Meetra isn't ready. She never has been.

Combat has always come easily to the Jedi Exile, through her travels on the Ebon Hawk, on her journey of self-discovery, Meetra with her friends and followers behind her could defeat anything the Force threw at them. Back then, when everything was at stake, Meetra hadn't a care for her own life, it was always about the others. Always.

But now, nothing of true importance to her is at stake, and she's fighting with people she either doesn't know or can barely remember.

Kreia, Darth Traya, whatever her crew wanted to call the woman, was someone who hated the Force. She hated that it had a will, drove people to do things, and she wanted to destroy it. For a long time, Meetra couldn't understand that hatred, and in the depths of Malachor V she ended her mentor once and for all.

Now, Meetra understands.

It was the Force that willed her and her crew on their journey, and the will of the Force that allowed Meetra to be victorious. But it was also the Force that left Meetra awake night after night, in so much pain that he couldn't even help her with. It was a throbbing pain, in her back, in an unknown place, where something slid into the spot perfectly, tearing her flesh apart, making the cells burn and explode and causing the wound to cauterize. It was the Force that led her to this dark place. It wasn't enough, Meetra realizes, that she saved it. The galaxy, it is tied to Revan, and so is she. Instead of a life where she fights easily as a Jedi for the Republic, with a husband, or a daughter she could train and raise, it is this Force-forsaken place, that reeks of death that has already happened and death that is about to come.

She never wanted to leave him behind. He loved her. She loved him. Some said that was all you needed for a happy ending.

Her thoughts trail back to him now, as she fights. He's probably lost in a cantina somewhere on Coruscant, playing pazaak or drinking juma juice and remembering her all the while. She remembers how it felt when he wrapped his arms, one durasteel and one real, around her. She remembers how it felt when they'd made love for the first and last time. Where they'd lain together, and dreamed, because back then there was a future to look forward to.

You draw 2, I draw 5. You draw 6, I draw 1. Totals are 8-6. You draw 10, I draw 7. I happen to have a special double in my hand, and I play it, bringing my total to 20…

It's best the "Emperor" can't reach Meetra. As he said, play pazaak.

She remembers when he taught her pazaak, in her head. "Because you'll be right here with me, playing pazaak, where they can't reach you," he'd told her then, and she'd never forgotten it.

This was the destiny the Force had laid out for Meetra, but she still can't accept it.

Revan had listened to it, and so did Meetra. She could not bring anyone she loved on her journey. She can't doubt the Force, but wants to know what would have happened if she had brought him along for one last ride. Would their destinies have changed?

It is getting close to the endgame, now. Both sides are weakening. She senses Revan going on the offensive, his mask revealing nothing even though emotions are pouring out from him in the Force. It's the endgame, and soon, all will be as the Force willed it.

Meetra knows they're going to lose. She sees Scourge, staring out into nothingness, face impassive, deflecting blows every now and then. He is not playing pazaak, so she knows that he's experiencing a vision like she had. She's seeing him make his choice, the same way she had to make hers.

Scourge positions himself behind her, and Meetra's heart races, as she struggles to stand, and keep fighting, and pretending she doesn't know what's going to happen next.

Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Numbers, seconds, taunting her of a goodbye that she won't be able to have.

I love you, Her mind breathes, broadcasting the thought across the galaxy to one person only. She hopes he'll hear her, and understand that she's waiting for him, and will never forget-

Zero.

She expected it to be like the dream, where the pain deafened her, made her want to scream. But this, this was different. As Scourge's lightsaber slides effortlessly into her back, Meetra feels it, and she lets herself fall. There is pain, but it's warm, and a bit loving, like Atton is wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close.