Chapter 19: Echoes of Life

Note: Going to use a contraption from my other Star Wars story for this chapter.

When Anakin awoke there was to a soft soothing light trying to ease his pain. His eyes hazily opened to see a Jedi staring down at him, a palm on his forehead.

"Where...," he croaked out.

"Hush," said the Jedi, "You are in the Halls of Healing at the Jedi Temple."

Before he could ask anything else, a spike of pain ripped down the bond followed by a blood curdling scream from across the room. He looked over in alarm, seeing Meetra struggling and writhing on a bed with a team of Jedi Healers trying to restrain and help her. Anakin tried to get up and go over, but the Jedi attending him forced him to lay back down. He glanced wearily around, sighting Jedi Masters Windu and Yoda standing a few feet into the room near the door, watching the sight grimly.

One of the Jedi struggling with Meetra, a Mon Calamari, placed a hand on her head and then flinched away, gasping and falling to a knee, clutching her own head. "So much... so much pain. So many broken bonds, allowed to fester for so long. How is she still alive?"

"Bant, focus!" called one of the other Healers, "We'll do it together."

The Mon Calamari, Bant, shakily rose to her head and together, with several other Healers, placed their hands on Meetra's head. Pain flashed across each Jedi's faces, followed by a look that screamed that they had tasted something sour. Meetra's screaming weakened into a painful whimpering with sobs escaping her lips and tears staining her face, her writhing into a uncontrollable shaking.

The pain spiking down the bond weakened, enough for Anakin to realize that even the initial pain was far less than it had been back on the Hawk. Any hopes of it being because of the Jedi helping Meetra faded however when he realized it was Meetra trying to lock down their bond and keep the pain to herself.

"Meetra," he forced down the bond, "Let me help, let me bear some of the pain."

She shied away from him, trying to clamp down on the bond. Anakin closed his eyes, irritated, and focused down the thread connecting them. He paused at first; something was different. It wasn't a thread, it was like a huge tunnel now, bigger, deeper, bound them more tightly than ever before. Whats more, Meetra couldn't properly close it. In fact... he reached through and opened it. In hindsight, he should have braced himself, because he couldn't bite back the scream that escaped his lips from the sudden burst of mental anguish down the bond.

He hissed, his entire body feeling like it was burning alive. Like before, images of people long dead, that Meetra had once known, ripped through his mind. This time though, rather than being whole, each person looked like they were rotting, withering, screaming alongside him and Meetra. They begged for release, begged for severance, hundreds, perhaps over a thousand voices all echoing for salvation. Anakin felt like throwing up, the pain etched with sickly hues. It was wrong, this was all wrong...

There was an audible thump, and Anakin turned his head, sighting one of the Jedi healers having slumped to the floor near Meetra's bed, passed out. The other healers already looked absolutely exhausted despite only mere minutes passing, gutted, and like they were going to lose consciousness any second now. Dread filled him. There was to much pain, to much devastation that the Wound in the Force had covered and let rot for so long. They couldn't handle it.

Then a voice spoke, one that jolted Anakin, hearing it aloud instead of in his dreams. "Get her to the depths of the Temple."

Anakin's head whipped towards the door, going wide to see the ghost of his dreams, seeing Revan, leaning wearily on the door frame, awake but tired. The man eyed Windu. "I assume the Temple still has it's Force Suppressant Cells?"

Windu stiffened briefly. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised you are aware of them, but you want us to put her in one of them, why?"

"The Force is what is doing this at the moment," said Revan, pausing to take a breath, "Her Force Bonds to be precise. Take her away from the Force, or this will drive her insane or dark. Her threshold is high, but even this will surpass it eventually. If you use the cell to keep the Force suppressed around her, you can take her out in sessions, giving the healers a chance to recover and slowly heal the damage over time and..."

"YOU."

The room froze as a chill filled the air.

Anakin turned his head, looking at Meetra half sat up despite the healers trying to pull her back down, teeth gritted against the agony in her head, eyes half-mad with pain as she glared at Revan. "THIS IS YOUR FAULT!"

Revan's face didn't shift in the slightest. "I'm aware."

He shifted back to Windu. "Are you just going to stand there? I'm not in a condition to lift her myself. I can barely stand at the moment."

Windu nodded briefly, and turned to the few healers still up and trying to help Meetra. "Get her on a stretcher, now!"

Anakin didn't hesitate. "Take... take me there too."

Windu glanced over at him, eyes furrowed. "I was informed that she was the source of this pain, why would you..."

"I'm not leaving her all alone in some kriffing prison cell for who knows how long while she deals with this," Anakin said through gritted teeth.

Windu, thankfully, didn't argue further, merely moved to help Anakin stand as the Jedi loaded a writhing Meetra onto a stretcher and quickly moved out of the room and down the hallways. They moved into an elevator, and descended down into the Jedi Temple. Anakin put a hand on Meetra's shoulder as she shook, her teary eyes going in and out of painful focus, hisses, cries, or screams escaping her lips at random intervals as the pain of one festering bond flared after another. Finally, they arrived at a floor lined with force-field doors, moving for the closest one as the Jedi fiddled with the controls and then led them inside and...

Anakin's vision turned red with a different kind of pain as he suddenly lost the ability to feel the Force. He collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath and struggling with the horrible absence that seemed to fill his body. Soreness coated his insides, like his body was having to put in double the effort to function. He was sluggish, not able to move well, but Windu seemed to get this and helped move him towards the bed in the cell, sitting him against it.

Windu looked him over briefly. "If Jinn was right, then it would figure as the Chosen One that having the Force suppressed around you would be more... unpleasant than normal."

Anakin still didn't know what that meant, and still didn't really care. "Yeah... sure..."

He watched tiredly as the Jedi hefted Meetra out her stretcher and placed her on the bed. Her cries had shifted into soft whimpers and shaky breaths, writhing into twitching and light shaking as the aftershocks of being exposed to that pain. Anakin reached up and grabbed her hand, squeezing it. She squeezed back in acknowledgement, but did nothing else aside from lay there.

Windu cleared his throat. "We will have food and clothing delivered regularly, and will touch base with you once our healers are rested and recovered to plan a schedule for dealing with this."

The Jedi had a brief look of pity on his face as he looked over Meetra. "We will attempt to help you recover from this as best as we can. Though we would appreciate, at some point when you've had a chance to sleep, a briefing on what exactly happened."

"I can explain," said Revan from the doorway wearily, "Leave them to their rest."

Windu tilted his head. "How would you be aware of..."

"As I said, I'll explain," said Revan firmly, "Let them be."

Windu nodded slowly, eyeing Revan warily, before turning to Anakin. "We will leave a guard by the door at all times, if you require anything, ask."

Anakin waits until they leave the room before turning slowly, reaching over, and dragging Meetra closer to the edge of the bed, hugging her tightly, his face buried in her stomach, mumbling, "Msorry Meetra... M'sosorry..."

"Not your fault," she rasped back, hand shakily going through his hair, "Just... my own... and Revan's..."

Neither of them would move from their positions for a long, long time...

Revan sighed quietly.

Years of being physically comatose, spiritually bound to his body or dragged around the Universe by Meetra, and one of the first things he's treated to is an old friend screaming bloody murder at him. He suppose he shouldn't be surprised. He's had worse anyway. Malak dropping the truth on him when he was wearing the Jedi's fake persona ranked high up there, along with getting mentally dominated by a Sith Emperor. Not to mention half of the battles or genocides during the Mandalorian Wars. Yet... seeing the aftereffects of Malachor V, of what he ordered her to do, seeing the potential future and sending it as a vision to Skywalker over the years... it hits him worse than most of the other instances.

She trusted him, and he'd basically had her gut her own soul.

He watches Skywalker bury his face into Surik's stomach through the cell's force field door, both of them still struck with the aftereffects of pain, and turns away. They'd help eachother, his part to play was over, and should be involved as little as possible. If Meetra's outburst is any indication, underneath her control is an immense build up of anger and resentment towards him. She needed peace and quiet, not to hash out an old grievance. Though he was sure they'd have their moment eventually. He owed it to her.

He walks with the Jedi to the elevator, eyes briefly looking them over. He dismisses the healers outright, and focuses on the dark skinned humanoid first. Some type of human, the complexion similar to some he's seen before. Fairly strong in the Force. Serious and solemn as any Jedi is. Revan's awareness from Meetra's perspective varied from time to time, so he's not quite sure on the man's name. M-something. The little green gnome of Master Vandar's race he could recall being Yoda. Powerful in the Force, old, radiating patience and serenity. Walked along with a small stick, and set the pace the group moved at.

"Would you be able to stand before the Council after they've been gathered, or would you prefer a chance to rest?" inquired the human Jedi.

Revan gave a strained smile. "I don't particularly feel up for anything more than resting in a bed for the foreseeable future."

"Hmph, sleep for years he does, yet go back to sleep, he wants to," came Yoda's amused voice.

"A difference between being comatose, and being actually asleep," said Revan tiredly, "Not to mention finally not being Force Drained anymore."

He tried to not resent Meetra for that, he really did, but he's not sure on how successful he is on that matter. It wasn't as if she had been actively controlling it. It was a good thing she had not been actively controlling it, had no idea how to do so. Meetra knowing how to control her powers as a Wound would only have been a slightly better outcome than her succumbing to it. Or perhaps even worse. It was hard to tell, he'd rather not muse on the particular horrors of that possibility.

Yoda frowned. "Mmm. Curious I am, the source of this drain. Know that, do you?"

Revan sighed. "It's complicated. I can give you a brief rundown on the way back to my room in the halls of healing."

"I am also curious," said one of the healers, eyeing Revan, "How you are suddenly awake, right at the moment they came back, after years of being comatose ."

Revan gave a strained smile. "It's related, miss...?"

"Vokara Che, chief healer of the Jedi Temple."

Revan revised his earlier dismissal and pressed the Twi'Lek woman to memory. It was never a good idea to disrespect or get on the foul side of the healer who ran things. They could make one's life miserable. He could remember being confined to 'needed' bed-rest for a light injury once in his younger padawan years for running afoul the Dantooine one. There was nothing more boring than being held back from missions or training. Well, in his younger years anyway. The chance to rest was... a much needed break considering how hectic his life had been since he had first left the Enclave.

He took his time in considering how to tell them. He maintains a solid distrust of Jedi, council Jedi anyway, individual Jedi like Jolee or Bastila when she wasn't acting like she had a stick up her ass were okay. That trust of the Order not something he'll ever truly gain back, one does not ever forget that their mind was wiped (or attempted to be), even if he had been a Sith Lord at the time. Especially when the lie of his mind being 'broken' and being rebuilt being the 'only option' became more than apparent. The moment Meetra had returned his mask to him, he recovered everything.

He loved Bastila, he truly did, but he's not sure he could have ever forgave her if they had met again.

On the more calculated side though, he had to hand it to the Jedi, to take their destroyer and convert him into their savior, then continue to lie through their teeth to cover their asses.

He swallows down the brief pang of loss at the thought of his wife, and then his son, but he's had nothing to do in the past few years but come to terms with his loss and his past trapped in that state as he was. He was a Jedi, he was a Sith, and now... frankly... he's just tired man. He closes his eyes for a long moment, letting out a soft breath, before opening them and refocusing.

Brutal honesty it is. "Do any of you have an understanding of what a Wound in the Force is?"

The human's eyes furrow, but he doesn't respond, no recognition in his eyes. Yoda goes still, eyeing Revan warily.

The Healers all looks affronted, Master Che speaking for them, "It is, at its basic definition, a catastrophic event of mass death that damages the fabric of the Force around a location."

"An academic answer," says Revan mildly, "For when a Wound is centered in an area at least. But when it exists within a person, it is far more complicated, and far more dangerous."

"A person?" echoed Master Che, incredulous, "How could a person be a Wound in the Force?"

Revan doesn't answer for a long time, not until the elevator opens back to the ground floor, and he takes a stiff step out the door. "Look up the Battle of Malachor V, and you will have your answer. Meetra became a Wound, and it has haunted her ever since. I was... unwittingly connected and my power continually drained into her. I've watched as Meetra slowly started losing herself to the Wound, and then Skywalker..."

Revan shook his head. "I have no idea how the boy did what he did. He closed off the Wound for now, but it came at a cost."

"A cost?" asked Windu.

"You didn't feel it?" Revan asked, "How weaker he feels now? It's not temporary, he... I don't even know, put half of himself in her somehow?"

There is a shocked sound from Master Che. "He did what?!"

"Hmmm," mused Yoda as they walked, not seeming shocked, but solemn, "A great sacrifice that is."

Che harrumphed. "I'm going to need to take a much closer look at the boy when we bring them out of the cell for more healing. The both of them honestly. Treating Surik's festering bonds is going to be a struggle all unto it's own. Looking into whatever the boy did and any potential side effects is going to be another."

Revan gave a strained smile as they entered the Halls of Healing. "I wish you the best of luck then, Master Che. I, have a date with my bed."

Master Che gave him an appraising look before hooking an arm under his own. "You look like you need it."

"I'm fine," he bit out, "I can walk to my own..."

"You look like you are on the verge of passing out."

"I got down there and back just fine!"

"Because you are a stubborn nerf, don't think I didn't read up on you, Revan, I have all the notes your Enclave's healer took about you when you were a padawan."

Revan didn't hold back a groan. "That was four thousand years ago! How in the Force did any of that survive?!"

"We healers have our ways," said Master Che, non-committal.

"Which, brings up a curiosity," said Windu, "How exactly were you aware of anything that was happening while you were comatose?"

The group came to a stop outside the room Revan had been 'comatose' in for the last few years. "Because I wasn't. My soul had the unfortunate issue of being dragged around the Galaxy bound to Meetra, and bouncing back to hover around my body."

He steps into the door way, and gives Windu an haggard look. "Trust me, it was unpleasant."

He doesn't pay attention to their reactions, turning into his room and making for the bed. He waves a hand and uses the Force to dim the lights, which makes him wince and his vision blur a bit. Far to early to be using the Force against after just coming off being perpetually drained. He faintly hears one of the Jedi at the doorway mutter about frivolous uses of the Force but doesn't give a damn. He lays on the bed, and for the first time since he came forward in time, since his soul was dislocated from his body, he actually slept.

Darth Plagueis sat on his throne at the top of a spire in Geonosis, staring up out a large window into the night's sky, eyes furrowed in thought, probing the Force for answers. Something had drastically changed, sending ripples through the Force that distorted all his own visions of the future. It was not exactly an unwelcome change, as the future had been in a sense, bleak. It had all hinged on whether or not they could kill Skywalker and Surik, if not, the Jedi Exile would succumb to her condition and become a devouring beast worse than Darth Nihilus.

Something had warped that requirement for the future.

He could still faintly feel that ending as a possibility, but the chances for it had been greatly diminished.

There was a soft pattering of feet entering the room; Darth Sibyl (a name that was a sort of private joke for Plagueis since the younger Sith didn't apparently know a Sibyl tended to be a woman) was a soft-spoken and shadowy Sith. Formerly Jedi Master Sifo-Dyas, he had taken to his new role rather well in Plagueis's opinion. He clung to the darkness, hiding himself so well that even Plagueis had trouble locating the man when he wanted to be alone. Of course that was something Plagueis desired, Sibyl was the New Sith Order's ace in the hole. No one was to know of his existence outside of their Order, to know of the Dark Seer of the Sith, Lord of Foresight.

"What has changed?" asked Plagueis bluntly.

"The Exile and Skywalker," answered the younger Sith, "From what it can scry or pry from the Force, the boy somehow masked the Wound in the Force within the Exile. At a cost however."

Plagueis pressed a button on his chair and slowly had it turn to face Darth Sibyl. "Oh?"

"Can you not feel it from here?" asked Sibyl carefully, "How diminished the boy is?"

Plagueis frowned. "I was assuming whatever had happened had temporarily drained the boy."

"No, Skywalker is... weakened," said Sibyl, "His potential cut in half."

Plagueis blinked, his only visible reaction. "Half?"

Sibyl nodded. "Transferred to the Exile."

Plagueis stared at Sibyl, mind slowly connecting the dots in his head from his own experiments with Midiclorian manipulation. "The only way to defeat death of that kind, is with life."

The younger Sith tilted his head, waiting for him to continue.

Plagueis slowly grinned. "I wonder if the boy realizes just what he did. That he has an aptitude for Midiclorian Manipulation. He must have transferred half of his life-force, his Midiclorians, to the Exile."

Sibyl's eyebrows raised. "I did not think such a thing were possible."

"Anything is possible within the Force," chided Plagueis before scoffing, "I thought that was a creed taught by the Jedi?"

A wry smile crossed Sibyl's lips, tilting his head in acknowledgement. "I suppose it is."

Plagueis slowly shook his head. "The Jedi... so weak in imagination and creativity. They haven't a clue of the true strength of the Force, especially in regards to my specialty. So many Jedi that I have experimented on refuse to believe my power, even when I can destroy their Midiclorian's before their very eyes."

He watched as Sibyl's expression carefully went blank. Ah... the young Sith still had troubles adapting to every aspect of being a Sith.

"I was under the impression that had stopped, per your agreement with Qui-Gon," said Sibyl in a careful tone.

"It did," waved off Plagueis irritably, "I was talking about past experiments."

He smiled savagely at Sibyl. "It was so easy to make Jedi disappear, and the Jedi Council barely investigated if a half-way believable excuse was given. Did you know, Sibyl, that there used to be an underground Darksider fighting ring that we would pitch captured Jedi into?"

Sibyl scowled. "I did not."

"And that's only the beginning of the Jedi's carelessness with their own," said Plagueis, hungering for the flickers of turmoil in the turned Jedi.

Oh how he had enjoyed breaking the Jedi of their illusions about their oh so grand order. Surprisingly, even if the man was not a Sith, Qui-Gon had been the easiest to finally convert to their new alliance, easier than Dooku, than Tyrannus. Once pointed out how the Sith had been running circles around the Jedi for the last thousand years, how they had steadily weakened the Republic and the Jedi, it was laughably easy to get him to agree.

That and the fact that by simply limiting the money given to Jedi Acquisitions from the Senate through a bill introduced so many years ago, they had cut the numbers of the Jedi Order in half over the course of time. The Order was roughly ten-thousand strong. It should be double that, easily. But through that bill, and so many other hidden strikes over the last millennium, the Order was crippled, and they didn't even know it.

Qui-Gon, frankly, had pitched a fit.

But that was gleeful memories for another time; he shifted his focus. "Sibyl, what have you seen with this change?"

Sibyl slowly walked forward, drawing his hood up, and stood next to Plagueis, staring up into the night's sky. "I've seen much, Lord Plagueis. There are so many new potential futures that it had been... difficult... to grasp at what leads to which outcome."

He turned his hooded face to Plagueis. "But make no mistake, while there are many players in the Great Game between you and Sidious, it is the fates of the Exile and Skywalker that will still determine that outcome for the rest of the Galaxy. Whether it be damnation, salvation, or somewhere in-between."

Plagueis narrowed his eyes. "Still them?"

Sibyl nodded. "Yes, but... there are other players now than there were before. Revan is no longer out of the equation, and has awoken. Aside from yourself, Sidious, Skywalker, and the Exile, he is perhaps the next greatest influence."

Plagueis's eyes sharpened. "And how does that change things? Can he be brought to our cause?"

Sibyl slowly shook his head. "From what I've seen? Not without alienating the Exile and Skywalker. They are who we should focus on."

Plagueis was caught offguard. "Them?"

Sibyl's lips slowly parted into a toothy grin. "Yes, them, you may want to rescind Ventress's study and preparation to assassinate the Exile. Surik will be of great use to our Order if she can be brought into the fold, or at least persuaded to join Jinn's new Jedi Order."

"Hmm... she is powerful," mused Plagueis.

Sibyl shook her head. "It is not her martial prowess or tactical skills that should be our focus."

"Then what is?" asked Plagueis, "What have you seen?"

"You," said Sibyl, "I've seen a vision of you explaining to our Order that the Exile and her bonding ability will be our salvation."

Plagueis stared at him blankly for a moment. "How?"

Sibyl shook his head. "I know naught, I was... interrupted mid-vision when you summoned me here."

Plagueis closed his eyes, irritated. "I see."

He did not ask for anymore on that vision. Not because he wasn't curious, but because he ought to figure it out himself. He could not afford to become complacent, as he did with Sidious, as the Jedi had over the last thousand years. Yet... what use would a bonding ability be for the Sith Order? Force Bonds had their uses, but were mostly a Jedi thing outside of a master/apprentice and parasite bond. Hmm...

It was something to dwell on, he dismissed Sibyl with a wave of his hand, and pressed a button to slowly turn his chair around to stair out into the night sky...

Darth Sidious taps his fingers idly on his desk in the Senate building. It takes an immense amount of willpower to not comm Kenobi and try to wrangle out of him if there is anything going on in the Jedi Temple at the moment. It would make Kenobi suspicious of him, the Jedi trusted him, but he wasn't stupid, that kind of coincidence would be alarming and could undo so much of Sidious's efforts on the boy. Something massive had happened, to upend every single future he had foreseen up until this point. It had happened elsewhere, but the source of the ripples surging through the Force was now on Coruscant.

It was the strangest thing as well. The source of it, now closer, felt vaguely familiar. The Skywalker boy? Yes, him, the boy he had met several years ago for those brief moments. Yet the oddity of it was, that for a brief time it felt like there were two of him. At least, until it had cut away not long ago. Perplexing, and something that demanded an answer. There had already been so much on the line, so much in the works, without yet another disruption to his plans.

But he was patient.

He would bide his time.

He would pry at the future again (when he had time away from these insufferable chancellor duties).

He would give Kenobi time to figure out what was going on on his own, the chances of him immediately knowing were after all small.

He would, in all good nature, inquire how the Jedi had been the next time they met, if anything exciting or new had happened at the temple or with the Jedi.

He would gather information, and he would adjust as he always did.

He would come out on top.

And the Galaxy would be his...

Review Response:

Guest 105: It's a bit daunting, I agree. To try to do this kind of crossover justice, to balance out legends & Prequel together will be a difficult thing once the Clone Wars begin.

Turtlefish: I've answered it several times, HK47 will eventually end up in the story, but not for a little while.

Keldor: Hmm. A Wound in Time's version of Abeloth probably wont live up to her Legends counterpart (I didn't own those books, but wasn't she a 9 book threat or something?). She will have a purpose though, that she will.

Phantasys: lol. Yeah, Anakin kinda Vader'd himself. Though, its more like transplanted himself tbh. Covered the Wound with half his soul/force potential/midiclorians/however you want to look at it.

Thehappyvampire: There will be few that can properly match/challenge Meetra or Revan, but they do exist. The first time Meetra and Sidious properly meet is going to be rough, that much I will spoil.

Cute Gallifreyan: Thanks. The Wound will have one more major purpose/impact during Mortis, but until then, its dealt with. Mmm, see what Revan said for his tired reactions. He'll get more indepth at some point, but he needs a nap.

Tahkaullus01: Nah, as Phantasys said, Anakin kinda Vader'd himself.

Dolansosar: Wall of text crits me for over 9000. Space it out, these are rough to read. There will be no Stare Forge/Foundry in this.

Diaspared: It's not going to be a full Revan/others and abandon Meetra & Anakin. They will still pop up in the next arc, but they are in cooldown/recovery mode at the moment. Revan is also not going to fully take over the story, he's going to have a large focus in the upcoming section, but once the Clone Wars hits, it'll be split a bit.

John7Chris: Thanks, I liek me some horror. :D

To everyone else: Thanks for the comments, glad you all enjoy.