W/N - Thank you so much again, Jen. You're really inspiring us to write better and go deeper into the emotional aspect. Back to Bastila. I wrote this with some unpleasant survival school memories. I also heard a few POW's speak and got a glimpse into the misery of captivity.

Other Malarkey - Meetings...meetings. I did get out to the training area to join some of the guys in a fire and maneuver exercise and got to "jock up" with body armor, kevlar, and NVG's to throw lead downrange.

Fallen Angel

The Leviathan – 28 Days Ago

Bastila lay broken on the deck as Malak stood over her. She could just vaguely see him, hands on hips, gloating. Her sienna robes were shredded about her crumpled form and she moaned pathetically. Even Saul's torture couldn't compare to the agony she felt. She searched through a swollen eye for her lightsaber that lay a short distance away. There it was, she could reach it. She could still fight. If only she could get that weapon. Aerin had to get away – everything depended on it. The battered Jedi reached out with a quivering hand – a hand with fingers twisted in unnatural angles – for her weapon.

Ever so painfully the fingers crawled toward the silver cylinder, without hope of victory, without hope of survival, but with a single minded desperation.

Just as Bastila's fingers touched the lightsaber, Malak stooped and picked it up like a fallen toy. She saw the weapon move away and she wanted to shriek in frustration, but she thought her jaw was broken. A frigid gale of laughter churned from his voice synthesizer and he kicked her in the gut like an angry master would kick an ill-behaved Kath pup. A sickening crunch filled the room followed by the sounds of gurgling. Why didn't he just kill her? She knew he just wanted to prolong her suffering. She looked up, her vision blurry and imagined Malak as the young Jedi, tall and blond, in the Academy on Dantooine…before it was destroyed. Now, her entire world had been destroyed. No one was left – Master Vandar, Master Zhar, Master Vrook…all probably dead or slaves of the Sith. She was alone.

Ragged breaths escaped from Bastila's split lip and she mumbled incoherently as Malak picked her up by the hair. She whimpered as follicles tore from her scalp. He brought her up to his face and looked into one, unfocused eye; the other now swollen shut.

"Brave Bastila," he mused, holding her as one holds a dead and rotting animal. "You surprised me. I expected you to flee like the coward you are and leave Revan to her fate."

The Padawan looked as if she were about to say something and Malak cocked his head to listen. Her lips quivered for a moment and then she spat blood on the Dark Lord's face. He dropped her like a sack of trash and she crashed onto the deck. As he put his heavy boot on her face, his commlink chimed. Malak stepped away and Bastila sobbed painfully.

"What is it?" she heard the Dark Lord ask impatiently.

"M'Lord, this is Captain Dessler, I am afraid the fugitives have escaped in their vessel. Admiral Karath is dead." Bastila's heart skipped a beat. Maybe there was still hope, not for her, but for the Republic. Unable to move, she watched and listened intently.

Malak furrowed his brows. "Where have they gone? Find them!" he roared.

"M'Lord, I have intelligence that they are enroute to the Bastion System," Dessler told him and Bastila held her breath – Aerin's trick had worked. They were heading the wrong way.

Malak grunted. "Very well, set course, Admiral Dessler…. And admiral, send a security team to me to pick up some refuse."

Shortly, a team of Sith troopers arrived and picked up the semi-conscious Jedi by her limbs. Her broken bones grinded, shooting white hot pain through her body. Let me die, she thought, over and over, but knew worse things were in store for her. They carried her down to the lower decks where the brig was located. An officer in a black uniform looked her over as the troopers paraded by. "What is…that?"

A sergeant shrugged. "She's one of the Jedi, who tried to escape. Lord Malak worked her over pretty good. You can't even recognize her."

They carted her off to a row of cells past one containing Major Kyle Durren. Weakly, she turned her head and saw him with her one eye. They made eye contact and he bolted up and smashed into the force field. With a zap, he fell backwards with a grunt. Shaking his head, he rose again. Bastila let out an inhuman moan, her lips unable to form words. No, not him too. It can't be. Not him!

"Bastila! Bastila!" she heard Kyle cry. "What did you do to her, you animals? You'll pay for this, I swear! Bastila!"

The troopers put the Jedi on the metal floor and departed, activating the force field. The sergeant looked at Kyle condescendingly. "Not bloody likely, Republic. You'll both die here." Bastila knew that this was very likely. They had beat the odds, time and again, escaping from Malak's grasp. But this time, luck had run out.

Kyle beat his fists on the ground and screamed her name again. Bastila moved her hand weakly to try and communicate, but could only make gurgling noises.

"Bastila, please hang on. I'm going to save us. Bastila, I love you! Stay with me!" she heard him yell. Yes, she loved him too. She could never tell him this and now that she wanted to, her body was too broken to speak the words. She knew how badly she had treated him, hot one minute and cold the next. She saw the pain in his eyes when her chilly side took over. She wished she could take it all back…have a second chance. She would give everything in the world to tell him that she loved him.

Beyond her sight, a monitor in a dark chamber in another part of the ship showed this agonizing drama. Malak and Sion watched Kyle's anguish with great interest and delight. Sion stood in black, loose fitting trousers, his bare chest rippling with muscles. The strongest of the rebellious Jedi's skin was gray and now mottled with cracks and open sores; the Dark Side of the Force was slowly consuming his body. He glared at Kyle through the monitor.

"Lord Malak, allow me to crush this pathetic creature."

"No, he will serve a greater good. Look how he fawns over Bastila…. He is in love…how touching." They laughed, a wicked laugh full of malice and devoid of pity.

In the Cell

A remote entered Bastila's cell and sprayed her wounds with Bacta. The soothing liquid coated her bruises and cuts as the remote injected her with healing chemicals…along with other things. Bastila winced when the needle punctured her skin and she stirred. Her good eye focused on the remote and she rolled away, but the sphere had done its work. The Jedi tried weakly to grab the floating droid, but it sped off before she could move.

"Bastila! Are you okay? Talk to me!" She heard Kyle yell. Oh, her body ached and her head throbbed. Her one good eye was still blurry and she could barely move her arms.

She looked around like a caged wild animal until she saw him in the next cell. She vaguely recalled now seeing him and thinking about him, but when was it? How long had they been here? "Kyle…you're alive. Where's Malak?" She was somewhat surprised that she could speak. Her jaw worked, sore as it was.

He shook his head. "I don't know. I was captured covering the team's escape."

Tears flowed down Bastila's bruised cheeks and she cried, a desperate, hopeless cry of defeat. Her throat was raw and dry and ached with each sob. She remembered now that Revan knew the truth. Even if they had escaped, what would Revan do? It was likely that she would once again become Dark Lord of the Sith. Now, without the Jedi to oppose her, she would take Coruscant like candy from a baby. "All is lost, Kyle. We are doomed. The Council…the Republic…all doomed."

"No! Don't talk like that. We'll get out of this. I swear I'll save us."

Bastila screamed in frustration, her lips and throat on fire. "You don't understand, dammit!" she swore uncharacteristically. "Aerin…Aerin Dakar is Revan."

"What?" Kyle asked, his face going blank. "How is that possible? Revan is dead."

Bastila explained how they had gotten to that point with the exception of the search for the Star Forge. "The Council felt she could be redeemed. I helped to convince them. Now that she knows the truth…she will fall. We will all fall…into darkness for centuries."

"No Bastila, I refuse to believe that. We must have hope."

Hope? There was no hope here. It had been abandoned once she had entered this place. Malak's cruelty was well known and she expected to be the victim of it soon. Then, she noticed the Bacta taking effect, healing her. Why would they treat her? Was it just to give her false hope? As Bastila's bruises faded and her bones and sinews knitted, a strange and different feeling began to creep into her flesh. It started as a tingling sensation and progressed into a horrible itch. It was like her skin was peeling off, layer by layer. She started to scratch furiously and Kyle called, "Bastila, what's happening?"

The droid injected something else into her system. Kyle's cries of support were useless as the Jedi spent a sleepless night in agony.

Ten Days Later

Dark circles ringed Bastila's eyes after more than a week of sleepless nights. She was numb, unable to think or focus. Her face was pale and she looked more like the dead than the living. Her mouth hung open and drool cascaded onto the deck as she blinked unseeing eyes at the intense lights.

"Bastila!" a distant voice called, sounding like it came from underwater.

The Jedi mumbled something incoherent and put some mushy food in her mouth. Slop dripped down her chin and coated matted, tangled hair. Suddenly, the sound of boots grew louder and troopers deactivated the field of Bastila's cell. They seized her amid Kyle's protests and hauled her off. She was brought to a chamber with a reddish glow and strapped, arm and leg, to a metal table. Bastila's eyes darted around in fearful panic as Malak entered with Sion and Darth Moritz in tow. This was the moment she had feared.

Gathering her wits, the Jedi tried to put on a brave face. Her body was healed now for whatever nefarious purpose they had for her. "Malak, you'll never learn anything from me. It's useless to try; the Council taught me too well," she said in that old, haughty tone that had offended so many people. It was her only defense now.

Without any response, Moritz leaned over Bastila's face. The inhuman, red-haired woman turned her artificial, electronic blue eye at the Padawan, giving her a chill down her spine. "Bastila, it has been such a long time. It is so good to see you," the nearly mechanized woman said as one does to a dear friend. Malak's head of internal security had a reputation for breaking people without ever raising her voice. Bastila knew her when they were at the Academy together…when she was human.

Moritz placed metal probes into Bastila's flesh and the Padawan screamed, straining her limbs against the restraints. Chemicals flowed into Bastila's body and she twitched uncontrollably, her filthy, soiled robes flapping against her form. It was like they were turning her inside out. She fought to keep her sanity…fought to keep her dignity, but it was a losing battle. Then the feeling subsided.

As Bastila groaned, Malak stood over her and sniffed. Bastila could feel a warm wetness between her legs – she had soiled herself. "She smells terrible. Give her a bath," he said, pinching his nose. Now, her dignity was gone and her sanity sure to follow.

She tried to take herself away, send her mind elsewhere, find somewhere to hide. Her mind reached out through her bond, but she could only find blurry images. As she sifted through the mental pictures, she saw Aerin, dressed as a Sith adept, chanting the dark code. No…no! It can't be true! All hope came collapsing down. Revan had truly returned and now, it was only a matter of time before the end…an end that would find her bereft of reason and begging for death. Her eyes found Malak's and she pleaded for the end without having to say it, but his eyes told her that this was just the beginning.

Guards ripped her filthy and tattered robes from her body and brought out a hose. Bastila closed her eyes as jets of water flayed her skin.

In the Cell

Bastila lay in a dark cell, bare, upon a bare metal floor. She couldn't see the hand in front of her face. She vaguely recalled being sprayed with water and dragged back to the cell block. A Force collar was about her neck and she tugged at it in vain. Dripping icy water, she was freezing and her breath came out in steam. The floor was hard and cold and she had never been so miserable in her life. She looked around for something sharp – maybe there was a way to end it all.

Then, a portal opened and Sith troopers hurled someone in. In the moment in which light entered the room, she could see it was Kyle. He hit the floor roughly and Bastila called to him. In the dark, they fumbled toward each other until their hands met. Kyle wrapped her up in an embrace. He was so warm. His touch never felt so good.

"I was so worried. What did they do to you, Bastila?"

The Jedi shivered, both from the cold and terror. "Please, Kyle…please…I can't last much longer," she said, her voice husky with desperation. "We are lost…Aerin has fallen. I saw her, Kyle, I saw her…in Sith robes, chanting the Sith Code." There was no hope left, but if he could just hold on to her for a while longer, nothing else mattered. They would all die, but all she wanted was a little while longer.

He stroked her freshly washed hair with a gentle hand. "I've got you, Bastila. We'll survive this. Don't worry about Aerin…we need to focus on us."

He held her tenderly as she spent another sleepless night in pain. Then, the troopers returned for her.

For countless days, the cycle continued as Bastila's will eroded. Her Jedi training was soon to be no match for the Dark Lord's will. As they sat, huddled in the lightless cell, the thrum of the hyperdrive became silent. Bastila knew they had stopped, but where? And why? Sith troopers entered and blindfolded them and they were dragged in cages to a shuttle. Whatever was happening would happen soon.

The vessel departed the Leviathan and descended through an atmosphere to a beautiful, tropical planet. The shuttle powered thrusters and landed on an ancient temple, where Malak and his forces levitated the cages into the structure. What was this place? Is this where Malak had his secret facility? The hapless prisoners were again taken to a lightless cell, this time made of stone.

In a Nearby Room

Nearby, the Sith watched the two over a monitor. "It is almost over," voiced Moritz with pride.

"Excellent," replied Malak, "I shall enjoy every moment." He thrummed his fingers on his metal mask, observing the two lovers with the night vision camera. He snorted as they clung to each other in the dark, so afraid and so alone. He remembered how self righteous Bastila had been on Dantooine and it brought him great joy to see her humbled. Surely, he had wiped that 'holier than thou' look from her face. This is what it meant to be a Sith – lesser beings would bow to you and know their place. Well, there was so much more to come…so much more and the show was just getting started.

In the Cell

Bastila tried to remember how many days they had been captives. It was impossible to tell – somewhere between twenty and thirty, she thought…maybe forty? For her, the days were blurry periods of pain and humiliation. Everything that held meaning being a Jedi had been stripped away – honor, courage, dignity, even her robes of office. If she could only get some sleep she would feel stronger. Maybe they might have some hope. As they lay upon the stone floor, Kyle held Bastila closely. "Use my warmth, Bastila. Try to get some sleep."

Her brain was in shambles. She couldn't think or focus. Even Kyle's voice sounded tinny, like it came through a tunnel. "I…I can't…. I haven't slept in weeks…. I'm so…so tired…so exhausted."

He caressed her cheek and it felt so good. His warmth was like a beacon in a dark and lonely night. "Bastila, I want you to know how much I love you. Let me be your strength. Remember the first time we kissed…made love?"

The Jedi choked back tears. Yes, she could remember. How could she not remember? She felt in the darkness and found his face and imagined his features. In her tired mind, she could see his smile and his bright eyes. Her fingers glided along his lips and down to his neck. "Kyle…I'm so afraid…. I need you. I…I love you." There, she had said it and it felt so good. It was all that she had left in this world. Their lips met in the dark and Bastila abandoned what strength she had to passion.

When the soldiers came for her the next day, her strength was renewed. She had slept for the first time in weeks. What she and Kyle did last night brought her hope and strength. As long as she had his love to hang onto, she could fight. As she was strapped to the table, she glared defiantly at Malak and Moritz.

"You seem stronger, Bastila," mused Malak. "Perhaps we haven't been treating you properly." Bastila could see the frustration in his eyes. All of this effort and he was getting nowhere. He would eventually have to turn his attention back to the war and then, they might have a chance.

"Your tortures cannot defeat the power of the Light Side, Malak," she stated in an even voice. Her will was returning…growing in the love that she had found in the darkest of places. She might yet survive.

With an impatient snort, Moritz inserted the probes into Bastila's skin and green fluids poured through clear tubes. The Jedi's agony was far less and she grit her teeth instead of screaming.

Malak shook his head, looking angrily at Moritz. "This is not working! I am running out of time. Throw her back with that imbecile; we must find another way."

As the troopers dragged the Jedi away, a faint smile graced her lips; she was winning this battle of wills.

In the Cell

Despite her exhaustion, Bastila snuggled in Kyle's arms. Warmth flowed through her body and she felt safe despite the situation. Even the luxurious bed at the Ocean Spray Hotel could not compare to the softness of his chest as she lay her head on him.

"I'm so sorry I can't stop them, Bastila. I want to protect you," Kyle said, his voice more welcome than a sunrise. Though it was pitch black, she knew his face was full of concern. She knew that look from Manaan when she sensed that he had an interest in her. She had never dated, never saw men as objects of affection. She thought back to how foolishly she had acted in her ignorance.

She ran the back of her hand gently against his chest, feeling his hairy body. "I know…it's okay. I'm growing in strength again. We're going to survive this, Kyle…," she said with growing confidence. Malak was tiring of this game and would let his guard down. All they had to do was find the opening – they had done it before. "I love you so much. The Council never taught us of love. They denounced it, said it was weakness. I see now how wrong they were; it's given me so much strength," she murmured as her passions were ignited. She turned and mounted him, grasping his hands in hers. She leaned forward, kissing him softly at first and then more deeply. Even in the darkest of places she never felt so alive.

Later that Night

As the perspiration on their bodies cooled, Bastila leaned onto Kyle, wanting to be close to him. She touched her lips to his ear, whispering, "I love you. We will survive." Her body felt relaxed and a drowsy feeling took hold of her. Kyle gently let her down and cradled her in his arms. She imagined his smile and bright eyes as she fell into slumber.

Her mind drifted off into dream and she felt herself floating. She drifted off through the galaxy, wandering between systems until she came to Korriban. She watched from above a dusty valley as Aerin and the team stood against a Sith assault. Armored troops hurled themselves against Aerin's defenses and they were beaten in a desperate struggle. Bastila rejoiced. "Revan has not fallen! We will triumph and Malak will be stopped."

Suddenly, Bastila awoke from the dream. She was disoriented, thinking the dream real for a moment. But…it was real. She had seen Aerin through the bond. Aerin had not fallen. All was not lost. Then, she noticed that a light shined into the cell from an open door. She reached around for Kyle, but he was not there.

"Kyle," she called urgently, but there was no response. Where was he? She reached around, trying to feel for him, but there was only cold, stone floor.

She crawled to the portal and the lights blinded her momentarily. Her head swam as if she were shrouded in cotton. The Jedi staggered out of the cell on unsure feet, wary of her sudden freedom. A Dark Jedi lay dead on the floor, a lightsaber clutched in her hand.

Kyle must have done this…but why did he leave me? He must be securing an escape!

Bastila's heart surged with hope and she picked up the weapon and took the Dark Jedi's robes to cover her body. The robes fit perfectly as she pulled them over her torso and down her legs. Her breath quickened as she headed down the hall, which opened up to a view of a spectacular, azure sea. Alien structures towered above the water in the distance and Bastila's eyes widened. She again shook her head, the dizziness and confusion growing despite her attempts to focus.

She hurried on, hope and fear growing in her. Kyle, where are you? I am coming. She passed through an opening and her heart dropped.

"Malak…." No, not when they were this close. She would not allow herself to be captured again. Her mind seemed fuzzy, but she willed herself to focus.

The Dark Lord turned and began to step toward her. "Bastila…."

His arms were spread and lightning danced on his fingertips. She would not be captured again. Her mind raced, trying to think of the best attack, but rage drove her on now. With a cry of anger, Bastila powered the crimson blade and struck him down. Malak screamed and collapsed at her feet. She had done it, she had emerged victorious. It would all be ok now. Then, the Jedi staggered, her head spinning. She summoned all that remained of her strength and blinked hard.

There, at her feet, lay Kyle, cloven by the power of her weapon.

"Kyle!" she shrieked as she dropped the lightsaber and cradled his head. No, this was just a nightmare. This was not real. Blood spurted up through his cauterized wound and sprayed on her face. No, this was just a nightmare.

He looked up into her eyes and sputtered through bloody lips. "Bastila…I…I'll always…love you." His bright eyes began to grow dark.

Bastila shrieked again and tore her fingers into her scalp. "No! No, Kyle, it'll be alright. Kyle!"

But her words fell of dead ears.

The Jedi fell to her knees and pounded the cold, stone floor. Her voice was inhuman, feral. When her hands were bloody and raw, she reached with quivering, hopeless hands for the lightsaber and put the emitter in her mouth. She couldn't live any longer. She had slain the only man she ever loved. She would now cheat cruel destiny of its final joke on her.

Before she could power the lightsaber, a bolt of lightning struck her and she jiggled under its fury. Her limbs frozen in agony, only a silent scream came from her lips. The Jedi rolled over, dazed and helpless as Malak entered. Bastila reached weakly for the lightsaber, but Malak picked it up as if it were a discarded toy.

Bastila's sobs came in uneven, ragged breaths. "Kill me, Malak…kill me."

The Dark Lord touched her gently on the cheek, caressing her. "My poor friend, so much pain…so much despair. I cannot kill you. There is so much more for you to do…my fallen angel…my apprentice."