2299/Rancor

Rancor
Date of Scene:	22 May 2015
Location:	Faraway Galaxy <FG>
Synopsis:	In her continued investigation of 'Blackout,' Lowri Revan-Shan is led to Cloud City, Bespin, to speak with a former pilot of the Black Eight Squadron.
Cast of Characters:	414, 428
Tinyplot:	Resolution

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Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
Sixty thousand kilometers over the "surface" of Bespin floats a marvel of engineering. Ostensibly a tibanna gas mine and outpost, the starport of Cloud City has also developed a booming tourism industry with its scenic vistas, casinos, hotels, and expensive restaurants on its upper levels.

That's not where Lowri Revan-Shan was sent to.

Shyre's intel led her to the bottom part of the saucer to an industrial cantina full of Ugnaught construction workers, illegal drinks, and haphazard assortments of pipes and tanks. The Vapour Room is a dingy, dirty place where people go to be forgotten.

Somewhere in this depressing cantina is the former Imperial pilot, Rancor, but nobody matching his average, mild description is here.

What she finds instead is a familiar figure.

Blackout sits at a table with her back to the door, a glass of Corellian whisky at hand. She wears the same rebel gear Revan met her in. Beside her is a grizzled older man with a scarred face and blank white eyes, grey hair neatly bound up. The Force is strong in him, and the lightsaber hilt on his shoulder suggests he's a Jedi. He's wearing combat armour, blazoned with the starbird of the Rebel Alliance.

While the man certainly looks the part of a rebel general, something's wrong about his companion. She doesn't feel right at all. Where Juno's mind is a quick thing of curiosity and fiery intensity, all the vitality is gone from this woman. Gone is that wit and presence, replaced with something heavier; a weight of grief so raw she seems to wear it like a shroud.

This is not Revan's quarry but she is very much identical in appearance.

"Blackout," however, seems not to notice the time-lost Jedi Knight's entry. She's busy drinking her whisky as she and the older Jedi discuss something, and there's an extremely fatalistic air about her as they do, as though she'd really rather be drinking herself into a stupor with that whisky.

Revan (414) has posed:
The Guardian's investigation had taken a decidedly unexpected turn once she had answered the distress call from the Vergesso Asteroid Belt.

Lowri naturally would have lent a hand – as would Kyle – but from the moment they had cleared the warpgate, both Jedi knew instantly that something was very wrong...and that the Force had led them there with a very specific purpose. There had been far too much for an assault on an otherwise insignificant base, as well as other small inconsistencies. And it wasn't long into the battle before the true purpose had been revealed: a test of loyalty for a single Sith Inquisitor and his pilot...the very pilot whose voice Lowri recognised as the same she was currently investigating.

'Blackout'...or rather, Special Captain Juno Eclipse.

It was likewise a wholly unexpected twist that Revan was now back on the trail of her investigation, albeit with a changed objective. She was no longer trailing a mysterious operative whom she suspected of being an Imperial officer working within the Confederate to deliver a report to the Union of a possible threat. For one, it had become clear enough that her Confederate status had just been spectacularly obliterated. Second, the nature of that report would now be on refugees from the Empire. Sometimes, Lowri wondered if the Force had a sense of humour and if it was as morbid as her own.

Once Juno and the Sith in question – Galen – had apparently escaped successfully though only by the skin of their proverbial teeth, it seemed the Force was leading Lowri back on that trail with many more answers now. But while she had gotten a front-row seat to the fallout, there was still the question of the pilot's past. It seemed an odd place to start, but for the moment, Juno was probably better off with Revan not knowing her location. At least, not yet. For now, it was time to meet with an old acquaintance of hers.

This time, the Jedi was dressed similarly but in what would no longer be recognisable to Imperials of that era: the worn, blaster-scored uniform of a Republic Commando of millennia past. Her near-white hair was swept up into the loose bun, though she hid her odd eye more carefully behind an eyepatch. A decent enough disguise, though it would hardly fool who she would run into in Rancor's place. In fact, the old Jedi would have felt her presence even before she set foot in the Vapour Room...just as she felt his.

Yet, the sight of his companion might have been an even greater shock, and the ripple of surprise from the Guardian was not something she would have been able to conceal at all.

What in the blazes was she doing here? But even as the question formed in her mind, she sensed that everything about 'Blackout' was wrong, and not simply Galen's notable absence. No, it was almost as if she was another woman entirely; everything she knew of Juno Eclipse could not be found in this grieving, bitter woman devoid of all hope, all joy. The spark of life which Revan had enjoyed sparring with verbally had been somehow extinguished.

And yet, it was her. Somehow.

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
The Jedi certainly notices the approach of his own kind. His head raises, mouth twisting into a frown at the sudden prickle of familiar energy within the Force, and then the surprise that registers. Apparently he doesn't deem it a threat, and lowers. His companion doesn't even seem to notice his sudden interest or disinterest, or maybe she doesn't feel inclined to ask, lowering her head a little and staring at her glass of whisky.

After a moment the older Jedi turns his head, as though he were looking at Revan through the corner of his eyes, if he were sighted. "I know you're there." His voice is gruff; impatient. "Come on out where we can see you, girl. This isn't the kind of place to be drawing too much attention to yourself..."

The old Jedi's companion lifts her head, and when she turns her head to regard who's standing there, there's no mistaking her features as those of Juno Eclipse. Yet they're a little different, too. There are deep shadows under her eyes, and there are lines of fatigue and strain that aren't present on the Juno that Revan knows.

There's also no recognition whatsoever.

"Have a seat." Even her voice sounds a little different; more haggard, fatalistic. "If you have some kind of business with us, I'd rather not attract too much attention about it. What do you want?"

Revan (414) has posed:
It was, Revan gathered, entirely possible that the blind old Jedi could see well enough through Force Sight – the innate gift that the naturally-sightless Miraluka race possessed. Though she was certain he was human, it was hardly unheard of for those who had been blinded later in life to hone that skill. Yet, in spite of that, he wasn't the reason why she was there.

Neither was the younger woman, however...Lowri was there to inquire about her, not expecting to encounter Juno herself. Or rather, apparently...a different version of the Imperial pilot. Oh, right. Multiverse, she reminded herself. Still, to have run across one of these multiversal alternate versions was disconcerting to say the least.
And then the old man confirmed that he was certainty not sightless, after all. Well, she had expected that, really.

The younger Jedi shifted, angling herself out of the way of the patrons who had been blocking her from view. She hadn't deliberately hid, simply stopped out of shock. She had been searching for Rancor, not the topic of discussion herself.

"Thanks," she murmured quietly, shifting her blaster rifle from her back to her side and pulling up a seat. "It's a bit of a long and very convoluted story," she began. "I was actually looking for a man by the name of Rancor. I wasn't expecting to see you here, 'Blackout.'"

The use of her name by a stranger would more than likely put her on high alert, but Lowri decided laying all her cards out on the table would probably be the most likely way to get the answers she was seeking.

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
The gruff older Jedi gestures towards the nearest empty seat, which happens to be the only other empty seat at the table, forming a rough triangle. For her part, Juno takes a drink from her whisky, grimacing a little at the familiar burn.

"Sit down." Her voice is quiet, but there's an unmistakable edge to it that suggests she's cautious and untrusting. If anything, this bitter and grieving woman is even more paranoid than her counterpart. "I haven't heard that name in a very long time. Who are you? How did you hear about Rancor? And why do you know my callsign? The last thing we need is an intelligence leak," she adds, in a tone of frustration; it carries with it an edge of despair. "This is the absolute worst time to have to deal with something like that—"

Kota lays a hand over hers, giving it a reassuring pat. "It's alright. I think she's a friend. Drinks are on me," he adds, with a significant glance to Revan. Likely he's figured out that she's a Jedi, or at least a Force-sensitive, and probably decided she isn't an immediate threat. She didn't come busting in with red lightsabers, so...

"If General Kota thinks you're worth listening to, then I'm willing to hear what you have to say." Juno shakes her head, blue eyes settling on Revan and narrowing. "I want to know. How do you know Rancor? It's been a very long time since I've heard that name, but if you're looking for him, Rancor's dead. He was caught trying to flee Malastare, and he got a blaster bolt to the back for his trouble."

She looks up to Revan, calm, although that bitter, acrid edge of mourning still hangs over her like a shroud. "What do you want to know?"

Revan (414) has posed:
The pale-haired Jedi took the indicated empty seat, resting her elbows on the table and interlacing her fingers as she studied the pair. It was turning out to be something of a mixed bag in terms of possible outcomes. "As you've probably figured out, I'm like you," she replied to Kota, careful not to admit she was a Jedi out loud lest someone was eavesdropping. The man was nobody's fool; that was more than enough for him she was fairly certain. Her name, on the other hand, should be safe enough even if someone were listening in. "Thank you for hearing me out. My name is Lowri Shan. I'm what you could call an ally."

But this particular Blackout's recollection of events threw the Guardian off. "That's...strange," she mused, frowning her confusion. "Really strange. I was pointed in his direction here by Berkelium Shyre back on Malastare..."

She groaned softly, then sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Oh, right. Multiverse," she muttered. "It's getting harder to keep track of all these variances."

Lowri leaned back into her chair, folding her arms over her chest. "I'm not really sure where to start, truth be told," she admitted. "The fact is that I was looking for Rancor to find out information on you. Or rather, a version of you. And this version is neck-deep in trouble."

Revan shook her head. "But first, I suppose I need to know about your past with the Black Eights."

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
"I figured as much." Kota's admission is a little gruff. "It's the only reason I'm not calling for my squad right now. So, if you wanted to talk about something with us, Shan, then start talking. It's not smart to be out in the open for too long at a time. It'd be a pity to find an ally, only to lose them."

"Berkelium Shyre." There's a faint smile from the woman, although it's much more wan, like a ghost of its usual self. The expression seems somehow foreign on her weary and careworn face. "The Repairman. He's been good to our friends, and good to me. There isn't much I wouldn't do for him. If you come from Shyre, then I'm definitely willing to tell you whatever you need to know."

"Shyre does good work," Kota agrees. "If you're coming on his recommendation, I'm willing to listen, too."

She pauses, just long enough to take a drink of her whisky, setting the glass aside. "Information? I'll see what I can do to help. I swear I'm never going to get used to this 'multiverse,'" she sighs, reaching up and kneading at her forehead. "It makes my head hurt. I'll do what I can to help you, though. What sort of trouble did 'I' get into? And what do you suppose my past with the Black Eights has to do with it?"

Shrugging, she shakes her head and rests her arms on the table, looking down at the grain of the metal table. "I captained the Black Eight Squadron during the Bombing of Callos. There's honestly not a lot to tell about that story. We were to saturation bomb the planet's major population centres. I was hoping to mitigate some of that damage, and so I asked Vader if there were something else I could do. He ordered me to disable Callos' planetary reactor."

"I... thought there would be failsafes, once the reactor reached a certain threshold of damage." Her shoulders hunch; Kota rests a grandfatherly arm over her shoulder. "There weren't, and I wonder to this day if Vader knew that. The damage caused the reactor to spew pollutants into the atmosphere and Callos' water systems. There was so much volume that they set off runaway chain reactions. There would be no saving that planet; in six months, it was reduced to sterile dirt and toxic sludge. Nobody survived."

Her eyes narrow, grief and anger flaring around her through the Force. "That's the convenient thing about an example. They're more effective when no one survives, and you have something like a dead planet to point to. Dead planets, ruined cities, political examples. One man, one city, one planet... it makes no difference to them." The grief spears through that anger, sharp as durasteel. "They took everything from me. They took him. Now, no matter what it takes, I'm going to do the same to them. There will be no more Callos, no more sacrifices."

Revan (414) has posed:
For all his gruff nature, Lowri could tell that she liked Kota: he reminded her quite a bit of another grizzled crotchety old Jedi. Unfortunately, Jolee Bindo's gruff mannerisms had produced something of an opposite effect of what he'd intended on the young Jedi. To say nothing of his unorthodox wisdom being one reason she hadn't fallen back to the Dark Side.

Revan resisted the nearly-overwhelming temptation towards her usual banter; he was right and there were things which needed doing.

She had internally measured whether it was going to be a good idea to namedrop; Malstare might have been an out-of-the-way backwater with ridiculous gravity, but she was somewhat reluctant to put Shyre any more in harm's way than he already was. It was clear enough the Repairman was more than capable of looking after himself, but this latest Empire seemed fond of overkill. On the other hand, he was in a whole other instance of the galaxy. "Not the one you know, I'd imagine," she cautioned. "Apparently, the data he gave me got scrambled somehow and ended up here."

What went unsaid but likely that would catch the short but significant pause was, Rather, the Force led me here for a reason. She might not have been the most obedient of Jedi, but she had absolute faith in the wisdom of the Force.

"An impressive mess," Revan commented dryly. "I'll explain everything as best I can."

But first, she listened carefully to the past the former Imperial related. She wasn't entirely certain how much of it was shared with her counterpart, but the pale-haired suspected that at least a good portion of it was applicable. Particularly the events of Callos.

She didn't say anything. She didn't need to. Revan has been, sometime in her forgotten past as a Dark Lord, responsible for some very similar acts. Her single visible eye reflected neither pity nor disgust, but recognition...the sort of recognition that one who had committed similar atrocities would reveal. "Or...if one is deliberately purging entire factions of an army not necessarily loyal to the commander," she mused quietly.

The reference to an unnamed him wasn't missed. She wasn't certain whether knowledge that another Galen still lived would necessarily help...but if anything, Juno deserved to know. "You're being hunted for...well, basically for failing a loyalty test. Of course, it proved that you're a person with morality, but needless to say your superiors weren't pleased. Then again, they seemed to have been expecting your refusal, so it wasn't really a test, but a set-up. They might have been anticipating this for a while."

In other words, despite her stellar service record, Juno Eclipse had shown hints of a dangerous sense of right and wrong. Light Side tendencies.

"What happened," Revan continued, taking care to omit references to the Empire specifically, though Juno would certainly understand the inferences, "Was that your friend was sent to wipe out a base filled with civilians."

Kota would doubtless catch the flash of anger from her, an unJedi-like display of emotion, potentially dangerous but carefully mitigated, as if she had already seen what unchecked wrath would lead to. "Your counterpart found that out, and the both of you refused the order. That was when your superiors started turning their fire on your ship. You escaped, but now the both of you have bounties on your heads."

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
"I'm to understand that sometimes happens in the multiverse." The alternate Juno's response is weary. "We've had to make adjustments to most of the fleet's navcomputers because of it. The rest of the galaxy has, too, I'm sure. Sometimes wires get crossed."

She looks down to her glass of whisky, and while she doesn't quite scowl, the inclination to do so is obvious.

The Force. She's had her fill of that for a lifetime; all mysticism and knowing smiles and self-satisfaction from the Jedi who've spoken to her about it. It's where her beloved went, some place where she can't follow. Oh, she'd thought about it, but ultimately she decided the best way to honour him was to fight the fight that he'd begun... but some days, some bitterly lonely nights, she was tempted to follow him.

Thus far, she has not.

She leans her elbows on the greasy table, lacing fingers in front of herself, resting her chin over laced fingers.

"So it wasn't too unlike mine. The details are different, but the motivations are the same. A setup, a betrayal, and a decision to turn away from the Empire..." Juno's eyes slip out of focus, thoughtful. "I suppose there are certain universal tendencies and statistical commonalities."

Kota's head tilts at Revan's flash of anger, but he doesn't comment, merely watching her with those dead eyes for a long moment.

"I'm glad to see some things are the same, then. So I decided I wanted nothing to do with that, did I?" Her expression turns a little more haggard, though, when Revan mentions her 'friend.'

Those blue eyes lower to fix on Revan, unblinking; the direct stare only seems to underscore the shadows under her eyes. "He's wasn't my friend." Her eyes almost seem to bore into the Jedi's own mismatched eyes, possessing for a moment all the focus of a cutting laser. "He wasn't just my friend. He was so much more than that. I loved him. I—" Her voice breaks. "I loved him so much. We would have fought the Empire together if it meant standing by one another." Again, a fresh upwelling of that grief, so raw and so agonising that even Kota shifts his weight as though uncomfortable. Slowly, so slowly, it incorporates a new note – a rage so hot, so raw, that once again Kota shifts uncomfortably beside her, acutely aware of the emotions roiling from her. "And they took him from me."

"I'll help you," she says, low, and absolutely confident. For just an instant a spark of the old Juno is back; professional and businesslike and absolutely determined... but it slips, fading back into that grief and misery. "Tell me what you need to know."

Revan (414) has posed:
Lowri's own thoughts about the Force would likely best be described as conflicted. It was a mystery that she eagerly explored, a guiding hand...but exploitation by some tended to leave a bitter taste in her mouth. On the one hand, she couldn't entirely resent that she had been robbed of whatever her past had been, to say nothing of the frustration of not being able to learn what she was supposed to be searching for. And yet, had it not been for that very intervention by the Council, she would have remained on that path, never to gain what she had.

And that was, she suspected, something this Juno had lost.

"To say nothing of time differentiations," the Guardian murmured. "Imagine finding yourself nearly several thousand years into the future. So...there's a lot of details that are common knowledge for you that I'm only just learning."

Her expression turned uncharacteristically grim. "And this Empire is only the latest one."

Juno's reaction to the mention of Galen confirmed her suspicions. It seemed to Lowri that the other woman became even more haunted and haggard...and in some ways, she could see herself in that. What would have become of her had she lost Carth? That very unJedi-like fear was, if she was honest with herself, the reason she had left him behind. But not what she might become...the mere thought of losing him was unbearable, the one thing in the universe she couldn't endure. Revan would still have her sense of justice as she always had, her need to protect those who could not protect themselves...but she would probably seem as this Juno did now. Hollow, bitter, angry, grieving...performing actions almost by rote rather than motivation.

And though the older Jedi would likely pick up some surface reactionary emotions as her thoughts had drifted to her own love that she had left behind, this version of Juno would just as easily see that flicker of emotion in the other woman's eye. She hadn't lost the man she loved, leaving him behind to protect him...but she knew what it would be like to lose him.

Unlike most Jedi, strong emotions had never made Revan baulk. She enjoyed feelings of happiness even if they came from others, and found herself doing everything she could to alleviate pain and sorrow. Anger, however, was the most difficult one to cope with. It so easily led to the Dark Side if not controlled, and part of the reason was that anger fed off anger. She could be easily swayed to righteous wrath if the cause was just, feeding off the emotions of those wronged. Her fall had been gradual, but it truly began not when she defied the Council, but when she touched the Mandalorian mask and saw through the eyes of that woman as she paid the ultimate price for defying an act of genocide.

And yet, for the Juno Eclipse here, it was all she had. It had been all Carth had for the same reason.

Lowri shifted in her chair. Her motivations now were no longer so straightforward as they had been before Vergesso. "Tell me about your career in the Black Eights."

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
"Time. I hadn't thought about that." Some of that fire and spirit seem to bleed out of the pilot, as though Juno were remembering just where she is, and what her circumstances are. "Yes, that must be disorienting, too. I'll do my best to answer any questions you might have, but I can't make any promises." Her blue eyes flick to the entrance. "Our time here is limited."

Although Kota's head tilts almost imperceptibly, he doesn't make a move to address Revan or speak up. He seems content to remain rather more towards the background, perhaps offering Juno a sort of grandfatherly moral support. Maybe he's the only friend she's had since she lost her own Galen, although it's possible they both knew him. Kota doesn't seem a stranger to the subject of the former Sith.

Slender fingers tighten around the glass. Again there comes that quiet spike of crackling, low-grade anger when the Black Eights are mentioned. It fades only through clear effort of will.

"The Black Eight Squadron. Vader's personal attack dogs in TIE fighters. They're his go-to solution when he needs dirty work done, and done quickly and unquestioningly. I captained it during the Bombing of Callos. Who knows what it was that the Callosians had really done; those missives and records may never see the light of day, not really." Juno drums her fingers on the table, thoughtful. "All I know is that we were ordered to bomb the planet. Saturation bombing, with the full support of Imperial assets, but we – the Black Eights – were there first. There wasn't much left by the time we were finished."

"We hit them so hard. Vader gave me a choice when I asked for clemency. I could take out the planetary reactor, and so I chose that option. Surely one target would be less devastating than pressing the planetary assault. I fired on the reactor... but I had no way to know it wouldn't have any failsafes." Juno drains her whisky glass, setting it aside with a bang and signalling for another. "It didn't. The toxins poisoned the planet."

"I commed a friend in the environmental sciences after that. He confirmed what I'd suspected. Callos was gone, and it was never going to come back after that. An entire biosphere, wiped out. The population of an entire planet, wiped out." She shakes her head, glaring down at the table. "That was my career in the Black Eights. I was deemed to lack the ruthlessness desired in commanding officers of the Black Eights. That's when I was transferred to the Rogue Shadow."

She looks up to Revan, and the force of personality around her – the raw anger and hatred for the Empire, so thinly-veiled and barely-leashed, seems to crackle around her.

"That's all there is to tell about it. It was a short tenure. Command was passed on to Redline, one of the other Black Eight pilots, and probably the coldest, cruelest, and least considerate being I've ever flown with. He was one of three of twelve who protested when I ordered us to withdraw from Callos. He wanted to 'stay and finish the job.' He was a psychopath." Juno barks a laugh; the sound is ugly. "There was nothing to finish."

She takes the glass brought to the table, and drains half of it before setting it down again. "I was glad to move on, to tell you the truth, although at the time I think I was too shell-shocked to fully comprehend the transfer. I used to consider the Black Eights the high point of my career. Now I'm ashamed I ever had anything to do with it."

Revan (414) has posed:
As much as she would have otherwise tried to grill Kota over his own observations and experiences, Juno was right. Revan didn't have much time, at least if they didn't want to attract unwanted attention. She suspected the two didn't particularly care what ultimately happened to them, though they might be dissatisfied without being able to take the Empire down with them if they died or were captured here. For her part, though, the Guardian did.

It was with considerable willpower that she focused on what she needed to know to help the other Juno, her new ally through strange and surprising circumstances. Remaining silent as Juno related what was perhaps the turning point where Lowri was reasonably sure the Empire began watching her more closely, the bombing of Callos. And it disturbed her on some level to know that as Darth Revan, she would have probably done the same.

Though her past had been largely erased, the Prodigal Knight was still the same person at the core, and it wasn't terribly difficult to imagine what she might have thought, how she would have formed strategies and changing them as necessary in the midst of battle. She wouldn't have made an example of a planet like Callos, and it was only her apprentice, Darth Malak, who had used Telos as a loyalty test for Admiral Karath. It was difficult to tell if the bile she felt over that would have been her sense of justice and anger over the loss of life, or if her once-friend had thrown a hydrospanner into her plans.

And she was certain that the Dark Lord she had been had certainly formed them; Telos had been one of the jewels of the Republic, with abundant natural resources and industry. No, what Darth Revan had likely planned was a blockade to cut off supply lines to the Republic, then bombard the populace with propaganda whispering that the Republic had been draining all their resources while leaving Telos with scraps of its own hard work. Eventually, Telos would have joined the Sith Empire – her Empire – while depriving the Republic of vital resources. And someone such as Juno would have been a simple matter. Make her loyal to the Dark Lord, either through ensuring Galen's absolute loyalty, or else breaking that bond. Even without that ruthless streak, she would have been very useful.

That Lowri could easily see this line of reasoning nearly terrified her, so easily she could potentially slip back into the Dark Side.

"Perhaps that was a test, as well," she mused, more to herself than to her two companions. Shaking her head slightly as if to say 'never mind', Lowri fell silent again, listening. When she did speak, her mind was once again on tactics. She had no platitudes which wouldn't have comforted anyway...no, the only thing that she could probably do at this point was promise to hit the Empire hard in a vulnerable spot. "Is this Redline still leading them? I suppose this would be a better question for your other self, but if they're still active, I imagine they've already been assigned to the hunt."

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
"Redline's dead, at least the last time I'd heard of him. He crashed his TIE fighter into an X-wing, and I'm sure his little black heart was happy over the mutually-assured destruction." Juno drains the rest of her whisky, signalling for her last refill. "Good for him. I hope he's somewhere toasty."

She leans back in her chair, grimacing, as though letting the alcohol burn its way down. "As to that, I can at least offer you conjecture: He's probably been tasked to the hunt. I imagine the Black Eights are searching, although depending on the circumstances, the seizure may fall to an elite ground unit. They know my – my counterpart's – capabilities. They're probably going to try to catch me – her – on the ground. It'll be much easier for them."

"If he's still alive, though..." Again, that rage leaches out of her, and that overwhelming grief bubbles up from wherever it had lain. It's never far from reach, with her; losing Galen, it seems, really was a crippling blow to her. If she were a Jedi, there's no doubt the Dark Side would have found her by now; and given how bleak and anguished her default state seems to be, she might well have embraced it with open arms. "If he's still alive, there's no telling."

Those haggard blue eyes snap to Revan. "Don't let them take me. Her. I couldn't put him through that." She takes a breath, laying her palms flat on the table. "For as long as I'd known him, he was balanced on the knife's edge between the Dark Side and the Light Side: And I am the only thing keeping him from falling." Her voice dips into soft tones; almost dangerously soft. "If anything happens to me, Vader wins. The Emperor wins."

All that resolve crumples. "Don't let either of them go through that. We... we found each other. Somehow, against all odds, and we kept each other alive. We found solace in one another, even when things seemed at their worst. We need each other."

"I don't know who you are. I don't know what your stake is in helping. But please, do me one favour." Again, that raw grief; she looks to Revan, blue eyes pleading. "Please. Save them. Don't let the Empire tear us apart again. If she's anything like me... if he's anything like the Galen I loved... they won't be able to bear that wound. It will break them."

Revan (414) has posed:
A part of Lowri sincerely hoped the other version of Redline was dead as well, though such thoughts were a tad on the dangerous side. Outmanoeuvring him would be a cakewalk compared to Elites, but not before he wreaked a lot of havoc and took out innocent people in the process. She couldn't afford to make assumptions, especially with what was at stake. Her personal need to save others aside, the Force had hinted to her that those two had a purpose. And inexplicably, it seemed to be tied to hers. How that could happen across universes and differing versions of galaxies across time overwhelmed even the most flexible of minds, and the Guardian decided that this was one particular mystery of the Force she would contemplate much later once the galaxy – galaxies – had been properly saved.

Revan didn't particularly enjoy the pain that came with bringing Galen up again, particularly when the small flame within the former Imperial seemed to gutter and dwindle at the thought of her lost love. Yet, it was necessary. "So...Sith, then. Regular troops won't be enough, judging by his strength. The Imperials would have to augment special forces with Force adepts, especially once they've gathered allies." That was sure what Juno would be up to once she and Galen were rested and had the Rogue Shadow repaired. And she imagined she could make the Empire's lives a little more miserable by buying the pair some time, given some intelligence and a handful of key targets.

The pale-haired Jedi leaned forward slightly and rested her elbows on the table, her fingers interlaced and concealing the makings of what could only be a predatory smile. Plans were already forming in her head; she would have to persuade some trustworthy Union volunteers and divide them up into small strike teams, but there were more than a few ways to make Juno and Galen's hunters have a Very Bad Day.

Revan allowed her hands to fall away, her face resuming a more neutral expression. Her exposed eye, however, reflected a personal understanding of that attachment. It might have seemed an odd thing for a Jedi to make a point of not reciting the Code, platitudes, or warnings of the dangers of attachments for those strong in the Force. "'Love will save you, not condemn you,'" she found herself repeating, though she hadn't realised she had spoken the words out loud until she had already said them. "Ah...sorry. Someone said that once to me, long ago."

Almost as a distraction, she lifted the glass of whiskey which had been brought to her, downing it in a single shot with a twitch of her face. She was probably going to pay for that later. "I'll do what I can," she assured Juno. "And they won't have to go it alone. I have reason to believe they already have allies sheltering them...the Empire will have to go through them first, and they have teeth like firaxan sharks. Figuratively and literally."

Revan needed to save the galaxy. She needed to find that elusive, mysterious threat. She had to help defend vulnerable worlds and populations, and lend a hand to the Union as a provisional ally. The lives of two people – even if one was strong in the Force – should not have mattered in the grand scheme of things. Yet to one former Dark Lord of the Sith, it mattered. It mattered very much.

"You have my word. They'll come out of this alive."

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
The pilot's eyes lower to her empty glass, staring at the object without truly seeing it. Although her expression doesn't change, the roil of emotion that surrounds her makes it plain to anyone Force-sensitive the despair, the grief; as though she were hearing news of Galen's death all over again.

It's been over a year, but she still can't let go, can she?

The gruff old Jedi reaches over, laying a heavy hand on her shoulder; giving it a grandfatherly pat, even as her posture seems to crumple. "That's an interesting way to look at things," Kota comments, eyeing Revan with those blank white eyes. Although he looks just past her, there's no mistaking that his attention is on her fully, and accurate in a way his physical eyes are not. "Throw enough spice into the pot, you'll ruin the entire dish. Is that really wise? Love can condemn as easily as it can save," Kota points out, "as some of our mutual friends found out." The Jedi, that is. But even he doesn't seem to have any faith in his own argument, letting out a sigh. "But I guess I have to agree with you... this time."

He doesn't quite look at Juno, but the implication is clear. While she might be emotional wreckage at this point in her life, even he can remember a time when she wasn't. "When he came to me, right here in this place, a few years ago, looking for me... among all the dark thoughts in his mind, through the middle of that miasma, I sensed one bright, beautiful thing that he'd held on to even at the end," he explains, to Revan. As he does, Juno's head drops; her laced fingers tighten over themselves so badly the knuckles blanch white.

"Her." Kota shakes his head, frowning unhappily. "He held onto her, even in the end, even when he had a choice to embrace the Dark Side or die on his feet."

"He died on his feet," Juno whispers. "He sacrificed himself to save us. To save himself. He wouldn't go back to Vader; wouldn't let himself become Vader's—Vader's slave again."

"Good. They're going to need allies. The boy has teeth, if he's anything like the one I knew, but this isn't a fight they can win by themselves. You don't fight the Empire and win single-handedly," the older Jedi mutters, self-consciously dropping his voice. "No one does... but know this." Kota leans forward and drops his voice to a gravelly mutter, meant for Revan's ears alone. "He might act like the Dark Side's still in his veins, but if he's like the boy I knew, it's not. If she's alive, he still has that spark, that beautiful thing... and I think you're right. That love will save him."

"I can't help you in this. None of us can. We're already pinned down by the Empire, and our hands are tied... but we can wish you luck. Maybe the galaxy that boy and that Juno come from won't end up as bad as ours." Kota snorts. "Our time's almost up. We've got to get back to the ship, soon."

Having mastered herself, Juno looks up, levelling red-rimmed, unspeakably weary eyes on Revan; lucid in spite of her grief and exhaustion. "Thank you." The words are soft, so soft that they might be missed. "For my – her – sake. She doesn't know it, but if you can keep him safe... you'll save her, too. If she's like me, if she's still the same..." Juno's voice drops. "She won't be able to weather that storm, if anything happens to him."

Revan (414) has posed:
Perhaps someone else would have told Juno she needed to move on, but Lowri very well knew that it wasn't so simple. When someone had found the love that she or Juno had, life took on entire nuances and meaning it never had before, and you couldn't just return to the way things had been should it be lost. It could hold a person back from the Dark Side, or redeem them, and its loss could drive someone down that very path. Uncontrolled passions could drive a Force sensitive to destroy worlds, but it could act as the bind to tame the darker tendencies. The one thing that would have kept her from falling even if she lost Carth would be his memory, that it would grieve him in turn to know she had fallen again.

Platitudes about how this Galen had rejoined the Force were of little comfort, in spite of what the Jedi sometimes seemed to think were enough. When one couldn't see their loved ones, talk to them beyond a fleeting presence or hold them or even merely have that loved one by side, it was of little comfort. Particularly for those who couldn't feel the Force at all.

"I imagine he'd knock me out for calling him a Master, but...that was the wisest advice my last Master gave me. Even if I lost..." she stopped herself before getting too far into personal territory. "Well, let's just say that no matter what happens, I couldn't go back even if I wanted to." Just as Juno couldn't. As dead as she felt, in some ways it had been a mercy in comparison to the ven slower death she would have suffered in the Empire, never having known Galen.

There was something familiar about their recounting of how the Galen of this universe died, as if there was something important she was forgetting. But likely, such a detail wouldn't be particularly useful to either the Juno in front of her now or the Juno and Galen she was currently trying to help. Lowri would have to think on it later.

"And sometimes, it seems that the price for that is too high," she observed. "I'm not in a position to make a call like that. But when he made his choice, he was thinking of your freedom, too. Don't let it be futile."

It wasn't the best of encouragement, but somehow she felt that the Galen who had rejoined the Force would be none too happy if she didn't make the effort. Not to mention that she owed it to this broken Juno to try.

"No...no, it's not," Revan agreed, leaning back and resting her left elbow on the back of her chair. "I sense they're safe for the moment, but we're simply going to have to make the Empire realise it's not worth the effort." How she was going to pull that off, Revan didn't say. Not to mention that she was attempting much the same thing, but that wasn't important to their own battle, either.

"It wasn't difficult to figure out," Lowri admitted to Kota quietly. "Not after that battle. If he needs some convincing, well...I can be persuasive when it's necessary." Once more, the details weren't relevant.

Revan shook her head. "You've already helped me plenty," she assured the two with a tight smile. "Focus on your fight. That's all anyone could ask."

Sensing that her time with them was at its end, the Guardian stood. "They won't have to," was her final reassurance to Juno.

"Thanks for the drink," was her audible farewell to Kota, though as she turned, she murmured a certain take on the familiar phrase, barely audible. May the Force be with you. And through It, may he.

Even if Juno couldn't feel his presence, death didn't mean Galen would stop watching over her.

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
Draining her glass, Juno sets it aside and leaves a small, tidy lump of credits on the table's surface. For a moment she pushes them this way and that, gaze slanted down at them without really focusing on them. She finally shakes her head, standing up and turning to regard Revan with level, faded eyes; too lacking in spirit and zest to be the same Juno that the Jedi Knight knows. She's lost too much, and suffered too much for that.

But there is still the Rebellion. If she can't have him, she can continue the fight that he started. It's the best, and only way, she has of honouring his memory.

"Of course not." Juno eyes Revan, calculating and tired in the same breath. "I'm going to finish what he started. I can't be certain that's what he would have wanted, but right now, that's all I have." Beside her, Kota gives a faint nod, as Juno continues, with a bleak little smile. "I'm glad to know her Galen also has that spark of the Light in him. Kota's right. Help them. By helping them, you'll help him save that spark, and it'll grow."

"Maybe the boy will start raising his own Rebellion," Kota comments, with a sour grin. "Maybe, with allies and support, he'll have a better go of it than ours did... but we've spent too much time here already. Maybe we'll see you again. Maybe we won't." His smile stays a little hard, but it carries with it a flicker of the Force. Force be with you, as well. And them.

Juno doesn't comment on that silent reassurance, but her eyes snap to Revan, staring for a moment in silence.

She finally shakes her head and turns her back, silently beckoning for Kota to follow; the two filing their way out of the Vapour Room in silence.