The Sojourn flashed into space high above Malachor V. They were still establishing orbit when the first message came in to the Admiral. The heavy energies on the surface had filled it with distortion but its meaning was clear.
"Who was that?" Mical asked, his voice filled with concern.
"Look," Carth sighed, "Just because I promised to keep you Jedi hidden and safe didn't mean I was going to send her in there alone. She's being tailed by one of the best warriors I've ever worked with. He's cloaked and she doesn't know he's there but if she gets in real trouble he's there to heal her and drag her out."
Mical stared at the young Admiral with a newfound respect. Until that moment he had thought that the only concern in Carth's mind was whether or not the Exile could lead them to Revan. But he actually cared very much about her safety and the well-being of the entire crew. He had gone above and beyond to protect people he had barely known. When Mical had first agreed to help the Admiral on Dantooine he had sensed his good nature and that is what had swayed his decision. It was good to know that he had placed his faith in the right man. Carth Onasi was as noble as they come and for that reason he breathed a small sigh of relief.
"What about the generator?" Carth was asking into the Comm.
"…still active…" came the crackling reply.
"Damn! Bao Dur was right," Carth muttered, "Look, there's no way I can let you take a shuttle to the surface. They just aren't built like the Hawk. The Shadow Generator is still active and it will pull you down. It would be suicide."
Mical frowned and his heart ached. He needed to be there, he needed to help her, to save her if he could. He would not fail. He took a moment to think, "Very well," he replied, "I will just have to reach her using another method; do you have a quiet space where I can meditate?"
"Yeah," he said, "There is a small anteroom just over there if you want it."
"One more request, Admiral," he said, "How do you plan to rescue her from the surface if the generator is still active and Bao Dur is on Telos?"
"Well," Carth replied, "To tell the truth, we got lucky. I wanted to buy the Exile some time to get off planet without any Force sensitives in tow. So I called for your tech to help restore some emergency power that had been knocked out in the Ithorian Compound. I was hoping to get him off the Hawk and away for a while but he figured it out. He showed up in headquarters to call me on it and when I told him what was really happening he was pretty upset. He told me that he'd left his remote on board and that he built it specifically to destroy the Shadow Generator if he couldn't. As soon as it recognizes the planet it will automatically go into its primary function. When that happens we should be able to get her out of there."
"I see," Mical replied, "But how did you manage to leave without him?"
Carth frowned, "He was ready to take out my men to get on that shuttle but I told him what she wanted and why. He respected that. He's dedicated his life to destroying that generator but with a word from her he stayed behind. That's some kind of loyalty."
Mical smiled, "It truly is and thank-you for protecting him and the others."
"Anytime," Carth said, returning the grin.
Mical turned and headed into the anteroom. Lowering himself into a meditative posture he reached out, beyond the Sojourn, beyond the space between them to her. He could feel her as she battled her way towards Kreia. She was tired, facing continual waves of opponents as she went. He took a moment to bathe her in the warmth of his love and then he began the process of transferring his life energy to her. She would succeed even if it cost him everything he had.
On the surface the Exile paused to catch her breath. She had battled her way through an army of Storm Beasts and had just destroyed what she suspected was the progenitor of the species. It was several times larger than the average beast and far more aggressive. The dark energy of the planet was draining her. It fed her opponents and placed a stranglehold on her abilities that she been fighting to negate. She had not suffered in battle thus far but she found that it was taking longer to heal and center herself afterwards which was worrisome.
Closing her eyes she suddenly felt very warm. It was like being held closely and caressed by someone dear to her. "Mical?" she thought, but got no response. She knew that he was awake somewhere and that he was focusing his thoughts on her which bolstered her inside. She knew he wasn't angry with her for leaving and that seemed to push her exhaustion aside, surrounding her with a new sort of protection. Her focus returned to her quickly and she felt in total command of her powers once again. Straightening she took a deep breath and strode towards the entrance of the Trayus Academy.
It sat in the heart of Malachor V, bizarrely serene in a sea of dark energy with smooth, almost glassy stone leading up to its entrance. It was the antithesis of what the Enclave on Dantooine had once been. It rose like a headstone, a testament to death, despair and loneliness. As she approached several Sith warriors uncloaked themselves and knelt at her feet. She was expected.
When she entered she was met with an entirely different situation, room after room, filled with guards, droids and Sith marauders attacked. Sometimes she was forced to face entire platoons but the love and strength that filled her had intensified her powers. When greatly outnumbered she raised her arm and brought down a violent Force attack which felled every opponent in the room. She cut through each room, blasting aside battalions of Sith that were attempting to stay her process until finally she arrived in the large, round room that lead to the core of the Academy.
The silence was deafening as she allowed her eyes to adjust to the dim red lighting that issued forth from the floor. She whirled around when she heard the slow, purposeful footfalls of someone behind her.
Sion.
"You should not have come here to Malachor," he rasped, "She will break you, your mind, your body…you will be lost. Return to the surface, let the planet claim you as it claimed the other Jedi…there is no reason for you to suffer at her hands."
Whatever the Exile had been expecting, it certainly hadn't been that, "Are you showing me mercy?" she asked incredulously.
"It is not mercy," he continued. As he spoke, he detailed the level of cruelty that Kreia was capable of. He told her precisely what it had been like to be enslaved by her and he begged her to leave once more. She could not understand why he was so insistent, he was her opponent and he had tracked her relentlessly for months. He was the embodiment of the dark side and she could feel the hate, anger and despair as it radiated from him. She wondered if he was trying to knock her off guard by warning her in such a manner.
"Lust, impatience, cowardice... most Jedi awareness doesn't cruise beyond the surface feelings, to see what's deeper..."
The Exile blinked as the memory of her conversation with Atton filled her mind. It was so clear that it was almost as if he were standing next to her.
"I hear you," she thought, smiling to herself.
She reached out, pushing past the hate, past the fear and beyond the darkness that was consuming him. She was shocked by what she found. In the months that he had spent following her and her companions he had become somehow attached to her. It was dark and twisted; almost a mockery of what it should have been but it was undeniably there. She continued to search until she found the grain of light that remained within him. It was the last fragment of the man he had once been but its existence was hope.
He bristled at her, sensing her invasion and raised his weapon high, igniting it. She had pushed too far and he attacked. She barely had time to raise her weapon but she managed to block his assault. She was totally unprepared for the Force Push that he flung at her, blasting her backwards. Pulling herself upwards she powered forward with a burst of speed aggressively slashing at Sion's torso with one blade and spinning to hit again with the second. He dropped to his knees, gasping in pain which stopped her attack short.
"Please Sion, surrender…I don't wish to fight you," she said.
He raised his arms and she felt an enormous dark pull that instantaneously sealed his wounds. Standing, he straightened and faced her once again.
"As long as the dark places of this world flow through the cracks of my flesh I cannot be killed." he intoned, "Leave here, you do not understand what she will do to you."
"I will not leave until I have faced her!" she retorted, "She is personally responsible for the deaths of those most dear to me. I will not allow that to go unanswered. I have no desire to see you harmed but you will stand aside!"
Sion was silent; when he attacked again it was without his previous vigor. Her words were having an effect, wearing down his resistance but he continued to attack. He cut at her brutally, slashing a long streak down her left side and she screamed. It hadn't hit deeply but the smell of singed flesh assailed her nostrils. She threw a Force Whirlwind at him and swung her weapon with all of her power, taking a large chunk out of his cracked chest. Such a wound would have killed any other opponent but Sion was already dead. He only had to realize it. He fell once more.
Seeing him on the floor diminished him somehow in her eyes. He was not the large, looming threat that had challenged her when she entered the room. His defenses were failing him as he gasped, trying to regenerate. The good man that remained within him deserved to be rescued. She attempted to reach out with her power, filling that small speck of goodness with compassion.
It was too much for him.
"Get…OUT!!!" he roared, rocketing forwards and cutting at her savagely. She slammed into the ground, tasting copper and hearing a distinctive crack as her left elbow connected with solid stone. She threw her right arm forwards, blasting him with energy until he fell once more to his knees. She stood and spat the blood from her wounded mouth across the alabaster floor. Crossing slowly, she paused when she was toe to toe with his crumpled form.
He turned his head upwards, eyeing the clean silver double-blade that hung perilously close to his neck. She allowed a moment to pass, enough time for him to understand that she could have killed him and she extinguished her weapon.
"I hate you…" he muttered, "I hate you because you crawl within my head as she does but your presence holds no thoughts, no teachings, you are just…there unspoken. I hate you because you are beautiful to me. And in that weakness lies death."
He loved her.
The shock was piercing to her. He had been so consumed by the dark side that he was almost unrecognizable as a human being. He was so separated from what he had once been that he could not recognize love for what it was; to him it was something dark and deformed, something to be reviled.
"Caring for me does not make you weak," she said, "It is your fear that cripples you. You say that you cannot die but how have you lived? Can you not see what you have become? Who were you? Is there anything of that man left inside of you? You are afraid to open your heart to the light of human compassion…you are afraid to let go."
He rose angrily, attempting to attack her again but this time it was markedly slow. Her words had dissolved his will to fight, his powers were diminished and it was more like he was being pushed to attack. In siphoning the dark energy of Malachor to live he had enslaved himself to its will and could not stop himself from swinging his weapon at her. She ached inside for him and easily parried his attack, forcing him downwards in an exhausted kneel.
He was in tremendous pain, holding on to a twisted desire to be the chosen one in Kreia's eyes. He could not understand why she had chosen the Exile over him or why she had a place in her otherwise impenetrable heart. But the Exile spoke softly, choosing her words carefully. She explained Kreia's plans and her loathing of the Force. She told him that his inability to let go of the Force was precisely why she hated him and why she had marked him for death. Deep within he knew it to be true. He felt the energy that had been holding him together for so long begin to break apart. He fell forwards, trying to hold on to life.
"You were right," he breathed, "I am afraid to die…I cannot face the consequences of this life…"
She knelt next to him and turned him over, pulling him into her lap. "Reach out Sion…if you turn from the darkness you will be forgiven..." she pleaded.
"I can…never be forgiven…" he gasped as he struggled.
"If you truly desire it from deep within, if the man you once were is still in there you can have it," she whispered, "You just have to trust enough to let go…"
His breaths came in jagged gasps as he cried out in pain, "Will…you…forgive me?" he asked and she felt him truly for the first time. Not the broken, twisted being that lay in her arms but the good man that he had once been.
"Of course," she murmured as her eyes stung, "Search my heart and know it is true…"
She felt him touch her deep inside, clinging to the forgiveness and sympathy that she offered. She felt his consciousness as it eased and he began to give in to the inevitable.
"That is the way of the light," she whispered, "Let go…It is not such a terrible thing."
"Her weakness…is you." he breathed, "…As you were mine. I am glad to leave this place…at last…"
With those words he let go as his one dark eye slowly closed. She held him for a moment, gently stroking the cracked flesh on his cheek. As she lowered him to the floor her consciousness was filled with the vision of a young, raven-haired man with warm brown eyes. He was standing in a sunlit field, smiling at her and emanating peace from within. In a moment he vanished and she knew that he had made it.
He was free.