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Chapter I: The Exile’s Recovery

Snap.  A circular, round ship shot through the blackness and twinkling stars of space, following a Hyperspace route.  It’s orange and beige markings fooled the looker into the belief that this was a republican-born ship, but the Ebon Hawk’s history proved otherwise.  Only the motley crew within its broad hull gave away its current alliance towards the Galactic Republic.  One of the crew— a young, brown-haired boy in his early twenties— sat up from the cockpit seat while white and cyan light streaked by the windows.  He immediately dashed towards the loading ramp, eager to see what awaited him.  It was what he’d hoped to find.
“Zae, you’re alright!” he exclaimed at the girl standing before him.  Or, rather, leaning on the wall before him.  Her Jedi robes were bloodstained and burnt, her short blonde locks of hair ruffled from battle.  Panting heavily, she grinned at him as other people began to enter the loading area around them.  A pale Zabrak with a mechanical left arm in a tech suit entered from the garage, holding a hydrospanner in one hand.
He nodded understandably and spoke, “General.”
A rusty red protocol droid walked up next to Bao-Dur, red eyes gleaming menacingly.  “Master,” he spoke, loathingly acknowledging his ‘goody-two-shoes’ owner.
From the central meeting room, behind the boy, emerged a teenage girl with striking red hair.  A short leather jacket and mint green tie-shirt barely covered her upper body above half-armored dark green pants.  She smiled with satisfaction at what she saw before her.  A flash of ruby caught the bounty hunter’s eye, as from the east dormitory emerged another girl, but this one, she knew, not human.  
The Miraluka, covered in a dark-red-and-leather robe that veiled her sightless eyes, had a frown on.  It immediately changed to a look of relief as soon as she saw her savior standing before her.
Entering directly opposite Visas was a boy, blonde and a bit older than the first, sporting a short, tan-and-brown version of the typical Jedi robe.  He too had an extremely relieved expression, near the blushing point; the first boy glared at him, as if stating a claim, to which he did not notice.  The final entree’s expression was not this elaborate, as it was hidden behind a battle-scarred full body armor-suit.  This was the recently-appointed Mandalore, leader of the scattered Mandalorian clans, which he was gathering up until he was disturbed by the woman he was now facing.
Only two people were missing: the Ebon Hawk’s astromech droid, T3-M4, was one of them.  He was probably rolling around, fixing the ship.  The second…
“Here, let me give you a hand, Zaenara.”  Mical moved in, Atton’s burning gaze drilling holes into his neck, though still oblivious to it.  “I’m sure you could use some rest after the huge ordeal you’ve been through.”  An ordeal?, thought Atton angrily.  That’s what he calls being nearly stripped of all of your life-force?  More like torture.  What would he know, anyway?  But still, Atton did nothing to stop them as they walked to the medical bay.  
As Zaenara reached the bed, she said: “Thank you, Mical; and thank you everyone.  You’ve been so supportive, and stuck with me through thick and thin; so I regret to say that there is one last thing we must—.“  She was cut off as she nearly fainted on the spot, breath sharp and short.  Atton almost sprang over to her, but regained dignity and stood up straight as he saw she was fine.  “I’m sorry, but I think I should get some rest for now.  I will speak to you all in the morning.”
The crew took that as their cue to leave; Atton pausing to look back, and then returning to the west crew quarters, followed by Bao-Dur and Mical.  Both Visas and Mira broke off as well to head to the east crew quarters.  Mandalore just headed back to the ship’s central room.
However, while everyone else was having dreams—pleasant or none at all—Zaenara Cloud’s mind was being battered with visions of things she had never seen or heard of.
Visions of Pain; of Darkness.  Of Anger and Hatred, Fury and Malice.  Visions of Disaster.  She could not do it.  She just could not.  She could not abandon the one she cared for.  But she had to.  If she did not, the small flickers of life she was connected to would burn out, her own blazing fire along with them.  But then, her vision flashed and changed.  She was flying across a jungle world, fresh with life forms of all different shapes and sizes.  Fresh with the Force.  Suddenly, she was in front of a huge structure.  Columns and pillars, archways and rooftops, bursting with a design and substance she could not recognize; in all her years traveling she had seen nothing even similar to this.  On top of it was a woman.  A woman with flowing, flame-colored hair, dark brown robes somehow of the same, unknown tailoring as the building, and a peaceful yet unbelievably powerful aura.  Her vision flashed once more.  She was in a tiny white room filled with nothing but medical supplies.  Next to her was a striking young man with short, smooth, dark brown hair.  He was wearing a dark ribbed jacket and a dirtied white shirt, along with black pants that could not possibly get more torn.  The man looked into her eyes with his own calm, yet concerned deep brown eyes.  This was no vision.
“Atton.”
“Yeah, it’s me again.  I just hope you’re as happy to answer the crew’s questions as I am to see you awake.  What was happening? In your dreams, I mean.  You were thrashing about like you were losing a game of Pazaak you bet 10,000 credits on.”
“I—“ she began.  But she remembered what she had learned in that dream.  What Kreia—Darth Traya, she mentally corrected—had told her.  “I was having a bad dream, that’s all.”
“Hmm... didn’t think Jedi had bad dreams...  Well, anyway, I’m sure that even Mandalore’s anxious to here the news you spoke of, so we should go.”
“Yeah...”  She giggled a bit at his comment on her ‘unemotional’ friend.  She hadn’t heard any of Atton’s sarcastic lines since Dantooine, and it felt good to laugh again.  Zaenara stood up carefully, testing to see how awake she actually was, and walked to the main room, Atton behind her.  She could not see the relief on his face as she walked into the main room of the Ebon Hawk, everybody waiting for her.
Here goes nothing...



(((*****)))



Zaenara Cloud, former Jedi Knight, slumped down on her bed.  Her mind was tired out, and she had a headache from all of the talking she had done to her crew.  She had told them everything, from what Sion said to how she had defeated Darth Traya.  Everything, that is, except what Traya had told her; about what she must do, where she must go.  Finally, I’ve finished explaining, she thought exhaustedly.  I just hope the crew isn’t going to ask any more questions.  Especially Mical.  He’s cute and kind an’ all, but he really doesn’t know when to stop asking ‘Why?’ even to himself....  It was weird, though...  Atton didn’t ask anything; he just sat there, looking satisfied and understanding.  It was so unlike him....  Maybe... maybe what Traya sa—.  But she was cut off by another pang of her headache.  Decidedly, she pulled up the covers over her head and went to sleep silently.

Oddly, she had no dreams; and when she awoke, she felt refreshed and alive despite her previous condition.  Carefully, she got up and had breakfast.  Her morning was much like that of ‘normal,’ if having no-one talk to you, and them avoiding your eyes, is normal.  Her mind was always on alert, and today was no exception, even though she knew she had defeated the immediate threat; seeing as they were also orbiting around Onderon, she wouldn’t be attacked from anywhere, by anyone.  Delving into the ship’s computer, she had attempted to find all she could about Revan, but the only thing potentially related was the fact that there had been a ‘MASS FILE DOWNLOAD’ to an unknown drive.  It looked as if she would have to find information elsewhere.  Maybe looking on Onderon would help?  After all, she remembered hearing that the former Dark Lord had once gone to Onderon and helped establish a new ruler.  She went to the east crew quarters to see if anyone would go.  All she found was Atton and Bao-Dur, who was still sleeping.
Quietly, she asked, “Atton, will you come down to Onderon with me?  I need to find some... information...”  She felt bad about lying to him, but this had to be done; Mira was on a weapon shopping spree, Visas was meditating, she knew taking HK in would be suicide, and she couldn’t find the other guys.
“Sure I will, Zae.  Maybe I could go to the cantina, check out some old friends...”  He seemed to know she couldn’t tell him about the ‘information,’ but it might just have been her imagination.  Since the ship was already docked with the orbiting service station, they could rent a transport down to the surface.

Author’s Notes

Ha-HA!
Version 3.0!
DWAH!
*happy dance!*  <(^.^)^

I realize that I may be coming into the KotOR fan-fiction business a little late, as KotOR 3 may come out next year.  However, I still have developed an extremely extensive story; one that I wish to become written down.  Even if KotOR 3 does come out while I’m still working on this, I will continue it, just under the guise of an Alternate Universe story.