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Jun. 11th, 2012 10:04 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ladyofleithianTitle: Letting Go Isn't Easy
Summary: Gann Thracin, formerly Darth Revan, tries to recover post-Battle on the Star Forge.
Warnings: Angst, mentions of injuries and mind rape.
Prompt: Brainwashing.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
They had gotten inside his head.
Even now, Gann almost couldn't bear to look at the faces of the surviving Jedi Masters. He was glad they'd survived the bombing (though some were still missing), and yet he could barely look at them knowing they had gotten inside his head and tampered with it.
Granted, Bastila had all but said that he was -- basically -- brain dead from the impact of Malak's attack when she rescued him, but that didn't make it better.
Force, it actually made it worse. At the very least, they could have gone the old-fashioned way of imprisoning him as a Force-stripped shell, or just killing him. Or putting him on trial. Anything besides this, really.
And yet...
Grumbling to himself, Gann, after readjusting his pillow into a more comfortable shape, as well as finding a position that didn't involve lying on his broken ribs (the med droid had mentioned something about them taking a while to heal) finally managed to get to sleep.
Not that that helped.
Even now, the nightmares continued to plague him. All too familiar nightmares, of planets burning and collapsing in on themselves and so on and so forth. And his words to Malak.
"You're a genius. Stone-cold brilliant, Alek."
Malak practically snarled at the mention. "That name has no longer any meaning."
"Did anyone ever say you're spectacular at fooling yourself? I mean...come with me. We could see the galaxy together. Force, even fight some crime together or something. Just like old times. What do you say?"
Malak said nothing, but Gann swore there was a softening in those amber Sith eyes.
"There has to be a life outside destroying and killing and conquering, Malak. Please...what do you say?"
Malak had chosen death, of course. Gann could still remember the weight of Malak in his arms. Malak, protesting the idea he was not invincible. Malak, in the end, admitting it was his fault, ultimately.
"Don't talk like that, Alek, old pal. I'll get you out of here. The Jedi can help you. Don't die on me, Alek, please -- "
But preventing death wasn't as easy as simply ordering someone not to die. And Malak -- Alek -- had died there. Just like that.
"Revan?"
Juhani was here now. Gann gave her a watery grin; Force, had he really been crying? "Hey, Juhani. What's up?"
"Bastila said you're...not well."
"I'm okay. In a lot of pain, but okay."
"No, she meant...psychologically."
Oh, splendid. Fantastic. "You're not going to lecture me about letting go of attachment, are you?"
Juhani gave a harsh bark of laughter. "No. I doubt I am very good at lectures, after all."
"Okay then," Gann said, "What about, then?"
"I merely wish to tell you...Lord Malak's death was not in vain. Nor would...Alek have wanted you to give up hope."
Gann grinned weakly. "I can't say I knew him well. Well...not as Gann Thracin, that is."
"Neither did I. I do know, however, he was a good man."
Memories came to Gann now, almost unbidden. Alek's laughter without the mask, not the evil holovillain cackle Gann knew, but gentler, softer, sweeter laughter. Racing speeders over the plains of Dantooine, chasing sunsets almost, along with a girl with rich, thick dark hair. He remembered the girl -- his dear General, he realized. His mentor, an unconventional if brilliant woman, and him and Alek, calling the other Jedi to arms, to dispense justice unto the Mandalorians.
He remembered everything yet too much. And Juhani, gently, placed a hand over his own. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah." Then, "Alek was a good man. For his part."
Summary: Gann Thracin, formerly Darth Revan, tries to recover post-Battle on the Star Forge.
Warnings: Angst, mentions of injuries and mind rape.
Prompt: Brainwashing.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
They had gotten inside his head.
Even now, Gann almost couldn't bear to look at the faces of the surviving Jedi Masters. He was glad they'd survived the bombing (though some were still missing), and yet he could barely look at them knowing they had gotten inside his head and tampered with it.
Granted, Bastila had all but said that he was -- basically -- brain dead from the impact of Malak's attack when she rescued him, but that didn't make it better.
Force, it actually made it worse. At the very least, they could have gone the old-fashioned way of imprisoning him as a Force-stripped shell, or just killing him. Or putting him on trial. Anything besides this, really.
And yet...
Grumbling to himself, Gann, after readjusting his pillow into a more comfortable shape, as well as finding a position that didn't involve lying on his broken ribs (the med droid had mentioned something about them taking a while to heal) finally managed to get to sleep.
Not that that helped.
Even now, the nightmares continued to plague him. All too familiar nightmares, of planets burning and collapsing in on themselves and so on and so forth. And his words to Malak.
"You're a genius. Stone-cold brilliant, Alek."
Malak practically snarled at the mention. "That name has no longer any meaning."
"Did anyone ever say you're spectacular at fooling yourself? I mean...come with me. We could see the galaxy together. Force, even fight some crime together or something. Just like old times. What do you say?"
Malak said nothing, but Gann swore there was a softening in those amber Sith eyes.
"There has to be a life outside destroying and killing and conquering, Malak. Please...what do you say?"
Malak had chosen death, of course. Gann could still remember the weight of Malak in his arms. Malak, protesting the idea he was not invincible. Malak, in the end, admitting it was his fault, ultimately.
"Don't talk like that, Alek, old pal. I'll get you out of here. The Jedi can help you. Don't die on me, Alek, please -- "
But preventing death wasn't as easy as simply ordering someone not to die. And Malak -- Alek -- had died there. Just like that.
"Revan?"
Juhani was here now. Gann gave her a watery grin; Force, had he really been crying? "Hey, Juhani. What's up?"
"Bastila said you're...not well."
"I'm okay. In a lot of pain, but okay."
"No, she meant...psychologically."
Oh, splendid. Fantastic. "You're not going to lecture me about letting go of attachment, are you?"
Juhani gave a harsh bark of laughter. "No. I doubt I am very good at lectures, after all."
"Okay then," Gann said, "What about, then?"
"I merely wish to tell you...Lord Malak's death was not in vain. Nor would...Alek have wanted you to give up hope."
Gann grinned weakly. "I can't say I knew him well. Well...not as Gann Thracin, that is."
"Neither did I. I do know, however, he was a good man."
Memories came to Gann now, almost unbidden. Alek's laughter without the mask, not the evil holovillain cackle Gann knew, but gentler, softer, sweeter laughter. Racing speeders over the plains of Dantooine, chasing sunsets almost, along with a girl with rich, thick dark hair. He remembered the girl -- his dear General, he realized. His mentor, an unconventional if brilliant woman, and him and Alek, calling the other Jedi to arms, to dispense justice unto the Mandalorians.
He remembered everything yet too much. And Juhani, gently, placed a hand over his own. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah." Then, "Alek was a good man. For his part."
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no subject
Date: 2012-06-11 09:53 pm (UTC)I like the memories of Alek.
no subject
Date: 2012-06-11 10:10 pm (UTC)Let's say I had a bit of discontent regarding Malak's fate and the Jedi brainwashing Revan, so I kind of channeled it into the fic. :)
And I loved writing those bits as well. :) I just love exploring Malak before he became who he was.
no subject
Date: 2012-06-11 10:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-11 10:23 pm (UTC)