Disclaimer: I own nothing.

"Every time I see this world, I think I die a little inside, Master. There is a... void here that exists nowhere else, an abyss within the Force that- that frightens me if I were to be honest. I see here, the death of the Force and while that might be the better solution, should the True Sith succeed in their plans... how do we know the Force does not keep balance with life. Look at the surface of Malachor V and wonder as I do if it will be this the galaxy has to look forward to... should we fail..."

Darth Revan to Darth Traya during his final inspection of the Trayus Academy

Chapter 20: Phantoms

For Mandalorians, they are taught from the moment they can conceive of the notion that life is hardship, pain and conflict. Their adopted homeworld after their exile from Coruscant was harsh, its surface a desolate and unforgiving desert that was only surpassed in harshness by a handful of other worlds where few dared to live. The strong survive and the weak perish. It was the way of things; the basic teaching Mandalorian children were taught from the moment they could walk, could understand and could fight. While the Mandalorians were harsh in their treatment of their children, this did not begin until they were several years old, normally when they could walk for extended periods of time. Still, pain was a learning experience and the man who had once been Darth Revan sat on a medical bed, his face set in a stony glare as he awaited treatment. Bastila had been allowed to remain in the room with him since his injuries were not immediately life threatening and the healers hovered around the former Dark Lord, fascinated by the Mandalorian technology and Revan's increased healing abilities. A few hours observation and a few kolto treatments were all that were required to free the former Sith Lord of his wound and Revan remained as still as a statue, his brown eyes locked with Bastila Shan's as the Jedi met his gaze unflinchingly.

Thoughts, desires and feelings moved between the two Force-sensitives yet neither spoke a word to the other, words held little value when compared to the simple openness and truth their bond allowed between them. Bastila's features were pale, her cheeks flushed slightly as sweat beaded her forehead and she conversed silently with the fallen Jedi's mind. There was little time left to convince Revan to see things from her perspective and she could feel the overbearing pressure Revan's resolve brought along the bond. Here was a man who had convinced not only himself, but tens of thousands, millions of others that mass murder, torture and slavery were acceptable practices. He'd turned his back on weakness, compassion and kindness in exchange for hatred, contempt and disgust. He'd formed his emotions into a cudgel which he used as a weapon to slay any opposed to his views and it had been successful, too successful.

"What do you see when you look into the abyss, Padawan?"
Revan's voice was light in her mind, almost contrary to the darkness he held within him and she resisted the urge to flinch away from his powerful gaze, instead meeting it head on as she resolved to let her own thoughts be heard to him, let him see what she saw. She knew his opinion was skewed, biased and molded from years of evil and corruption but she could not deny sensing the man he'd been. The man he was supposed to be by all rights.

"I see a man, misguided by the events around him and conflicted. There is good in you, Revan. I can sense your conflict, I can see your mind. Whatever intangible enemy you fight, I know you think this is the only way but if it is as you've said, that they are the True Sith than they are no more a threat than you or I. They are flesh and blood and as such, susceptible to what we ourselves are vulnerable to."
Revan's expression remained guarded, a slight curl to his lips telling of his disagreement with Bastila's thoughts. He had a year to view the True Sith in their natural habitat, see the destructive powers they wielded so easily. In truth, he was not balancing the Force to weaken the Sith, he was strengthening the Republic by culling the weak. The final battle between Jedi and Sith would be fought without advantages, without legions of soldiers and armadas of starships. It would be fought in the minds of each Force-user. Fought in their hearts as they chose to either fight the darkness, or embrace it. Those that fought it would succeed or fail, for better or worse and those that embraced it would serve the Dark Lord of the Sith, would serve him; as they very well should. He had taken pride in the strength he'd found as the Dark Lord, reveled in the powers opened to him and he embraced his destiny as he brought about the inevitable schism within the Jedi Order started thousands of years before, before the exiled Dark Jedi had turned the True Sith from nothing but primitive tribes to an organized empire of warriors and slaves that tore apart the galaxy a thousand years before, and threatened to do so again. His war was not simply a tactic to combat the Sith, but to bring about their end in every way. The legacy of the Sith would be erased, replaced by his Sith Empire and their true corruption, their true evil would die with the last of their kind. Revan was fighting a war of annihilation.

The healers worked quickly and quietly, their work on the former Sith Lord finished in only an hour and Revan sat calmly on a medical bed, a kolto bandage wrapped tightly around his abdomen as he remained as still as possible. They'd change the bandage in a few hours with another and check the healing process but he was certain from how he felt that he would be back to his old self soon enough. Alone for the time being with Bastila, Revan glanced towards the Padawan, a crease to his brow showing his frustration as he listened to the thoughts she did not shield from him. They were so hopeful, so misguided and so utterly wrong that he felt almost offended by the Jedi's hopes for him. He was not one to change sides lightly. First he'd betrayed his people by following Kreia's teachings and later embraced the values of the Jedi Order and the Republic, then he betrayed the Jedi Order by first going to fight his own people and then by using the darkside of the Force.

"The Jedi Order and I have a difference of opinions, to put it lightly, Bastila. I could never return to the Order, would never return to follow teachings I no longer believe. The basis of the Jedi teachings, from my point of view is flawed and were I to claim to have any honor, I could not consider rejoining the Jedi or even the Republic lightly. I will forever be an enemy to them and my honor will not allow me to tolerate their blatant ignorance or yours. I will never be who I was before the Mandalorian wars as I will never again be the young boy my Master Kreia brought to the Order and trained. I have seen- done too much to simply go back and I cannot, even if I wanted to."

Bastila stood from her chair, moving to Revan's bedside and staring down at him imploringly.

"But you can change if you want to. Your past actions say as much. Surely you can see the madness of your designs. Save by destroying? It is-"
Revan's head turned so he could stare into Bastila's gray eyes, the Padawan stopped speaking abruptly, the memory in Revan's mind and reflecting in her own enough to silence her. The expression on his face and his eyes would have done the same and he spoke in a tone so calm, so emotionless that she found it hard to believe that he was an actual man and not a droid.

"Madness is a state of being. If I am a madman, it is logical to assume I would not know. It was also logical to assume I could not be convinced otherwise of my methods. I do not claim to be a madman, nor do I claim to be perfectly sane, but I will not demean the sacrifices of the Jedi I fought alongside in the Mandalorian wars, I will not demean the sacrifices of those that followed me after Malachor V, for their actions are nothing less than that. A necessary sacrifice."
Bastila stared down at Revan with a pained expression, not wishing to speak her thoughts but saying them anyways, knowing it futile to hide them from Revan. While they would anger him, hurt him possibly; she knew they were necessary.

"Then, Revan, it is not your soul you damn, but Malak's. He carries on your teachings, carries on your will even if he does not follow you in body, he follows you in mind. He- he is a monument to your sins, Revan. Malak is your sacrifice, as are all those who follow your teachings. They continue to fight your war while you waste away here, weak and diminished and lamenting them for deposing you because of your weakness. You speak of strength and power yet you rely on deceit and stealth to survive. Were you really the man you paint yourself as, you would be Dark Lord. Not- not this weak creature I see before me."
Her words had the expected results and Revan's eyes glittered dangerously in silent rage as he kept himself still by sheer willpower. Had he not been bonded with the girl and sensed her thoughts, had he not been a Mandalorian and respected honesty he would have killed her for speaking to him in such a manner. He was no child, he realized the magnitude of his sins, of his fall and he realized their effects on Malak. The Padawan have simply given him a verbal slap to the face and he despised her at that moment, though he could not help but respect her for speaking her mind, for looking him in the eyes and telling him what she thought was the truth.

"So you no longer see a man, then?"
Revan asked finally, his voice controlled as he eyed Bastila with a guarded expression that hinted towards approval. Bastila's face was twisted slightly, as if pained but she spoke honestly and she met his gaze, holding it longer than most would have dared to.

"I see what was once a man, twisted into a monster but retaining enough of his humanity to at least think himself a monster. I can see your shame, Revan. I can see your self-disgust and it is all that remains of a good man. Whether you chose to nurture that monster is what will determine if you become a monster."

Having spoken her mind, Bastila did not wait for Revan to respond as she turned on her heel and left swiftly. She knew it was weak, a retreat but she could not stand being in the same room as him, feeling his overbearing presence. She was glad he kept most of his thoughts shielded as she did the same, walking swiftly down a corridor and stopping as she turned down a hallway and leaned against the wall, her breathing uneven as she fought down her reaction to Revan. Beyond all sense, she wanted, needed him to redeem himself. It was as if redeeming Revan was her own redemption for her actions on Dantooine and on his flagship's bridge. It was the only way she could excuse saving him and she dearly hoped, foolish as the notion was that he would at the very least consider the reality of the galaxy they lived in. He was no longer the Jedi Knight Revan, or the leader of the Revanchist movement or even the Dark Lord of the Sith he so adamantly claimed to be. He was a misguided man who's life had become nothing more than a pawn in the struggle for galactic power between the Jedi, the Republic, the Sith and the Mandalorians. He had been a part of all of those organizations yet he belonged to none. He would forever remain outside of their bounds and she hoped, prayed as irrational as it was, that he would do what was right in the end, not what was necessary. He'd damned himself enough and having seen his mind, she knew him to be someone she might have enjoyed the company of, perhaps even been a friend with if circumstances had been otherwise. Bastila was so caught up in her reaction to Revan and her own thoughts that she did not feel the approach of a young, red-haired bounty hunter, nor the threat the former Mandalorian slave brought with her.

Revan remained still in his bed, staring at the spot Bastila had been in for several moments after her departure before he leaned back, making himself comfortable and ignoring his pestering conscience. He'd been affected by it on Taris early on but he blamed that on the bond as well as remnants of the Tauryn Katarn persona. He was beyond guilt, had no right to feel guilt. It would not be honorable to the sacrifices the dead represented. You do not mourn the dead, you respect them, you avenge them and you use their deaths instead of wasting them. He was using those the Mandalorians and his Sith had killed to pave the way for the defeat of the True Sith. To mourn them would have been a emotional waste of time and he chose instead to view them as a necessary evil, one he would make as meaningful as possible when the time came for the True Sith to invade. They would have a nasty surprise awaiting them when they realized their powers would be next to useless and while it was a high price to pay, it was better than the alternative. Still, a part of Revan, small though it was, considered Bastila's argument and the logic in it. She may have been emotional, but she was still a Jedi and while her decisions of recent spoke to the contrary; her argument was sound and well-informed, though completely wrong. He was beyond any type of redemption and he wouldn't seek it anyways if it were open to him. He had no right. He'd murdered, tortured, enslaved and destroyed and to doubt his actions would simply mean he was a fool. He'd learned all he'd needed when he decided to become Darth Revan and he would live with that, or die by it. It was the type of man he was.

An hour later, Revan was walking under his own strength, clad in his tattered black robes with his lightsaber clearly visible, he moved with a purpose through the streets of Nar Shaddaa. Canderous Ordo was several paces behind him, nursing a blaster wound on his left leg that had slowed him, though his own anger at the situation kept him moving at Revan's fast pace. A group of bounty hunters had ambushed the Ebon Hawk and Bastila was nowhere to be found. With the Cathar wary of him and wanting to protect the weakest of their group, Mission, he had decided to go to Revan; leaving the Wookiee and the droid in charge of the ship's safety while Juhani searched for Bastila. The Cathar had given him a distrustful glare before she'd told him to see to Revan while she and Mission searched for Bastila. The Twi'lek had readily agreed, feeling useless in the wake of their escape from Dantooine. A nostalgic part of Mission wanted to explore the city-moon, the streets of the city-covered moon familiar to her. Canderous chose to guard Revan and was delighted when Revan suggested with no small amount of anger that they kill whoever orchestrated the failed attack. Bastila would turn up at some point, Revan had assured him, meaningless though the gesture was, that the Padawan was in no danger and Revan moved through the streets of Nar Shaddaa, securing a speeder easily enough and setting them on a course to a lower level storage facility.

"What do you have down here?"
Canderous asked curiously, seeing most of the section of the lower level to be abandoned and cut off from the rest of the area. Revan answered quickly enough, a doorway automatically scanning them and opening for Revan. Canderous rose a brow as a forcefield lowered, allowing them access and he listened intently as Revan explained the building.

"I own this entire sector of Nar Shaddaa. The Hutts were more than glad to part with it and I used it primarily as a production and storage facility for certain... necessities that could not be acquired elsewhere."
Canderous was silent, not that interested in Revan's business unless the other man felt the need to inform him. the tunnel opened into a massive factory and Canderous' brow rose ever so slightly as he spotted a Mandalorian Basilisk War droid, the Scarab-class before he spotted a Clover-class Basilisk as well. A grouping of Sith and Jedi land and spacecraft littered the grounds of the facility as well as dozens of active battle droids. The droids moved about their patrols as if nothing had changed and Canderous realized that the facility was completely automated, lacking any living residents.

"How many of these stashes do you have?"
Canderous finally asked, his curiosity getting the better of him as he stared longingly at the Mandalorian Basilisks. Revan glanced at his fellow Mandalorian, following Canderous' gaze before he smirked slightly.

"I had one on Telos for a while, as well as a much smaller one on Taris I never managed to get to as it was on the other side of the bloody planet. I'm sure those are gone though. Queen Talia of Onderon also allowed me to have a facility on Dxun as well as a storage facility on the outskirts of Iziz, though I doubt General Vaklu left them untouched after my death. Don't worry, though. Mandalore's mask is kept in a safe place."

Canderous had a sneaking suspicion there was someone else around the facility, yet he remained calm as Revan brought their stolen speeder to rest on a landing pad. The former Sith Lord motioned for Canderous to follow him and Canderous did so, resisting the urge to jump as the speeder was instantly incinerated to prevent them from being tracked by an internal security system.

"Quite an impressive place ya got here."
Canderous muttered, his steel gray eyes narrowing as they took in the distinct shape of a Sith Interdictor ship in the distance. Revan wasn't kidding when he'd said he owned the entire sector and the Mandalorian watched as humanoid forms clad in robes of gray and black moved about the massive landing bay before them. Armored Sith soldiers bearing the mark of the Bloodravens moved amongst the Sith and Canderous frowned as one of the figures wearing the strange robes approached them, its features hidden beneath a cloth mask that looked ridiculously similar to a Tusken Raider's mask, though the coloring was wrong and it was missing the tribal marking. Canderous instantly recognized the robes worn by Sith assassins and tensed, his hand lowering to the Mandalorian Ripper on his hip while he cursed leaving his blaster rifle behind on the Hawk since it would slow him down.

"Lord Revan?"
The assassin's voice was surprised, but she moved to attention and saluted upon recognizing Revan's features. Revan smirked, offering a simple, half-hearted salute to the Sith assassin before him.

"At ease, Aven. What's the situation?"
Revan asked, acting as if he hadn't been gone for the better half of a year. The Sith was obviously eyeing Revan but straightened, looking more like a soldier preparing for inspection than an assassin.

"All contact was lost with the Revenge seven and a half months ago. As per your orders, the facility cut contact with the others and we've been working around the clock to produce the droids specified. We've infiltrated all of the other circles of the Empire and the news was grave. We'd been prepared to work our way back into the general population as ordered upon your... death but Lady Traya infiltrated the facility and demanded our allegiance."
Revan nodded absently, knowing Traya would likely be the one to break through the encryption on his personal computer files. She'd know where he'd hidden the HK droid factories and their shipyards and she would likely use it to her own advantage. Not that he had a problem with it, she was the closest thing he'd had to a mother and even Mandalorians loved their mothers, if they ever got the opportunity to know them. The facility was designed to be fully automated by substandard HK-50 models that would later help combat the Sith once their hold over the Force had weakened enough. Malak had thrown a proverbial hydrospanner into the plans though and it was up to those loyal to him to carry out the plans. He'd ordered the Sith manning the facility to spread out amongst the Republic and prepare the galaxy for war as best they could through alternate means should the Empire or he fall, but obviously Kreia felt she had a better plan.

"Is it possible to contact Lady Traya?"
Revan asked calmly, noticing several other Sith had begun approaching his position warily. Upon recognizing who he was, they all stood to attention, stopping short of saluting him as they waited for orders. Revan was their leader, he'd carried them through Mandalore's war and he would forever be their leader, even in death. They'd made a commitment, sworn an oath to Revan, knowing the importance of carrying out his plans. These were the Sith most loyal to him, the ones Malak would have killed in his purging of the Sith Order, had he known of them. Malak had managed to kill some of the opposition, but there still remained a good amount of Sith still loyal to their founder, to Revan.

"All contact with the Trayus Academy was lost exactly one month ago, during the blockade of Taris."
The Sith reported, her hands crossed behind her back as she stood at ease. Revan closed his eyes, feeling along the bond he shared with his once-master, Kreia and felt nothing but a cold void. Knowing what a severed bond felt like, Revan opened his eyes with a frown, knowing Kreia was not dead, but she was cut off from the Force. Obviously the other Lords of Malachor had taken the distraction of Malak's search for Bastila as a means of gaining more power. He was surprised Malak hadn't killed Traya, but the surprise was overruled by a sense of anger towards the situation. He should never have let his guard down around Malak.

"Continue on the assumption that the Lords of Malachor and all their forces are hostile."
Lieutenant Aven Sek'tai bowed to Revan, turning to make certain arrangements were made to combat the Trayus Academy's Sith before she stopped, remembering a Jedi they held captive in their holding area. She'd infiltrated their base, likely scouting for the Jedi Order and received a nasty surprise when she and a dozen of her fellow Sith assassins appeared around her, using their uniquely trained abilities to nullify her Force-connection and overcome her.

"We had a captured Jedi within the facility, a famous one at that."
Revan sighed, glancing at Canderous with a shrug as he turned back to Aven.

"I've no time to babysit yet another Jedi. My priority is finding the Bounty Hunters who abducted Bastila Shan. Let the Jedi rot."
Aven lowered her head, knowing that some of the Jedi still within the Order were friends of Revan's at one point.
"Milord... Lieutenant Rand was- Well, we've begun evacuation procedures. The base's location was compromised by the Jedi. The charges were set and your arrival is... timely."

Revan's face was devoid of any emotion and Canderous noticed that the figure before him, Aven was a Twi'lek as her headtails wrapped around her neck in a nervous gesture she hadn't been able to hide when faced with Revan. She had been a slave on a Hutt colony when Revan had come during the Mandalorians wars and saved her and she would forever be indebted to him for that. She would also forever fear him because of what he represented. Her freedom.

"Atton was never fond of Jedi..."
Revan stated carefully, his eyes narrowing as a frown marked his features. Obviously the Jedi was one of importance if Aven was so nervous in his presence and he wondered briefly if it had been Atris. He hated Atris for staying with the Jedi Order instead of joining him and Malak to fight the Mandalorians, but she had been a close friend years before and he owed much of his knowledge of the Jedi archives to the librarian. She had been a student of his own Master and he had a competitive and mutually respectful relationship with the woman. At least until she'd helped the Jedi try to mind wipe him. If Atton had dismembered her, he wouldn't exactly be crushed, but he wouldn't be happy either.

"The Jedi did not survive the... Lieutenant Rand was... continually agitated after your loss. He- he took it out on the Jedi he captured."

Revan's eyes gleamed slightly, a slight wince, imperceptible, crossed his features as he thought of what Atton was capable of as a torturer. The man had enough anger and resentment in him to give a True Sith cause for envy and Revan crossed his arms calmly, raising a brow as he stared at Aven.

"Continue with the evacuation, the facility is to be destroyed but I want all those who are willing to continue following me to take the Revenge II to Roon in two month's time. There is enough open space out there for you all to hide until called upon and Roon is as good a place to start as any."
Aven nodded, moving away from Revan cautiously as she went to carry out Revan's orders. He'd offered them all freedom from his ways but she knew only Atton had begun to doubt Revan's teachings. The dead Jedi in the prison cell two levels down had met Atton's torture with calm and insightful words, trying to turn the man from his ways and somehow, she'd gotten to Atton before she'd died. Aven closed her eyes, sighing slightly as she came to a decision. Revan was alive and she owed it to him to remain loyal. She was certain most of the others would agree and she moved with haste to the Revenge II, passing along the option to all of the Revanchist Sith, as they'd begun calling themselves, she met on the way.

"I got a feeling whatever this Atton character did to that Jedi wasn't pretty."
Revan nodded absently to Canderous, knowing logically that it hadn't been Bastila but some part of him irrationally concerned. He had to see the Jedi's corpse with his own eyes before the, he wouldn't really call it worry, unease would have been a better description, would leave him. Moving to a nearby lift, Revan and Canderous waited calmly as the elevator carried them down two levels to an automated prison area. Revan entered the room, the scent of human blood strong in the air long with perspiration and other, less-than flattering aromas. He'd seen his prisoners soil themselves in his presence as he tortured them and it was not a new smell to him, just a combination of odors he associated with both misery and death. The first thing Revan noticed as he stared at the dead Jedi before him was her hair. Fiery in color against the pale gray of the walls as she remained where she'd died, strapped to a slab and drained of her life. Revan's hands clenched into fists as he realized why Aven had been hesitant to tell him who the Jedi was and he let out a very un-Mandalorian sigh as he moved to a storage bin, took a white sheet from it and carefully covered the Jedi's naked and mutilated form. Her body would be incinerated when the base was destroyed but there was something to be said of dignity in death. Her face was serene, almost at peace and Revan ignored the dead eyes that stared at him, forever reflecting sympathy as he turned from Vima Sunrider's corpse.

"Mandalore's mask if on sublevel 3, section 32. The passcode for access is IE-244-79. Why don't you go retrieve it, Canderous. Its yours now."
Canderous turned his gaze from the covered Jedi's corpse to Revan, his features strangely subdued as he nodded. He'd been right about what Atton did to the Jedi not being pretty and he left Revan alone in the room, retrieving Mandalore's mask mere minutes later. Canderous stared down at the mask of his people's leader, feeling strangely unfulfilled as he claimed it as his own. Not because he hadn't fought the previous owner to the death, but simply because the image of the tortured Jedi's body had reminded him of how low his people had sunk during the wars. He'd reclaim their honor as Mandalore, leave behind something other than corpses as a testament to Mandalorian glory.

"How long have you been watching me?"
Revan asked the empty room, the covered body of Vima Sunrider motionless as a semi-transparent form appeared at his side, staring thoughtfully at the white sheet before it turned to Revan. A soft blue light emanated from the apparition as it eyed Revan warily, its expression troubled.

"Since I became one with the Force and didn't find you on the other side."
Vima Sunrider's spirit walked over towards the site of her death, a curious look crossing her face before she turned to Revan, frowning at him in what could be considered a concerned fashion.

"Jedi spirits do not commune with Sith Lords, Revan. Not unless there is no other choice. I've... seen what you are trying to do and while it is... monstrous, it is working. The True Sith have begun to notice and prepare, but you've lost control of the situation, Revan. Malak has lost control. He must be stopped."
Revan's jaw clenched in silent anger as he stared at Vima's covered corpse, refusing to look at her ghost. He'd met a few Force-spirits in his time, just never one of a friend and he couldn't look at her, couldn't look away from her corpse.

"What was done to you by my mother, by the Council, was wrong. But so is what was done here, to me. You need to let go of the hatred, Revan, the resentment or this is the future that awaits all of the Jedi you don't turn. Do you want this to happen to Atris? To Kavar or Dorak or Zhar?"
Revan's face took on a hint of amusement though he didn't turn to Vima's spirit.

"Maybe Vrook."
Vima's ghost surprised Revan by laughing. The sound was so familiar, yet so alien at the same time that Revan glanced at her, a confused expression on his face. Vima smiled sadly at Revan, shaking her head as her amusement left her slowly.

"I admit at times I had entertained thoughts of... subjecting Vrook Lamar to torture, but he means well in his actions and you left the Jedi Council little choice on their treatment of you."

Revan sighed, moving towards Vima's covered form and undoing the restraints, gently laying the body to the floor and staring down at her for a moment in thoughtful silence. He'd doubted himself on Taris and even a little on Dantooine and when Bastila had thrown her own opinions in his face. Seeing his friend's ravaged body had torn at his confidence and feeling her lingering presence in the Force told him of how recently she'd died, and how violently.

"Don't start talking about destiny, Vima. My only concern is balancing the Force with as little damage as possible. I've done what no one else would and while the True Sith still have the advantage, I need Malak insane. I need Malak to continue spreading darkness or my plan will never work."
Vima's phantom features were schooled in a look of annoyance.

"I died here, Revan. You may have stopped caring a long time ago about your brothers and sisters in the Force but this is serious. Remember Kreia's teachings, Revan. How your actions effect not only those you touch, but those they touch as well. The Force is balanced. You're merely letting Alec run loose so you don't have to be the one to kill him."
Revan flinched slightly at the use of Malak's real name. The name he'd known the tall human by before they'd joined the Mandalorian wars and he'd adopted the name the Mandalorians had begun calling him.

"Oh, I see. You still think you can save him, don't you? You damned Squints when you maimed him, when you chose to become a Sith instead of help Kenobi. He never forgave you for that and his hatred has only grown. He will do to the galaxy what you have done to him. Your sins you commit will come back to visit you, Revan. They already have. You see him as a victim and while you have anger, you turn it inwards instead of focusing it on him. He will destroy everything, Revan. You know this, because you can feel it. You know you've made a madman out of him."

Revan again flinched at Malak's nickname, not having heard Malak called by his previous names since the outbreak of the Mandalorian wars and he unconsciously tightened his crossed arms, his face troubled as he looked between Vima's corpse and her apparition. What remained of the friendship bond he once shared with Malak was ravaged, chaotic and torn. Madness. Malak was insane, a dangerous thing even if he hadn't had a rational mind behind it. Malak's twisted mind saw what he was doing as the only way, because of his actions and Revan felt the same guilt he'd felt on Taris, when Carth had told him of his destroyed family. There were only a handful of people in the galaxy that he truly felt anything powerful around and one lay dead at his feet. As if to finalize her argument, Vima Sunrider moved in front of Revan, raising her hands gently to his face and while they were intangible, something within their auras connected, causing Revan to flinch as he looked up into her eyes, their spectral blue depths still reflecting the same pity her dead body's eyes had.

"What Atton did to me, Malak will to do her, if he is not stopped."
Revan felt something dark within himself. Something that was different from the darkness he harbored and he stared blankly into Vima's eyes, not quite knowing how to describe the feeling within him. It was dark, violent and primal, but righteous in a way and calling for revenge against something that hadn't happened yet. Something that would happen if he didn't stop it. For the first time in half a decade, Revan doubted his own sense and felt an abhorrent rage at what had happened in that prison cell, at everything and he blinked, the emotion gone before it had a chance to effect him physically. His heart was beating faster than it should, pounding in his ears and he blinked at the empty room around him, wondering briefly if he'd gone mad and imagined his dead friend's ghost before he glanced down at his feet, his eyes troubled as another emotion gripped him. Concern. He was concerned that what Vima had said to him was true and he took in a shaky breath, glancing around the room silently before tilting his head to the covered body in the room in silent respect. Vima Sunrider deserved a better death, she'd been a skilled warrior and- and a good friend. He'd make certain Atton Rand suffered the next time they crossed paths. There was no doubt in Revan's mind at that moment that his plans for the galaxy were at an end. Whatever he'd set out to do as Darth Revan was done and any further destruction was detrimental to the cause, to the coming war and it had to be stopped, at all costs. There was also a certain Jedi Padawan to find and Revan had little doubt who the her Vima had referred to was. Bastila Shan was connected to him mentally and Malak would use that, by any means he could attain; Malak would use that if he ever found out about it.

"You ain't going soft on me, are you?"
Canderous Ordo's voice was gruff, but probably about as soft as it would ever get and Revan resisted the urge to start, calmly turning to the Mandalorian as he considered his response. Canderous' hand held Mandalore's mask and Revan wondered briefly why the Ordo General had not donned it immediately before he met the older Mandalorian's eyes and blinked.

"I was just remembering why I started my war. I think... my priorities are about to change."
Canderous considered this, shrugging indifferently as he glanced down at the covered corpse of Nomi Sunrider's daughter. He'd recognized the Jedi as the daughter of the Jedi that had taken Ulic Qel-Droma's powers and led to the defeat of Exar Kun and he felt she deserved a better death. A clean death. There was little honor to be had in a death such as hers, but by the expression that had been on her face, Canderous knew the Jedi had met an honorable end, facing it without fear. He could respect that, though he could not excuse what had been done to her. Prolonging pain was not a warrior's purpose and torture, while practiced by the Mandalorians, was not meant as a means of gaining honor. Torture was a means of getting results.

"So long as I get to kill some worthy adversaries, I'm with you."
Revan glanced at Canderous thoughtfully before nodding as he turned and left Vima's body in peace, locking the doorway behind him as they moved to collect some of his personal effects. He had some armor and robes somewhere in the base and he knew Aven wasn't foolish enough to destroy the place with him still in it. She was loyal and one of the few trustworthy Sith out there. It was why she was in this facility to begin with.

"We'll find Bastila and the others and return to the Ebon Hawk. I've no interest gallivanting around the galaxy in an Interdictor right now and there are some... loose ends to tie up before I begin the next stage of my plans."

Canderous rose a brow in interest, though he did not comment as they stepped into the lift and Revan entered a coded sequence, gaining access to his own personal section of the facility. Canderous noted absently it was the area he'd just returned from and he had a fairly good idea of what Revan was going to retrieve, though it probably wasn't the best idea. Canderous couldn't help but smirk at the thought of Darth Revan walking through the streets of Nar Shaddaa in his battle robes and mask. It would certainly make things interesting.

Carth Onasi closed his eyes, letting out a long, drawn-out sigh as he relished the feel of the Jedi shuttle's controlled environment. Sweat stained the Republic soldier's tan shirt and his heavy jacket laid on the console in front of him as he stared out of the viewport of the small ship. They'd been on Tatooine for a day and so far had found nothing. The airspace in the surrounding desert was strictly restricted to Czerka craft and it was taking some time securing permission from the local Czerka Corporation representative. Jedi or not, diplomacy was not Kaera Nurr's strong point and she joined Carth in the cockpit of the transport, her blue eyes weary as she followed Carth's gaze.

"I doubt we'll find what Revan and Malak did without some kind of clue. Whenever I ask about the Sith, all I get is nonsense and fairytales. Revan and Malak were likely covert in their last visit here and its doubtful the Sith have been back in any sense of the word. This world is worthless, its likely the Sith left it for a place to dump their trash once their war is over."

Carth snorted at that, his amusement not enough to warrant a laugh, but enough to make some acknowledgment. Crossing his arms with a sigh, the Republic Commander stared off at the lowering twin suns of Tatooine. The Republic and Jedi Order had no jurisdiction out on the rim and as the world was claimed by Czerka Corp, Czerka having the last say on who left Anchorhead. Deciding it was best to sleep on the matter, Carth slowly closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep easily enough. The stress of the past few days had worn on him and staying up all night worrying hadn't done him any good. Kaera glanced sidelong at Carth as he dozed on in the pilot's seat. Eyes thoughtful, the Jedi turned back to the communications relay in front of her and sent a quick update of their situation to the Dantooine Council. They'd be wasting yet another day waiting for clearance from Czerka Corp's off world offices. Likely the Republic or the Jedi were going through the proper channels and Kaera wondered vaguely what Revan would have done in the same position.

"He'd have likely killed the guard and anyone else who tried to stop him on his way out."
Grimacing at the thought as well as to the implications of what a free Darth Revan could bring upon the galaxy, Kaera checked the transport's logs, hoping for an update from the Council on Revan's whereabouts. She had a bad feeling suddenly and wondered briefly how Bastila and the others that had gone with Revan were being treated.

Revan moved through the buildings of Nar Shaddaa quickly, his body covered in a fresh set of jet-black robes similar to a Jedi Knight's. Blood-red Mandalorian gauntlets covered Revan's forearms and clean, black leather gloves held tightly to the lightsaber of its owner. Revan relished the feel of his own lightsaber, a second weapon of his creation dangling from his belt as his black cloak billowed behind him. The skyline behind was smoldering from his hidden base's self-destruction and above a Mandalorian swoop bike carried Canderous' armored form. Swoop bikes were a lot faster than walking and Revan was more than happy to part with a few of the devices. Aven and the other Sith loyal to him had departed shortly before the base's destruction and the deposed Sith Lord tapped the controls of his swoop bike, the mask he wore bringing up a display of the surrounding area and its proximity to the medical facility he'd been treated in earlier that evening. Few noticed the pair and Revan's distinct mask went unnoticed as he moved past the walkways of Nar Shaddaa with near-blinding speed. Once they landed he would draw up his hood and it would take someone a good amount of time staring at him to figure out the mask he wore wasn't any ordinary mask.

"You sure you know where you're going?"
Canderous asked, bored with the idea of flying around all night. Revan acknowledged him with a simple nod that Canderous would have missed if he hadn't been glancing in the former Jedi's direction and Canderous grunted, curious as to the light armor Revan was wearing. It looked like a bastardized version of Mandalorian and Republic armor, but its distinct crimson color reminded him all too clearly of Revan's old battle robes and armor. It wasn't the same, but the look was close enough that anyone with two brain cells to rub together and a clue would make the connection. Still, most of the sentients in the galaxy were pretty dense and Canderous knew a few mercenaries and bounty hunters that had taken to dressing like Revan and Malak. They couldn't make their own reputations so they had to leech off of their better's. Disgusted at the thought, Canderous decided he would go along with Revan's senses. The younger Mandalorian had been vague about where to find Bastila, but he'd said something about a connection between Bastila and himself and Canderous had smirked at Revan's choice of words, ignoring the blank look the younger man had sent him when he had questioned what Revan was implying. They had work to do and while humor was good for clearing away stress, battle was upon them. They had a Jedi Princess to find and it was time to get serious.