Revan's Avenger | Teen Ink

Revan's Avenger

June 2, 2013
By Kinners GOLD, Haven City, California
Kinners GOLD, Haven City, California
19 articles 0 photos 17 comments

Favorite Quote:
"I'm a TEMP from CHISWICK!!"

-Donna


Despite myself, I halted in front of the durasteel doors.

The corpses that used to be guards lay scattered around behind me, including a Sith acolyte that had been particularly troublesome. Even now, the dumbfounded look on his face at being totalled by a thirteen-year-old punk would have brought a giggle from me if I bothered to turn around and look at it. But I knew that even after what I had done, what I had become, my ultimate challenge was hiding inside the room I so hesitantly faced. But how could I back out now? Even if I didn’t succeed, Dad would be halfway gone by the time I was through. He’d told me before I left that I had to do this for the galaxy--I told myself that I had to do this for him. He thought I was a light side champion, come to eradicate the Emperor’s darkness from the galaxy--I thought that this Emperor chump was a gob of rancor spit for all he’d done, and it was my job to avenge my dad. Or at least see him out of this alive.

So why wasn’t I busting in there? Since when does the almighty Kailaa Revan lose her nerve?

Since today, apparently.

I had to calm myself down if I was going into the fray. Even though a teenager stalking outside of his front door might creep the Emperor out a little, being a timid stalker wasn’t going to do the job. I found myself humming a comforting ditty passed down to me from my adventurous grandma. Somehow Mom had remembered the tune and words, even from before she was shipped off to the Jedi Order by her own mother. I found myself softly singing the words out loud,


“When you’re rife with devastation

There’s a simple explanation

You’re a toymaker’s creation

Trapped inside a crystal ball


And whichever way he tilts it

Know that we must be resilient

We won’t let them break our spirits

As we sing our silly song!”


I felt better immediately, despite the gruesome words that followed the first verse that I played in my head. I was even smiling, as if I were jamming at home instead of possibly facing my last moments. If I was a toy, then I was going to be the best, most expensive and coveted toy on the market. Which meant I wouldn’t be sharing the top-seller charts with anyone.

Using the force to slide open the doors, I walked in.

The throne room was a dark, spacious dome that wasn’t lighted very well. I honestly wasn’t sure why the dude needed so much space--he sat at the opposite end in a rather unextraordinary steel chair, the only way up to him being stairs leading up to a raised dais that was puny compared to the vast room. I allowed myself another chuckle, especially when I saw the stooped old man that occupied the chair. He was swaddled up in dark robes, but I could still tell that his strengths weren’t of the physical category. He was far too force-sensitive. If he were a bodybuilder too, that would be too overpowered for the universe to allow. I’m genre-savvy when it comes to these things, which is probably why I was and am puffed up with hubris.

“Hey, Meatbag!” I called, using HK-47’s term for humanoids for no other reason than to diss the guy. I began starting over, making sure my voice echoed in an obnoxiously unavoidable way. “Can you hear me from way over there? Knowing how ancient you are, I wouldn’t be surprised if I was making your hearing aids shrill in your ear!”

He didn’t reply, which was maddening. He kept staring at me as I continued. From here I couldn’t tell what color his eyes were, but I decided they were black or something, as all I knew was that they were dark. I kept walking, and more importantly, talking.

“Can you hear me now? Maybe you’re just deaf because your eardrums are rusty!”

“I can hear you, child,” he mused. I was close enough to throw a rock at him, now, and was about to when I realized that I didn’t have a rock. I scowled as I patted my pockets in vain, but then I realized that he’d actually responded. My expression brightened sarcastically.

“Oh good, you’re alive!” I chirped. “It wouldn’t be nearly as fun to kick around a corpse. Although I guess that’s what I’m doing anyway, isn’t it?”

“It is not so wise to challenge me,” he warned, voice still excruciatingly calm. I valiantly strove not to laugh in his face. Somehow I succeeded, and continued on with our banter.

“Good thing I’m not wise,” I retorted, becoming less funny and more angry as I went on. “Besides, if you weren’t such a butthead in the first place, I probably wouldn’t have bugged you until you came to me and started screwing around. But turns out I’ve got a bone to pick with you.”

“Explain.”

“You know Revan, that dude you were leeching on for the past decade? You’re gawking at his progeny. And she’s none too happy about that, either.”

I smirked at the surprise that flashed briefly in his eyes. Did I forget to mention they were as black as space with no stars? It was probably supposed to be spooky because he wasn’t all that scary otherwise--that or he actually had no soul. Either was believable. I made a mental note to get contacts like that, but red or green.

“Your father has made me stronger than ever,” he snarled, standing up. He was shorter than I expected, being a Dark Lord and all. “Even now he feeds me with his very essence. I can feel his power coursing through my veins even now. He has aided me in your utter annihilation.”

“Ha!” I crowed, startling him slightly. “Hilarious! You didn’t even notice! He’s long gone, sucker. What you feel is Meetra, Revan’s right hand woman. Such a loyal soul that she has aided me in your utter annihilation.”

If it was possible for him to get any paler, he did. I grinned, imagining myself with fangs and red eyes like the demon I was. But his reaction was less than terrified. “No matter. I defeated him, just as I shall fell you.”

“Come at me, bro,” I purred.

He came.

His first attempt to faze me was a barrage of Sith lightning, which I effortlessly stopped in its tracks with my bare palm. It gathered itself into a ball as it came, which I charged with my own hyperactive energy.

“Lightning? Really?” I drawled all the while. The purple orb of lightning had now turned a bright shade of scarlet with my fuel. “That trick’s even older than you!”

Along with my snappy retort, I launched the ball towards the Sith. As he raised his hand to create a barrier with the force, I snapped my fingers, and it exploded with my volatile force power. It blew him back, so that he fell backwards and hit himself in the back with his chair before flipping over it and slumping on the ground behind it. I laughed out loud and pointed at him like a jerk, which didn’t help his mood. I could sense him trying to get up, but before I could knock him down again, I was levitated into the air with an invisible talon at my neck. I yelped as I climbed higher and higher into the air, clawing at my throat in a pitiful attempt to get him off of me. I could just make him out several meters below me, his hand held up in a grasping motion while he calmly stood erect. Spots swam before my eyes, and my head began to throb from want of oxygen and blood. My selfish lobe demanded to know why I had attempted this in the first place, and I was about to respond when a vivid image flashed before my eyes.

I saw a masked figure, standing tall and proud, a red lightsaber in one hand and a green in the other. Though she wore Revan’s mask, I could tell it wasn’t my dad--it was a woman. She towered over all, defiantly roaring through time and shredding all in her path. Yet somewhere in her was a snickering punk, who respected nobody because she herself demanded it.

The masked lady was me. The force was showing me the future that the meatbag far below was denying me. I was Revan’s legacy, his saving grace--how could I die now?

So I simply decided not to die, but play possum. I stopped trying to breathe and let myself go limp.

He must’ve fallen for it, the blasted idiot--maybe the vision had sucked up my consciousness or force signature. Or he knew I was still barely alive and wanted to leech my power just as he did with Dad. Either way, the choking sensation vanished, and I greedily took in a gulp of air. But it also meant I wasn’t being held up anymore. I plummeted, though I did nothing for a while, as I knew it was a long fall and I relished the feel of air whipping my short black hair around my face. I allowed him to think that I was done--I don’t know if he ever fell for it, because I don’t believe it ever mattered.

Summoning the reserves of my strength in the Force, I swerved my body around so that I was in a dive. From the awe on his face, my idea must have been completely unexpected, and therefore brilliant. Gray-green mist materialized around me, appearing almost as quickly as I could shape it. I formed steel scales, a staggering wingspan, a long neck topped with a horned head. I imagined I was terrifying to any mortal, but even the Emperor staggered backwards from me. I beat my wings once to land, blowing back his hood to reveal a butt-ugly mug that I made a face at.

“And he’s handsome, too,” I thundered sarcastically. Apparently a longer neck meant deeper vocal chords, because a monstrous bass voice harmonized with my silly little alto. All the better to roar with, I suppose. “Ha! Not even a mother could love that face--she probably left you for the wolves because she knew what a soggy sack of entrails you’d end up being. That and you’re uglier than a womp rat’s wrong end.”

He was so stunned he couldn’t even speak. Looks like I was the first person to think of a Force Aura--it must’ve looked real. Arkanian Dragons, like the thing that I was replicating, are a rarity--and a living nightmare to some. I lowered my head to ram him with my nose, knocking him to the floor despite his valiant force-aided attempt to stay up. Unfortunately I didn’t manage to wipe that stupid look off of his face. Snapping my tail around like a whip, I raked the serrated tip along his face, cutting an angry red gash across his face. He hissed slightly in anger, which only served to make me throw my head back and laugh some more. That was before I was gobsmacked with the worst migraine tolerable by a sentient being.

I cried out in agony, which caused the room to rumble at my roar. I threw my head down and hid my face under my wings, revealing only my moaning muzzle. It was as if the Emperor himself were trying to crack open my head with an axe. My most painful memories flashed before my eyes; realizing that my twin Vaner’s birthday celebration was sent to Dad and I hadn’t been there...me and Mom arguing about whether or not I should go help Dad...being feared to the point of isolation for as long as I could remember...

But then there was one quote, half muffled as if from underwater. I’d never heard it in my life, but yet when I heard it I felt an instant stab of nostalgia and a flood of love for my father, Darth Revan.

I’ll be back. Keep yourself safe. I love you.

I love you, too, Dad. I thought, tears stinging my eyes within my fading aura. I’ll prove it.

I channeled my turmoil into an ear-shattering roar of vengeance. Though my eyes were shut, I felt an intense heat between my jaws that billowed like a tornado out towards the Emperor. He shrieked in terror, a noise worse than nails on a chalkboard, yet the sound of his fear of death gave me a surge of satisfaction. Opening my eyes, I beheld a white cone of fire engulfing him, though he struggled to protect himself with a force barrier. Giving him a dose of his own dark side medicine, I got closer, channeling all my hate, frustration, and sorrow into my inferno. The intensity of it seemed to tear apart the shield he’d thrown up, causing his screams to reach an octave no soprano would dream of. Stretching out a scorched hand, he clenched it into a fist, which slammed my jaws shut and extinguished my flamethrower. When the smoke cleared, he was a gasping, half-dead prune that had been flash-fried. Trying not to look at his even more horrendous face, I noticed that some embers still kindled in his robe, and with air from my wings I fed them. Abruptly they went out, no doubt courtesy of a dark side gimmick, but I had more tricks up my metaphorical sleeve. I kept ascending out of the Emperor’s range, this time of my own free will and more powerful than ever before.

“You are weak!” I snarled, my voice deafening in the echoey cavern. “A mere ant compared to the awesome power of Revan! You have tampered with a force far more powerful than you, and for it you shall perish! Look upon I, Darth Aryx, as I smite your existence out of the galaxy! Look upon your doom!”

With a mad power rush, I folded my wings in and dove straight for him. He surrounded himself with a writhing storm of dark side energy, but I heedlessly plunged into it, the torment of his power no longer relevant compared to my need for revenge. I drove my face into him, crushing his corpse into his throne, smashing metal and ripping flesh with fang and brute strength. With one final snap of my jaws, I snuffed out his dark light, destroying the scourge that would have stopped at nothing to shred everything I knew and loved.

I pulled myself back, my aura dissipating back into the force. I felt drained as I gazed upon all that remained of him--a black smudge in the steel, as if he had melted into dark side juice and seeped into the floor. He probably had, what with being no longer mortal. With all that power I had gone up against, I should’ve felt proud of my conquest.

Instead guilt gnawed at my core as I numbly turned and walked back towards the door. What was I when I killed the Emperor? The happy-go-lucky teenager with a sharp tongue and quick wit that all knew and loved? Knew and feared, I corrected myself bitterly as I exited through the doors, which opened at my mere thought. You are not loved--you are what killed the Emperor. You are raw power, and nothing shall stand in your way.

No...I moaned inwardly, my anguish pure and simple on my face. I was dimly aware of life forms around me withering at the passing of the Emperor. He’d fed his guards with a mad devotion to him, and now that he was gone, she had no idea what the effect would be on them. Other life forms, the rest of the Sith perhaps, were rapidly approaching from outside the citadel. That wasn’t me. I’m different.

You’re a monster.

It can’t be--

But it is. You’ve avoided reality too long, Kailaa Revan. It’s time you face it.

I stopped in my tracks. That last thought was something I’d never dream of saying, let alone tell myself. Something else was in my head--or someone. But I shook it off--I had other things to worry about.

A patrol of guards stood in front of me, all red clad and feeling shaken. They were led by a Sith--the red alien species, not the force-sensitive cult. He glared at me in slight wonder and frowned.

“You...what are you doing here?” he snapped, regaining his composure and scary face. I smiled sadly on the outside, reflecting my inner turmoil. “There is an Empirical emergency! Get out! Now!”

“I’ll just keep walking, thank you,” I replied, voice carrying more venom than I had intended. As I marched forward brazenly, some of the guards flinched, and I could tell the Sith was having second thoughts. “Also, I’m not sure why you’re so concerned. There’s nothing you can do about it.”

With that, I roughly brushed past him. I heard him call to his troops and run towards the throne room. I wondered if it would shatter their existences when they saw what remained of the Emperor--a forever accursed stain on the floor. I sighed and pulled up my comlink, dialing my dad to get him to pick me up. I wondered if he would be proud of what I did or disgusted at how I did it.


The author's comments:
To truly understand this, you'd have to have read the book Revan by Drew Karpyshyn. It's one of my favorites, and Revan is one of my favorite Sith Lords. The basic story is that Kailaa, Revan's daughter, has come to rescue her father and defeat the Emperor, a dark horror so corrupted he destroyed entire planets to fuel his power. The plot picks up at the Emperor's door, while Revan escapes and Kailaa is about to face the ultimate challenge of her power.

Disclaimer: The Gypsy Bard is copyright Sherclop Pones and Friendship is Witchcraft.

Similar Articles

JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This article has 1 comment.


Kinners GOLD said...
on Jun. 6 2013 at 7:11 pm
Kinners GOLD, Haven City, California
19 articles 0 photos 17 comments

Favorite Quote:
"I'm a TEMP from CHISWICK!!"

-Donna

Blargh, italic text doesn't work when submitting work. Ah, well. I'll have to deal with mental text in some other fashion.