Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own thoughts. Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and his talented crew. This story was created for the sole purpose of pleasure for myself, and for (hopefully) the legions of Star Wars nerds all around the world.

Authors Notes: I decided the other day to begin a FanFiction on the greatest game ever created, Knights of the Old Republic. It is the only story that I have posted on here, and I do hope it turns out quite alright. I decided also to take a different approach to the typical Knights of the Old Republic story and have both Revan and The Exile Light Side Male, just to change things up a bit. There will be a minimum of OC's so mainly old characters, give or take the random OC Sith Lord. Rated for Violence and really just that. Enjoy and review!

The Beginning of the End; Chapter 1

The Ebon Hawk's engines were at full throttle as the former smuggling freighter rocketed out of Malachor V. Right behind the ship, a squadron of Sith fighters chased the ship down, firing their laser cannons at the ship. The Hawk's powerful shield repelled the shots momentarily, giving the crew of the Ebon Hawk enough time to man the gun turret.

"If someone doesn't man those turrets were gonna end up like that old witch: in pieces!" shouted Atton from the cockpit, doing his best to maneuver the freighter around the laser fire.

Mandalore and Bao-Dur ran towards the gun turrets, strapping themselves in to the seat. They began landing precise blows on the fighters, taking them out one by one. As the two soldiers took care of the fighters, Brianna hastily carried the Exile to the ship's medical bay, laying him gently on the bed.

The Exile was badly wounded by his former master, Darth Traya, having several gashes throughout his body. His screams could be heard throughout the ship.

"Stay with me Exile! C'mon stay with me!" uttered Brianna emotionally as the Exile's eyes began to close ever faster. The sight of seeing the Exile in such pain was almost to much for her to handle, but she stayed focus. She wiped her tears from her face, knowing that if she did not do something, the Exile would die.

She ran over to the plasteel cylinder next to the bed and picked up several medical supplies from the cylinder. She began working on the gashes as fast as she could. By this time, the Exile was already unconscious.

Mandalore and Bao-Dur had easily disposed of the Sith fighters, allowing Atton to enter hyperspace. The two quickly came down from the turrets and went to see how the Exile was doing.

"How is the general?" asked Bao-Dur in a tranquil voice, always appearing to stay calm even in the direst of situations.

"Not good. He is bleeding far to much. Then there is this wound, which seems to have penetrated deep into his chest. I'm afraid it might have hit an organ. But I am no doctor! We NEED to get him professional medical attention quick, or he might not last the day." said Brianna in a painful voice, obviously deeply concerned on the health of the Exile.

"I've seen what you Jedi are capable of, are you telling me you can't heal a few wounds with the force?" asked Mandalore in his usual aggressive tone.

"The Exile had just begun to teach me the ways of the force. I can barely move a Bothan stun stick and you expect me to heal wounds of this size?"

"Then maybe the Miraluka can. We've all seen how many scars and wounds she has, and she seems to have recovered fully from all of them. And I doubt the Sith gave her any medical attention when she was with Nihilus, meaning that she must know how to heal someone."

"She is not going anywhere NEAR HIM! I will NOT allow it! She is Sith!" yelled Brianna, bursting at the very mention of her name. She had always been suspicious of the Miraluka since she first came on board the Ebon Hawk. However, suspicion was not the reason the Handmaiden hated Visas so much. Jealousy was the true factor in the utter despise for the former Sith. Though she did not admit it to anyone, if was obvious to the rest of the Hawk's crew.

"If you don't put your hate for her aside, then he will die!" shouted Mandalore, outraged at the lack of maturity being displayed by the Echani.

Visas walked over to the Medical Bay slowly, hoping to avoid any direct conflict between her and Brianna. The Miraluka had hesitated going to help the Exile in order to not spark conflict, hoping that Brianna would be able to heal his wounds without the need of the force. However, seeing as Brianna was failing terribly in her attempt to cure the Exile, Visas knew that she could wait no longer.

"Step aside, Echani." murmured Visas, making her way into the Medical bay in order to save the Exile's life.

Before the Miraluka could even put one foot inside the medical bay, she had Brianna's double bladed light saber less than an inch from her throat, her chin covered in an ocean of blue light.

"Get away from him Sith! One more step forward and you shall get a taste of my blade!" yelled Brianna, her blade getting ever closer to the Miraluka's skin. Her lack of Jedi training became more and apparent seeing as how she would prefer the Exile to die rather than another getting near him.

"It is unfortunate that I have to do this. But you shall thank me later." The Miraluka took several steps back away from the Handmaiden's light saber. Just as the Handmaiden lowered her massive weapon, Visas raised her arm with amazing speed, and began a light force choke on the Handmaiden. Brianna dropped her saber on the ground, clutching her hands around her neck, gasping for air.

"What the hell are you doing!?" asked Mandalore, shocked at what was unfolding before his eyes. Even for someone who had been through so much battle and had seen so much, never had he seen to Jedi fighting over another Jedi.

"Calm down, Mandalorian. If she will not let me heal him, then she must be removed from the room. Seeing as how she will not do that willingly, I will have to do it for her." said Visas, intensifying the grip on the Handmaiden's airway. After several seconds, Brianna slowly slipped for consciousness. Visas stopped the choke promptly once the Echani fell helpless on the cold floor, allowing air to fill her lungs once more, keeping her alive.

"Lock her in the cargo hold. Make sure that the door is sealed shut so when she awakes, she will not escape and seek me out. She must be kept in there until the Exile awakes."

Mandalore and Bao-Dur picked up the Handmaiden's unconscious body and placed her in the cargo hold just as instructed. Visas walked into the medical bay, closing the hatch behind her.

Her knees dropped to the floor as she centered herself, calling upon the force. She placed her hands over the Exile's head, using the force to heal his extensive wounds.

A luminous glow began to emit from the Exile as his wounds slowly began to disappear. The Exile was saved.

Visas gathered what little strength she had left in order to lift herself. She opened the hatch leading out of the medical bay, walking out ever so slowly. Outside of the bay was the crew of the Ebon Hawk, all waiting intently to hear if she was able to save their leader.

"It is done."

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Sorrow and pain was all that filled the mind of a man who had held the galaxy in the palm of his hand. His power and his godlike ingenuity spread through worlds like wildfire, planting its roots deep in the minds of the rich and the poor alike. He conquered worlds, turning them into diamonds, spreading peace and prosperity everywhere he laid his feet on, and everywhere he did not. He was looked up to by all, loved by all, and cherished by all. Now the man who had everything…had nothing.

Kreia had warned him that his kind nature would be his downfall, but he refused to listen. All his heart knew was compassion and mercy. The force had given him something some would call a gift, and others a curse.

For Revan, altruism had resulted in his undoing. He had been stripped of his power, imprisoned, tortured, and most horrible of all, been taken away from the one person that even he would have killed the galaxy for: Bastila.

There was not a day, a minute, a second that his mind did go back to the women that made his life worth living. Even after more than 5 years of imprisonment, years of constant mental and physical torture he fought on and never gave up. He longed for the day he could be back with her, with the republic strong and the Sith finished.

Sadly, the cards were not in favor for him nor for the Exile, nor for the Sith. The Republic was weak and getting only weaker. Their army was lead by Admiral Onasi, who was pained and mentally weak by the disappearance of Revan and the diminishing force of the Republic. The Jedi were few in numbers, with only a few of the masters left. The Sith were equally in numbers as well, and lacking a leader. And the Sith can only go farther downhill without a leader.

No matter how doomed his life seemed, he would not let "them" win. Even as he lay there, almost swimming in blood, he would not let the last flicker of hope within him die. For that flicker of hope was all that kept him alive.

His beaten and bruised face was illuminated by the bright blue force field that surrounded the same room he had been in for the past 5 years. The Sith guards stood outside the field, their red skin creating a beautiful contrast even when created on such a horrible canvas.

Revan crawled slowly on the floor, attempting to reach his food for the day: a small bowl of boiled Cannok. At first, he had refused to eat what little they would give him. Eventually however, he was not able to sustain himself without food. Because the room he was in severed his connection to the force, as long as he remained inside of it, his sole source of energy was the Cannok he was given.

He put the pieces of the deceased animal in his mouth, using the little energy he had to chew.

The look in his face spoke for him; the smell of the game reminded him of the stench of the Gamorrean infested sewers back on Taris, though he would much rather be in the presence of Gamorreans as opposed to Sith.

He quickly finished his food, lying back down on the cold metal floor. A gap was created in the force field as the Sith beast tamers walked in, each holding mammoth chains which were attached to the necks of 2 equally mammoth Terentatek.

Revan's screams could be heard from corridor to corridor as the Terentatek did what they did best. Revan knew he would not last much longer on Ziost, placing all his hope on the Exile and his former allies.