The autonomous wheeze of Malak's prosthesis grew weak, and the Sith Lord's hand which once held firm his iconic instrument of death, now clutched longingly for the life that ebbed from his abdomen. The giant of a man took a step back; what little strength he had in reserve determined to keep him standing, pride wouldn't allow him to fall, not just yet. He stared across at the hooded Jedi who had bested him; at the man that he had once called 'Master', and even longer ago called 'Friend' – a haunting laugh echoed within the shell of his jaw. The irony of it all. That which Malak claimed dominion over finally relinquished its grip – those eyes that were once steeped in darkness had all but lost their colour. There was no passion; only peace. Through defeat his chains had been broken and The Force had truly set him free. With a dull thud Alek had fallen for the last time.
No words had been shared between the men in the final moments; Alek's last action had been a simple nod, but Revan seemed to grasp the entirety of the feeling it conveyed. Revan was thankful for the mask that hid his face, hid the tears that fell still. A soft hiss sounded and the incandescent light that stemmed from the hilt of his saber retreated. The mourning of his friend was a brief thing; and as the Star Forge continued to fall the Jedi steeled his resolve and headed toward the hanger bay. There was still much work to be done – and in that moment he vowed not only to seek redemption for himself, but too for Alek whom he had lead down the path of darkness. ..