The courtyard in the center of the Enclave still lay in ruins, but it was not dead. Not yet. New growth had sprung up from the ashes, overrunning the polished silver and ochre stones, filling the dry beds of the broken fountains. In the center, where a mighty tree had once stood, two small saplings had sprung up beside the massive, blackened stump of the original. "It is…different, it has been some time," Kreia whispered, leaning down and placing a hand on what remained of the low wall encircling the central garden bed. "Forgive me, but I need to rest," she said, sitting down on the low wall. "Go on…the Council awaits. I will remain here."

The Exile's eyes widened slightly. "You're afraid," she said gently. It wasn't a question.

"Yes," Kreia replied, "afraid for you, as I have always been. I will be fine here…whatever answers the Council have are for you alone."

"Are you alright?" her pupil asked.

"I am…tired," Kreia admitted. "The journey has been a long one, and I need to center myself." After a moment, the Exile nodded and walked away, deeper into the Enclave, her steps sending ashes and fallen leaves swirling, much like how the Force swirled around her. "Know that much may happen here, but above all, do not forget this—" Kreia said softly, knowing the Exile could still hear her words, "—you may trust in me. We cradle each other's lives, and what threatens one of us, threatens us both. And if you find you cannot trust me, trust in your training. Trust in yourself. Never doubt what you have done. All your decisions have brought you to this point. And now, perhaps, they shall see what you have become."

Those who knew her true self would have said it was just another manipulation, another lie. That she didn't really care. They would be wrong. Kreia cared for one thing, and one thing only: her students. And none more so than the young woman who she'd come to love as family, of a sort.

As she sat in the ruined courtyard, for once in her long life just content to sit and enjoy this last shining moment of both inner and outer peace, she could hear the Exile arguing with the foolishly short-sighted Jedi Council through their connection. Her gaze turned to the trees. The massive stump in the center was dead and colorless, just like most non-living things were when seen through the Force. Only the faintest flicker of light remained there, a reminder of the Enclave's prouder days. Much like the Jedi Council, she reflected. So mighty and arrogant, so sure of themselves, and yet brought so low, slain in their cradle of power. The small saplings, on the other hand, glowed with life and vitality. So young, so fragile, and so filled with the promise of hope and rebirth. Much like the Exile's students, springing up from the ruin of the old order to forge the new.

In the back of her mind, she heard the conversation turn to the death of Katarr. Interested, Kreia focused on listening, widening her connection to the Exile enough to hear more clearly.

::When we felt Katarr die, there is something we felt, something we'd felt once before. An echo in the Force. We'd felt it before when you stood before us. Whatever this threat, whatever this hunger is, it is something tied to you, something you have experienced directly. ::

::So it is me?::

::No, we do not believe so, but it is tied to you somehow.::

::I felt it on Dxun::

::It was in the ground at Dantooine::

::It echoed in the ruins on Korriban::

::And in the wastelands of Telos::

A swirl of movement in front of her interrupted her focus. Annoyed, she looked up to 'see' the blind Seer. "And so you wait, as a shadow," the Miraluka commented.

"Yes, we are alike that way, blinded one," Kreia replied.

"I would have thought you would walk with her among the Jedi," she said. Her voice took on a harsh edge. "But that is not the way of the Sith, is it?"

"Do not speak to me of the ways of the Sith," Kreia snarled. "You of all of us have no conception of what it means to be Sith. I have watched you hunger, and doubt, and drown in fear, and I have born it all silently. I have felt your lusts, and your longing, and that spark of hope... and longed to crush it. You could have been strong. There is a core in you where light shall never touch."

And with that, she grabbed the blinded one's mind with the Force and wrenched it into unconsciousness. Subtly and carefully, of course. Blinded indeed. She cannot hear—and for all her power, she could never truly see.

Then, she got up and began walking towards the Council Chamber—or what remained of it—resuming her focus on the confrontation within.

::If we die, it wins, no matter what fleets or weapons are brought against it.::

::Why did you cast me out of the Order?::

::Because you followed Revan to war. There was no other reason.::

::No, there was another reason. You had become different, somehow changed. The war had changed you.::

::And if you had stayed, you would have changed us—and that we cannot allow.::

They were so rigid, so inflexible. It would be their downfall. It already had been.

::Changed you? What do you mean?::

::You already know the answer.::

::Have you noticed that when you act, others follow? Those that travel with you…they follow you without question, without hesitation.::

::Against their instincts, and sometimes against their sense.::

::It is because you are a leader…but that still fails to grasp the meaning of what I am trying to tell you.::

::So explain yourself::

::Surely you are familiar with Force Bonds?::

::You make connections through the Force, and it resonates with those who travel with you. The resonance is even greater when they, too, are Force-sensitive.::

::You draw others to you, especially those strong in the Force.::

::When you suffer, their spirit echoes it. And when they are in pain, their pain becomes yours.::

::Is this going somewhere?::

::This bond…it travels both ways. When you feel strong pain, or emotion, it resonates within you. And that is why the Mandalorian Wars echo within you still.::

::We did not cut you off from the Force. You were merely deafened to it, because of that last battle.::

::The screams of thousands, Jedi and Mandalorians, crushed by the planet's gravity.::

::Their lives still scream across the surface of that dead planet - and within you. To hear the Force over such pain... it is not possible. It was too much for any Jedi to endure... and it is a wonder that you did not die there when thousands perished, all those you had fought with and struggled with. You cut yourself off, because you had to if you were to survive. You had hints of it on Dxun. Malachor was simply the final blow.::

So this was the truth, at last. The Exile had cut herself off…she had stared into the very heart of the Force, and denied it. Instinctively. Unconsciously. Despite herself, Kreia felt a flickering of hope. Perhaps here, at last, was the answer.

::You were deafened.::

"At last, you could hear," Kreia whispered both into the Exile's mind and aloud.

::You were broken.::

"You were whole"

::You were blinded.::

"And, at last, you saw."

::You carry all those deaths at Malachor with you, and it has left a hunger, a hole that cannot be filled.::

::In you, we saw a wound in the Force.::

::In you, we saw the end of the Force.::

"Finally," Kreia whispered, almost too soft to hear.

::My connection to the Force is stronger than ever!::

::Yes…you can feel the Force, but you cannot feel yourself. You are a cipher, forming bonds, leeching the life of others, siphoning their will and dominating them. It is the teaching of these new Sith, to feed on others, on other Force Sensitives. They are symptomatic of the wound in the Force. You are a breach that must be closed. You transmit your pain, your suffering through the Force. Within you, we see something worse than merely the teachings of the Sith. Within you, we see the Death of the Force…and the death of the Jedi.::

::I am strong, stronger than I ever was.::

::So you think. It is not the strength of a Jedi you feel.::

::He's right. It's…all the death you've caused to get here. You feed on it, and you grow stronger. You're like Malachor…it's in you, it's what you are now.::

::You must have noticed as you fought across all those planets, killing hundreds—only to become more and more powerful. Why did you think that was?::

::But what's worse, is that bonding you have—it hasn't gone away. It's gotten stronger, and the more attachments you form, the more you draw others to you.::

::And that is why you are a threat to us all.::

::A threat?::

::What if other Jedi went to war as you did, suffered the same events, and emerged as you did? What if there was a crucible that trained such Jedi to consume and kill?::

::For you, Malachor was that crucible.::

::What's worse, is that these Sith we face… I fear they have learned the lesson of Malachor all too well. It is what allows them to prey on Force users, to become stronger when Force Sensitives are near.::

::Somehow, they have learned their hunger from you. And so you have brought about the end of the Jedi, and perhaps all the knowledge of the Force.::

The fools. The Jedi were fading already, and that hunger… there were spirits in the Galaxy whose hunger could never be sated. He was such a thing, more a force of hunger than a living being, and he had come from Malachor just as the Exile had.

::But it is of no consequence. Your ability to make such connections, such bonds, so easily are why you cannot remain.::

::You are a threat to living creatures, and all who feel the Force.::

::You will lead the Sith here. And that we cannot allow.::

::Our judgement before remains, Exile. You must leave… and you must leave without your tie to the Force.::

No.

Kreia stood and stalked towards the chamber, gathering her power around herself like a misty cloak. Her full power, kept carefully buried all this time. No more. Not with so much at stake. The time for hiding was over; they had, even in their indolence, forced her hand.

"Enough!"

A wave of pure Force erupted from her, sweeping up the Jedi Masters and hurling them against the back wall of the council chamber. As their focus on the Exile shattered, the younger woman let out a harsh, gasping breath and slumped to the ground. "Step away from her," Kreia snarled, pulling down her hood at long last.

One of the Jedi shouted something and tried to rush forward, but he was banished back against the chamber wall with barely a thought. "Step away! She has brought truth, and you condemn it?" she snapped. "You will not harm her. You will not harm her ever again." I will die a thousand deaths before I allow you to lay a hand on her.

"I thought you had died in the Mandalorian Wars…" Kavar mused.

"Die? No—" Kreia snarled. "—became stronger, yes."

"Is this your new master, Exile," Vrook, ever the bore, demanded. Ignoring the fact that the target of his wrath was unconscious and therefore unable to hear him. "If so, then you follow Revan's path. Her teachings will cause you to fall as surely as she did."

"We sought to lure the Sith out… and now they have come to us," Zez-Kai Ell said.

"Did you not hear its call on Dantooine, Vrook, on its scarred surface and in the minds of the settlers? I have endured your corruption of my other students—you shall not have this one." Kreia snapped. "And you, Kavar, so close to the call of Dxun - tell me you did not feel what poured from the moon, what had taken place there. And Zez-Kai Ell, to hide upon Nar Shaddaa, yet blind yourself to all that happens there. So close to understanding the Force... so close to giving it up. How could you ever hope to know the threat you face, when you have never walked in the dark places of the Galaxy—faced war and death on such a scale? If you had traveled far enough, rather than waiting for the echo to reach you, perhaps you would have seen it for what it was."

She sighed and shook her head. They would never learn, but the teacher in her drove her to keep talking, to explain the true depths of their ignorance. "Revan knew the power of such places… and the power in making them. They can be used to break the will of others… of Jedi, promising them power, and turning them to darkness. Did you never wonder how Revan corrupted so many of the Jedi, so much of the Republic, so quickly? The Mandalorian Wars masked another war, a war of conversion, culminating in a final atrocity that no Jedi could walk away from… save one." Only the Exile. Only the woman who had looked into the blazing heart of the Force, into death itself, saw it for what it truly was… and denied it.

"And that," she continued, kneeling down next to her pupil, "is what I sought to understand. How one could turn away from such power, give up the Force… and still live. But I see what happened now," she added, softly stroking the Exile's brow. "It is because you were afraid." And that fear, which Jedi are taught to abhor and reject, saved you, my beautiful Exile.

She stood and gathered her power around herself again. "As you would pass judgement on her, so I have come to pass judgement on you all. Do you wish to feel the teachings born of the Mandalorian Wars?" Kreia demanded, knowing that they would never, could never understand. Not even now. "Of all wars, of all tragedies that scream across the Galaxy? Let me show you—you, who have forever seen the Galaxy through the Force."

She paused for a moment, then continued. "See it through the eyes of the Exile."

And Kreia reached out, grabbed their connections to the Force, and twisted, breaking the link, tearing the astral bonds apart, shattering what made them live and breathe and think and what bound their very being together.

And all fell silent.