Chapter Text
When Malak had addressed her as Revan, she hadn’t even reacted at first. The accusation was too strange, too out there to register in her mind even if it hadn’t been a Sith Lord saying it. She wasn’t Revan just like she wasn’t a Wookie. She was just as much Lana Revel as she was human.
She could remember growing up poor but loved in the Outer Rim with a family that managed to strike that mythical balance between being caring and being smothering. She remembered her mother’s smile, the one where she crinkled her eyes, so she had known it was genuine. She remembered following her father around as he worked on droids, how he would give impromptu lessons and that’s where she learned to repair almost anything. She remembered wiping the grease on her brother’s face just to annoy him.
She remembered that as the Mandalorians crept closer to her planet, her parents had always sought to mellow her rash urge to stand up and fight. They had inspired her to find a way to help that wasn’t quite so full of danger.
That’s why she had become a smuggler. Even if she wasn’t on the front lines (and even if she dabbled in some not so strictly legal endeavors) when she was able to sneak past a blockade, she was able to see the hope that she gave people. Lana Revel was a scoundrel with a heart of mush.
Wasn’t she?
Even as her mind was overwhelmed with visions or memories, her mouth was busy asking questions and stalling for time. Distractions were one of the things she did best.
If the Sith really thought her to be his old master she could at least act the part. “Do you mean I'm really... your Master?”
She could feel herself break out into a feral grin from the sheer insanity of the situation and the adrenaline from taunting the Dark Lord of the Galaxy, or whatever he called himself. Her life had been nonstop chaos and curveballs since waking up from that coma on Taris. This might as well happen- why should anything be simple for once.
With everything else it made perfect sense that the Sith had mistaken her for his master. It was kind of poetic really, the idea that a nobody like her was a threat his Sithiness.
So she put up a front, channeled how a Dark Lord would act in this messed up situation.
Even as she tried to avoid looking at them, to avoid looking at him, she caught a glance between Bastila and Carth. The quick look of panic she saw them exchanged as she put on her little show was somehow more terrifying than the anything else that had happened that day.
Maybe she was still in that coma…
She pushed aside thoughts of anything else. She had to focus on her little psychological warfare game with Malak.
Somehow, she could tell from a twitch of an eye that her hit had landed “Once I served you, Revan, but I always knew that one day the title of Dark Lord would be mine! When the Jedi strike team boarded your vessel I saw my day had come. I ordered my own ships to fire on your bridge. I thought I could destroy all my enemies with a single glorious victory! I never dreamed the Jedi would take you alive from the wreckage.”
Kriff. He really was serious about this whole thing.
In a last ditch hope she gathered every ounce of her courage and looked to Bastila, asking if it were true.
Her heart clenched as she thought of family dinners and laughter, and she could only ask Bastila weakly “But the memories I have... where did they come from?”
It was not Bastila who replied.
“The Jedi Council didn't restore your wounded mind, Revan! They merely programmed it with a new identity - one loyal to the Republic! They tried to make you their slave!”
“We couldn't simply restore your true identity; Revan was too dangerous. But locked inside your mind was information the Republic needed: the secrets of the Star Forge. The Council created an identity for you: a soldier under my command. Your subconscious memories were supposed to lead me to the Star Forge; there was no other way to get the information.”
The smile and her mother’s eyes were gone.
Her father’s gray hair turned to ash.
Her brother’s grease-stained face melted into oblivion.
She wanted to laugh.
There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.
Yeah, that was a load of bantha crap.
She felt raw and exposed. She was surrounded by people who knew more about her than she did. She could only barely away hang on to the conversation even as she was leading it.
“You used me, Bastila! You're no better than the Sith!” she shouted through tears of anger (and if there was a more embarrassing situation than angry-crying in front of the Sith Lord who apparently used to be her apprentice- it wasn’t coming to mind).
“How can you say that? Malak nearly killed you, but the Jedi Council gave you another chance to live! They gave you a chance to redeem yourself by defeating the Sith!”
In that moment Revan or Lana or whoever inhabited her body was paralyzed by anger. She wanted to yell, she wanted to scream and shout- explain to Bastila that Revan is dead. That she is Lana- just Lana just some scoundrel whose lousy luck landed her smack dab in the middle of galactic war, and THIS WAS NOT HER FAULT!!
She hadn’t wanted to be here, when the Jedi had encouraged her to be trained, she had tried to say no and go off on her merry way but they hadn’t let her.
They hadn’t let her.
Before she could spiral any further or lash out at the people whom she had come to think of as her friends and confidants, Malak demanded attention be returned to him.
"A small part of me has always regretted betraying you from afar. I always knew there were some who would think I acted out of fear, that I did not want to face you. But now fate has given me a second chance to prove myself. Once I defeat you in combat no one will question my claim to the Sith throne; my triumph will be complete!”
Wrenched from her thoughts, she channeled all of the emotions that she felt but could not yet name into her challenge, “Triumph, Malak? You seem to forget that I'm still alive!”
And they were fighting. As their lightsabers clashed over and over again, as she could feel him trying to suck the life out of her, as she sent waves of the force crashing against him, she felt free. She hated to admit it because it must mean that everyone was right, but there was something almost familiar about fighting Malak. It was a dance that her muscles still remembered. She let the rhythm lead and she forced her mind clear. Focusing on the battle and letting the adrenaline flow through her, she could almost smile.
But she missed a step and Alek Malak had trapped her in a whirlwind.
Just as Lana (as Revan) as she could tell the Sith was about to gloat and indulge in a bout of overdramatics, Bastila burst in just in time to play the heroic Jedi, “I'll hold Malak off. You two get out of here! Find the Star Forge!”
And even in all her anger Lana fought with Carth to go back for her. Because Bastila was their friend. Because it was the right thing to do.
Because stupid self-sacrifice was something a Dark Lord of the Sith would never do.
As she yelled at Carth and cried the fight had left her. She could feel the exhaustion overtake her as they returned to the ship with a new distance between them. She could feel his occasional glances but she did not dare look up.
Smugglers are not known for their courage.
Getting back to the ship took forever, but she could not help but wish for more time.
She prayed to the force that no one would ask questions and she could just collapse and pretend for a little while that life was no different than it was two weeks ago.
Of course, the force was not that kind to her.
As soon as they were through threshold she and Carth were besieged by their friends allies.
Lana didn’t answer, didn’t even look up. She distantly heard Carth explain what had happened to Bastila. She could feel everyone’s eyes turn to her judging her.
So she spoke up weakly “We can't help Bastila - not unless we find the Star Forge first.”
It was the not the brave answer or the kind answer but it was the smart one. And whether she was a Jedi or a smuggler (or a Sith, a part of her whispered) she made the smart choices. It was how she survived.
That didn’t mean she wasn’t ashamed of it.
As she moved to walk away toward her bunk, Carth reeled on her with a voice full of venom and accusations, “Not so fast. We've got a bigger issue to deal with here. They deserve to know the truth about you. Do you want to tell them what Malak said, or should I?”
And suddenly all those emotions that she had been trying to repress, to deny, came spilling out at once. She turned on him with the anger she still felt toward Bastila and the Jedi, “I don't care what Malak said! I'm not Darth Revan, I'm Lana Revel!”
And for a beat she had finally gotten that silence she had craved since that confrontation with Malak.
For a moment, she wondered if maybe they had all been in on this great secret, if they too had known about the albatross around her neck that she had been so blind to. It was stupid and irrational but she was still reeling from the revelation. And she was so, so hurt.
“Revan? What... what are you talking about? Is this some kind of joke?” asked Mission, angel that she was.
A small part of her relaxed because finally, someone else had a sane reaction.
Unfortunately, Carth was not willing to let things lie, “No, it's no joke. The Jedi Council captured Revan and erased the Dark Lord's mind, programming in a new identity. Saul Karath told me on the Leviathan and Bastila confirmed it!”
Even Mission was sobered by Carth’s obvious passion, “You're Darth Revan? This is... this is big. Do you... do you remember anything about being the Dark Lord?”
She denied it. Part of it was hope these were all delusions resulting from torture. Part of it was from the Revan in her that told her that she could not trust anyone. Part of it was from Lana who knew now that she could not even trust herself.
Who was to say that those memories had been no more real than that of her family?
Carth, apparently.
In that moment, she cursed him for knowing her that well. “And so the lies begin” he narrowed his eyes at her “It was obvious you remembered something back there when Malak confronted you with the truth. It might have only been small pieces, but there was something there!”
As Mission and Carth argued, she suddenly remembered defending Jolee’s friend on Manaan. For a second she could see this all happening in the Selkath court.
She really did need to get some sleep.
She couldn’t take it any longer. “Blame the Jedi Council for this, Carth - not me!”
As he turned to her, Carth looked like he was very much willing to blame both the Jedi Council and her for being in his general vicinity. But she was not willing to let him have another go just yet.
“I didn’t ask for this! I didn’t ask to be a Jedi and I sure as hell didn’t ask to be a kriffing secret Sith Lord! My whole life is a lie! I am a lie.”
And that was true. Lana Revel was a lie and a myth and a broken promise as much to herself as anyone else.
As Mission and Zaalbar reassured her and got Carth to agree to a ceasefire, Lana could not help but to be glad that she had no tears left to cry. Even as she went to wash up, Carth’s parting words stayed with her.
“But can I trust you? Can any of us?”
The scary thing was she didn’t know.
Sleep eluded her.
Malak’s words echoed… why had the Jedi spared her?
If she really was Revan- and even if she didn’t want to admit it, she felt it in the force that it was true- then what possible reason was there to have spared the Dark Lord of the Sith. What Malak had said must have been true. She knew the Republic would never trust the Jedi Order again if this got out. She would not be received well in the galaxy, they would react… well, like Carth had.
Seeing the hate in his eyes hurt her so badly. She wished she didn’t care what he thought, but the truth was she couldn’t even blame him. She would’ve reacted the same way.
Her implanted memories had been of Neka. Where the Sith had taken over and then proceeded to destroy all life on the planet.
Everything was tainted. Everything she was- everything Lana was- it was all a lie. It was like she was thrust under cold water as she realized how her loving but not overtly touchy-feely family all fit in as much as possible under the Jedi Code.
The Jedi must’ve done that on purpose. To give her a reason to never, ever side with Malak even if he tried to turn her again. But she also wondered if maybe they Jedi weren’t also punishing her, a form of torture that didn’t break their code.
She and Carth had eventually come to bond over losing their entire families to the Sith. No wonder he hated her now. Lana Revel was not really a person, she was just some grotesque representation of the horror that she had wrought on him and so many others. Even when she wasn’t Revan, even when she wasn’t trying she managed to strike a blow where it hurt the most.
If she weren’t so angry, she would find it funny.
The Jedi had given her the perfect backstory to fall. And still the lies they had used to cover it up hurt even worse.
So as she closed her eyes and wondered again why the Jedi had spared her, she thought of Carth and Bastila and wished that they had not.