Who: Revan, NPC Mr. Ryan in flashback What: Revan contemplates her past in another world and the recent past in this When: Recently Where: Revan's apartment Ratings/Warnings: PG-13 for brief descriptions of violence and murder Status: Narrative; complete
Revan sat cross-legged on the floor of her room, eyes closed and forehead pressed against the mask that had shown up on her bed earlier.
"Cassus--wait! They're defeated! We don't have to do this!"
The voice of the original owner of the mask had echoed in her mind the moment she'd picked it up. She'd seen the vision next, the same vision she'd seen when she'd picked it up before in that other world. Pleas for mercy that fell on a heart of stone bent on genocide. And her own vow to wear the mask in honor of the fallen until she brought justice to all those who fell before the Mandalorian crusade.
And she'd kept that vow, yes. But she'd also kept the mask on after that; there had been more work to do.
Revan sighed and pulled the mask back to look at it. It felt like an old friend, just as the lightsaber hilt did. She ran a thumb over the mask's battle scars and let her mind drift to a...more recent moment, one from the world she lived in now.
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She'd found Ryan bleeding in a room off the main area she'd been sent to clean. She'd just stared at him for a moment until he realized someone was in the room with him and he began struggling to decide whether threatening or pleading was the best approach to take with his potential savior.
He'd looked rough. Someone had really worked him over; he'd clearly inspired quite a bit of rage in his attacker. Given the bloodstains and his struggles with movement, she'd guessed his knees had been a favored target. There likely wasn't much left of them to repair, if anyone wanted to try. His hands had received a good bit of smashing, too. And his face, but that was a given.
He'd had enough of his wits about him to look worried when Revan had shut the door behind them.
It had been so easy--shooting the lighting at him, watching him writhe in pain. She'd done it again, a little longer that time. After that, she had let him catch his breath for a moment. Just for a moment.
Then she'd reached out with the Force and lifted him by his neck. She'd watched the panic in his eyes as she began to squeeze. She'd held his gaze until there was nothing left of him looking back at her.
He was disposed of with the rest of his dead goons.
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Revan took a deep breath and shifted the mask from one hand to the other. She'd try it on later, along with the robe. It was a pity the lightsaber hadn't come with a crystal.
She stood up and stretched before setting the mask on her bedside table for the moment. This seemed a good time to practice what she remembered of lightsaber combat with the shinai she'd bought expressly for that purpose. The more she practiced, the more it felt like second nature.