia #atton rand #bao-dur #mira #brianna #the handmaiden #mical #the disciple #visas marr #canderous ordo #t3-m4 #hk-47

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yellow-faerie · 11 months

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Different Fates AU

Something about fate is that it is never certain.

The year is 1020 AHW and three children stand on the precipice of something more: Alek, scorched clothes catching at the edges of burn as he turns to look at the burning wreck of his home; Kimera, praying to the Old Gods as she listens to the battle above her hiding spot in the roots of the trees; Revael, crawling through the whirring mechanisms of the factory around her.

They do not know they stand there.

They do not know that what happens next will lay their lives out before them, and that even if their choices take them on paths far from each other, fate will inexorably and inevitably drag them back together.

This is how it starts.

Alek may stop, may fall to his knees and cry as the oncoming firestorm swallows him body and soul.

There are few universes that he does, for there is something fundamental in Alek that refuses to allow him to fall to despair even at his worst moments. It is the same here: he drags himself forward, swallows the pain of his mother’s eyes, his father’s grasping hand, the terrible cries all around him.

He keeps going. He gathers his few remaining people together and that is how they stay until they find an old, abandoned ship to get off planet on and join the crawling lines of refugees into the Republic space.

He sets his name as Alek on his new documentation and proudly adds his village’s name as his surname. They may be split up, him and those few other survivors, but there shall always be that thin thread that connects them.

A name.

The Jedi find him, and they are kind. They turn him from a scared adolescent into a man with a sure hand and a golden tongue.

His master, Arren Kae, is never entirely pleased with what he does. Atris – his only real friend his age – says that is just because she is a severe woman with no room for error, but sometimes when Master Kae looks at him, Alek thinks that she expects him to be more.

To be someone else.

Atris never lets him get too far into those sort of thoughts.

When Alek first joined the Jedi, a gangly nearly-thirteen-year-old, he spoke heavily accented Basic and even among a relatively unjudgmental people, he felt out of place.

He has studied a lot and that was how he met her: they shared a table in the Archives until that was their regular every day. Alek knows very little about Atris’ path and she knows very little about his, but they understand each other better than anyone else in that place – better, even, than their masters – and so they are best friends.

Alek knows that she, too, feels as though there is meant to be someone else beside her.

When the Mandalorian wars arise, Alek is the one to stand up against the tide of evil when the Jedi Council sits back and does nothing. It feels wrong and it feels right but Alek just knows that he cannot allow more people to feel as untethered as he did when he was younger and so he fights and he leads and-

He leaves the Jedi Temple behind. He leaves Atris behind with betrayal swimming in her eyes. He leaves Master Kae and her slight frown. He leaves it in the dust – an old attachment he must let go of.

And when he sleeps, he dreams.

Kimera has an option, lying in the roots of this terribly old tree.

Sometimes, she stays put – that is what her mother told her to do as she reloaded her slugthrower and ruffled her hair for the last time – and when the fighting dies down, her quiet crying flows through the empty silence. A Jedi finds her there and then she is Mandalorian no longer.

She hides with her father’s armour and the last of their rations and – most importantly – her uncle’s spare blaster.

She cannot sit here and do nothing.

Kimera is not an advantage to have on the battlefield, by any means, but her presence changes something and then her fate is set.

In the aftermath of the battle, her mother takes the fallen’s weapons and then she and her uncle and her aunts and her older cousin pile the bodies upon a pyre.

Kimera sometimes thinks she can still see the sightless eyes of the Enemy looking at her from that fire. She can never work out whether they deserved to die.

Clan Surik is small, depleted from the hundreds they once were by the Great Sith War. They had not stopped fighting since the apparent defeat of Exar Kun nearly sixteen years ago and so now it was just the six of them.

Kimera tries not to feel sad about the death around her.

She follows the Resol’nare in pride: she speaks the language, wears the armour, defends and provides for her clan, and is ready to follow the Mand’alor should he call upon them.

She is proud to be Mandalorian, to be trained to fight with such finesse as her ancestors of old and to sit around the fire with her family when the night falls, but…

Well, her father’s armour doesn’t fit her very well.

The Mand’alor does eventually call them to fight: her aunts have adopted another two orphans, who had once been slaves far beyond the reach of the Republic, and her cousin has married and had children of his own. There are eleven of them now and they rally those who had once followed them, all that time ago, to their cause – to the cause of all of Mandalore and its peoples.

They go to battle.

Her pistols feel wrong in her hands, Kimera thinks, as she lies restlessly upon her bedroll, and she can’t get the fear out of her head: the way people looked at her as she marched forward with her people.

And those eyes, of a dead Jedi long ago, looking straight at her from his funeral pyre in silent judgement.

Revael loses her foot to the machines a lot.

Not this universe. She doesn’t get distracted by her thoughts, or the throbbing of the machine around her, or the pain in her knees.

She gets out.

There is no scream in the Force, nothing to signify to the Jedi in their Temple that there is something wrong. Perhaps the Jedi out in the rest of the universe are better, but those that have made Corellia their home are happy to ignore the stench of rot when it pleases them.

For Corellia is a slave planet, although the Republic ignores that.

On the outside, it has the veneer of something beautiful and upstanding but that image is held up by the blood and sweat and lives of sentient beings who are cheaper than droids, easier to maintain than droids, cleverer than droids.

They maintain the great Industrial districts which make Corellia famous. They work in the warehouses, somewhere beyond the cameras. They work in plain sight for the upstanding criminals that have made Corellia their home.

Revael knows this, for as she grows up – to fourteen, fifteen, sixteen – until she is too big to fit into the machine and is moved to maintenance, the others begin to engage her in their muttered conversations.

Before, she only had her chosen-mother, the woman who kept her alive since she had been little. The others did not talk to her more than they had to, for children died more than anyone in those dark depths of the slave factories, and getting attached was foolish.

Now, Merillan is gone: dead or sold or something else equally terrible, Revael doesn’t know.

Now it is just her and this growing anger that she is here at all.

The slave tongue was familiar to her, for that was what Merillan whispered to her in the dark, but here is where she learned the stories and the myths.

Here is where she first heard of Revan, the relkin who burns their way through factories and leads the slaves forward.

“It is a particularly Corellian idea,” Revael hears one slave say to another, “on Tatooine, freedom comes with the rain, or with death. Fire is a tool of Depur.”

“Well, Revan is not a word in Amatakka, is it?” The other replies, in the same hushed undertones.

It leaves Revael, playing with the insides of a broken down droid in the pretence of doing work, thinking. She is clever and quick and perhaps…

She ducks her head as Depur passes by but she turns her eyes up, to look at his unprotected back.

Foolish, to think that he is safe in this place.

And so the children step, and they no longer grow up together, but fate (or maybe, if you are inclined to those sort of beliefs, it is the Force) is not inclined to rest at that.

Kimera watches her cousins sparring together and tries to push down the feeling that the war they’re fighting is wrong, and that she is watching the wrong people fighting, and that her gun doesn’t fit as neatly in her hand as a blade-

Alek sits in a Republic office, organising the last of the ships under his new command to be in the right places and filled with the right troops for when the official schism from the Order occurs and he can take the Jedi to join them, and he finds himself lonely for a touch he has never known and laughing voices he has never heard and the kiss-

Revael slips into a fresher alone and pulls down the cloth mask that keeps her face hidden, and she looks at her reflection and wonders what Merillan would think of the work she has done to free so many, to burn the name Revan into the consciousnesses of people who sit back while others suffer-

They do not know that in a mere few weeks, their paths will meet and then…

And then their fates will be entwined, as they always have been.

#this au roles around my head but refuses to be properly written in anything other than slightly poetic short fic #KotOR #KotOR I #KotOR II #Meetra Surik #The Jedi Exile #Revan #Female Revan #Darth Malak #Alek #Different Fates AU #<- I cannot express how many ideas for this I hve #with a Mandalorian Meetra who's the most jedi-like of them all and struggles so much with this identity she has #and with a Revan who puts her deep seated sense of justice to a different use #and Alek who has no-one to live up to just his own beliefs #Fae's Stuff #Fae's Fic

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ospreyeamon · 8 months

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the falls of the revanchist jedi

The narrative doesn’t directly examine why the Jedi who followed Revan and Malak fell. It is spoken of as a given – they followed Revan into war, so they followed Revan into darkness. That’s not how people work though. That’s not even how people under the influence of the Dark Side of the Force work. Spending twenty years as Palpatine’s thrall didn’t prevent Vader from throwing his Master into the reactor shaft to save his son. Revan can murder every NPC available to be murdered until reaching Rakata Prime only to pull a 180, redeem Bastila, and be feted as a hero of the Republic, Sith-eyes and all.

All but one of the surviving Revanchist Jedi who followed Revan and Malak into the Mandalorian Wars followed them again into the Jedi Civil War. Even the Exile, that lone dissenting actor, can say that they would have fought with their fellows against the Republic had their connection to the Force not been severed; that they were unable, not unwilling. Yet, the Exile can also say that they would not have followed Revan and Malak in attacking the Republic, that they went to war to defend the innocent. Many of the other Jedi who joined the war effort alongside them must have felt the same way, in the beginning.

Many of the soldiers of the Republic like Carth Onasi returned home after the Mandalorian Wars were over, even those like Saul Karath who would bow to Revan again. What then are the factors that led every surviving Revanchist Jedi, save the Exile, to follow Revan from the Mandalorian Wars into the Jedi Civil War?

1) The Mandalorian Wars changed the Jedi who fought in them. The Exile’s dialogue provides the different reasons why they might have left to fight in the war – to protect the innocent, to test their power, to defend the Republic, to win glory – reflecting varying motivations of Knights and Padawans recruited by Revan and Malak. However, despite the differences in the initial reasons for defying the Jedi Council to answer the Republic’s call, they all would have gone through similar uniting experiences during the war. Terrible experiences. Shared hardship often serves to reinforce group identity.

Older Jedi like Kavar and Arren Kae had fought wars before, but the initial expedition led by Revan and Malak was almost entirely composed of young Knights and older Padawans. Military morality, ethics in warfare, tends to be rather twisted from the perspective of modern western civilian morality. Your ability to prosecute the war and the safety of your soldiers takes priority over the lives of enemy, and sometimes even allied, civilians. Ruthless is more than a virtue, it’s a necessity. Collateral damage is an inevitability. For young relatively inexperienced Jedi, raised on ideals of valuing all life and always seeking non-violent resolutions, the transition to military command positions where they were not only required to kill, not only required to led troops to their death, but required to give orders which they knew would directly result in the deaths of civilians would have been distressing.

We know that the Exile once led troops directly into a minefield during the Battle of Dxun, but I think that barely scratched the surface. We aren’t given the full laundry list of the Mandalorians’ war crimes, but at the very least it includes the crime of aggression, murder of civilians, use of child soldiers, and conscription of captured civilians into the Neo-Crusaders and for forced labour. Given this disregard for the lives of civilians, I consider it likely that the Mandalorians also used hostages and headquartered themselves inside buildings like schools and hospitals. I suspect both sides used poison weapons, nuclear weapons, torture, and executed prisoners of war.

2) The Battle of Malachor V was a purge and a crucible of conversion. Kreia, HK-47, and the recording of Bastila Shan all say it; “a series of massacres that masked another war, a war of conversion”, “the intention was to destroy the Jedi, break their will, and make them loyal to Revan … Revan was "cleaning house" at Malachor V”, “to convert the last of the Jedi who fought beside [Revan] – and murder those who would not”. The Jedi in the radius of the Mass Shadow Generator would have included the Jedi Revan did not believe would agree with the plan to invade the Republic.

I think many of the Revanchist Jedi had already been falling by inches before Malachor. The Mandalorian Wars were brutal and one of the major symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is emotional dysregulation. Irritability, anxiety, depression, guilt, anger – the ongoing effects of trauma make a person more susceptible to inadvertently drawing on the Dark-Side of the Force. Using the Dark-Side of the Force was forbidden by the Code enforced by the Jedi Council, but the Revanchists had been pressured to compromise their ethics in other ways to effectively prosecute the war.

For any Jedi who had not already fallen, the detonation of the Mass Shadow Generator was a final blow they could not withstand. They all fell – into the Dark-Side, into death, away from the Force.

This was the conversion that Revan desired. The moral conversation – the acceptance of actions that violated their previous moral code, the previous moral code that would not have permitted making war on the Republic. The conversion in the Force – pushing Jedi to the Dark-Side ensured that they would not be accepted back into the Order by the Jedi Council even if they desired to return.

3) The Jedi Council’s decision to exile the Jedi who returned to face them was a gift to Revan and Malak. The Council’s judgement might have been rooted in their discomfort with what the Exile had become but the reason they publicly gave is that the Exile disobeyed the Council to follow Revan to war. That reason applied equally to every single other Revanchist. By exiling the one Revanchist to return the Jedi Council exiled them all, whether or not they intended to. They may not have, but by deciding to keep secret the true reasons behind their sentence of exile they ensured the other Revanchists could interpret their judgement no other way.

Telling the Revanchist Jedi they would never be welcome to return to the Jedi Order ensured that they would never go back. Onwards was the only path left to them.

4) Revan was extremely charismatic and competent. The Revanchist Jedi had already decided that Revan and Malak judgement was better than the Jedi Council’s when they chose to defy the Council’s orders to follow them to war. Revan, Malak and the Revanchists then won the war for the Republic. In fact, Revan even discovered the shadowy threat the which had been the Council’s justification for sitting out the war through engaging in it, while the Jedi Council remained ignorant.

The Republic government probably bungled the early stages of the Mandalorian Wars by not intervening sooner. The Mandalorians were committing more than enough war crimes for them to justify it, but they allowed Mandalorians to expand their territory, build their forces and industry, and entrench their advantage. When the Republic did enter the war, it wasn’t because the Republic leadership had made a strategic decision, or even a moral one; it was because some corrupt politicians organised bribes to fast-track Taris into the Republic because it was under threat and they wanted to protect their business holdings there. The Jedi Council was also tangled up in the culture of corruption; Lucien Draay was given a seat on the Council even though he’d been accused of planning and assisting the murder of four Padawans because of his powerful family connections.

The Old Republic was more an aristocratic republic than a democratic one. Alderaan, Onderon, the Empress Teta system – they were all monarchies during this period, not democracies. If aristocrats could hold power through right of blood and plutocrats through wealth, then why shouldn’t Revan lead the Galactic Republic by right of merit and conquest?

Revan was secretive, but at least some of the other Revanchist Sith knew about the shadowy threat – the True Sith Empire. If the Republic was going to need to fight another war against an even greater enemy, surely it would need better leadership. Leadership like Revan.

#Meanwhile in a Galaxy Far Far Away #kotor meta #Revanchist Jedi #Revanchist Sith #Revan #the Jedi Civil War #the Mandalorian Wars #the Battle of Malachor V #Darth Malak #The Jedi Exile #knights of the old republic #war crimes cw

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