Author's notes: Phew, the next intermezzo is here! Warning: minor KotOR II spoiler about Kreia. Nothing big, very minor, actually, but it is a spoiler, so from the moment you find her name in the text, skip the passage until you get to the dialogue. You have been warned.

Dark Lord Daishi – HK rocks. ;-)

X X X

Intermezzo VI - Freezing

X X X

I've been looking in the mirror for so long.
That I've come to believe my souls on the other side.
Oh the little pieces falling, shatter.
Shards of me,
To sharp to put back together.
To small to matter,
But big enough to cut me into so many little pieces.
If I try to touch her,
And I bleed,
I bleed,
And I breathe,
I breathe no more.

Evanescence, Breathe no more

X X X

So it was true. All she saw in her visions, all she ever imagined. In her hand, she protectively clutched a coded datapad. A datapad that would lead her to the Star Forge... Dantooine wasn't as challenging as it seemed to be… Kashyyyk, a primitive world, posed a threat no greater than a rampaging tach. The Star Map there was clearly the source of the darkness there, and the enormous machine stood out.

Two down, three to go.

Revan lowered the electrobioculars she scanned the desert with. She found absolutely nothing.

"No success, yes?" she remarked when a swoop bike landed behind her.

Malak, walking up to his friend, nodded. "What did you expect? These settlers hardly know the Dune Sea within three miles from Anchorhead. And if the city has indeed been settled several times before, I doubt these Builders would put a beacon to their power somewhere where anyone could find it. Not after their fall."

The intense heat of the Twin Suns was even greater at noon – while searching at night seemed to be a good alternative, wastes were freezing cold at night and rampaging Tusken Raiders weren't exactly welcoming. As Malak already suggested several times, leaving the damned rock would be the most logical course of action. But Revan set her mind on finding the map. Even alone, if necessary. Not that it was necessary – the mere suggestion triggered the natural male overprotective nature, which played right into her cards. She hated manipulating him like this, but it was crucial. Speed was crucial.

"There's only one option left… do you by any chance speak Sand People dialect?" Malak knew the answer before he even asked – out of the dozens (if not hundreds) of languages Revan was able to speak fluently, none counted as anything that would get a non-violent response from the Sand People.

"We should return to Anchorhead, then." Revan noted, as if oblivious to the final query. Weariness wasn't helping her sense of humor much, just like irritation. Not that there was much to laugh about lately. Since the final battle with Mandalore, Revan felt odd. She had killed before, in self-defense, but she felt almost as it had when she had first experienced a surge of the Dark Side. Yet… whatever choice she had made, she couldn't change anything now. Not after discovering Malachor V.

Not even Malak knew of the hidden stronghold on the forbidden world. But it had to be built – the fear of the Dark Side was a tool to maintain control. Now, she would use the Dark Side itself to maintain control. The Council had already established her as a traitor. At least their hopes would be justified now.

Dark Lord Revan. A fitting title for the "future ruler of the galaxy". Where did that thought come from, anyway? The memory returned. The shocking discovery of the immense threat waiting to strike the galaxy. She could never allow that. The galaxy couldn't suffer as she did. No one could. Only if they deserved it – if they were enemies. The Republic tried to do what she did – defend its worlds, use diplomacy whenever possible. But it was proving ineffective. It was obvious that if farmers and primitives were allowed to make choices, the regime was designed to fall. And the Republic also had to "convince" races to see things their way. How different would her reign be?

The pair once again hopped onto their swoops, turning them to the direction of the nearest – and only – settlement. Anchorhead was miles away, but the inhuman (or rather insane) speeds they rode in made it seem like a few feet. The only difference between staying in the city and waiting outside was that the walls lining the city were quite high. The Czerka guards were sloppy, but even the Sand People couldn't get past the gate when it was sealed.

"Right on time, people. Another minute and you would've found a big label saying ´closed´." The gate guard muttered. Only the sight of unconcealed lightsabers probably made him reconsider outright complaining about their timing. This time, he stored their bikes without persuasion. Malak smirked slightly at that – Czerka usually didn't do anything without getting paid first, bit when the local rep saw the familiar mask under the thick cloak Revan wore, every single employee was racing to do whatever the ´honorable Jedi Masters´ wished or required. No questions asked. They were there without the fleet, which was sent to Manaan for kolto restocking. It was already agreed that they would meet there in a few days. After all, the extensive repairs after the battle at Malachor would take a while.

And since Czerka reigned in Anchorhead, there was literally nothing they couldn't do. Revan preferred staying away from the crowed cantinas – the only relax she had over the past few weeks was tinkering with droid parts. It was fortunate that she brought her own tools and parts, though – the junk she saw at the local droid shop could be compared to things the Jawas salvaged.

The only person that never doubted any of her skills was the Jedi Master Kreia, one of her many instructors. Even when others often urged her to be patient and learn slower, Kreia never restricted her, never tried to stop her progress. Few Masters didn't get on with Revan, Vrook being the clearest example – while the entire Council, Kreia in particular, were fascinated by the power of the Force within her, Vrook´s first reaction to her was: "This girl is will be trouble, remember that." When she thought of it, she began to loathe the Jedi Masters at the time the wars began.

Except for two – Kreia, because she understood, and Zhar, because he listened to her. In a sense, they were her parents. Her real parents, who taught her and brought her up. Not those weak traitors who had probably abandoned her. Only because of these two, the nagging feeling of wanting to return to Dantooine or Coruscant wouldn't vanish. She was losing her family. But some sacrifices were necessary.

And Revan was sacrificing everything.

She closed the last panel of the now finished droid. The blood red eyes of the humanoid-like machine lit up with the activation of its core. Her masterpiece.

"Accessing: Core systems activated. Creative and emotional matrix on-line. Primary programs initiated. Data processing… additional programs accepted. Begin standard protocol." The droid recited, its voice formal, but the undertone showed a light-hearted nature. Considering what kind of protocols have been installed, it was rather amusing. Bloodthirsty piece of metal, that one. "Greeting: Hello to you, sentient. I am referred to as HK-47."

"I am Revan, but you will refer to me as Master, as per your programming." She took off her mask. "Memorize my face. It's unlikely you'll be seeing it anytime soon. And ironic as it is, I need you to translate Sand People dialect for me."

"Statement: Affirmative, Master. Query: Does this task by any chance involve clubbing the Sand People with their own gaffi sticks?" HK asked hopefully.

"No one must know what we're searching for." The reply was clear.

That very same night, they left the city once again, this time without Malak, who was already interrogating the Jawas, like Revan immediately ordered him to do when they entered the city. Locating the nearest Sand People settlement wasn't hard – while their auras seemed to melt into their world, the Tusken fires and roaring were difficult to miss on the barren surface. The Tuskens were confused, to say at least, to see someone enter their camp without making themselves noticed before they wanted to be noticed, shoving them away with simple hand movements. But the impact was as if a sandstorm had hit them. After these displays of power, the chieftain – who probably didn't care much of the oral history – was fool enough to be impressed and gain her access to the Storyteller. It was like a Jedi history lesson… without the Jedi part. And even though HK-47 had no idea who the mythical Builders were, Revan didn't need any explanations. After slaying the entire tribe once she had all the information they could give her, she immediately flied her swoop to the location the chieftain told her about.

The cave, if it could be called that, was filled with ancient statues – all like the Kashyyyk hologram. And in the middle, like a dark jewel on a crown, sat the Star Map, rusted but intact. How unfortunate that the mouth of the cave was to the west. Seeing the first sunrays touch the map would be amazing. But the galactic core shining from the hologram she triggered was far brighter. More coordinates. So, the Star Forge was somewhere in the Outer Rim. Understandable – the far ends of the galaxy were unexplored, especially the hostile territories. And who had time for scouting when war was upon them?

"HK-47, record these coordinates. I want to be secure."

"Statement: Affirmative, Master."

The suns had risen by the time they left the cave. The Anchorhead Czerka rep was mad with joy when Revan handed her the chieftain's gaffi and offered more than a hefty reward and equipment. Malak was already waiting by the docking bay entrance, all his questions silenced when Revan waved the datapad at him. By the time they got to their shuttle, he had only one unanswered query, really.

"So, where to now? Hoth, perhaps? It would be a nice change. Or Rhen Var. These Builders seem to like extremes."

"Close, but not quite. Korriban. How does that sound?"

"Hmm, let me think." He said, sarcasm dripping from each word. "Sith."

"So you listen to my history lectures. And here I thought my efforts have been in vain." Revan noted. Everyone knew Korriban equaled Sith… but few were brace enough to confirm that theory. In truth, the planet was dead. Only shadows remained… and the legendary Sith temples, buried underneath the sands. A tempting prospect.

"Revan, I still don't like this."

Already on Dantooine, he had voiced his concerns. He believed in her wisdom and cause – they had discussed this search before venturing into the first ruins. But why do all this? Why carry the weight of the galaxy on her shoulders? Never in his life would he doubt that Revan was more than capable of carrying such a burden – he doubted the reason. ´For the greater good´ was no longer a sufficient answer for him. The woman was a damned good liar, but Malak learned to distinguish the scarce moments when she had to twist the truth. In a sense, they shared a bond. Not a real Force Bond, perhaps, but they were somehow connected – Revan was unreadable for everyone else, especially with the mask. He learned not to tease her about the robes anymore – as a symbol, they worked perfectly. A symbol of what, though?

Revan´s eyes, shielded by the mask, glittered strangely. Calculatively. "We can't return now."

"I'm not asking you to return to the Jedi or submit yourself to their will. It's just… it this the best course of action? Even if the Jedi wouldn't accept us back and banish us, the Republic would probably be more than glad to have us with the military. We don't have to do this." He knew very well what a blank look was hidden from him now. It wasn't that Revan thought he was insane – she simply didn't understand why he was saying this. He understood her reasons. He had do.

"Yes we do." It was no more than a whisper. "Don't you understand at all?" a concealed smile. "You don't. Not yet. But you will. But enough of that. I'd like you to meet HK-47, my new protocol droid."

The droid in question quickly marched to them, upon hearing its designation. It sized Malak up, moving its head as much as it could. Considering that Malak was much taller and more muscular than an average human male, even a hunter-killer unit had the right to be impressed. Especially when seeing the look of loathing and unhidden jealousy Malak spared the droid. A wise move on HK´s part was not insulting him at the moment. While the droid was semi-impressed, he was also wary.

"HK, this is Malak, a close friend of mine. I do hope you get along."

"So, you've finished the tin can already? I'm impressed." Malak noted, glaring at the droid. "Does it do anything besides look like a misshapen Trandoshan?"

"Query: Do you do anything besides look like a hairless Wookiee, friend of the Master?" HK retorted, quite innocently.

"Why you…" The most unlikely sound echoed – soft laughter, coming from the black mask of Mandalore. Pure and untainted, like Revan´s soul once was. It stopped Malak from reaching for his lightsaber and HK from pointing his blaster at Malak´s forehead. The sight didn't last long, however. A few seconds and the laughter died out.

"This will be an amusing journey, I see." Was Revan´s final comment before she returned to their shuttle.

X X X

The ancient burial site of the Sith Lords of old was famous throughout the galaxy. Korriban, a barren world, was now dead. The legendary Sith settlements were buried deep beneath the sands. Only through detailed scanning had Malak located the groups of statues, doubtless centuries, if not millennia, old.

Obviously, the place was of great importance, considering the scale and detail of the sculptures, the depth of power residing there. If there was a Star Map on this world, it would be there.

The small Republic shuttle landed in front of a few damaged pillars – practically in the center of the valley. Both ex-Jedi sensed the darkness pulsate from four points beyond the stone walls framing the area. Ancient tombs, presumably. They stepped out of the ship, gazing around themselves. Seemingly without reason, Revan crouched, taking a handful of the sand and letting it fall back to the ground.

"This wasn't caused by erosion. An earthquake, perhaps. Millennia ago." Malak noted. Science was his league, just as history was Revan´s.

"No. It was bombed – the area is too damaged, compared to the rest of the planet. Just this specific spot – the Valley of the Dark Lords." She rose, talking off her mask and clipping it to her belt.

"So, genius – which door do we open first?"

"The question is: what can we expect to find behind it?"

Malak thought for a moment, "Well, the tombs are probably dark and the ground could be moist – shyracks like that kind of environment." He smirked – their "Shyracks" probably wouldn't spend a second here. "Otherwise, I'd expect tuk'ata and if we're lucky, more terentatek."

"History lessons can be useful. Another Great Hunt… though for something different." Her gaze moved to her right, the only part of the Valley untouched by sunrays. "What's the betting the map's there?"

"Zero, because I sense it too."

Revan was already at the blocked entrance, dusting the wall a few inches from it with her palm. "Aangwyn tu c'aal mje't ra eiwna galua dei seeelaten." She read. Pure gibberish.

"In Basic, please?" Malak noted, with a hint of whine. Revan glared.

"Beware all who enter, for here lies the great ruler of the Sith." She nodded. "Naga Sadow."

"How can you tell? And who's this Sadow guy, anyway?"

"The script is a mix of primitive Basic and the native insectoid language of the Sith. If I'd read it with the proper accent, it would sound like clicks and hums to you. It's over 2000 years old - that's when the Great Hyperspace War began. I assume you've heard of that?"

"I'm not sure. You see, I've only just arrived into this galaxy." One of the rocks hit him in the arm, point-blank. "Hey! What was that for?"

Revan lowered her hand, letting the rock drop. "I expect professionalism from you, Malak. My visions are clear. And my plans won't come crushing down because of your incompetence." There was a hiss behind her voice. A frightening sound.

Malak stared at her, wide-eyed. "Revan… what's going on?"

She had expected such a reaction, but she still wasn't pleased that she had to play the part of the megalomaniac. The galaxy needed to be saved from a threat so subtle and close… and she could only do that by pretending.. "You still don't understand, do you? Are you still blinded by those lies?" she hissed, as convincingly as she could. "Think, Malak, think. Why are we here? Why do I seek the map?"

He frowned. Why? Visions… her separation, the way she carried herself as if she were empress… he understood how she wanted to 'protect ' the galaxy. All fit painfully together. In her eyes, he saw the truth, now that the mask hiding it was gone. The mask… it was there to hide the truth from him.

Revan sneered widely. It felt unnatural to her. "You've begun thinking again, I see. Good, good. Very good. And you understand me. You must. Only you ever did, Malak. That is how I know that you'll come with me and help me finish what I began!"

But he kept gazing at her quite blankly, the disbelief only in his eyes. He refused to cry seeing this madness, Revan's madness. But he wished he could. "No, Revan." He whispered, loud enough for her to hear it. "I cannot allow this." The sapphire beam of a lightsaber was lit. Revan's face was blank now.

"You aren't serious." Was the emotionless statement.

"It's not your habit to lie, Revan. Don't start now." He turned down the power of his weapon. Sith or no, he wouldn't kill his friend.

As if paper was written upon, emotion returned to Revan's face.. "You are very foolish, my friend. You're nothing without me!" she sneered again, "Where would banthas be without a herder?" It hit an accurate nerve, but Malak remained silent, motionless. Once more, Revan's sneer fell. "So be it… Jedi." She spat.

A soft hiss and the crimson beam was ready in her hands. And, almost lazily, she walked to him. It only took a second. Revan lowered her weapon as he dropped to his knees, clutching his head in pain. She called the blue lightsaber to her hand, deactivating both weapons. Minutes passed, but the agonized screaming wouldn't stop. All Malak saw of reality was a shadow towering next to him, watching with cruel glee.

Then, there was only darkness.

X X X

It was fortunate that HK-47 was recharging at the time, otherwise Malak might have ended up with more than just resurrected nightmares. Revan allowed him to rest, for the time being. Bothering with digging up dirt was a pleasure she'd award him with later. Her head bowed slightly, she inhaled deeply. She hadn't wanted it to come to this.

Forgive me, please forgive me…I love you… but you must help me with this, you mustn't know… the burden is mine alone.

This was the only way.

A slight movement alerted her to the fact Malak was regaining consciousness. She sat down on a nearby rock, watching the sunset.

Malak groaned, his eyes closed. Vague memories of screaming were all he remembered. Pure fear. Only when he heard a voice did he remember everything. "I doubt that's an experience you wish to repeat."

"You… cheated." He managed to choke out.

"I never said I wouldn't use the Force. What else would you expect from a Sith?"

"But you're not…"

Lying through her teeth to him was even worse. "Don't fool yourself. I am about as much a Jedi as those buried around here. And you aren't far from that, either. You may still rest. Work is ahead of us. You are of no use to me exhausted."

"I'm not your servant."

"You are my apprentice, Malak. That, or you're dead. The choice is yours to make. HK-47!"

The droid seemed to pop out of nowhere, really. "Statement: HK-47 is ready to serve, Master."

"Keep an eye on him while I'm gone. If he tries anything, stun." With that, Revan stalked away into the night. Malak clutched his head again, beating down thoughts of revenge and humiliation. But this was insane! He couldn't allow it. There was only one thing he could do… though he regretted it, he would have to leave Revan on the planet and get help. She was mad, consumed by the Dark Side. He wasn't about to lose her like this.

With considerable effort, he managed to stand.

"Command: Halt, servant of the Master." Malak glared at HK-47, who was quick to jump between him and the shuttle.

"Out of my way, droid." He growled dangerously.

"Statement: The Master has given you the privilege of recharging. You are not to leave the area."

"She also said you're not allowed to do anything."

"Retort: The Master never specified lack of death." Malak dodged the stun ray beam, surprised – he hadn't considered the possibility of the droid having special toys installed. Better stop the game before it whips out a flamethrower.

"My turn."

He avoided a few low-power blaster shots, since Revan still had his saber. Real hell would be unleashed if he destroyed her droid… but disabling wasn't a bad idea. HK's head and arms hung down, its eyes dimming as Malak tapped into the Force and tampered a bit with its systems. Not enough to permanently damage it, though. He quickly jumped into the shuttle, starting the engines. A second… then they died out. He tried again. Nothing.

Suddenly, all he saw was white light. All he heard was a soft voice. "In time, you will learn to serve me." All he felt was searing pain. Breathing, thinking… even living hurt. Everything… anything could be sacrificed to stop the pain. Consciousness was fleeing. And then, it stopped. "Don't think I'm giving you the mercy of rest." Revan's voice hissed. "Do I really seem stupid enough to leave you to escape and alert those fools? Malak, Malak – have you no sense of strategy at all?" Mocking.

"Revan…" he managed to whisper, even though he had no idea what to say to her.

"You have no right to use my name… not anymore." No regret passed through her voice. "I'm your teacher now… and you should address me as such."

"Revan…" he began once more.

"Lord Revan, if you must. But you should call me Master."

"Revan…"

She growled in frustration. "We have work to do."

"What are you doing to yourself?" It seemed she was speechless. After a second, her cold façade returned.

"The Jedi Revan is dead. My name is Darth Revan, Lord of the Sith. And I have seen the light." How she was lying! It felt like twisting a lightsaber into her insides. "I have embraced the Dark Side." A second of silence, and Force Lightning flashed once more. There was no emotion on Revan's face as she watched the tortures, heard the ear-piercing screams. Finally, she stopped. "Anger and fear." She smirked faintly, "A good combination."

"N-no…"

"Believe what you will. But you can never escape the truth." Like a mirror, she reflected her Force Sight to him. And he saw the swirling darkness, the strange sensation passing through the Force. Fear. Anger. Hatred. But above all, pain. Pain fueling the fear, the anger. Combining them into hatred. It didn't matter. What was important was that it was there. No longer suppressed, denied or hidden. And if he wouldn't be so exhausted, it would be the most amazing feeling of freedom.

"You learn quickly…intriguing. This is just the beginning. Soon, you will learn to use the power you now feel. I ask you again, one last time – will you join me?" this time, she offered him a hand to stand up. The options were clear – servitude or death. Malak didn't even know how his hand took Revan's or how come Revan's physical strength had increased so rapidly, since she pulled him to his feet easily. It took some effort to stand. "I'm proud of you now. You didn't continue living a lie. Not everyone would be able to do that."

"Thank you… I think. Master." He added after she glared.

"You'll get used to it eventually." She handed him his lightsaber. "A few enhancements have been made­… the core crystal has been changed and the Sigil-Rubat combination should suit your fighting style."

"You have your own crystal collection?"

"I found them in the caves. There are some formations there, but these were the best among them. You now serve me. And I want you to be strong."

"We're still only two people."

"All the arrangements have been made – nothing will stop us. Once we gain a few victories, more will come. I want to rebuild Dreshdae settlement… create a Sith monastery. A few fortresses, plus my strongholds from the Mandalore wars and it can begin. We have enough influence in the fleet to turn them to our cause."

"Wars are expensive – where will you get the cash for the ships, weapons, etc.?"

An enigmatic smirk. "Time to teach you Rakatan."