A/N: TRIGGER WARNING. This chapter is rated M for mature themes and strong violence. If that's a problem, skip ahead to Chapter 26. Reader discretion advised.
"Bastila!" Revan cried through the closing blast door. She looked up at him from the floor, tears stinging her face and blood dripping from her broken nose. "Never doubt that I am coming for you." Bastila felt a wash of warmth; she was sure Revan wouldn't abandon her. He pointed to the Sith Lord. "And Malak, don't doubt I'm coming for you as well!"
Malak laughed, reached down and grabbed Bastila by the hair. He hauled her to her feet as the blast door closed with a resounding boom. Malak clamped one huge hand over her nose and mouth. Bastila experienced a moment of intense panic, thinking he meant to smother her then and there. But he spread his fingers to allow her to breathe and pulsed the healing Force into her smashed nose and shattered cheekbone. In a moment, Bastila was healed, if a little weak.
Malak moved his hand from Bastila's face to her throat. "Follow me quietly to your cell, and you will be spared any pain for now. Struggle or resist in any way, and you will regret it." Bastila nodded; she had decided to save her strength for the ordeal to come. Malak took her lightsaber and allowed Bastila to stand on her own.
Malak led her to the command deck. Instead of the tiny force cage she had been placed in before, Bastila was given a moderately comfortable cell, two meters by three, with a thin, bare mattress on a folding bunk and a toilet behind a curtain. Bastila was glad for the privacy, but she suspected it was meant to make her feel grateful to her captor. She sat on the bed; Malak scrutinized her through the force field.
"Do you realize what you have done?" mocked Malak.
"I've beaten you," Bastila said boldly. "Jace will reach the Star Forge and defeat you!"
Malak cackled. "Foolish little Padawan, you've doomed him! If Revan loves you, his passion will betray him, and he'll fall to the darkness he will face. If he is the true Jedi you hope him to be, he will ignore his feelings for you and abandon you to your fate. And when we meet again, your Battle Meditation will be the edge I need to crush him once and for all!"
Bastila glared at the Dark Lord. "I'll never turn on Jace."
Malak smiled. "You wanted to find the Star Forge? I am taking you there now. No Jedi who has ever lived can resist my methods, in that place. You are already mine, dear Bastila. It is only a matter of time." He turned and left her alone.
Bastila sat back, leaning against the cold metal wall. Be quick, Jace.
The hyperspace flight to the Star Forge had lasted three days. In that time, Bastila's torture was fairly ordinary, if the term applied. She was shocked, choked, and beaten. She was given no food and only enough water to keep her alive; the guards kept her from sleeping more than perhaps an hour at a time. The Sith interrogators made no attempt to brainwash Bastila at all. She came to believe they merely intended to weaken her, physically and mentally, for whatever Malak had in store for her at the Star Forge. She also noted that none of the abuses she was suffering were inflicting permanent bodily harm of any kind. That was what really chilled her. If Malak was making sure they didn't hurt her too badly, he must believe that he could turn her quickly; he wanted her healthy so she could fight for him. Bastila came to a sad decision; she mustn't allow Malak to use her power against Jace or the Republic. Her eyes filled with tears as she realized she simply couldn't risk waiting for rescue any longer.
Bastila began tearing strips of cloth from the toilet curtain, laying them out on her bed. When she had enough, she started braiding them. Five strands, just like the Padawan braid. Just like the Jedi Code. Her hands moved mechanically, repeating the pattern from memory. There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. She ended up with a meter and a half of improvised rope, and began fashioning a noose. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. Bastila threw the rope over the curtain rod and tied it off. There is no death, there is the Force. She put the noose around her neck, took a steadying breath, and closed her eyes. I love you, Jace. I'm so sorry. She grasped each wrist with the opposite hand and let her legs go limp.
The rope went tight and the noose cut into Bastila's neck. She gagged, concentrating on keeping her arms and legs still. The pressure began to build behind her eyes. Bastila squeezed her hands tighter, digging her fingernails into her arms. The deck shuddered as the Leviathan dropped out of hyperspace. Bastila was blasted by a darkness such as she had never imagined; it was far more potent than when she had been afflicted with horror by the terentatek. Her eyes flew open and she grimaced. Her vision was shrinking, going dark with colored lights flashing around the edges. She heard footsteps in the hallway and bent her head forward, trying to pull the noose tighter. There was some muffled yelling, and people were grabbing at her, holding her legs, lifting her. Bastila kicked weakly, trying to keep them away. She saw a pistol in front of her face; there was a flash of bright blue and everything went dark.
Two red-armored Sith elite troopers held Bastila by the arms and marched her through the ancient ruin. Bastila had been taken from her cell and hustled into a shuttle down to a planet. She could feel the darkness pressing in all around her, but she had no idea where she was; the Sith had prevented her from seeing outside. The hallway opened into a high-ceilinged room with an angled stone slab in the center. Malak was standing next to it, arms crossed. The Sith troopers forced Bastila to her knees before Malak with her hands cuffed behind her back.
The Dark Lord grabbed her chin and lifted her head, running a finger along the red welt on her throat. "You tried to hang yourself, Bastila. That was quite naughty of you, my dear; you will have to be punished." He looked up at the troopers. "At the same time, I should reward you two for stopping her. You have rendered a great service to the Sith." He handed them a bundle of nerfhide strips. "Enjoy her, but remember the limits I set. Injure her, and I'll have the torturers use you for practice." He swept out of the chamber.
The Sith troopers removed their helmets. One leaned down and kissed Bastila on the cheek. "Don't fight us, honey."
Bastila caught him with a forceful head butt. "Scum!" The second trooper jabbed her in the ribs with a stun baton, and Bastila spasmed and fell onto her side. The two troopers dragged Bastila to the slab and pressed her belly to its edge. They forced her legs apart and tied the leather strips around her knees and thighs, running the free ends through metal rings on the block. The troopers pulled the straps taut and tied her in place. One removed her cuffs and brought her arms around in front of her. Her wrists were bound; Bastila's arms were pulled up above her head and tied to the slab. This left Bastila bent over the lower end of the slab, lashed in place. She struggled weakly, just testing her bonds.
The lead trooper's nose looked broken. He leaned in close. "That will really cost you, whore." He grabbed her ear and twisted. Bastila clenched her jaw and grunted, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of hearing her scream. The trooper wrenched her head to the side, slapping her hard in the face; Bastila saw stars. She arched her back as the second Sith whipped her with a handful of the nerfhide strips. He struck over and over, then dropped the improvised lash and ran his fingers through her hair. Bastila tried to bite him, but couldn't reach.
"Still got spirit, eh?" Broken Nose smiled. "Time for some attitude adjustment." He walked out of sight. Bastila struggled as she tried to turn and see what he was doing. Her eyes popped wide open as he jammed the stun baton into her spine. He triggered the baton's maximum shock pulse and held it for nearly a minute. Bastila jerked and screamed until her throat was raw. He laughed and caressed her bottom. "Well, 'Battle Maiden?' Have you learned your lesson, or shall I give you another?"
Bastila's muscles stood out as she pulled on her bonds with all her strength. The leather thongs holding her legs were the first to snap, and Bastila kicked the Sith backwards. She braced and broke her wrists free, then whirled and knocked the baton out of the guard's hand. He reached for his gun, but Bastila caught him in a Force grip.
"No, wait," the guard wheezed, holding his throat, "please, don't." Bastila lifted him off the floor, her face a mask of unbridled primal hate. She gestured; the guard's limbs stuck straight out from his body. She broke his right elbow first, hyperextending the joint until the ligaments and tendons popped and tore. Bastila twisted him in midair, breaking his left femur. Jagged edges of bone jutted out of his flesh; the helpless man screamed and begged her to stop. Bastila slammed him into the walls and floor and snapped several more of his bones. The other trooper had dropped the whip and just stood there, paralyzed by fear. Bastila finished splintering the first man's limbs and crushed his ribs. He began bleeding from the mouth and nose. Bastila extended her hand, fingers splayed as if gripping an invisible sphere. The guard's screams were long since incoherent, just one long wail of pain and terror. Bastila closed her fingers into a fist and the guard's skull imploded.
She dropped the shredded mass that had once been a man and turned her attention to the second guard, who had drawn his blaster. He fired; Bastila held out her hand and the bolt hit her in the palm without even singeing her skin. The terrified guard put the pistol to his own head but Bastila snatched it away with the Force. The Sith ran for the door and began clawing at the stone. Bastila lifted him and shoved the stun baton into his mouth. She shocked the man, then suspended him in the middle of the room. Bastila pointed a finger and shot a bolt of violet lightning into the handle of the baton. The guard gurgled and screamed; his hair began to smoke and his uniform charred. The Sith burst into flames and thrashed for a minute or two before going still. Bastila let the blackened corpse drop, then her rage broke. She swayed on her feet, looking around her at the two men she had horribly killed. Bastila fell to her knees and retched. "Oh, gods, what have I done?"
"You have done splendidly, Bastila." Malak stood in the open doorway. "Your hate has served you well. You freed yourself, and your enemies are broken at your feet."
Bastila shook her head. "I didn't want this!"
"You did, my dear," replied Malak. "It is when one is tested to the utmost that one's true self is revealed." He cocked his head. "Your so-called Masters would have you still suffering on that slab, for no purpose other than self-denial."
Bastila stood straight and dignified. She turned, walked back to the stone and lay down on it. "I am a Jedi, Darth Malak. Do your worst."
Malak smiled. "As you wish."
The Dark Lord gestured; durasteel chains snaked up from the sides of the stone. The manacles fastened to Bastila's wrists and ankles and the chains drew taut, pinning her to the slab. Malak cackled and struck her with Force lightning, drawing a loud gasp. "You are strong, child. But I will break you."
She turned her head away. "I'll never fall to the dark side!" Malak shocked her more powerfully; Bastila cried aloud. "You think torture will turn me, Malak?" she asked, feeling a surge of fury, "you are a fool."
"Torture?" said Malak mildly, "No, dear Bastila, you misunderstand." He stroked her cheek gently. "This is but a taste of the dark side to whet your appetite. When you finally swear loyalty to me, it will be willingly."
"Never!" Bastila spat. Malak's eyes twinkled.
"Such resolve in your words, but I see the truth in your heart. The dark side calls to you, Bastila. You hunger to taste it." He held up a hand; electricity arced between his fingers. "Become my apprentice, and all its power can be yours!" He jolted Bastila again.
Bastila clenched her fists and bit her lip, anything to hide how much pain she was in. "You don't know Jace. He will defeat you. The light will triumph!"
Malak struck Bastila across the face, then smiled. "Perhaps, but you will lose even so. If you and Revan destroy me, your Masters will take him from you forever. You may lie to yourself all you want, but you know I speak the truth. I offer you freedom, power… and Revan's life. I know you will need more persuasion, but we have plenty of time."
He released Bastila's shackles, turned and left the chamber. Bastila immediately sank to the floor, trying to clear her mind. She realized to her utter shock that she could not feel Jace through their bond. Hurry, Jace, she thought desperately, I need you, and I don't know how long I can hold out.
A/N: I debated a long time whether or not to include this chapter. I feel that-despite her flaws-Bastila is such a good character that it would take something truly horrible to break her. I don't think the game does a good job of showing this, making it seem like she just caved way too easy. If you want to comment on this chapter, please PM me; I don't want discussion of M-rated content out in the comments of a T-rated fic.