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Old 04-21-2009, 09:58 AM   #1
Lord Spitfire
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Knights of the Old Republic II: Embers of Destruction

This is a fic that covers my representation of the Exile's journey throughout most of KotOR II. There are noticable differences to the game, as you'll soon find out, but I've modified it to present it to the audience - you guys - in a way I think that a book version of KotOR2 should.

Well . . . Enjoy!

Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic II: Embers of Destruction


Rahnaetian Thoralex Drendellian III stared out the huge window, gazing out at the wounded Citatel Station. He could see hundreds of repair teams scattered around, rebuilding the vast amount of damages.

He could see his reflection in the glass. He stared at it, studied it, observed it. It seemed silly, but he was starting to doubt that anything about him was the same. He saw the slightly long dark brown hair falling into his intense grey eyes. He could see the face that was aged and ravaged by emotional scars, yet still strikingly handsome. He observed the messy stubble that had grown all over his face.

Closing his eyes, he took in a deep breath, calming his mind as he immersed himself in the subtle currents of the force throughout the room. Physically, he was the same.

His trance was broken by the sound of a man walking through the door. Rahn turned around and noticed a Republic soldier. "Sir," started the soldier, "Admiral Onasi would like to see you in private."

Rahn blinked. "Did you just say Onasi?" After the soldier nodded, Rahn quickly replied, "Yes, I'd like to see him."

"Follow me, then."

They walked through the halls of Citadel Station, noticing the medics scrambling around to tend to the dying soldiers and civilians as fire teams raided the rooms, extinguishing any remaining flames. Signs of the battle were painfully evident.

Finally, they stopped at a heavily guarded room. Rahn walked inside, hearing the door close behind him. In front of him stood a man in his mid forties staring out the window. Not knowing what to do, Rahn simply said nothing.

The man broke the stillness in the air. "I never thought we'd meet," he said simply. "Eight years is a long time. It's good to see you again." His eyes - eyes that were wise intelligent, yet at the same time tired - met Rahn's.

Rahn nodded, walking towards him. "It's good to see you again too, Carth. You're right, it has been a while," he replied.

Carth sighed as he glanced out the window again. "It's good to be home. It's not the same, but with your efforts, I have hope it will be in the near future." He stared into the eyes of the Exile, his gaze stern with a fire in his eyes as he continued, "thank you for saving my home."

Rahn nodded. "I had been to Telos many times before the war. It deserved a much better fate." He gave a short laugh. "If things keep going like this, not even my homeworld is safe."

Carth gave a slight smile in return. "I doubt that Coruscant will be in danger in the near future, whatever trouble the galaxy's in."

There was an awkward silence as they both didn't know what to say next. Again, it was Carth who broke the silence. "I didn't think you'd come back to this part of the Galaxy."

Rahn scoffed, shaking his head. "We all went our ways after Malachor. You stayed to serve the Republic, and fought valiantly, only to have your homeworld destroyed. I returned to Coruscant a galactic hero, only to be exiled by the Order." He chuckled. "We both had a great time."

Carth shook his head. "There's more to it than that. I helped Revan kill Malak."

Rahn blinked. "What?"

Nodding, Carth continued, "Yes. It all started on a ship called the Endar Spire . . ." and throughout the next hour, Carth narrated the events of Revan's mission against Malak, including his Jedi training, finding the Star Maps, and the Star Forge.

Rahn nodded, thinking for a second as he took all the information in. He looked at Carth. Once again, there was an awkward silence. Rahn continued, "But I heard after that, he left known space. I mean, you were one of his closest friends. What do you know about that?"

Carth looked solemn. "He came to me the day he left. He told me that he was leaving. I was in shock of course, but after a while I took it all in, and we had our farewells. But, before he left, he gave me an order," said Carth softly, barely above a whisper. "He told me, 'Keep the Republic strong, Carth. The galaxy needs you now more than ever.' And then he left."

Rahn nodded. Anticipating what Carth was going to say next, he stopped him with a sad smile. "I know what you're going to ask me. That answer is no, I never met Revan in my exile. I never even knew what was going on, I was so dethatched."

Carth nodded, slightly disappointed. But he continued, "Did you know him well?" he asked Rahn.

The Exile was silent for a moment. There was a deep melancholy in his ravaged eyes as he said, "Yes. Yes I did. We were both taken into the Order as babies at about the same time, and we were close friends throughout our training on Coruscant. When the Order refused to join in the Mandalorian wars, I was the first person to join him and Malak." He took a deep breath. "And then of course was the war. You would understand. You were there.

You were there with me on Dxun, where countless of our brethren fell in battle, you were there with me on Serreco, where the glories cities were burned to the ground, on Endethron IV, where billions of innocents were butchered and cities burned to the ground. And then was Malachor. After what happened there, Revan and I . . . discussed things. He told me that he trusted me more than anyone to stick with him then, when it was most important. But I was done with fighting. I didn't even consider what he said. I just wanted peace. And so I ran. I've been running for eight years. But I'm not running anymore."

The Exile stared into the space. There was a silence, but this time it wasn't awkward. It felt right. Rahn looked at his reflection again. When he joined the war, he was 21 years old. Young, ambitious, wanting to be heroic. Now he was 31 years old. He physically still looked young and he had not lost his looks, but his eyes - his eyes were filled with horror, with a deep sadness. It reflected the deaths of trillions. The deaths he witnessed throughout the Mandalorian war.

He had aged more in the first two months of the war than in eight years of Exile.

"I guess it's time to tell you my story," started Rahn. "As you know, I blew up Peragus, came here, escaped. But I think you have a right to know how I got here." Carth nodded his head.

Rahn sighed. "Get comfortable. This might take a while. Anyways, it all started when we got to this planet's polar ice cap . . .

__________________________________________________ ______________

Okay, so there's the prologue. The first chapter should be up in a bit.

Lord Spitfire has requested a fanfic review for this thread.

Let there be rock!

"I hope they realize that music is music, and that music is not a scene, not a style. Music is a beautiful ****ing thing to listen to. It is not a thing to ****ing preach to others about, it's not a ****ing cause. It is what it is—and that's a beautiful artform." - Synyster Gates

Check out my Fanfic:
Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic II: Embers of Destruction
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