Theron ambled into the Galactic Museum he was booked to help guard. "You're late," the head guard said. Theron rolled his eyes and nodded. "Get in there. Now."

Theron nodded again and walked past the entrance desk and came to a full stop. There was a powerful aura radiating throughout the museum. Theron looked at the stairs and felt the aura calling him to its source, begging him to follow. He took a few steps towards the stairs. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" the head guard asked again. Theron turned around, snapped out of his stupor. "Get back there!"

Theron nodded ambled and back into the staff room. "Hey, Theron. You're late," one of the guards said.

"So I've been told," Theron replied. He opened up his temp locker and grabbed the stun pistol all the guards carried. Theron shut his locker and turned around. "You have any idea what this is about?"

The other guard shrugged and leaned down to tie his boot. "Some big thing that they bought. What I heard is that it belonged to some dead Jedi or Sith from years ago."

"You're not sure, though?" Theron asked.

The other guard stood up and cracked his back. "Nah. The official unveiling is tonight. It's why you're here, actually. The whole stupid gala of the triumvirate'll be here soon."

Theron scoffed. "Of course they will." He shook his head and lightly slammed the back of his head into the lockers. "Ugh, why me?"

The other guard shrugged. "Anyways, I heard they want you at the front. Something about you being a pretty boy they want greeting the pretty people."

"Great use of my talents," Theron replied. He grabbed an extra security guard cap from a nearby bin and threw it on. Theron walked out of the room and began to stand near the door.

"Ten minutes till the first dignitaries show. Don't be yourself," the head guard ordered over communications. Theron rolled his eyes again.

You feel that, right?

"Great. You again," Theron mumbled. "Now I can look crazy around the people I hate."

You've felt that before. The same... power. You remember, don't you?

Theron shook his head as an image of his mother flashed through his head. "Be quiet," he grumbled to the voice. "You aren't real."

Think harder. It wasn't your mother. You're on the right track. Think.

Theron's mind flashed back to the item she had received all those years ago. It was just a torn up mask. A shattered, broken thing. It was nothing, especially not powerful. It was though, wasn't it? Think about the mask. What was it? What did it look like?

Theron ignored the voice while the first dignitary arrived. Grand Master Horn. The woman walked through the doors to the sound of clapping and camera shots. "Welcome," Theron said to her with his expertly veiled venom. The Jedi bowed thankfully to him. When she was walking away she shot a worried look up the stairs.

You see? She can sense it, too. The voice said. The aura of power fluctuated and Theron began to see flashes across his mind's eye. First there was an eight foot tall wookiee followed by a huge storm of Force lightning. I remember that. And that.

Theron shook his head as he got an idea of who the voice might be. And the artifact, if he was right. "Welcome," Theron said. The chancellor of the Alliance glanced over as he entered the museum and continued up the stairs without a word. "I think I like Horn better. That says a lot."

Hmph. Politicians were bad in my day.

"So history says, Darth," Theron shot.

Hm? Oh. You know who I – wait, Darth Who? Specifically?

"Yeah, yeah. What was it like to almost rule the galaxy?" Theron asked.

Again, Darth who? The voice asked.

Theron ignored the voice of the one-time Darth Vader when his most hated enemy walked into the room. "Grand Moff – The Galactic Museum welcomes you to the gala. You as well, your Highness." Theron forced an inviting grin onto his face and gestured for Gann and Djo to walk up the stairs while he waited for the rest of the dignitaries.

"Thank you, son," the Moff said. He took a step and froze. He turned back to Theron. "You look familiar."

"Yeah, one of those faces, I guess," Theron supplied. He gestured at the stairs again. "Please. Enjoy yourselves."

Gann stared at Theron for another moment. "Thank you," he said.. He walked away with the blonde-haired woman at his arm. Theron stared after them and let his face relax into its disgusted rage. He imagined his lightsaber flying through the necks of the two and ending their lies permanently. Yet he restrained himself, somehow.

Theron looked back at the door and waited for the rest of the celebrity guests for the event. A few more Jedi and Moffs showed up, and then it was time for the premier of the artifact. "Get up to the edge of the stairs. No one leaves until the gala is over."

"Yeah, cause we can toe to toe with Jedi," one of the other guards said, almost sounding like he had smirked.

Theron grunted an affirmation and took his place at the edge of the stairs. For a few moments, no one even came near the stairs – the stun gun strapped to the outside of his jacket did wonders to deter people. Eventually, with enough substances, people lost that fear and drifted in more and more irregular paths. "You again," Moff Gann said when he drifted closer to Theron. The man's cheeks were slightly flushed with alcohol, but he seemed to be in total control of himself. "How goes it... what is your name?"

Theron smiled calmly. "Theron Daen. It's nice to meet you, sir," he replied.

"Thank you. I knew a Theron once. Good kid. Died ten years ago, on this very day. Treaty day is... not an entirely positive day for the Empire. The Royal Family was killed and it nearly destroyed us."

Theron nodded. Maybe the man wasn't entirely in control of himself. "But you held it together. At least that's what everyone says."

Gann nodded solemnly. "You look a bit like the prince, actually. The same dark hair and gray eyes... Ha, those are common enough though."

"Yeah, I've been told that a lot, too," Theron replied.

Gann considered Theron for a moment. "I'd better let you get back to your job. Sorry for... occupying your time," the Grand Moff finally said. The man walked away slowly and glanced again at Theron before disappearing into the crowd.

What was that about, I wonder? The voice asked. Theron shook his head and tried to force the voice out of his head. It wasn't easy with the center of the powerful aura being only meters away. In fact, the presence of the voice only seemed to increase in strength the closer to the artifact Theron was. Your mysterious, half-forgotten past?

"I remember my past," Theron grumbled to himself. He hovered his hand above the communicator so as to not appear completely crazy. Just like a very smart crazy person would hide it.

"People of Coruscant!" a voice shouted. The lights dimmed Theron's attention was thrust towards a stage near the wall by the beams of light directed from spotlight droids. A Duros man clapped his hands and pointed around the crowd.

"Curator is a weird guy," Theron whispered to himself.

The Duros man raised his hands above his head and screamed, "Happy Treaty Day!"

The crowd erupted in screams that nearly deafened Theron. He shook his head and was glad that he could no longer hear the voice or feel the aura of power over the emotions rushing through the drunken revelers in the room. Still, it was annoyingly loud. "Now, this is an amazing new exhibit that is tied to all three groups whose leaders are here today. These artifacts are older than the Empire. They date back some four millenia. Ladies and gentlemen... I present the exhibit, 'The Mask of Revan!'"

"Not Vader?" Theron asked himself, confused by this turn of events. He watched a huge sheet of black cloth fall from the ceiling and a huge, imposing mural was revealed. It was a man dressed in black, unconventional robes. He had golden/bronze armor across his chest and his on his crossed arms. A red sash traveled down the center of his robes from his waist to the hem of the robes. And beneath his hood, was a mask. It was simple enough; there was a thin black strip where they eyes of the man behind them would be. The top was a silvery-gray, and the middle beneath the mouth was maroon that connected to maroon that surrounded the gray and ran up the cheekbones to the forehead.. The cheeks were a midnight black that matched the robes. At the booted feet of the man was that same mask in a duraglass case. The mask was terribly damaged: there was a huge scar that ran across the eye strip, and the mask was covered in ancient burns that faded the coloring that the mural showed should be present.

"You're not Vader," Theron said to the voice. He thought back to his mother and the package.

"This was a very important artifact of my family. Four thousand years ago, there was a hero," Theron's mother had said. Her black hair had been cascading down her shoulders in rings, and she was wearing a beautiful crimson dress. "He did bad things. Terrible things. But he did them because he wanted to help the people of the galaxy. He figured out he was wrong, and stopped what he had started. This was his. And now it's ours." She had opened the case, and that same... blanket of power had permeated the room.

Just before a blaster bolt had flown through her shoulder.

Theron snapped back to reality when the noise of the party returned to normal. "You seem preoccupied, boy," a woman's voice said. He looked around wildly and saw Grand Master Sylven Horn staring at him. She was an attractive woman, if past her prime age. She was at least fifty, but her face still looked like she was in her early thirties.

"Excuse me?"

The Jedi shook her head. "What is wrong?," she said. Shecrossed and uncrossed her arms uncomfortably. "You look... troubled by the mural."

Theron laughed. "Aren't you? He looks... well, he doesn't look inviting or warm," Theron replied. His eyes fell on the mask near the ground. "And his mask looks like it's seen better days."

"Hm. The mask is... odd," the woman said. "Just as odd as finding myself talking to you for no reason. A security guard dressed differently from the others. I have no interest in speaking to the guests, nor in speaking to any other guard. I feel myself pushed by the power around the mask into speaking with someone who, on the outside, has no discern able use to me."

"Wow, I thought you Jedi were all about peace, love, and everyone's worth something," Theron responded. The voice in his head snickered.

"Hm. I am merely looking at you, and thinking you have a great destiny. Anyone even slightly strong in the Force could see that your power has increased ever since you approached this item. When I walked in, I knew you were strong. I could sense it. Your power is great, and distinct from that radiating off of the mask. But it fits very well with the mask's. Supplementary, one could say."

Theron's eyes ran to the mask and back to the Jedi. "Hmph... gonna take me in? Make me a Jedi?"

The woman laughed lightly. "Your powers are not unhoned, I can see that much. Do not presume I cannot tell. I won't take you in; I'm not sure I could. Besides, one that strong in the Force usually ends up where he needs to be regardless of what others do. Just tell me what you are – Jedi, Imperial Knight."

Theron looked up at the mural and shrugged. "Neither. And I'm not Sith. By the way, you'll find a dead one in Red Vong territory. Togruta. Maybe nineteen."

"Ah, yes. I'd heard the 'Gray Jedi' had shown up in the mid-levels. So that's you, Theron... what did you say your name was to Gann... Daen?."

"Wh – Oh, yes. Theron Daen. That's me," Theron replied.

The woman shook her head. "Goodbye, Fel. I expect we will see much of each other in the near future," she said. She turned and disappeared before Theron had time to process what she had said. When he finally did, it was all he could do to hide his surprise.

"Sh-she knew who I am?" Theron asked himself. His hand slid to his pocket where the familiar weight of his lightsaber rested. He could probably find a way to kill her, neutralize the threat. If she told Gann, it could end very badly. On the other hand, if and when the information regarding Gann's part in the assassination came out, she could be Theron's only confirming person for who he was. His only way back to the position stolen from him.

You are a uniquely paranoid person, the voice told him.

"That's what people say when you have voices in your head. Especially the voice of a Sith who died four thousand years ago," Theron replied. A woman glanced at him and he raised his hand to the communicator. The woman turned away with a shrug.

The party continued relatively quietly for the next hour. Theron put his reaction down to nerves and decided he would talk it over with Rhen later. Besides, despite what Horn had said, Theron wasn't entirely sure that he could survive a fight with the Jedi Master. If it came down to it, he was almost sure that Horn and who knows how many undercover Jedi and Imperial Knights would take him out; two stupid Sith starting a cult was a lot different than an army of Force users.

Then Theron suddenly felt an incredibly dark presence radiate throughout the room. His hand went to his blaster moments before the lights went out. "Kark!" Theron shouted. He unholstered the useless blaster and looked around the dark room. Someone screamed and thirty lightsabers, all green, blue, or silver, ignited in the crowd. They were quickly followed by five matching blood red sabers. "Kark."

"Sith!" Horn shouted. She pulled her violet doublesaber from her robes and jumped towards one of the red sabers in the nothingness.

"Guards, stand down!" shouted the head guard. "You'd be useless against Sith – leave this to the Jedi! Just direct guests to the safe area!"

Theron shrugged and holstered the stun blaster. "With only stun weapons, we'd be worse than useless," Theron said into comms. He reached into his pocket and pulled the lighsaber out.

You're thinking they're after my mask, the voice of Revan noted.

"It's my mask, now," Theron replied. He took a few deep breaths and felt the pull of the mask's Force energy yet again, calling him to it. He let that feeling in, and he found himself walking. His steps went faster and faster until he was sprinting down the stairs. He didn't hear the head guard screaming at him to stop over the communications line.

He ran out of the door and jumped off of the ledge with his eyes closed. A simple push of the Force and he landed across the airstreet. "No ordinary human could have done that," a voice said. Theron stood up and ignited his saber. He turned around towards the mask's power, where a tall, extremely pale humanoid stood with a very odd and long lightsaber held the glass container of the mask. His body was, too, covered in black tattoos like many Sith. The man looked at the saber. "Ah, you're the Gray Jedi who's been attacking gangs in the mid-levels."

The man cocked his head to the side. "Maybe more a charcoal than a gray, I suppose," the man said. He placed the glass container on the ground and ignited the root-textured lightsaber hilt. "Show me what you can do."

Theron's vision flashed red and he lunged forward with his blade. The Sith moved sideways and deflected the blow with his saber. Theron turned with the momentum of the deflection and slashed at the Sith again. The man slapped Theron's wrist with one hand and brought the hilt of his saber into Theron's head. "Can't you show me something a little better?" the Sith asked while Theron clutched at his bleeding temple.

Theron snarled and extended one hand towards the Sith. A torrent of gray and purple Force lightning arced towards the Sith, who brought the blade of his saber to bear the brunt of the energy blast. With his other hand he began to alter the flow of the lightning until it arced back upon its caster. Theron gasped in pain when the electricity arced across his body and he subconsciously stopped using it. Theron fell to his knees and his deactivated saber clattered on the ground next to him.

"Disappointing," the Sith said. He turned and took a single step towards the mask. Theron gasped for air while the Sith man punched through the glass and freed the mask. He began to bring it to his face. "Now for this artifact of the Dark Side to grant me the power I desire."

Theron gasped when the glass shattered and he felt an influx of power. He felt more alive than he ever had. He glided to his feet using the Force and his saber flew to his hand.

"What's this?" the Sith asked. The hand holding the mask fell to his side as he studied the rejuvenated Theron. "Feeling more up to the challenge, little Jedi."

Theron's eyes flashed orange for a split second. "Do not fool with me, Sith," he sneered. He rushed forward at the Sith again, who was suddenly struggling to stay even partially ahead of Theron's blows. Each slash of the saber came closer and closer to his body. Theron narrowed his eyes and forced a saber lock with the Sith.

"This is what I was hoping for!" the Sith shouted. Theron sneered at the man and an electrical impulse flew through his white saber and into the Sith's. The man spasmed in pain for a moment and his hands flew open. The saber fell to the ground, dead, and the mask clattered next to it. Theron grinned and raised his blade to the Sith's neck.

"Lord Nihl!" another Sith screamed. The characteristic crackle of Force lightning flew through the air towards Theron, who turned faster than he thought he could to deflect the energy. When he turned back, the Sith was gone, only the saber and mask remained.

"Darth Nihl..." Theron said to himself. "Coward."

He heard sirens and looked down at the airway at the incoming Corsec police. He shook his head and grabbed the damaged mask before running off.

A little while later, Revan began to speak with Theron again. You took my mask. Why?

"When the glass broke, the mask made me stronger. Strong enough to take down that Sith. Which means he's going to come after me. And so will the Jedi and Imperial Knights. I can't afford to get arrested or worse before I have a chance at finding proof Gann was involved in my parents' deaths. So now it's my mask," Theron explained. "It responded to me, not Nihl. I got stronger, he didn't."

Great. My descendant is has a bigger head than I did. Suddenly feel bad for Bas and Carth, Revan grumbled.

"Shut it. Well, once I bash out these scars, the mask should be usable," Theron pulled the mask up and stopped running in surprise. "Th-that's not possible."

The mask was completely undamaged. The dent across the eye strip was gone, and the burnt paint was was completely restored. It was as if the mask had just been made, rather than having barely survived the past four thousand years.

Oh. I rather liked some of those battle scars. One of them was from when I defeated Mandalore the Ultimate in one on one battle. Now, it's like I didn't even fight him. Well, except you speak basic instead of Mandalorian, Revan said. There was a level of sadness in his voice, as if a physical reminder of his memories had been torn away.

"You don't exist, stop whining," Theron snapped. He returned his attention to the mask and saw a flash of Revan slicing his violet saber through the body of a huge, armored man.

Theron tentatively raised the mask up to his face and peered at the inside. "Looks like it fits," he said to himself. He sighed and placed the mask over his face; sure enough, it fit tightly, but comfortably, on his face. The mask extended over the back of his head and he heard mechanisms shifting as an AC unit shot into action to keep him cool but not cold. He blinked as the world around him was scanned by microprocessors and screens inside the mask displayed the information and world around him. It was almost like he was not even wearing a mask.

Something else, huh? Modified it a lot over the years. Looks better with a hood, too.

"Of all the things to care about," Theron said to himself. Still, he did reach to the back of his overcoat and unzip the hood from its container. He pulled it over his head and began to put his saber into his ocket. He froze and instead buckled it to his belt. "Not like anyone can recognize me, now."

"Freeze!" Theron turned around and stared at the Jedi who was holding their saber out and towards him. Theron blinked uninterestedly and began to turn away. "Freeze! Hand over the mask!"

Theron glanced over his shoulder at the Jedi and moved his eyes over the empty space beside the walkway. The Jedi's lightsaber flew from his hand and fell down the innumerable stories of Coruscant. "S-sith! F-f-freeze!"

Theron turned back to the Jedi. "Not a Sith. You can call me Revan, though." The Jedi shivered and backed away from him in fear; Theron grinned and came up with an idea. He ignited his saber and sent a violet charge of electricity through the white plasma. The Jedi jumped back with a slight scream of fright and the trash rattled on the ground where he landed. Theron turned away from the Jedi again and walked away into the night.