#male revan | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

archonate-seorwen · 1 year

Text

In Medias Res: A KOTOR Fanfiction - Prologue

Hi everyone.

I am currently working on a French version of the complete KOTOR story. I've got little time and not always the energy, so I'm trying to cheer myself up by translating what little I've written so far.

This version will include some chapters that are published (not here) in another fanfic dedicated to the relationship between Revan and Bastila. But they will certainly be subject to some changes.

Seven other chapters are to be published soon.

I am not a native English speaker. So my apologies for the grammatical and syntactical errors.

Thanks a lot!

------

Chapter 1

« Corem. »

« Corem Galhor. »

« Bloody hell. Too loud »

« Corem Galhor, if you hear me, please do something. »

« Keep them quiet. »

« Switch on the spotlight, he must wake up. »

A sudden flash. Racing straight through my firmly sealed eyelids, crashing against my retinas, and thrusting like a sharp blade into my sleepy brain. Oh, what a dreadful pain.

« Eyelids are twitching, let's keep going. »

« Leave me alone. »

« Corem Galhor, you are waking up from a very deep sleep. It is only natural that you feel uneasy. Don't be afraid, it is only transitory. Please come back to us. »

That high-pitched voice was piercing my eardrums. Was it going to end? Did I have to comply with her requests for peace and quiet? It looked like there was no real choice. I gradually emerged from a dense darkness, from a dead sleep, from which I could not even judge my own degree of consciousness. Did all this belong to me? Was it all the result of a tremendous chaos cleverly orchestrated by my failing brain? How did I get here?

I opened my eyes. As soon as my lids allowed all the light to fall straight onto my cornea, I slammed them shut - the pain was too great.

« You' re doing well, Corem. Take your time. »

I was breathing heavily, even overwhelmingly. However, regardless of this uneasiness, I realised that I was capable of breathing. Never before had I worried about my ability to breathe. Yet, despite my condition, I felt an insidious sense of satisfaction knowing that I was alive. What the hell had happened? I had to get those damned eyes open and face the person who was hammering my still sleepy ears.

Brace yourself.

Again I tried to open my eyelids. That same sharp pain surged again, but I held on. I needed to let it happen. I had to make it believe that it would settle down without me fighting back. Eventually it would get bored and it would leave me.

This is precisely what had happened. After what seemed like tens of seconds, the pain had lessened until it had completely gone. At this point I could finally focus on what my eyes were able to see. Or should I say to lightly perceive. For endless minutes all I could see were blurred shapes moving across a large pool of light, the very same light that had been assaulting my pupils earlier. All of a sudden, one of the moving forms came closer to me. Then a new sensation arose which I had not anticipated; a pressure on my wrist. I was not sure whether the pressure was strong or not. Yet it was there. So difficult to measure.

« Well, you've come a long way. »

Two weeks had passed since I had woken up from what the doctors had loosely described as a "deep nap". Actually, it had been just an ordinary coma, which had perfectly ruined my psychic balance; or rather, it had finished ruining it. The first few days after I woke up had been most gruelling, and the hours had been punctuated by excruciating headaches, dizziness and recurrent vomiting. This certainly didn't help my body to recover very quickly. However, as time went on, I regained my strength and slowly returned to a fairly decent state of health.

Since my memory was failing me, I had to rely on what the doctors and other employees of the hospital were saying. I had apparently suffered a trivial but spectacular traffic collision, for which, moreover, I bore the responsibility. By the grace of the gods, I had not hurt anyone but myself.

All the questions that swarmed in my head, all the fragments of images that I had seen during my sleep had led me to believe that I was having an extraordinary life; everything was nebulous, and yet I had been able to feel myself powerful, dominant, outstanding. However, the reality of the current moment was harshly shaking me out of these illusions of an ordinary man who certainly dreamed of being much more than what he really was.

I was just an average guy. Recovering from a stupid traffic accident.

Over the course of the following days, memories began to return, my brain was cleaning up and, above all, tidying up. I remembered my years as a student at Bar'leth University, which had made me a very competent interpreter and translator. Then I remembered my most recent and most prestigious position in my short career, which had involved me with the royal family of Onderon. But what happened next, I was unsure of. As for my personal life, I couldn't remember anything about that either.

Was I a married man? Was I a father? Did I have a family? I had no memory of anything. I thought I must be a very lonely man. Those last few weeks of talking exclusively to the hospital staff only confirmed that feeling. Nobody else had ever visited me.

I was an average man. And a lonely man. In a military hospital of the capital city.

Why was I even in a military hospital, by the way? I was indeed working for the Republic, but most certainly not for the army. So why was I not in the care of a public medical institution?

« Hello Corem. »

Here she was. The woman in charge of the unit that had been looking after me since I arrived. It was her voice I had heard when I woke up from the coma. That voice, which had sounded so aggressive, so piercing, now felt sweet to me: a comforting feminine warmth.

I struggled to get up from my lying position so I could address the woman properly. I turned my head in her direction. She was a woman in her forties, with fine features, but it was obvious that her work had physically intruded on her tired face. Her hair, cut short at the nape of her neck, was greying in places. Despite the signs of age, probably amplified by an intense professional life, the woman possessed an undeniable presence. The charisma of intelligence and responsibility.

« Hello doctor. » I finally replied.

« How are you feeling this morning? » She asked concernedly.

Was it morning? I glanced out the window on the far side of the room. The blinds were partially drawn, and I could see that the area was bustling with life. The typical emulation of an early day in a busy city. The light was indeed that of a morning: refreshing.

« I'm fine. » I replied, catching the woman's eyes again.

« Good. Now, time for our daily tests, Corem. Then I' ll let you get cleaned up and dressed. A Navy officer wants to have a word with you. »

I frowned. A Navy officer? What in the world did he possibly have to do with me? What could I possibly be doing with these people? Was there any connection with the wreck I had caused? It didn't make any sense, the army wasn't needed for something that trivial. I knew that the Republican authorities might sue me for the damage I had inflicted, but I didn't see why the army had to be called...

« Okay. » I pronounced without disguising the perplexity in my voice.

The tests we carried out every morning were all pretty much the same: a few motor and cognitive checks, which always resulted in a very positive outcome. I was recovering with insolent simplicity. So effortlessly that I was expected to leave the hospital at the end of the current week.

Once I had got ready as instructed, I decided not to get back into bed, nor to sit in an armchair. I needed to stretch my legs. So, after switching on the terminal that would give me the latest news, I paced back and forth in the room until the frenetic images of the city through the window interrupted my little business. The sun, which bathed the planet in its characteristic white light, shimmered timidly over the huge towers facing me. Some of them were buildings belonging to the Ministry of the Army, hence the presence of the military hospital nearby. I was watching the city intently when the sound of the terminal I had switched on woke me from my trance.

« Suspicious movements in the peripheral regions of the Outer Rim and the Taris system have drawn the attention of Republic authorities. A portion of the fleet has been sent to these areas and is being... »

A particularly noisy convoy passing a few dozen metres from my window drowned out the sound of the terminal. A few seconds later, I could once again listen to the news:

« The Chancellery and the Jedi Order have renewed their agreement for effective military collaboration. Bastila Shan, credited with the Republic's recent victories, has been taken into safe custody after a Sith ambush attempted to capture her. The government has reported that Lord Malak is now searching for the Padawan, whose Battle Meditation power has caused major losses among Sith forces... »

We were at war. I remembered quite well the general plot that had brought the Republic to this precarious position: when Malak betrayed his Master, Revan, only a year before, and then took over the Sith Empire. I remembered that. At least, the way a student would remember a history class. I knew, but I felt like an outsider to all these events. Yet I must have experienced them in some way. My mission on Onderon had necessarily led me to these topics. But all this had no shape, it was only inconsistent knowledge. The very mention of Bastila Shan was completely foreign to me. Yet, listening to the news, I could understand the great importance of this woman in the present war. I could not have escaped her existence, that was impossible. But I couldn't remember her. I realised then how far from full recovery my brain was. And I became aware that it would take considerable time.

I heard a stuttering noise behind me. I turned and spotted a tall figure in the doorway of my room. I saw a tall, thin man, quite young, still holding the door handle in his hand. He was looking at me politely and with an attitude that suggested some sort of discomfort at the thought of bothering me.

« Please, come in. » I said reassuringly, as I moved to turn off the terminal I'd been listening to until then.

He shut the door behind him. I could get a better look at him: he was indeed rather young, tall and slender. He was wearing a formal military uniform, with dark trousers that were perfectly adjusted, and a slim-fitting jacket adorned with a few medals. Against the jacket he was holding a data pad with his left hand. This was most likely to be about me.

« Thank you Sir. » He just replied. He stared at me for a few short seconds, reached for the data pad with both hands and then really initiated the talk.

« Sir, we are sorry to ask for your services in the conditions that you are in at the moment. » He began very solemnly. « I have been sent to inform you that your next assignment is still effective. »

I frowned. My next assignment? Notified by a military man?

« As soon as you have completed your treatment here, you will be expected at the B96API Academy, the department you belong to. »

I shrugged. I slightly shook my head in great confusion. The man was staring at me with an incredulous face.

« Well, Sir... » I spoke uneasily before resuming more lively : « Thank you for sharing this with me, but, if I may, I'm not a military man, I don't understand what I have to do with this. »

The man then cast a wary glance at me. He switched on the data pad and took a quick look at it, then met my eyes again.

« Sir, are you Corem Galhor? »

« That's me, yes. »

« So, Mr Corem Galhor, I hereby reaffirm the message I gave you. Four months ago, you agreed to work with the Ministry of the Army, which assigned you to the Academy I mentioned. »

Once again I was caught in a state of total bewilderment. My mouth hung open and I kept staring at the man, speechless. He had certainly perceived that I was not trying to escape from any commitment, so he carried on pedagogically:

« I know Sir that you are not at your best. However, we have the results of all the tests you are regularly taking, clearly indicating your ability to fulfil your upcoming assignment. You are expected to report to the Academy in Sector B96 as soon as you leave this place. You will be given a brief training there, and then you will be sent to another area. »

« I hear what you are saying, but I am a translator. » I tried to explain.

« You were asked by the Army to serve as a translator. » The young man specified. « Anyone who joins the military has to complete a training programme. Don't worry, you will only be given basic knowledge. You will only be requested militarily if things are hopeless. »

I gave a cynical grin. What could I do? Obviously, I had signed up for the army before my accident. And it was quite clear that the Ministry was not going to let me go so easily. The Republic's situation was so critical that every individual could be useful for something. Even a translator. From what little I could remember of my own life, I had already undergone military training. The geopolitical context of Onderon was particularly tense; so much so that the Republic had considered the necessity of military training for some of its civil servants in the region. I was one of them. In fact, I proved to be not that bad at it, but that didn't mean I was a real professional soldier. Far from it.

I sighed.

« Very well. » I said dejectedly. « I'll report to the Academy as soon as I can leave the hospital. »

The soldier nodded, smiled soberly, and replied: « Excellent. I have a card for you in which you will find all the elements of your file. »

With that, the man fiddled with the data pad and extracted a tiny card, which he squeezed between his thumb and index finger and handed to me. I took a few steps and seized the small item, slipping it into a pocket of my trousers.

« Mr Galhor. » The soldier added warmly. « I wish you a prompt recovery. »

« Thank you, Sir. » I replied, with a nod of my head.

The man then left my room, and I was alone again. What had I got myself into? I sighed once more. Then I plunged my hand back into the pocket I had just left. I manipulated almost obsessively the tiny card that contained various data about me. I kept doing this for a few seconds. At last I resolved to access a first file. My hand, which had now taken hold of the card, emerged from the pocket and I walked over to the terminal. I inserted the object to get access to its contents. The first thing that was displayed was details about me and my future assignments:

-------

Name: Galhor | First name: Corem | Age: 33 | Planet of birth: Deralia

Personal status : Single, no children

Occupation : Translator, interpreter

Place of education : University of Bar'leth

Duration of studies: 5 years

-------

Military status: Recruit

Military training location: API Military Academy, Sector B96

Expected duration of training: 2 months

General Officer in Charge: Commander Bastila Shan

Restrictions: not specified - refer to the officer in charge

Last position: Interpreter, Onderon Republican Embassy | Duration: 4 months, 2 days

-------

Current duty station: not specified - refer to the officer in charge

Assigned by: not specified - refer to the officer in charge

Assignment validated by: not specified - refer to the officer in charge

General officer in charge of the agent: Commander Bastila Shan

Duration of assignment: not specified - refer to the responsible officer

-------

Height: 189 cm | Weight: 82 kg | Complexion: white/matte | Hair: dark brown/black | Eyes: brown

Sight: satisfactory hearing: satisfactory

Physical and physiological condition: satisfactory

Psychological and cognitive condition: satisfactory

Suffers from retrograde amnesia after a severe shock. However, not a problem with current and future assignments. Requires medical attention, however.

Psychological condition: satisfactory

-------

Tests conducted by the Coruscant Republican Military Academy - B96API.

Extraordinary session requested by Commander Bastila Shan, validated by Admiral Forn Dodonna.

The B96API Republican Military Academy judges the agent eligible for training.

Corem Galhor #894

-------

What to do with all this? These few pieces of information only strengthened my suspicion that I was living a very solitary life: no children, no companionship, absolutely nothing. What kind of person was I before this accident? Was I one of those people who took pleasure in their work and did not bother about their personal life? This bitter reality made me turn off the terminal. I had no desire to explore the void that was my life. However, as I proceeded to perform the required actions, a flash of lightning struck my thoughts. I reopened the file and locked my eyes on some specific lines.

« General officer in charge of the agent: Commander Bastila Shan »

Bastila Shan? What did this woman have to do with me? And how could I possibly fall under the responsibility of a Jedi? Or should I say a Padawan. Had they made her a Commander? Commander of what? Admittedly, I wasn't very well educated in the world of military affairs, but it felt rather risky to place anybody in such a position. And even if I knew that Bastila Shan was not just anybody, she was not a career soldier.

« Extraordinary session requested by Commander Bastila Shan, validated by Admiral Forn Dodonna »

Had I been directly appointed by these people? What was it about me that made them want me so badly that they had to convoke an extraordinary recruitment committee? True, my latest position had propelled me into the upper ranks of my job, but I failed to see how my talents could be so valuable to the war effort. Perhaps my ability to understand multiple languages was useful in a highly sensitive geopolitical context, as it was on Onderon. This didn't sound entirely irrelevant, but I couldn't help but feel very confused by the whole story.

I shouldn't torment myself unnecessarily. After all, I was just recovering from a months-long coma, and my memory had been badly damaged; in such circumstances, it was only natural not to be able to master all the ins and outs of the situation.

It would all come together in the end.

24 notes · View notes

ergomaria · 1 year

Text

Miles To Go Before I Sleep - Ch. 13

The Sith Emperor has finally been banished, at least for now, leaving Vann with one final task to ensure the safety of the Republic that he fought so hard to protect. He must train a new generation of Force users and prepare them for the inevitable moment when the Emperor returns, something that might not happen for centuries. But he is not alone and the task ahead is far from impossible. For the first time in decades, the Revanchist's future is bright, something that's almost overwhelming as he struggles to finally make peace with his past.

"I… I think that I'm done running off to save the Republic for a while. Or I'm at least done saving it from the Emperor. He'll be back, I'm sure of it, but it won't be for a long, long time. Not in my lifetime, anyway. Which, I guess means that it's finally over. Kriff. It's over…" The stunning reality of admitting this out loud caused Vann's voice to catch in his throat and he gasped, his entire body going limp as a warm rush of relief swept through him. He tried to say something, to crack a joke or make a flippant comment, but the only thing that came out was a thin, strangled sob.

Wetness spilled from the former mercenary's eyes and he burrowed his head into his partner's shoulder partially to hide his tears, but mostly because he needed someone else to physically support him as he finally accepted that yes, this entire ordeal was finally over. Even without the Force Carth seemed to sense this and he tightened his hold on the other man, pressing feather-light kisses against his temple while rubbing circles into his back.

"Hey, it's alright. Let it out." At this point, the captain was the only thing keeping Vann on his feet. "It is over. You won against that son of a kath hound and saved the rest of us in the process. I honestly can't begin to imagine what you're feeling right now, but I'm hoping that you can finally find the peace that you deserve."

Already flushed and sniffly, Vann hiccuped, "Do I really deserve it? After everything I've done?"

"Yes, undoubtedly so." A brilliant cascade of reassurance flowed through the Force bond, glowing brighter as Bastila embraced her mentor while also providing another body to lean on. Resting her head against his shoulder, she murmured, "In fact, I dare say that you're allowed to be happy."

"If I'm supposed to be so happy then why can't I stop crying?!"

"Because you're relieved, overwhelmed, and probably still in some pain." Laughing gently, Carth cupped his partner's cheek as he gazed down with pure affection, "You've spent over a decade working to save the Republic from a threat that nobody else knew how to confront or even sense and, after all that time and sacrifice, you finally succeeded. The Republic is safe thanks to you. You're a hero three times over."

Resisting the urge to wipe his nose with the back of his hand, Vann muttered, "I don't feel like a hero."

Bastila remained close, the bond still shimmering with her unwavering support. "I think that's the best sign that you truly are one."

"And as a hero, you've earned a rest. I know that you made some type of promise to train your students to guard the Republic for generations to come but…" Carth's tone was pleading. "I'd really like to see you take a break."

"Besides, your goal of training others should be quite attainable considering that you have at least one student willing to help you achieve it." Smiling gently, the former Sentinel murmured, "You've imparted a great deal of knowledge on me over the years and it would be my pleasure to share it with others. What you've decided to do isn't a burden, it's a gift to the galaxy. There are many more Force users out there who will benefit from your guidance and the wisdom that comes from your breadth of experience."

"But for kriff sake, don't think that you have to wake up tomorrow and throw everything you have into teaching. You can do other things, too. Preferably things that don't involve running off and picking a fight with an immortal Sith, or searching for an ancient weapon left by a lost empire, or rediscovering a forgotten dark side academy…"

Hastily interrupting the pilot, Bastila clarified, "I think what Carth is trying to say is that, for perhaps the first time in your life, you can choose whatever comes next."

That concept was almost too enormous for Vann to consider, especially given how physically and emotionally exhausted he was. Throughout his existence, there had always been a larger mission for him to complete or some greater goal for him to achieve. The Jedi, the war, his mercenary work, the Star Forge, the Sith… his responsibilities had been endless. But now the only thing before him was a single, long-term plan that was easily attainable with just a little help from his many friends. It wouldn't consume all of his waking moments, nor did he want it to. He had plenty of time to do whatever he pleased, which was an idea so staggering that he couldn't think about it without the possibilities overwhelming him.

But the immediate future was easy to envision. Breathing through the last of his sobs, Vann grinned weakly at Carth. "Right now I just want a hot bath. And maybe a nap in our bed with you next to me."

The pilot nodded approvingly. "Both good choices."

A sly idea entered the former mercenary's mind. "After that, I want to finish repairing H-Kay. I know one of you did something with the control cluster that I need to get him working again. Don't deny it!"

The cold buzz of guilt breezing through the Force was all the proof that Vann needed, even before the bond slammed shut on Bastila's end. Staring accusingly as his Padawan cautiously backed away, he was about to demand exactly what she'd done with the missing part when a pair of strong arms wrapped around his shoulders and carefully but purposefully pulled him away from Bastila. Despite the cracked ribs Carth had suffered during the crash, he was still more than capable of physically steering his partner through the hangar with surprisingly little effort.

Clearly determined to distract the other man, the captain cheerfully chirped, "So, how about that bath?"

Vann could easily escape the hold but the effort required was more energy than he felt like expending. So, he allowed himself to be half guided and half dragged towards the hangar exit all while continuing to glare at his apprentice over his shoulder. The effect was probably less ominous than he intended, though that didn't stop him from shouting, "I'm going to get my kriffing droid back. You both know that you can't stop me!"

Both Carth and Bastila sighed at this announcement, though they didn't deny its truth. By now even the Sith Emperor knew that there wasn't a sentient in the galaxy who could stop the Revanchist once he set his mind to something.

Read the whole chapter on AO3 or FF.net

#miles to go #not perfection but completeness #kotor 2 fanfic #kotor fanfic #meetra surik #the jedi exile #female exile #vann chis #male revan #carth x revan #revansi #star wars fanfiction #my wriitng

11 notes · View notes