FicWad

Trial of the Flesh

Prelude to Escapist Termination

Author's Notes: I was going to write the final two chapters for Hyne Mass before coming back to this, but I can't bring myself to do it right now. I started off a chapter late at night. I saved it, but apparently Microsoft Word didn't get the message. I looked everywhere for it the next day. It wasn't in my fanfiction folder, wasn't in my backup folder, wasn't on my flash drive. The file has completely disappeared, so fuck it. I'm going back to my other stories now.

I took a look at the stories under the Revan/Mission pairing just prior to starting this. I must say, I'm a little disappointed. Not because mine is no longer the newest, but because they all sounded like self-inserts. Ididn't read them, I just went by the descriptions, but if anyone can vouch for them, I may be persuaded into taking a second look.

It has been a while since I uploaded the original Trial of the Flesh. Actually, it has been quite a while since I was able to write anything, unfortunately. Some have commented that the first installment ended abruptly. Well, I must admit that the ending was a little rushed. I will try to fix that here. I have the general plan for this series in mind. There will be probably three more installments after this one.

The purpose of this is to expand on the end of the previous entry, highlighting how Mission has changed as a character. There will be another rape scene in this one, but it will likely be the final lemon for the series. Plot-wise, this one won't go far. It will start off more or less where it ends.

Don't expect this to be as long as the last one. I don't have much happening here. It is a single act of three scenes, but maybe you'll be inclined to read it regardless.

Before I get into the story, I happened to stumble across aforum thread that someone apparently made after reading They Always End. Ithink they liked it for the most part. It is only one post and one reply, but if you're interested, simply google morbid333. It should be on the first page of results. That's how I found it... don't look at me like that. I am not pretentious! Well, maybe just a little... The website is 'darklordpotter,' if that helps at all. Let me just respond to a couple of points made. First, this is not FRevan/Mission, no. No offense to that pairing, but It's all I've seen. Iwanted to do something different. Homosexuality does not make /everything/better, more interesting, perhaps, but not necessarily better. Not in every case, anyway. I may do something along those lines at some point, but no promises. Secondly, I'm not sure what people have against my character's name, but Kerry is most certainly not a girl's name. To the one who said that, perhaps you were thinking of Carrie, or maybe Kira? I've never seen Kerry used to refer to a female before. Only males. Guitarist Kerry King, for instance, is not a woman. And if you think he is... I don't know. Perhaps you need a closer look. I mean, I don't want to oversimplify, but Women tend not to have bald heads and beards, no offense to any that do.

Those were some long notes... anyway, on with the story.

Disclaimer: All names, places, and characters belong to Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic belongs to Lucas Arts. The original plot of this story, as well as the original characters Kerry Crowly, Ria'sun and Dee'sun belong to me.

Summary: The deed had been done. Unfeeling,, restless, Mission lay awake in her bunk. She couldn't sleep, and she couldn't let this be. She couldn't live like this. She had to do something, anything. Mission. Warnings: Violence, rape.

XX

The rancid stench was foul, filling up the Twi'lek's pores, filling her nasal cavity and pouring down her throat, threatening to drown her with its intoxicating filth. Suffice it to say, the spilled entrails of a murdered Hutt did not present apleasant aroma.

/Mission/ Vao visibly cringed, resisting the urge to pinch her nose as she spoke. "Okay," she said in a level tone, "he's dead. Can we get out of here now?" The human beside her allowed himself the liberty of a smirk at the young alien's impatience.

"Eager to get back?" He asked.

"Not particularly, but the sooner we get to the ship, the sooner I can say goodbye to this planet for good."

"Fine, I'm done here. I got what I came for. What about you? I take it you've come to adecision?"

"I said Iwanted to leave the planet, didn't I? We all set out to save Bastila and defeat Malak. I'm still gonna keep that promise. We have the location of the Star Forge now. I'll stay with you until we destroy it, but that's it. Then we go our separate ways."

"That's very mature of you, Mission. However, it raises the question..."

"What?"

"Zaalbar has sworn a life-debt to me." Mission's eyes widened in realization of the fact. She knew where this was going. "He cannot go back on it. You only decided to tag along because of him. Will you now abandon him?"

"I..."

"After this is over, Zaalbar will remain by my side. What will you do?" Mission sighed, her head bowed. When she spoke, her tone was dead, dejected, defeated.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

The human stepped forward, leaving Mission to follow at her discretion. His footsteps rang forcefully in the silent chamber, echoing like explosions in the hull of astar cruiser. As he walked swiftly to the chamber's exit, a certain sight must have caught his eye, and smirking, he came to stop before the cowering yellow form. Mission quickly moved to join him. Looking down at the body, she knew only that she did not recognize this alien. She was probably one of the dancers.

"And which one is this?" Revan asked. Looking up at him, the dancer's brown eyes filled to the brim with fear, she spoke.

"R-r-ee'sun,"her voice tremored, choking on her own words.

"Ree... you have a choice to make."

"A choice?"

"Will you accompany me on my ship, or will your remains be buried here in the sand, lost for eternity?" Ree turned away, her eyes closed. For a long moment, the sun kissed Twi'lek was silent. Turning back to face her captor, she looked him in the eye, sincerity gracing her. She swallowed hard before opening her mouth to speak.

"I... I am yours, Master."

"A wise decision," Revan sneered.

"As if she had a choice. Another slave, Revan?" Mission asked, having crossed the large, dead chamber to stand close behind the human.

"She may be of use to me. One can never be too sure."

"I'll bet," Mission replied, noting the fact that the human didn't bother to deny her implication of him perceiving his comrades as servants. He truly saw them all as expendable. All of them. Any one of them could die and he wouldn't bat an eyelash. He wouldn't care. Even Bastila, who had sacrificed her very life for the mission. Revan seemed totally apathetic. Even with the coordinates to the Star Forge revealed, he seemed to be in no hurry.

Revan was more interested in acquiring financial wealth and physical gratification than saving the life of a companion, even one as important or powerful as Bastila, even one as close as those two had gotten over the course of the mission.

/Mission/ wouldn't voice these thoughts. She knew better than to bring this up here and now of all places, of all times.

Not another word was spoken, and quietly, silently, the trio made their way down the dimly lit corridors to the Palace entrance. There was nothing more to be said. There was nothing more to be done. Revan had what he'd come for. He'd received compensation for Motta's greed. And in her case, Mission had lost something she'd never get back. She'd lost a part of herself, a part of her being. Nothing could replace it, and without it, she would never be the same.

X

As she lay in the occupied bunk, she couldn't help the thoughts resurfacing. Revan had moved on. Bastila had risked her life to save them, so that they could get away, so that they could complete the mission.

Mission hadn't been there, but Carth had told them all about it. Malak would likely keep Bastila alive, but that didn't put the young Jedi out of danger. The risk of the dark side was closing in on her, just as it had closed in on Revan, as it had changed him, turned him into someone else. Turned him into a monster, aSith.

Revan /had/been affected by the loss at first. He had felt responsible. It was understandable. To find out that he was once the Lord of the Sith was so much to take in. But on top of that, to have Bastila thrust herself blade-first at the current dark lord as nothing more than a distraction... it was no wonder he'd shut himself away during the journey to Tatooine.

That was a long time ago. Months ago. Who knew what condition Bastila was now in? And Revan?What of him? Did he even care? He had moved on, like a grieving lover accepts and moves on from the death of their partner. Was Bastila dead to him? Was she dead to the universe? Was their bond still intact? Mission didn't know. The Aqua tinted Twi'lek hadn't even the faintest of an idea.

Tensing her muscles, the girl placed her arm tightly around the hulking mass of her furry friend. The warmth of his body, and the feel of his fur, harsh, yet soft at the same time, the Twi'lek found them strangely soothing, as she did the gentle sound of his breathing, his gruff snoring. Some may have found it distracting, but Mission was used to it. The pair had shared a tiny apartment for years, after all. After all their time together on Taris, Mission had grown used to the noises of the Sleeping Wookee. She'd begun to draw comfort from them. To rely on them even.

Snuggling up to her large, furry friend, the young alien released a lungful of air.

Their return to the ship was not something that Mission had been looking forward to. The members of the Ebon Hawk's crew. Would they approach her? Would they notice anything out of place? Would they notice anything different about her? Or would they think nothing of it? Which outcome would be worse? Mission didn't know.

After everything Mission had gone through, surely the past day would have changed her. She'd lost a friend, and a brother. Well, maybe she'd lost Griff long ago. Mission would have been surprised if she hadn't changed, at least a little. She was dreading the crew's reaction. She wanted to be left alone. She needed time to herself. She wanted time. She wanted solitude.

Their return wasn't nearly as memorable as their time outside the walls of anchorhead, but that didn't make it any more enjoyable.

X

"You're back, finally!" Carth announced as the four of them entered the spaceport.

"Have you been standing on that spot this whole time?" Revan asked. Strange as it seemed, Carth was in the exact same place he had been the last time the two had spoken.

"No, of course not," Carth replied, "I just... hold on, who's this?" he asked, catching sight of the yellow Twi'lek in their group.

"A new addition to the crew, right Revan?" Mission stated.

"Right,"Revan confirmed.

"You always end up having crazy adventures when you go out... I don't know how you do it. So what's your story?" the soldier asked, turning his attention to the late entry.

"We'll discuss that later," Revan interjected. "For now, it is best that we leave as soon as possible."

"Uh oh," he replied. "I guess I should have seen this coming. What have you done this time?"

"Let's not discuss it here."

"Well, I saw that coming," the veteran mumbled. "Okay, let's go!" With that; Carth, Revan, HK-47, Mission, and Ree all quietly boarded the Ebon Hawk, walking up the loading ramp one after the other in orderly single file.

It wasn't long after that until the ramp was raised and the Ebon hawk was projected straight up into the sky.

As the crew gathered around, Carth locked in the hyperspace coordinates, the fruit of their labour thus far, and they were soon zooming through space at hyperspeed. Soon, everything they had worked for would be paying off. The Star Forge was finally within their grasp.

X

They were on their way. There was not much to do as they traveled through hyperspace, and as Mission knew it would, as much as she'd been dreading it, the inevitable happened.

X

"Hey, Mission," the Republic veteran called out, catching the Twi'lek's attention, catching her off guard as she made her way to her quarters. Looking about her, she saw that no one else was around. It was just the two of them. Just she and Carth. Sighing, she approached him. She had to get this over with.

"What is it?"She asked him.

"Can we talk?"

"Aren't we talking now?" the Twi'lek spoke as vague and criptically as she possibly could, making sure to be aloof and not give anything away. Mission didn't want or need the crew talking about her like some helpless kid.

"I mean in private."

"There's nobody around," the blue skinned Twi'lek argued, looking left, right, and even behind her as if to prove the point, until she noticed that Carth wasn't in the mood to negotiate. "Fine," she begrudgingly agreed. "Lead the way." She followed the soldier as he led her away from the safety and comfort of her bunk. She knew what this was about. This was what she'd been expecting. This was what she'd been dreading, but still, she needed to ask. It was a compulsion from within. "Is this... is this about what happened on Tatooine?"

"It is."

"Called it,"the fourteen year old mumbled humorlessly.

They came to a halt in a deadly quiet room filled with containers.

"The cargo hold?" Mission skeptically asked.

"This is agood enough place for a private conversation. This is where Revan and Bastila came when they wanted to be alone."

"Yeah. Too bad the entire crew found out about that," Mission remarked somewhat bitterly. How was she supposed to trust a room like this to keep a secret when it had so blatantly failed to do such in the past?

"That was different," Carth insisted.

"How?"

"Because, everyone... hey! Don't go changing the subject. I'm asking the questions here."

"Fine, whatever, ask what you want, then leave me alone!"

"What happened to you?" Mission's eyes closed.

"If that's what you wanted to ask me, you're wasting your time."

"No, that's not what I mean. I know what actually happened." Mission froze stiff.

"You... you do?"

"Yeah," Carth confirmed. "Revan told me all about it."

"He... told you?"

"That's right."

"And... you're fine with it?"

"No, not really, but what can I do? He's the one in charge here." Mission nodded. It was just as she'd suspected. Everybody here was under that man's control. "I actually advised him to leave you there." Mission's breath caught in her throat. She was surprised by that admission, and more than a little infuriated.

"You what?!"

"You could have stayed there on Tatooine with your brother."

"I don't have a brother," the Twi'lek uttered, her eyes narrowed.

"So I guess something happened between you and your brother. It was bound to, I suppose. Do you want to talk about it?"

"No!" she forcefully replied.

"Look, I know something's wrong. Something's happened to you. Something terrible. I don't know exactly what it is, but I know the look. I recognize it. I've seen it every day, in the mirror. Every single day since the bombardment of Telos. Ithought killing Seol would fix things. But it didn't. It just made everthing worse. Damn him. Damn him! But that... that's not important. The point is, I know that look, and I can see it right now. I can see it in your eyes."

Mission turned away. She knew this would happen, but she didn't want it. She didn't want Carth's sympathy, and she didn't want him snooping around. Not now. He couldn't help her. He couldn't undo what was done to her. He couldn't change the past, no one could.

"You can trust us. You're one of us, that's how we see you, that's how a crew works. We've been through a lot together, all of us. If you ever want to talk, we'll be here for you. You know that, don't you?" His question remained unanswered. The silence was unendurable. The pair stood in awkward silence, until finally, it was broken. Mission's tone was dead, cold, and neutral.

"Are we done here?" Carth's eyes suddenly narrowed.

"Listen, missy," he spat with rage and frustration blatantly evident in his tone, The past days and weeks of frustration being unleashed on the young alien. "don't go thinking this thing you're dealing with is the biggest travesty in the universe. Trust me, it's not. Because of this war, people are dying! You're still alive and kicking. Let us help you! Let me/ help you."/

Mission's gloved hands tightened into fists. What did he know? What the hell did that old man know? How could he stand there and minimize the seriousness and extremity of what had happened? Of what had happened to her? How could he stand there and insult the ordeal that Revan had put her through? Subconsciously, the girl traced her arm up her back, up to the scar beneath her clothing. Up to the burn mark Revan had inflicted with those smouldering iron chains. Up to the mark left when he'd cut her restraints with his lightsaber, allowing the red hot metal to burn her, to tarnish the clean, blue skin with twin, identical markings of black, like a tattoo. Up to the permanent reminder he'd given her, to ensure that she'd never forget what had happened to her, so that she'd never forget what he had done to her. As if she ever would. It was almost ironic, in a bitter, humorless kind of way.

What did Carth know? What the hell did Carth know?

"Listen, Ididn't mean that," Carth apologized, apparently having had time to reflect on his latest outburst. "I just want you to know that we're here for you."Thinking on his words, Mission nodded.

"I know. Can I go now?" Seemingly defeated, Carth sighed. He had given up. It was obvious in his tone.

"Do whatever you want."

X

That was the last time Mission had seen or spoken to any of the crew. Well, except for Zaalbar of course. With Bastila gone, Mission had the starboard dormitory all to herself. While there was technically another female in their ranks, Juhani, the Cather preferred to sleep on her own, away from anyone else. Outside of her allotted bunk in the designated female crew quarters located in the starboard wing of the freighter.

After her painful discussion with Carth, the rest of the crew had avoided her, and she had avoided them, save for the aforementioned Wookie with whom she currently lay.

Had Carth advised the crew to leave her, or were they doing it of their own submission?Thinking on it now, none of the crew who had joined after Taris seemed to bother with her. Revan, Carth, and Zaalbar were the only ones who had ever seemed to care about her.

Not that it mattered now. Had Mission changed? Carth had noticed it. Her change in attitude must have been a warning bell. Perhaps that's what was keeping the others away. The reasons were irrelevant. Besides, it was a fortunate situation in which the Twi'lek now found herself. Solitude was what she wanted; it was now what she possessed, almost.

Zaalbar remained beside her as her sole companion. This was the way Mission wanted it. Zaalbar was her only friend, her only family. He was all she had, needed, or wanted. He was the only one she would permit near her. Nobody else would get under her skin, nor over it.

Never again.

Not ever.

The sound of Zaalbar's heavy breathing kept the blue alien company during the long night. It was always the same. How many days had it been since Tatooine? How many sleepless nights had she lain awake, unable to rest her tired mind, unable to sleep? How many days had she spent roaming the empty halls in the tail end of the ship?How many hours had she spent in silent solitude?

This was all because of him. Everything she felt, and everything she didn't. It was because of him. His fault. All his fault. His damn fault.

Mission was numb. She didn't feel anger toward Revan, which was strange. She should have been furious. The alien thought she'd be burning on the inside, but she wasn't. She wasn't hot, but she wasn't cold. She wasn't upset, or any kind of distraught, but neither was she angry.

Mission felt nothing. She was utterly empty inside. She couldn't feel. She couldn't feel anything anymore.

No distress, no fury, no fear. She felt only one thing, surprisingly. A kind of nervousness, tapered with excitement. It was a sickly feeling that swelled in her once empty stomach like a bubble of gas. Expanding, enlarging, unstoppable. She had felt it before. It could have only been one thing.

Adrenaline, it must have been. Yes, that was it, she was sure of it. Her breath shook, her entire body quivering with it. With each measured breath, the feeling grew within her. The girl shuddered with each shaking exhale loosed from her pale lips.

Mission knew such a feeling. She had faced it before, usually in the midst of a ferocious battle, such as in the Vulkar base on Taris, or the Sith Embassy on Manaan, or on the Czerka walkway of Kashykk when that group of Dark Jedi had attacked them.

The battles had given her an unpleasant mix of excitement, fear, dread, anger, even sorrow. Mission shuddered as she experienced the all too familiar sensation, as the familiar chill ran down her spine.

Resolve took her, and without even breathing, the young Twi'lek moved her right arm across her body, down to her belt, down to the scabbard on her right side. Fingers enclosed tightly around the hilt of her Vibroblade.

Rising from the bunk, Mission took a step backward and drew her blade. She held the black grip in both hands, placing her left foot behind her and dropping into abattle-ready stance. The curved blade glistened in the low light of the Starboard quarters, contrasting the dull, grey metal frame below it, the guard separating the blade from the hilt, and the pommel, located below the Twi'lek's blue hands which tightly gripped the weapon, her body poised in a defensive stance.

Her face was deadly serious. Set and cold. Activating the ultrasonic generator positioned within the weapon's hilt, Mission felt the familiar tingling in her hands as the weapon began to softly vibrate. A blue light in the grip signified the weapons activation, as did the low hum that filled the room.

The weapon's hilt vibrated beneath Mission's hands. The design couldn't prevent this, but the slight inconvenience was well worth the benefit that the upgradable vibro-weapon gave in battle.

The ultrasonic vibrations of the blade were rapid and devastating. They could turn a mere surface cut into a gaping wound. The girl knew what she had to do, and she knew just how difficult it would be.

The calm, cool exterior simply didn't do justice to what was going on within the alien's mind, within her body. A Maelstrom of emotion, of adrenaline and fear. Nervous and excited, Mission switched off her blade, and the weapon's incessant hum died, giving way once more to absolute silence.

Releasing her battle-stance, Mission allowed her blade to fall to her side, held firmly in her right hand. Turning from her single companion, she walked silently out of the room. Zaalbar might have helped her, if she'd asked. But Revan was right. The Wookie would be torn between loyalty to his friend and the honour of his life-debt. It was a tough decision, a life changing decision. It would be adifficult place for the redeemed exile, and Mission would not place her friend in that position.

Walking through the halls and corridors onboard the Hawk at night was a strange experience. When everyone was asleep, there was nobody around. Nobody to see her. The lights were darkened. Enough to see, all the better to dictate the time. How else would the crew know when to sleep?

There were no shifts on this ship. There was no one keeping watch. There was no reserve crew, nor night crew. It made some sense. This was not a warship, after all. All were up during Galactic Republic Standard daylight hours, and the entire crew slept during the night. For this reason, the ship's lights were currently dimmed all over the ship, but especially so in the crew quarters and medical bay.

It was a method used to help the crew sleep, and to help them retain a semblance of time, so that one day would not blur into another. Time had a tendency to do that during interstellar travel.

The gentle humming noises of the ship's instruments were all that kept the blue skinned alien company. Even her footsteps remained silent against the hard, metal surface below her. Boots that usually clanked against the Hawk's floor refused to give voice, a datum for which Mission Vao was eternally grateful.

The Twi'lek knew what had to be done. She knew what she had to do. She wouldn't be able to sleep, wouldn't be able to rest, not until it was done.

Mission looked around, and she couldn't help but notice that the Ebon Hawk seemed so different. It was like a ghost ship with no life aboard and only reserve power to offer dim lighting and limited life support to any who may climb aboard the vessel, only to die when the struggling essential systems finally failed.

It was adisconcerting thought, a disturbing feeling. Mission didn't like it. She didn't like any of this. She took a deep breath, held it in, and let it out. This had to be done. Living in the past was useless. She had to move on.

Zaalbar was indebted and enslaved to a cruel master. So were they all, in a way. A terrible master. A soldier, a Jedi, a Sith. A master whom Mission would not serve. Not anymore, never again.

She knew what she had to do. It wouldn't be easy, but she would manage. She was alone, she had no help, nobody to back her up. Nobody would help her. The only one she could even hope to depend on was Zaalbar, but she couldn't ask her friend to help her with this disdainful business.

The tubular hallways of the Ebon Hawk led her into the hanger-like garage which was used to store various tools and materials, from weapons to droid parts. Up against the wall was a workbench. Droid maintenance and mechanics were things that Revan had come to fascinate himself with. More so as their journey dragged on. As time drew on, the crew had watched their leader's interest in the subject grow. It had relaxed him, allowed him to distance himself from everything. He could forget the quest and lose himself to a procedure or mechanism, if only for atime.

They all had their talents, their interests. As for Mission, she was most at peace whilst using her brain. Breaking a mathematical algorithm, cracking a code, or slicing a system. Cool logic.

The longer their quest, the more Revan had secluded himself away from them, confining himself to this very garage, toiling away in the endless hours of space travel, spending his time maintaining weapons, the droids, or the object that took up the majority of the room in the garage. The Swoop bike. With it, he had raced on Tatooine and Manaan, quite successfully in fact. More than that, he had competed in the sector championship on Manaan, even been named Sector Champion. That all seemed so long ago to the present Twi'lek.

So long ago. Back to a complicated, yet simpler time. Simpler than the current moment. A simpler time, and a much more pleasant time.

Despite everything, the Hawk's garage was deathly silent. Reguardless of it's occupants, and considering the flickering lights from up ahead, it was a wonder anyone could sleep in here, yet sleep they did.

Revan had grown apart from the rest of the crew, shunning the company of the living in favour of that of droids and machines. He'd begun spending all his time in the garage. Now, he was even sleeping in there.

How could he find such a place comfortable? The smell of dust, metal, and oil radiated throughout. And that bright light, flickering overhead. It was such an annoyance, Mission could scarcely tolerate it. How could anyone sleep in here?It was implausible.

Mission sighed and cleared her mind. It wasn't important. She was here for a reason. She had atask to complete. Tightening her grip on her vibroblade, the blue Twi'lek approached them.

Them. The two of them. The pair. Revan and his new slave, the Yellow Twi'lek from Motta's palace, the one who'd pledged herself to the Sith Lord in exchange for her life. The one they called Ree.

Revan lay on his back, near the swoop bike, his right arm draped lazily around the feminine alien who lay curled into him, seeming quite content with her head resting upon the human's chest. The Hutt-spawn looked so peaceful lying there together. Mission narrowed her eyes at the display, grudgingly accepting that her disdain could once have been envy. Hating the fact that she once would have wanted to be in the golden Twi'lek's place.

Thankfully, such was no longer the case, and Mission was no-longer filled with such foolish delusions.

Whatever these two had been up to, at least they were wearing clothes.

Taking her last final steps toward the couple, Mission raised her vibroblade and switched it on, once more feeling the familiar vibrations of the pulsating hilt in her right hand.

She held the weapon tightly in both hands and dropped into a battle stance. Neither aggressive, nor defensive. Her grip was tight, yet her body was loose. Her breathing deepened. Recycled, processed air flowed up the alien's nasal passage as the Hawk's life support systems fed her lungs.

She took slow, sluggish breaths, inhaling deeply. Deeper and deeper. This was it. This was really it. Mission saw nothing but the human below her, laying, sleeping under the flickering lights above.

Mission attempted to calm herself, to slow her noisy breathing. The lights above flickered distractingly, noisily. They buzzed and crackled as they erratically blinked on and off.

The vibroblade's hum was brought to Mission's attention. She didn't think it would be enough to wake the sleeping couple, but reguardless, she had to do this soon. If either of them woke, she'd be...

-She...

-She'd be...

-She'd be dead.