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KOTOR unofficial ending by David Gaider

Discussion in 'BioWare' started by Vault Dweller, Jan 1, 2004.

  1. Vault Dweller Commissar, Red Star Studio Developer

    Vault Dweller
    Jan 7, 2003
    27,030 ... ement.html

    Yes, I do work for Bioware.
    No, this is not official.
    This is a piece of fiction I wrote for a few fans (read: fanatics) who inspired me with their adoration of the character, Carth. It’s melodramatic and mushy and overall I’m very pleased with how it’s turned out. I hope they like it.


    By David Gaider

    The approving roar of the crowd was deafening.

    Revan waved to the mass of people mechanically, a plastic smile of appreciation on her face. It wasn’t that she didn’t feel thankful and a bit embarrassed at all the adulation... in fact, quite the opposite. There is only so much one person can take, however. After a whole month of touring the Republic just to stand on floating skiffs and wave to crowds of on-loookers who had all come to hear all about how a Jedi and her friends had saved the galaxy...

    ...the voluminous ceremonial robes chafed Revan’s shoulders once again and she groaned, trying to shift her arms underneath the heavy material without breaking out of her smile-and-wave routine. Jolee, standing beside her in a smart-looking blue robe, smirked and tried to stifle a chuckle. He wasn’t the capital-H Hero, after all... he didn’t have to smile and wave, all he had to do was stand behind Revan and not look like he wanted to bolt.

    On her other side, HK-47 bristled irritably, the sunlight gleaming off his newly-polished surface. “Query: I can kill them all for you, master,” he whispered conspiratorially. “A few shots from my blaster and I can have this herd of organic meatbags stampeding over each other like –“

    “No,” Revan cut him off. “Don’t do that.” It had become an automatic reflex. Whatever HK-47 wanted was Not a Good Idea.

    “Protest: but Master --!”

    “No.” She did not stop waving and nodding. The crowd was still cheering wildly... how long would they go on today? On Coruscant, the Jedi Council had put her out for viewing for a full hour and they were still cheering when they finally, mercifully let her stop. “There will be no mass murders, no stampedes, no death-dealing today. Leave the meatbags well enough alone.” T3-M4 tittered with amusement beside HK-47, and the droid angrily turned on the small unit and gave it a swift kick in the gears.

    Jolee leaned in close, needing to yell as the crowd’s cheering swelled once again. “So how does it feel to be a hero, my dear?”

    “Miserable. I can’t wait for this to be over.”

    “You say that now,” he chuckled, “but give it a few weeks. You’ll be stamping your feet and spelling your name out to the wookiee doorman at some Corellian party, reminding him how you once saved the galaxy.” He turned and gave a brief wave out to the crowd, grinning. He winked at a young noblewoman in the front rows and she positively swooned. “People are fickle and ungrateful. And panicky. Like a herd of fell cats.”

    Revan laughed. “Oh, I doubt I’ll be stamping my feet anytime soon. I can’t wait to be forgotten, a little.” She stopped waving for a moment and turned to Jolee, arching a brow curiously. “Come to think of it, I haven’t seen you for a while. I thought maybe you’d gone back to Kashyyk to live the life of a hermit monkey again.”

    “Ho, ho, ho. Go ahead, make fun of the elderly.” Jolee’s smile became slightly mischievous. “If you must know, you’re looking at the only ex-Padawan to ever be admitted to the ranks of the Jedi Masters.”

    “You? Rejoined the Jedi? How uncharacteristically optimistic of you, Jolee.”

    He grinned widely. “I know, isn’t it?” His expression then became slightly more serious. “And you? What happens after all of this?” He gestured to the still-roaring crowds. “Have you decided?”

    Revan frowned. The skiff began to move slowly once again, making its slow return to the giant platform where a horde of Senators, Jedi Masters and other dignitaries waited to continue their congratulatory speeches once again. “The Jedi Council would gladly decide for me, I think.”

    “You haven’t forgiven them.” It wasn’t a question.

    “Should I? You didn’t.”

    “This isn’t about me, dammit.” Jolee frowned at Revan, and then his face slowly softened and he sighed heavily. “Maybe before you go picking your battles, my dear, you might decide what it is you actually want. Do you even know?”

    “No,” Revan said quietly. It was a lie, and even Jolee knew it.

    She knew what she wanted. Her heart heavy, Revan closed her eyes for a moment and tuned out the noise of the crowd. She tuned out Jolee’s presence beside her and ignored the motion of the skiff. She felt him close by... and yet, at the same time, he never felt further away...

    * * *

    Carth leaned against the window and frowned deeply as he watched the massive crowd cheer Revan on. He stared at Revan, herself, and wondered absently how she was able to even stand in that ridiculous ceremonial robe the Jedi had put her in. His thoughts were dark and troubled. He should be happy, shouldn’t he? He should be down in that crowd, cheering with everyone else at their victory. Or, better yet, up on the skiff standing next to... her.

    He heard the door to the apartment open behind him, and so he straightened up and adjusted his jacket. Upon turning around, he stopped abruptly. “Bastila?” And so it was her. She wore the simple robe of a padawan apprentice, her head newly-shaven with the simple lock of hair at the back... but most markedly, she looked calm. Completely passionless and serene, unlike he had ever known her to be. “I thought... I thought you might be Mission.”

    “Mission has returned to Kashyyyk with Zaalbar,” Bastila stated. She slowly glided in, waving a hand in front of the door panel to increase the light level in the dim room. “I understand that Zaalbar is to assume his father’s position.” She studied Carth for a moment clinically, a brow arched. “You look terrible, Carth.”

    “Gee, thanks,” he said sarcastically. “I, ah... haven’t seen you since...”

    “The Star Forge,” she finished.

    “Yeah. You look good.” He was serious.

    “The bond between Revan and I has finally been broken. I feel peace.”

    He nodded. “Wish I could say the same.” Quickly, Carth strode over to the small bar and opened up several flasks, smelling their contents. Most of the stuff here was expensive, exotic potions that he simply didn’t care for. Finally he located a bottle of Corellian brandy and poured himself a tumbler full. Bastila, meanwhile, walked over to the window he had been standing at and gazed out at the crowd beyond. Their cheers could still be heard faintly even through these thick walls.

    Carth took a sip of his brandy, watching Bastila carefully over the rim of the glass. He frowned. “Have you heard from Canderous?” he asked casually.

    Bastila shook her head. “He has disappeared.” She looked away from the window and regarded Carth. Her eyes darted at the drink in his hand and the small pile of empty glasses on the nearby table, but she did not remark on them. “We assume he must have slipped off shortly after the cruiser returned from the Star Forge. I don’t believe an effort has been made to locate him. It is obviously his wish not to be found.”

    He nodded absently, taking another sip from the brandy. There was a long, pregnant pause as he and Bastila stared at each other without speaking. He cleared his throat. “And Juhani? I suppose she’s with your people.”

    “Juhani stayed on Coruscant. I believe she’s gathered a coalition of Senators willing to back up her proposal for stricter measures to combat the slave trade.” Bastila shrugged faintly. “She was very popular in the Senate and she seemed so... committed. I do not know if she intends to return to the Jedi.”

    “Oh.” Carth took a long pull on the glass and drained it. “Sure, I suppose there’s a lot for the Senate to do now that the Sith are on the run.”

    “And even more for the Jedi to do,” she stated pointedly.

    Another long pause passed. Bastila seemed content to stand by the window, her hands folded within her padawan robes. Finally Carth sighed, rubbing his temples. “So are you going to tell me why you’re here?”

    “You know why I’m here.”

    “Revan.” He put the tumbler down slowly. “What about her?”

    “She has an important future.”

    “So? I’m not standing in her way.”

    “Aren’t you?”

    Carth frowned, and then slammed his fist down on the table beside him. Several of the tumblers rolled off and onto the floor with a clatter. “Damn it! Haven’t your people done enough to her already?!”

    “One could argue that she owed much to begin with. You know who Revan was.”

    “That isn’t her! Not anymore!”

    “That’s correct,” Bastila’s tone was lined with steel. “She is a Jedi, one of the most powerful ever known. And the savior of the galaxy. The Sith Empire still exists, Carth, and it must still be battled. And she alone can unite the Republic.” She stepped towards him, her eyes intense. “What would you have her do, instead? Make babies?” She said the last with a faint hint of derision.

    Carth turned away, grimacing. “Why don’t you ask her what she wants?”

    “You know what she wants.” Bastila put her hand on his shoulder. “Love is dangerous for a Jedi such as she. Would you allow her to take that risk? For you?”

    Carth hung his head, his eyes clenched shut as he felt that familiar pain twist around his heart. “I –“ he began, his throat cracked.

    Bastila squeezed his shoulder. She looked away, her own eyes suddenly deeply sad. “I know,” she offered helplessly. They stood that way for a long minute until Bastila let her hand drop and she quietly glided towards the door. It opened silently, but before she left, Carth looked up. “Bastila, wait.”

    She stood at the doorway, not turning back. “Yes?”

    “Your mother... did you ever meet up with her?”

    Bastila was silent a long time. She closed her eyes. “She died.” Her voice was hollow, and with that she left the apartment. The door closed behind her, and Carth snatched up the bottle of Corellian brandy. He didn’t really need a glass, anyway.

    * * *

    Finally, Revan leaned against the wall of the corridor and sighed in relief. She had only barely detached herself from the fancy reception, and it had looked like a Mon Calamari diplomat would intercept her before she made it to the door. Good thing Jolee all but tackled him to stop that... chances were that HK-47 might have interpreted the diplomat’s chase as a pursuit and launched into full combat mode. So far she had managed to keep the casualty list down to two “divebombing” doves and a “suspicious-looking” tach hound. The Council had wanted to de-activate HK-47 completely initially, but when he completely obliterated the one actual Sith assassin who had attacked since the Star Forge before any of the Jedi Masters were able to move... well, then they changed their minds and decided the risk might be worth it. Thankfully, T3-M4 seemed able to reign in most of the droid’s excesses.

    Making a note to thank Jolee for saving her later, Revan quickly walked down the corridor towards her chambers... and stopped abruptly when she saw Carth standing at her door. He turned her way awkwardly, obviously not having expected her to be there, and Revan crossed the remained of the distance between them slowly, watching him fidget. His eyes were red and he appeared unkempt even in his new uniform. She didn’t fail to notice, either, that he slipped what appeared to be some kind of note into his jacket.

    “What’s this about?” Revan asked evenly as she drew close.

    “Hey, beautiful.” Carth greeted her, but his light tone smacked of falseness and even his grin faltered as she frowned at him.

    She nodded towards her door. “Would you like to come in?”

    He looked down at the floor. “I... can’t.”

    Revan quailed inside but kept ahold of herself as she turned to face him. “I’ve barely seen you this past month. I thought... I thought things would improve after you got back from your debriefing.”

    “So did I.” His voice was filled with sadness. Still he refused to look her in the eyes.

    Tears welled up, but she fought them off. “Why are things so awkward now, Carth? Are you... having second thoughts?”

    Slowly, he reached into his jacket and pulled out the note. He still didn’t look at her, but gestured at the note in his hands helplessly, as if it explained everything. “I’ve arranged... to meet with Dustil,” he mumbled. “On Manaan. He survived, and I –“

    “You didn’t answer my question.”

    “I have to see him,” Carth finished. He looked up at her, his expression tortured. “I have to go,” his voice cracked and tears began to roll down his cheeks. He looked away again.

    “Can I come with you?” she asked stonily, already knowing the answer.

    “You’re needed here.”

    “You don’t... want me to be with you?”

    Still he refused to look her in the eyes, and said nothing. Revan's heart clenched, and despite her pride hot tears rolled down her cheeks. She reached out with a hand to touch him, but couldn't. Her hand hovered away from him, yearning, until finally, mournfully, she let it drop.

    They stood there for what seemed forever. Finally Carth turned, and without a word began to walk down the corridor away from her. Revan watched him go, her tears freely flowing. She reached up and pressed the button on her panel to open her door, but before stepping inside she turned and looked at Carth. “What happened to the man who said he’d stand beside me, no matter what?” she whispered bitterly. “You said you’d protect me.” With that, she entered her room and the door closed.

    Carth stopped where he was, wincing as if physically struck. He closed his eyes and slowly mouthed the words to himself: I am.

    * * *

    Bastila strode purposefully into Revan’s bedroom, stopping at the entrance to take it all in with an expression of disapproval. The room was dim, the tint on the windows turned fully dark to block out the midday sun. It was also in complete disarray... Revan had not left her bed for two days and it showed.

    “I know you’re here, Bastila,” came the tired croak from underneath a massive tumble of bed sheets. “Go away.”

    Bastila sighed and walked into the room fully, picking up a short robe from the back of a nearby chair and studying it to see if it was wearable. “Remove the tint from the windows, please,” she calmly spoke out loud. Slowly the darkness of the windows lifted and bright sunlight spilled into the room like an unwelcome stranger. The mass of bed sheets flinched angrily in response.

    Bastila turned towards the bed, frowning. “Really, Revan,” she scolded, “you’ve managed to worry the Jedi Council and the Senate both. They wonder if you’ve perhaps contracted some deadly illness. Not to mention the fact that you’ve turned the diplomatic suite into a dank cave.”

    “I don’t care,” came the hidden voice again.

    Bastila walked forward and perched on the edge of the bed. “Please come out,” she said softly. Finally, the sheets moved and Revan appeared. She looked unkempt and had bleary, red-rimmed eyes that were currently filled with iron resentment.

    “I know what you’re going to say,” Revan began smoothly. “This is no way to act. Not for a Jedi. He’s leaving and you’ve got to move on.”

    Bastila regarded Revan sadly. “Then I suppose you don’t need me to actually say it.”

    Revan sighed wearily. “I’m just... so tired.”

    “I know.”

    “Has he left yet?”

    Bastila said nothing right away. Finally she shook her head. “He leaves this morning.” Revan was silent for several minutes, staring out of the window with only a blank expression. Eventually Bastila cleared her throat. “Please. Come assure the Council that you are well. There are only two more stops on your tour... it is almost over.”

    Revan shook her head slowly. “No.” Her voice was flat, neutral. “No, I don’t think I’m going to be doing that. I’ve done enough of the tour.”

    Bastila’s smile was gentle. “Do you truly want to disappoint so many?”

    “I don’t care. I’ve been paraded in front of crowds enough to last me a lifetime.”

    Bastila nodded, understanding. “Very well, then. It’s too bad, but I’ll arrange it for you. We can leave this afternoon to meet the Council at the new Academy on Alderaan. I’m sure they’ll want to –“

    “No,” Revan didn’t take her gaze away from the window. “No Jedi Council.”

    Bastila stopped short. “What do you mean by that?”

    “It’s simple,” Revan turned to look at Bastila. There was steel in her eyes. “I’ve had enough of the Jedi Council, too. I did what they wanted. We’re even.”

    “You must be joking. There’s so much more that needs to be done!”

    “Let someone else do it.”

    Bastila paused, frowning and licking her lips. “Revan,” she started slowly, “don’t do this just because Carth –“

    “Carth made his decision,” Revan interrupted, “and I’ve finally made mine. He has nothing to do with it.”

    “So you’re just going to waste all your potential? Just walk away?”

    “I never said that,” Revan replied icily. “Just because I don’t intend to do everything the Jedi tell me to from now on does not mean I’m wasting my potential.”

    “Don’t be a fool,” Bastila snapped. She was starting to grow angry and doing her level best to control herself. “You still need training. You can’t just run off, half-cocked, and expect to be of any use to anyone... least of all yourself. Do you want to fall to the dark side?”

    “I suppose you would know that best, wouldn’t you Bastila?”

    Bastila bolted upright off the bed, fury evident on her face. Suddenly she closed her eyes, calming herself visibly. Revan could see her lips moving as she spoke the code silently. Finally Bastila opened her eyes again, her composure mostly regained. Revan was hardly fooled. “Carth knew that his duty came first,” she growled. “Why can’t you?”

    Revan sat slowly upright, suspicion creeping across her face as she stared levelly at Bastila. “What did you say?”

    “You’re a powerful Jedi. You have a duty to help the Republic,” Bastila intoned. “You can’t just shrug it off like this. Don’t be so selfish.”

    “No,” Revan said quietly. “What did you say about Carth?”

    Bastila stopped short, confused. “What?”

    “You said ‘Carth knew that his duty came first.’ What did you mean by that?”

    Bastila’s eyes went wide, alarmed. She stepped back. “N-nothing...”

    Revan angrily threw off the bed sheets and jumped off the bed. She stormed to the chair and snatched the robe, putting it on. All the while her furious eyes did not leave Bastila, who spluttered helplessly. “Revan, Wait!” she exclaimed. “You don’t understand --!”

    Revan whirled on Bastila. “I understand one thing, Bastila. You were everything the Jedi Council thought of as the perfect Jedi. I was the one that they feared would fall at every step. But *you’re* the one who fell. I didn’t. And I won’t! You’d do well to remember that.” With that, Revan stormed out of the bedroom.

    Bastila stood there, unmoving, listening to the door close behind her. Her eyes were closed as she attempted to calm the storm of emotion inside her. Slowly, sadly, she shook her head. “You’re too late,” she said to no-one in particular.

    “He’s already gone.”

    * * *

    “Comfortable, Captain?”

    The electronic-sounding voice coming over the callbox was joking, of course. The freighter wasn’t meant to carry passengers, really, and Carth was strapped into one of the undersized seats in the ship’s tiny and overcrowded crew hold. Carth supposed he could have easily gotten passage on a regular commercial liner, if he’d wished... for free, even, thanks to his status as a bona fide hero of the Republic. Or he could have waited for a military transport. He hadn’t wanted either. The freighter captain was an old friend he’d looked up... someone he would enjoy talking to, and someone who would give him the space he needed.

    He reached up and flicked the switch on the callbox. “As comfortable as I can be in this junk-heap of yours, Kelam.”

    The chuckle came back over the callbox immediately. “Right. Hang on, we’ll be away shortly.”

    Carth sat back and tried not to look out the viewport at the station. Part of him felt good that he was going to see Dustil again. To try and make things right with his son, to make things as they should be... he looked forward to that. The rest of him felt withered inside. Spent. Saul was finally dead and he’d given up the one thing he believed he still had to live for. Never had he felt so... so utterly tired.

    He closed his eyes and felt the familiar hum of the engines firing. The deck shook as the ship slowly geared into life. Moments later it was lifting off and the ship was leaving the starport quickly behind. Carth rubbed his temples, sighing painfully. This would be a long trip.

    The ship suddenly jolted and Carth’s eyes snapped open, alarmed. Another, stronger, jolt was followed by the clear whine of the ship’s engines working overtime. The movement of the freighter felt wrong. He reached up and flipped the callbox switch. “What’s wrong? Are we being tractored?”

    The response was brief. “No, but –“ and it cut out. Concerned, Carth quickly unstrapped himself and ran towards the cockpit. The engine’s whining got louder and there was definitely a sensation of the ship actually listing. What was happening?! He barged into the cockpit to find Kelam swearing angrily and struggling with the yoke. The ship bucked and fought him and the engines were taxed to the maximum... yet sure enough it felt as if the freighter was being pulled backwards.

    “What’s going on?” Carth demanded.

    “I don’t know!” Kelam looked flustered. He flipped switches and pulled hard on the yoke, but none of it seemed to be helping. “It’s not a tractor beam! Control swears it isn’t! But something’s grabbed us!”

    The ship jolted again, and the engines whined even louder. Carth stared out the viewscreen at the starfield above... and suddenly his eyes went wide. “Cut the engines,” he breathed.

    “What?!” Kelam yelled, aghast.

    “Cut the engines,” Carth repeated. “Do it.”

    Docking Bay 12 had ground to a complete halt. The ground crew stood still, their gravsleds motionless. The entire traffic control stared, jaws open, their communications equipment crackling with bursts of electronic chatter that they ignored. Several droids stopped their rounds, and two guards walked in from the outside corridor, their rifles slack at their sides. More people came from nearby, drawn to the silent spectacle as all stared... completely hushed with awe... at the single Jedi who stood on the landing pad.

    She wore a simple robe and looked completely unkempt, but as she stared up into the sky above she looked completely serene and there was the unmistakable aura of power around her. She was calling out to the sky with the Force... and today her will would not be denied.

    Ever so slowly, the freighter... it’s engines silent... floated back into the docking bay. Not a sound was to be heard, and neither Revan nor the growing audience of spectators moved a muscle. The motion of the giant ship was unnatural... as if it flowed gently upon the air itself, graceful and slow. It dwarfed Revan on the landing platform, and when it finally touched down the quiet thoom was felt throughout the bay.

    Still no-one moved.

    Moments later, the loading door opened underneath the freighter and Carth slowly stepped out. At first he was taken aback by the crowd of people all silently watching him from throughout the bay. And then his eyes fell upon Revan. She was a complete mess, he thought to himself, but never before had he ever seen anything so beautiful. Tears streamed down her face, her eyes bright as she stared at him. She seemed almost frozen in place.

    So Carth went to her. He slowly made his way down the ramp, his steps becoming more urgent the closer he got to her. He began to run, and suddenly so did she... and as they drew together almost magnetically they sped up until their pace was a desperate sprint. And then finally he swept Revan up into his arms. They embraced, clutching to each other with an exquisite intensity.

    And like a wave finally breaking upon the sand, the collected spectators broke into wild applause. The approving roar of the crowd was deafening... but neither Carth nor Revan noticed.

    “I’m sorry,” he whispered breathlessly into her ear. “I don’t know how you found out, but I should never have listened to them.”

    “Just don’t do that again,” she warned him seriously. “I honestly don’t know if I could do that twice.”

    “Are... are you sure?” he asked suddenly asked, hesitant. “About this?”

    Revan disengaged slowly from their embrace and looked Carth in the face. Both of their eyes were bleary with joyful tears and really they looked ridiculous. She laughed suddenly and so did he. It felt good to laugh. The audience cheered again, and now they both looked out at the crowd bashfully, waving briefly before looking at each other and laughing giddily once more. “I don’t care what we do,” she said quietly to him. “We have a destiny ahead of us still. Our story isn’t done. Whether it’s making babies or more fighting, I don’t care so long as you’re there with me. Think you can handle that?”

    The grin he returned was so gentle and hopeful it made her heart ache. Carth leaned in and finally they kissed. And it was glorious.

    “For you?” he told her. “Anything.”
    ^ Top  
  2. Volourn Pretty Princess Pretty Princess

    Mar 10, 2003
    You expect me to read all that? It may be good; it may be bad. Either way, I just don't care enough to find out. :twisted:
    ^ Top  
  3. HanoverF Arcane Patron

    Nov 23, 2002
    MCA Divinity: Original Sin Project: Eternity Torment: Tides of Numenera Wasteland 2 Codex USB, 2014 Divinity: Original Sin 2
    Here's the ending for Carth for anyone who doesn't want gay romance options in BG...

    (It looks like Carth has something to say)

    PC: "Carth, it looks like you have something to say, but if you say 'I Don't Want to Talk About it' one more time, I'm going to put my blaster to your head and pull the trigger"

    Carth: ..."I Don't Want to Talk About it"


    Zap Zap


    *TEH END*
    ^ Top  
  4. Volourn Pretty Princess Pretty Princess

    Mar 10, 2003
    You should never ever complain about ANY game's writing quality ever again as that is awful even if you were simply trying to be sarcastic. :twisted:
    ^ Top  
  5. triCritical Erudite

    Jan 8, 2003
    Colorado Springs

    and in reality 90% of the time the dialogue options have me sounding like the one who has something to say.
    ^ Top  
  6. HanoverF Arcane Patron

    Nov 23, 2002
    MCA Divinity: Original Sin Project: Eternity Torment: Tides of Numenera Wasteland 2 Codex USB, 2014 Divinity: Original Sin 2
    From the guy who thinks the NWN OC is a quality story, thats the highest compliment I can recieve, thank you
    ^ Top  
  7. Sol Invictus Erudite

    Sol Invictus
    Oct 19, 2002
    Pax Romana
    That was pretty good when compared to the official ending. Beats the hell out of a "YAY LETS ALL CHEER" bs on that little planet.
    ^ Top  
  8. Volourn Pretty Princess Pretty Princess

    Mar 10, 2003
    Hanov: :lol:
    ^ Top  
  9. Realbumpbert Liturgist

    Jun 12, 2003
    It's so...sweet. :( *sniff*
    ^ Top  
  10. Hawkwing74 Liturgist

    Jan 6, 2004
    Very nice work. I love that game! A bit too much of a Hollywood ending, but I still like it.
    ^ Top  
  11. Azael Magister

    Dec 6, 2002
    Multikult Central South
    Wasteland 2
    Can't say that I agree. Jolee joining the Jedi Order again seems just wrong to me. At least the ending in the game was very true to the source material.
    ^ Top  

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