Controlled fires littered the war torn landscape of Malachor V. Revan and Malak supervised the defeated Mandalorians while they destroyed their armor and war mounts. The Republic Heroes' presence wasn't necessary; they had plenty of soldiers capable of keeping the order. Revan felt the need to keep watch and to leave the impression of her firmly imbedded in the minds of the defeated.
After several hours of watching each of the Mandelorian warriors burning their equipment, the injuries she suffered while fighting Mandalore were starting to take their toll on her body. She had poured as much force into healing herself without completely draining her resources. She wasn't afraid that the honor driven Mandalorians would suddenly attack her, but she feared collapsing after being physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted would dishonor the memory of their beloved Mandelore.
Out of site of the fires and allowing the soldiers control the aftermath, Malak assisted Revan up the loading ramp of their vessel. He reached his arm around her, and she rested within his embrace, struggling to keep her eyes open.
"Medic!" Malak called out after the ramp eased shut. He tapped on a control panel, "We're on board. Take off when ready," he ordered the pilot.
"I'm fine," Revan mumbled a half-hearted argument.
"Sure you are," he placated the military genius. He smirked down at her. She weakly jabbed him with her elbow.
"Sir, we have a problem," a masculine voice called over the radio.
"What now?" Malak demanded.
Four robed individuals appeared in front of them. Revan straightened to face the strangers. She gently pushed Malak back and glared at the intruders. Malak understood her need to look and feel strong. Intimidation was something Revan excelled at.
"Get off my ship," Revan commanded angrily.
"Jedi Revan and Malak, the Council has sent us to escort you back to Coruscant," The robed individual in front announced.
"What makes you think that I would need an escort, or would even want to go back to Coruscant?" Revan demanded.
"We come in peace. The Council wishes to speak with you," he continued.
"I don't wish to speak with the Council," Revan raised an eyebrow. "I win the war, so now they want to get on my good side?"
"Hardly, Revan," the leader continued. "They wish to discuss the conditions of your punishment."
"My punishment?" she chuckled.
"You disobeyed the Council. You need to justify your actions."
"I gave the Republic a fighting chance! The Mandalorians have no use for Jedi's 'wait and see' approach," Revan argued. She instinctively reached back for her lightsaber. Malak watched her glide her fingers delicately along the hilt. His was already in hand, preparing for her signal.
"This is the last time I'm going to ask nicely. Get off my ship," Revan's eyes widened.
"I had hoped we could reach an agreement peacefully," the leader continued barely keeping his voice steady.
"Have you ever used one of these outside sparring grounds?" she unclipped and ignited her saber. "Have you felt the burn as the blade slices into an arm, leg, or chest?" she eyed each of them carefully, slowly, watching as her words sink in.
"I haven't."
"Revan," Malak said calmly.
She raised her hand to him without breaking her gaze with the Jedi speaker.
"We would rather not use force," he continued.
"Good, 'cause that is a battle you will not win," she growled.
"You have to come to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant."
"No."
The lead Jedi ignited his saber, the others closely follow suit. Revan grinned madly. She felt that they were strong and well trained. However, she had mastered their training and learned a lifetime's worth absorbing the influences of her colleagues and enemies. She ignored her injuries from fighting Mandalore, a vastly more worthy opponent than these disgusting religious peons.
She stood armed in a defensive stance. She held her blade steady, challenging them to make the first move. The Jedi speaker looked at her cautiously and calmly. She stepped around not breaking her gaze from him. Malak remained close, watching for her signal.
The speaker finally made a move; the four Jedi intruders focused their energies on Revan. She laughed a haunting laugh. She danced with the lightsaber as an extension of her body. She fought them back, however, her injuries from the day showed when she stumbled, and one of the Jedi took advantage of her momentary lapse to circle to her back. Malak stepped in, easily making the killing blow, shoving the attacker away.
Perhaps it was the blind rage at the Jedi taking advantage of Revan's injury that distracted him, but he failed to notice one of the remaining three barely out of his peripheral vision swung at Malak's throat. Revan stopped the motion with a downswing and force pushed the assailant away.
"Malak!" she called to him. The blow had done its damage. The smell of burnt skin was too much for her. He laid back, his jaw missing, falling unconscious. Everything Revan had learned about restraint and mercy died. Her face burn with anger, and it fueled her fight. Each swing held the revulsion she felt for these people and everything they represented. She pushed down the last attacker with her boot to his throat, her lightsaber hovering over his heart. She looked back at Malak, knowing he slipped into unconsciousness. "The Jedi Council's interference will no longer be tolerated," she plunged down through the final attacker.
Mechanical air pushing devices, Malak thought. My legs, my arms… I can't move them. Are they still there? He wondered. He tested his eyes. They opened. He blinked carefully several times. He recognized the med room from the Leviathon, Saul Karath's ship.
He tried to move his head to the side, but found he had been restrained. He seemed to be at the will of the medical machinery around him.
"Ah, you are awake," a kind female medical attendant smiled down at him. "I've been ordered to tell Revan immediately."
She's okay, he relaxed, a little. He was on friendly ground, so the Jedi didn't win. Revan was alive and probably not laid up in a med room like he was. He tried to make a fist with one of his hands, but found he was paralyzed. Calm down, he told himself. It's probably something they gave me so I don't aggravate the injuries. That's what he allowed himself to think for now at least.
How stupid was I to let neophyte Jedi get the best of me? He groaned at himself. I allowed myself to get distracted; she's not going to let me live that one down, is she?
Revan raced in and caught Malak's eye and smiled.
Malak tried to smile, but that muscle group was outside of his control.
"Hey," she walked up next to him. "Don't try to talk, okay?"
He reached out with his mind, "What's going on?"
"You took a saber in the worst possible way," she responded telepathically. She lightly stroked his head trying to comfort him.
His eyebrows shot up, "Revan?"
"The slice went through your jaw and a good chunk of your throat," she motioned with her hand slicing up on her throat. "You reflexively tilted your head back, which probably saved your life."
"Why can't I move my arms or legs?"
"The blade nicked your spinal cord, as a result there was nerve damage. The doctors surgically reinforced your spine and nerves with a metal computer component. With a little rehabilitation, you should be as good as new. Better than new," she promised. "The electronic impulses act faster than our Jedi reflexes even."
"Great, so, I'm part droid."
Revan smiled still lightly stroking his head with her fingertips, "I'm glad you are still with me. You saved my life."
"I misjudged and could've killed us both."
"Stop that," she smacked his forehead with her fingertips lightly. "It wasn't your fault they were trying to take us in by force. I cannot believe they would stoop so low. I figured we were in for some sort of reprimand, but…" she shook her head. "This time, they have gone too far."
"What do you have in mind?"
"I've done a little research," she smiled leaning gently next to him on the hospital bed. "I've come across some ancient writings on the Sith."
"Sith?"
"Now, let me explain. All our lives we've been warned not to fall into the Dark Side, being told that the Sith teachings are bad. In addition to that, it seemed I was given even more lectures about my interests in warfare, tactics, fighting…" she rattled off. "I think I understand now. It's all about control and the ability to control the power. Not everybody can control that much power. I don't think everybody was meant to control that amount of power.
"When you are up and about, I have scrolls to show you. They explain several Sith artifacts, items built using 'Sith Sorcery'… they power and function using the Force," her eyes brightened as she discussed her findings. "There is nothing we cannot do if we can harness this power."
"Revan, the war is over."
"Is it? How many more Jedi are going to come after us? The Council won't quit until we give up, hanging our heads in shame. I will not give them that pleasure," she stared off to the distance briefly and then looked back into Malak's eyes.
"Revan, I have never challenged your decisions in battle. Your strategies definitely turned the tide. I'm afraid that we are simply outnumbered," Malak reasoned telepathically.
"I agree. There is an artifact that drew my attention. It's an ancient massive manufacturing facility. Ships and droids generated in record time. It was a Ratakan invention called a 'Star Forge.' It exists out in plain space apparently."
"Plain space is awfully big."
"Obviously. They left these 'Star Maps' that pinpoint the Star Forge's position. Up for an adventure of epic proportions?" Revan studied his eyes.
Malak looked into her glassy gray eyes. "I'd follow you to the Outer Rim and beyond, Revan."
Revan smiled. She traced her fingers down his face grimacing when she saw his injury, "I'll make them pay, I promise."
Three Star Maps Later
"If I ever have to smell wet wookiee again, I will eat my own lightsaber," Revan grumbled examining their latest Star Map.
"Is it enough to pinpoint the Star Forge?" Malak asked.
"Dammit. We have narrowed the field, but it's not narrow enough," Revan shook her head.
"Do you want to go to Manaan or Korriban?"
"Doesn't matter, we will have to go to both," she clenched her hands into fists.
"All this power practically at our fingertips, and we are traipsing across the galaxy chasing it down as if it were a game," Malak crossed his arms over his chest.
"It's the only way," Revan shook her head. She pulled out a bottle from beneath her work area, pouring herself a small glass. She smirked, "I almost offered you a drink."
Malak closed his eyes briefly, "I hope you enjoy amusing yourself at my expense."
"Lighten up, we are coming upon the biggest discovery in ages. They will be reading about us thousands of years from now, galaxies thousands of light years away," she took a sip enjoying the warm liquid trailing down her throat.
"Provided this 'Star Forge' is intact. Time has made an impact on the Maps' shape."
"The Maps have little to no power to them. The Forge is practically held together by dark energies," she smiled. "You know, I overheard the crew referring to you as 'Steel Jaw.' I thought it was cute."
"Cute?" Malak glared at Revan.
Revan laughed at Malak's expression. "Seriously, though. It fits. It looks very much like a 'Dark Lord of the Sith' should."
"I am, but your servant," Malak lifted an eyebrow.
"The title suits you. The metal has a menacing glint to it."
"What about you?"
"Titles mean little to me. Obliterating those who impede my progress means more." She poured herself another glass.
"You have been taking to the bottle more lately," Malak said.
"I suppose you wouldn't understand. I wonder if your head is made from the same steel as your jaw. My mind, it keeps going. I'm constantly working out details, battles, plans, whatever… I even built an assassin droid. I can't get a moment's rest. The Jedi Meditation techniques do not work as well as it used to," she rubbed her forehead.
"Perhaps you need to take a break. You've been battling for several years straight," Malak offered.
"Quiet. You couldn't possibly understand," Revan snapped and then stood. "The Star Forge is our goal, now. Everything else is circumstantial."
"Of course, I was merely concerned," Malak answered gently.
"Stop," she stepped around her desk bringing herself to her full height, which was still a foot below Malak's. "Your concern will only make me appear weak."
"You have nothing to fear," Malak replied looking down.
"I don't fear," Revan whispered. She placed her hands gently on his chest, lightly brushing her hands against him feeling down his sides. She chuckled lightly. "Don't you have something to do, somewhere to be?"
Malak stared back into her eyes, his expression a mixture of hunger and confusion. "Yes, of course."
Two Months After Star Forge's Discovery
Fury ignited Malak's walk. He stormed through the hallways of the ship, troops and workers stepping out of his way.
"I'll inform her myself," Malak had said to Admiral Karath. I'm looking forward to the expression upon her smug overconfident face, the face that could use to be ground into the ship's incinerator.
Her arrogance has made her clumsy. It's time she miss-stepped. Her decisions were borderline insane, and yet she managed to succeed rubbing his face into her victories. He turned a corner within the corridors of the ship, overhearing two mechanics converse.
"Yeah, well, the 'Steel Jaw' might as well be slack jawed. He would be nothing if Revan didn't keep him around. Is he her bodyguard or something?"
"I dunno, Narshe," the other voice ended quietly as Malak turned the corner.
He glanced briefly at their name badges, taking the lapels of the one with the name 'Narshe' and throwing him up against the hull of the ship, knocking him cold.
"Clean it up," Malak instructed to the astonished mechanic.
He approached Revan's door, pausing briefly. He opened the door looking down at a young man whose face paled while Malak stared him down.
"Let him go, Malak," she called out calmly.
Malak kept the glare upon him as the man tried to make himself smaller and squeezed himself out of the doorway and raced down the hall. "Your taste has little discrimination," Malak reported to Revan disapprovingly.
"Ah give Jack a break," Revan placed her lit cigarra down into a tray. She tightened the belt around her black bathrobe, "or was it Jay? So, you forgot how to knock?"
"Urgent news, master," Malak almost sounded pleased.
"Jedi are coming to try and kill me?" She picked the cigarra back up between her fingers.
"There is a pending Republic attack," he paused. "What makes you think that there are Jedi?"
"It's a ridiculously small detachment. That, and I sensed it," she placed the cigarra to her lips as she studied her apprentice. "Please tell me you did too?" She breathed out smoke with her words.
"No, master, I did not."
"Not surprising," she sighed crushing the cigarra out in the tray. "You are a bit of a disappointment as a Jedi apprentice. At least you are easy on the eyes. What makes it interesting is that it seems that the Jedi have developed a student with Battle Meditation. I am quite impressed. I am a bit surprised that they would send it in for my assassination."
Malak clenched his firsts. "We will not allow that to happen."
"Good thing you have the fleet to help back you up on that," Revan taunted with her smile.
"I just came here to notify you," Malak replied dejectedly.
"Great," Revan raised her eyebrows. "Look, you join Saul on the Leviathan. I will make my stand here."
Malak's brow knitted in a frown, "If that is your wish."
"You are not going to argue with me on this? We are missing out on so much fun," she did little to hide the sarcasm in her voice.
"If there is nothing else," Malak started.
"Yes, there is one thing," Revan began. "The Jedi with Battle Meditation is a threat. I will do what I can to dispatch him or her. Make sure he or she doesn't make it out alive."
Malak nodded. "I should get back to the Leviathan."
"Good," Revan nodded. Malak spun on his heel and headed out the door.
Revan studied the door after it had been closed for several seconds. "You know, HK, I do believe he is going to try to kill me."
"Offer: Let me kill him first," the metallic voice resonated within a darkened corner of her quarters.
Revan snickered softly. "No. Not this time."
"Observation: The meatbag seems to cause nothing but anger in you, Master. I do not see why you allow him to continue to function."
"Meatbag, huh?" Revan giggled. "I like that."
"Proud Response: I live to serve."
"No, don't kill him. And if something were to happen to me, your programming would cause you to shut down, until a new master is determined. I doubt Malak would reactivate you," she said thoughtfully.
"Observation: It appears that my master wishes to die."
"Everybody dies or ceases to function," Revan shrugged. "I'm tired, HK. I think I need a break, but I don't know how to take one. I'd rather die than go mad."
Several Hours Later
Revan took her position on the bridge looking outside at her fleet. She saw the Leviathan, knowing Malak and Karath's quiet conversations. She crossed her arms over her chest waiting until the Jedi clamor aboard the bridge.
I'm offering them up for you. Take us all out. You should know when to take the shot. Go with your feelings, meatbag. She grinned to herself.
She heard the door to the bridge crash open. She activated her lightsaber and turned to her would be assassins. She made a display of her skills, waving her saber threateningly grinning under her mask. Come on, she urged silently.
The four approached cautiously, lead by a very young slim brunette. Her lightsaber already extended, she bravely took steps towards Revan.
It's you. So talented and young with such heavy responsibility, Revan thought. Come closer, the time is now. The Jedi stepped slowly towards her engaging in a few blows knocking Revan back towards the wall of the ship.
Malak, we are in your sights, take your damn shot now! Revan groaned as the attacking Jedi stepped back, and the ship shook violently. Bastila and Revan crumpled to the ground.
Malak, you…
Bastila lifted her head up, looking around. She heard alarms and the boots of people scrambling. She closed her eyes and reopened them, focusing around her.
"Bastila, let's go!"
"Hold on," she crawled towards her opponent. She reached out to gently lift the mask of the woman's face.
"…moron," Revan whispered.
"Bastila, the hull is breeched, we don't have any time!"
"Just a second, she's… she's breathing," she said.
"She won'tonce the ship blows," one of her team runs up to her.
Bastila chews on her lip, nods slowly and moves to stand. She attempts to turn away, but something pulls her to the woman in front of her.
"Bastila!" the desperate Jedi called out to her.
"We have to take her with us. I can't explain it... She... We just need to save her!" She sputtered. "Help me!"
"There's no time!"
"We save her, or I die with her. How would you like to explain to the council how you lost the Battle Meditation edge I have offered the Republic? Help me now!"
The reluctant team helped her hoist Revan, pulling her onto the ship. Bastila sat by her side doing what she could do to keep Revan alive.
"Now what?"
"I don't know," Bastila replied. "It's for the Council to decide."