Star Wars_ The Old Republic_ Revan - Drew Karpyshyn [91]
As Revan suspected, his jailer had never experienced a vision through the Force. It wasn’t unusual: the phenomenon was much rarer in those who followed the dark side. Their focus was internal—they used the Force as a tool, rather than seeing themselves as instruments of the Force’s will. They were not accustomed to opening themselves up to the Force for guidance and direction.
“The Force has shown me that my future lies beyond these walls,” Revan lied.
“I don’t put much faith in visions and prophecy,” the Sith said.
“Have you ever felt a premonition of danger through the Force?” Revan asked, trying to help him understand. “Sensed a threat before it was revealed?”
“Of course.”
“The visions are merely an extrapolation of this. The Force flows across both space and time; it links the past, present, and future.”
“It is said that Naga Sadow had visions of the Sith crushing the Republic during the Great Hyperspace War,” Scourge countered. “We both know that never came to pass.”
“The future is always in motion. The Force grants us visions that show us only one of many possible outcomes.”
“Then what use are they?”
“They can guide our actions, give us direction. They can show us a path we wish to follow, or one we can try to avoid.”
“Like the vision that brought you here,” Scourge asked. “The dream of Dromund Kaas and its storm-covered sky?”
“That was a memory, not a vision,” Revan reminded him. “But the Force does sometimes speak to us through our dreams.”
“And what does your vision show you? How do you make your great escape from this dungeon?”
Revan chose his next words carefully, his dulled wits sensing an opportunity. He knew his best chance—perhaps his only chance—of escape was with the Sith’s help. But he could not be the one to suggest the alliance; the Sith Lord had to think it was his idea.
That was why he had fabricated the lie about the vision: to draw attention away from his clumsy efforts to convince the Sith to help him. Now, however, he had an opportunity to plant a seed.
“You will understand in time,” he said cryptically, knowing the other would dwell on the hidden meaning behind his words.
The Sith was already obsessed with him. He hungered to tap into Revan’s understanding of the Force, and the Jedi knew he dominated the red-skinned being’s conscious and unconscious thoughts. It would only be natural for Revan to sometimes be the subject of the Sith Lord’s dreams.
Hopefully, the Sith would come to believe that his ordinary dreams were actually visions granted by the Force. If all went well, he would come to believe there was a greater power trying to draw them together. He might decide of his own accord that Revan was the key to defeating the Emperor, spurring him to help the Jedi escape.
It was a long shot, but Revan had nothing else to hope for.
“I have no wish to play your games,” the Sith snapped, annoyed by the enigmatic response. He turned on the heel of his boot without saying a word and marched out of the cell, sealing the door behind him. Revan knew from experience it would be at least a week before he returned. The abrupt ending to their conversation and the impending prolonged absence were intended as punishment; his interrogator had long ago replaced physical torture with the supposed mental anguish of isolation.
For most prisoners this would have been an effective tool, but Revan was able to endure the long periods alone by meditating on the Force. At times like these he would try to reach out to Bastila, hoping at least to let her know he was still alive.
He opened himself up to the Force. As it flowed through him, images of the woman he loved danced through his head. And then suddenly they were gone, replaced by the amorphous face of another.
“Meetra,” Revan gasped as the features shifted sharply into focus. They held for an instant, and then vanished.
Revan knew this was more than some mere recollection of a lost friend. It had been too intense and powerful to be a memory. It was almost as if in describing the nature of Force