Falling For You

Disclaimer: The Jedi Master, named fleetingly by Derrin... his name and physical attributes (though obviously not his Jedi-Masterness) belongs to JK Rowling... but I've borrowed her toys for my fanfics before, so I don't think she minds... just felt I ought to mention it (and if you know where I got the name from, you should also get what Derrin means about him).

Author's Notes: They say laughter is a great healer... or at least, it dulls the pain... enter Derrin, and let chaos reign! (hey, that rhymed!) Please, tell me if my Manaan maths is screwed up... I did check with three other people, but if you see a mistake, tell me. Also, my knowledge of sword fighting, before I wrote this chapter, was precisely zip... I asked Lord Valentai, on the KotOR discussion boards for help, and I'm eternally grateful for the assistance. Also, introducing everyone's least favourite screw-up: Bandon... what, you thought I forgot about him? Oh, no... I have a whole ESB-type plot bunny, just for him... mwhahahahahahahaa! Ahem shoves the bunny back in its drawer until later in the chapter. Oh, chocolate products go to whoever spots the Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy reference - it's tricky only because Malak words it differently from HHGttG... and much as Derrin would enjoy it, no it's not a Pan-Galactic Gargle-Blaster ::holding a towel, and grinning manically:: enjoy the chapter - it's a light-hearted interlude between all the darkness.

RollingSkull: Thank you, you flatter me. Yeah, you know, Tarek was Revan's first kill... in case you didn't notice. And I'm glad you liked her fall... I was particularly proud of it. Yeah, the Kill Bill thing was particularly blatant, wasn't it? And if you think that was dark/sadistic, you have got to see chapter 11 - now that chapter is sadistic ::insert evil maniacal cackling here:: )
The Shadow Priestess: Lol, of course, M'Lady... I wouldn't want to displease the woman who's writing THAT fanfic ;) ... and I prefer chocolate sauce :D ether-fanfic: Well, he had damned good reason to enjoy torturing Rangar, didn't he? And yeah, I also find "no, dark side bad" to be pretty amusing, too... which is why I have him say it, when he's trying to deny that part of himself. Well, see... I came up with scenarios that would turn me (or anyone, for that matter) if I were thrown into them, and threw them at Revan and Malak... makes it seem more believable, to me at least (Malak's fall in ch11 was more difficult to do, because he's not as rash and powerful as Revan.
Darth Arachne: Well, if I didn't go too far, Revan would have been able to handle it, and then she'd not have fallen :p ... hmmm, but Revan wasn't a Sith when she protected Genie... she was proud though, which meant that she couldn't resist the gloat-factor of telling the Mandalorian who she was - kinda stupid, I'll admit, but when I throw these characters into these situations, they react by themselves and I have no control over them... I can adjust the situation I put them in to suit my purposes, but they write themselves (like the time Carth slapped Kira - I so didn't plan that one!). Heh, this fic's not aimed at drawing tears... more like shock/horror/disgust... especially when I get to the point where I go into detail on Malak's jaw-problem ::insert evil maniacal cackling here:: I've no clue what ending I'll choose... it depends how Revan behaves after the mind-wipe, and as I said, I don't control these characters, I'm merely the typist who puts them into words. Yeah, I tried that site - it's where I found out Kira means Dark Lady :p ... yeah, it took a lot of dark energy to turn the ashes into diamond, I assure you... a lot of anger and hate through the Force ;) fun stuff.
fuzzynerds: Cute penname... thank you :D HK-48: Welcome to my darkest fic yet (if you believe Skull, anyway... and I've not even got to the really dark stuff yet). Although, the other ones weren't intended as parodies, they just happened to have a sense of humour is all. Yes, all the maps, some in more detail than others )
Rascarin: Well, if you saw my SCHV fic, you'll know that Katzof were the main clan to run before the war was over. Those two are Katzof's shining example, so are we really surprised? Thank you, "evil" is a compliment, to me.
Brynn: Well, it did have to be drastic to make her fall... I'm glad you liked it. And I'm also very pleased that you can relate to Revan... it means I've made her realistic enough - thanks.
snackfiend101: Excellent spelling, really brilliant :p ... yes, I know I'm evil, thanks for the compliment. Actually I've not given Malak so many reasons to fall, and he is a lot more determined to resist the dark side because he hasn't been hurt so badly... but it was great fun breaking him (chapter 11.
Niliav: Yes, you're pretty right about those two... rotten honourless bastards. Lol, yeah... kinda obvious when I'm writing a darkfic, that the heroine's little sister's not going to have a pretty fate, eh? The name of clan Katzof was swiped (and probably misspelled) from Andromeda.
Trunxluvr82190: Heh, Revan's fall was more gradual, and I couldn't see it as right that her eyes would just snap and change colours... though when I write the glowing-eyes thing, I'm thinking of the Goa'uld in Stargate, for some reason. Malak's actual turning point (though he does slip up a few times, he's still basically good until it) is much more obvious, aesthetically speaking. Your threats don't scare me! I need my hands to type, come up with something more logical to convince me to write :p
F-15 Eaglestrike: Heh, I'll not be done with KotOR fics for a good while yet - I've several projects in their early stages, just waiting for this one to finish - never fear about that. The game ends after Malak's death... so unless I change my mind drastically and decide to make it a happy ending for Malak and his soulmate (it's possible, but don't bet on it), it'll end with Malak's death, at the latest.

"I hate the world today,
You're so good to me, I know, but I can't change.
Tried to tell you, but you look at me like maybe,
I'm an angel underneath, innocent and sweet.
Yesterday, I cried.
You must have been relieved to see the softer side,
I can understand how you'd be so confused,
I don't envy you."
-Meredith Brooks, I'm A Bitch. P.S. Listen to this whole song - I had trouble choosing which part to use, and all of it fits Revan, in one way or another.

x x x

Chapter 7 - Recuperation

Revan declared quite definitively that the Map was on the ocean floor. The rapid rotation of Manaan gave them a twelve hour day (and some pretty phenomenal water currents, in some places, apparently), and Ahto City's flotation rate was set to orbit the ocean in the opposite direction, at half the speed, giving them a 24-hour day... one day above water for every two below. It was interesting, really... but the important thing was that the city did pass directly over where Revan said she could sense the map, at approximately midnight, every night.

While the Captain arranged the kolto supplies to be loaded, Revan disappeared off, giving Malak instructions to; "Just relax, let off some steam. We'll not get a sub tonight, but I'll have it for tomorrow."

It was with the futile intention of relaxing a little, that he found himself in Ahto City's west-quarter cantina. The planet was a nice enough place. The view over the ocean was pretty spectacular, even more so in the moonlight than during the day.

The reason Malak's attempt to relax was so futile was because a couple of minutes after he had sat down in the cantina, Derrin wandered in. The Zabrak Jedi was wearing civilian clothes, instead of his usual Jedi attire... but those horns, and the dark-red-almost-black tattoos on his head made him unmissable... and the brown-and-orange clothes he wore clashed horribly with his tattoos, even to Malak's fashion-blind eyes. At least Derrin's Jedi robes were light tan, which Revan considered an acceptable colour-combination, so it couldn't be too bad.

Malak shook his head, and tried to make himself invisible. Unfortunately, being about 6'6" tall, and still wearing his Jedi robes (because he didn't own any civilian clothing), he was almost as difficult to miss as the Zabrak.

"Hey, Malak!" Derrin walked over and sat himself opposite Malak, without permission.

"Go away." Malak said coldly.

"Why?" Derrin asked blankly, "I thought you could use some company."

"I'd prefer the company of a ravenous Traallian beast, to you." Malak growled.

"I'm hurt."

"You should be."

"Aww, c'mon, Malak." Derrin whined.

"I hate when you whine like that." Malak muttered, "Actually... I hate when you breathe, but I can just about tolerate it... the whining is another matter."

"Hatred leads to the dark side." Derrin announced, in an incredibly irritating impersonation of Master Vrook.

"I hate you." Malak muttered.

Derrin stuck his tongue out at Malak, childishly.

"If you stick that tongue out at me again, Derrin, I will rip it out and impale it on one of your horns."

"That's nice." Derrin muttered, "And why are you so pissy today, anyway?"

"Because you walked in when I was trying to relax."

"I know a good cure for that." Derrin stood up and wandered over to the bar. For a fleeting moment, Malak hoped that Derrin would just leave... but that was merely wishful thinking. The Zabrak returned with a couple of glasses of some alcoholic drink or other. "Try this. You'll like it."

Malak stared at the glass Derrin had set in front of him, while Derrin took a large gulp from his own glass. "What is it?"

"Tarisian ale. Not easy to get when you're off Taris, but it's worth the couple of extra credits. And Ahto's bars even had Mandalorian Firewater - which I must try one of these days - because they're not worth conquering, and Manaan is adamantly neutral in all things. A couple of the Mandalorian warriors even stop here occasionally, because it's neutral ground."

Malak's eyes narrowed, "Mandalorians? Here? Now I'm really in a bad mood."

"Meh... that was a couple years ago, before the war broke out in earnest. Just nobody wants to drink the stuff, so the barman kept it in storage."

"And how do you know this?"

"Because I asked what was the strongest stuff he had in stock." Derrin said grinning, "This is the second-strongest... the Firewater is the strongest, but I thought you'd like the Tarisian ale better."

"Right." Malak scowled at the drink, then picked it up and took a tentative sip. It was sweet and fruity, and it had a hell of a kick to it. He blinked a few times, and set the glass down.

"Strong stuff, huh?" Derrin asked, grinning.

"Hell yes." Malak answered.

Derrin sniggered.

"So tell me about Taris." Malak asked, "Revan and I didn't bother with it, but it can't have been that boring."

"Well, the Undercity was shitty... and I mean that literally. The Upper City was boring as hell. The Lower City, though. Now that was interesting."

"I'm listening."

Malak sipped the Tarisian ale slowly, as Derrin prattled on about the mischief the five Padawans had got up to in the Lower City of Taris. He barely paid attention, really. It was all typical Jedi behaviour, with a hint of Derrin's usual rouge-wannabe style and Tyr's bloodthirstiness thrown in, for good measure. Tyr and Matt got into a couple of cantina fights with street-gangs over some trivial issue... the gangs started it, obviously. Derrin lost all his credits to a card-shark at Pazaak, and Sam went and won them back. Cassie, who had been AWOL until that point, then informed them of some slaving operation run by the Exchange... which they were only too happy to mess with, freeing a bunch of Twi'lek dancing-girls, a Wookiee, a Cathar, and some human slaves as well. Tyr then persuaded them all to go down to the Undercity, where they took one look at the resident monsters, and decided the Lower City was better.

By the time Derrin had finished his long-winded, and likely greatly embellished story, they had both gone through three glasses of Tarisian ale, and two glasses of Mandalorian firewater. And Zabrak tend to have a stronger constitution than humans. Add the fact that Malak tended to avoid alcohol in large quantities, and you have one drunk Jedi Knight, in the company of a bad influence of a Jedi Padawan, who's also had a fair amount to drink.

"Y'know what, Malak. Your hair really looks daft." Derrin announced, with the definitive tone that only one who as consumed a certain amount of alcohol can achieve.

"You would say that." Malak sulked, "Because you don't have hair, do you?" it was kind of amazing that Malak was forming coherent sentences at this point.

"You know what?"

"What?"

"I think you should lose the hair."

"It's not a toupee."

"I know that. Ever heard of a razor?"

"Would you like me to use one on your wrists? Or better yet, your throat?"

"Not funny."

That was all he could really remember of that evening.

x x x

The next morning, Revan found him trying not to be awake, in his room at the Republic Embassy in Ahto City. "Where were you last night?"

"I... don't exactly remember." Malak grumbled. He looked up at her, blinking in the light. She wasn't wearing her cloak, at the moment, so her face was visible... even if he wasn't exactly focusing clearly, right now.

Revan sat next to him, sniffed the air disdainfully, and then scowled at him, "You've been drinking."

"How'd you know?"

"I remember the smell from the one time we went to that Lower Level bar on Coruscant. I thought you swore you'd never touch the stuff again, after the hangover?"

"Yeah... I did." Malak groaned, and sat up. The light hurt his eyes, and his head was throbbing.

"Here." Revan handed him a glass of water... though where it came from, he had no idea - he could have sworn her hands were empty, a moment ago.

He took the water, gratefully, and drained the glass within moments. The headache remained, but his thoughts were beginning to clear a bit.

'Should have just thrown the water in your face... would have worked just as well.'

Malak shot her a half-hearted glare for that thought.

"Now tell me what the hell you did while you were drunk." she said sternly.

"What do you mean?" Malak asked.

"Have you seen a mirror?" she asked innocently.

"No... why?"

She suddenly fell into hysterical giggles.

"What is so funny?!" Malak demanded.

"Your hair!" she gasped, trying in vain to regain her composure.

"What's wrong with my hair?!"

"More like where did you put your hair." she said, between giggles.

Malak blinked, "I think... I think I'm going to kill Derrin." he muttered.

"Derrin put you up to this?" Revan laughed, "Doesn't surprise me. I mean... those are Zabrak markings."

"WHAT?!"

"The tattoos."

Malak just stared at her, "You're fucking kidding me!"

"If there was any fucking going on here, Malak, you'd know about it. And I'm not kidding."

He continued to stare at her, "I am seriously going to kill Derrin." he said flatly.

"I'd advise against that." Revan said flatly, "Besides..." she placed her hand on the top of his head - he almost winced, because of the pain - but the second her hand touched him, he felt the headache ease. "A touch of the Force to heal you, and they won't even hurt. They actually look kind of cool."

Malak rolled his eyes, "You're joking, right?"

"No. I'm perfectly serious." the pain was totally gone, now. She moved her hand down the side of his face, and tilted his chin up so she could examine him critically, "They look pretty good, actually. Nice colour. Kind of suits you. I like it."

"You're making fun of me."

"I assure you, I am not." she was serious. She didn't lie, at the best of times... and the tone in her voice was completely honest.

Malak was kind of stunned. He shook his head, and muttered, "I have to see the damage."

"I said it's not that bad... but there's a mirror in the fresher." Revan said, grinning.

Malak immediately jumped out of bed, not even caring what he was wearing (which happened to be his normal - if slightly dishevelled - Jedi robes), and bolted into the fresher. Revan's semi-evil laughter rang through the room behind him. He stared at his reflection for a few minutes.

He hadn't exactly been that fond of his hair, but its sudden and unexpected absence was not appreciated. And the tattoos on his head... a dusty blue colour, almost grey. They didn't look anything like Derrin's tattoos, which he knew were Zabrak designs as well... but if that was what Revan said they were, he believed her. The wide lines of blue ran back from his eyebrows, narrowing, and disappearing down the back of his skull, where he couldn't see them. Another band of colour from the corner of each eye, growing from a fine point, and again disappearing where he couldn't see it.

Revan appeared behind him, in the mirror. "Exactly how far down your back do they go?"

"I don't know. I have no recollection of these tattoos being applied." he said distantly.

She raised one delicate eyebrow, and walked over to him, stopping to his left, and resting her head on his upper arm, still looking in the mirror, "I'd guess fairly far." she said, smirking, "Because it looks like Derrin has at least adhered to basic Zabrak aura tattoos."

"Do elaborate." Malak asked. If he had these mutilations, he may as well know their meaning, before deciding whether or not to fork out the ridiculous amount of credits it would cost to have them removed.

"I'll start with Derrin, because he is just plain weird." Revan said brightly, "The curling lines, and elaborate design indicates duplicitous nature, and as you can tell, he's bordering on insanity. He's not actually insane, but..." she shrugged. Malak sniggered. "I'm serious. Some of Derrin's tattoos imply he is what some sentients would call insane... and you've known the boy longer than I have... tell me exactly how sane he is."

"Not very."

"Exactly." Revan said brightly, "And that is why - I know you've been wondering since you saw them - your markings are so different from his. You're practically his opposite. This shade of blue indicates clarity, and focus. The lines from the eyes indicates an ability to see what most cannot. The smooth, fairly straight, bold design implies strength, determination, and forwardness. Suits you, I think. And in theory, to depict exactly how single-minded and obstinate you can be..." She took a step back, and wrapped her arms around his waist, unfastening the belt of his Jedi robes. She removed his robes, leaving him topless, and smirked. "I had expected Derrin to cheat on this, but at least he's honest."

"What do you mean?"

"Men... competitive about length... but he didn't cheat, so..." she laughed.

Malak glared half-heartedly at her, in the mirror. He had to fight not to laugh as well... and worse, he had to fight not to show any signs of embarrassment at her utterly (and deliberately) tactless statement.

Her hand moved up to the top of his head, and she touched the point where the tattoos disappeared from his view. She slowly trailed her fingers down the back of his head, bringing them together, until one single finger touched the nape of his neck... then she ran it right down his spine, to the waistband of his trousers, "I do need to see if they go farther, Malak." she said, a picture of seriousness, except for her eyes, which glittered.

Malak suddenly blushed, which made Revan laugh evilly.

"I'm kidding." she pressed one fingernail into his back, a fraction above the waist, "They stop there."

"Good." he said, scowling at her impish grin in the mirror.

"I was just looking for an excuse to rid you of your trousers." she noted brightly.

"You don't need an excuse, angel." he responded, smirking.

x x x

That evening, they took a mercenary sub Revan had rented down to the ocean floor. It was kind of a non-event. They found the map, and Revan used the Force to open it without ever needing to touch it. She recorded the information, and they returned to the surface. Simple as that.

When they got back to the Defiant, Malak hunted down Derrin in the mess hall. "You sneaky manipulative evil little Hutt-spawn!" he snarled at the unfortunate Zabrak.

Derrin feigned innocence, "Hi, Malak. I like your new haircut." he said brightly.

Malak glared viciously at Derrin, taking a few slow and ominous steps into the room.

"Nice weather we're having, ain't it?" Derrin asked blithely.

"We're in space... it's a vacuum... duh." one of the senior soldiers who happened to be in the room muttered.

Malak continued his ominous stalking across the room. The soldiers had the good sense to back off from him. Derrin was another matter, however.

"Look, Malak... it was just some harmless fun. Besides, Revan told me, after, that it looks good."

"You are dead." Malak hissed.

Derrin didn't buy it. "Oh yeah?" he challenged.

Malak was now close enough that he lunged at Derrin, pinning him to the floor, and punching him in the jaw.

Derrin laughed, and turned his head so Malak's second punch landed square on one of the Zabrak's horns. Malak yelped, and punched Derrin in the stomach.

"Mph... what happened to Jedi pacifism, Malak?" Derrin taunted.

"You joined the Order." Malak answered coldly, "I'd bet if you'd stayed behind during the war, you'd have driven each and every one of the Masters to take a swing at you, before long. Unfortunately for you, I have more muscle-mass than most of the Masters."

"What about Master Rubeus?"

"I did say most. Besides, he's a softy - it's Vrook you would have had to fear."

"Fear leads to anger-" Derrin quoted, in a feeble impersonation of Master Vandar's voice, "-anger leads to hate, hate leads to-"

"Someone shoving a lightsaber down your throat." Malak finished too cheerfully.

"Now, Malak, be reasonable." Derrin stammered, fearfully.

"I am being perfectly reasonable." Malak answered, "I even had a logical plan for this encounter - punch you, check - threaten you, check - illicit a heartfelt apology under threat of being dropped into the ocean from this height... well, what do you say, Derrin?"

A few of the soldiers, who had previously been terrified of Malak's display of bad temper, now relaxed, the tension shattered. A couple of them even laughed.

Derrin also laughed, though it was obviously forced, "Of course, Malak. I'm sorry." he gave Malak a genuinely sincere kath-pup-eyes look of apology. "I'll never do it again."

"You won't need to, horn-face." Malak said, amusement with a hint of irony in his tone, "I'm keeping the tattoos."

"Coooool." Derrin replied, as Malak stood and offered the obnoxious Padawan a hand to help him up. Derrin accepted the offered hand, and was soon on his feet, "Of course, I'll need to think up a new nickname for you... and a certain Ewok's name really would not suit."

"What did I tell you about mentioning that subject in public?"

"You've made that threat often enough, now, that its impact has worn off."

"All right, then... what other body-part, besides your tongue, could I rip off and impale on your horns, then?" Malak asked, all too congenially. A couple of male soldiers did the maths, and winced.

"A kidney? I've got three of them." Derrin answered innocently.

Malak shook his head, and let go of the Padawan's hand, making a show of wiping his hand on his robe, before wandering towards the door. Derrin took the hint, and didn't follow him.

x x x

The hyperspace trip back to the front would take a few days, and they had nothing much to do, when they weren't in conference with the Admiral, via holocomm.

Revan found Malak in the weapons training room, early into the trip, "Hello, Revan." Malak said, not taking his attention off the practice droid he was sparring with. It was on its maximum difficulty setting, and he had to go easy on it, so as not to wreak it.

"Teach me to fight the way you do." she said flatly.

Malak dodged a blow from the droid, and with a wave of his hand he used the Force to flip the switch to deactivate it. He then deactivated his lightsaber, and turned to face her, "What do you mean?"

"We both know you are the superior swordsman in this room." Revan said calmly, "I wish to learn."

"Why?" Malak asked, taking a step towards her, "I thought you preferred to direct the battle, not to fight personally?"

"That is true." she said calmly. "But the Mandalorians seem to see me as the Republic's leader. They consider the greatest warriors the only ones worthy of notice. And only a truly great warrior and tactician worthy of being given the power the Republic fleet has given me, so quickly. I do not consider myself the Republic's leader - I answer to the Admiral - but in the eyes of the Mandalorians, I am considered the Republic's greatest warrior."

"They've seen me fight. They've only seen you command in battles." Malak protested, his pride wounded, "What makes them think-"

"Because to gain a command rank, Mandalorians must first prove themselves to be great fighters." she answered.

"Why does this make you want to learn to fight better?"

"Because that illusion of skill wouldn't hold on the battlefield." she said calmly, "I know I am competent with a lightsaber, but I want you to teach me to be unstoppable, with both lightsabers and vibroswords."

"Why, exactly? You don't have any plans to fight personally, do you?"

"Yes. I do."

"Who? Why?"

"I've done my research. I can force the Mandaorians to back down. If their enemy's greatest warrior - by which I mean greatest in their eyes - challenges Mandalore to a duel-"

"No!" Malak said firmly. "No way!"

"Why not?!" Revan protested.

"I don't want you to get hurt."

"Then teach me to fight, so I can protect myself. I will challenge Mandalore, at our next encounter with the enemy."

Malak's eyes widened, and he shook his head, "That's too soon! It takes years to become an expert duellist! I don't even claim to be one!"

"Just teach me what you can. Start with vibroswords." Revan said determinedly.

Malak sighed, "Fine... take off that stupid cloak, though."

"I'm going to fight Mandalore wearing my cloak... so I shall learn to fight wearing it." she said flatly. 'End of argument.'

Malak rolled his eyes, and walked over to the wall, to take out two blunted training swords, the same weight as a vibrosword. "If you will insist on wearing that cloak." he said, carrying the two swords over to Revan, "At least push it back over your shoulders, out of your way." She did as he asked. He handed one sword to Revan, and tested the other sword's balance by taking a few experimental swings at thin air with it, and twirling it in his right hand.

Revan watched exactly what he did, and attempted to impersonate it. She dropped the sword when she tried to twirl it, though.

"You're not used to the heavier blade." Malak informed her, "It does take a bit of practice to be able to do that." he twirled his sword again, just to show off.

She scowled, and picked up her sword again, examining it with a suspicious eye, as if she thought it was deliberately being uncooperative. After a minute, evaluating the weapon through the Force, to analyse the composition of the metal itself, she tried a second time, and almost succeeded... but it slipped at the last second, and hit the floor again.

"That's an advanced trick, and all it does is look cool." Malak said bluntly, as if dismissing it, "If you hit someone by doing that, even with a sharpened sword, all you would achieve would be to knock it out of your hand."

"Much less efficient than a lightsaber." Revan murmured, picking up the sword yet again. This was totally new to her - the only weapon the young woman had ever handled before was her own lightsaber. This was not going to be an easy task.

"I could fight him for you." Malak offered.

She shook her head, "This is personal, Malak. I want to kill him myself." Malak sensed the Force wrap around the weapon in her hand, allowing her to twirl it much more flamboyantly than he had.

"That trick won't do you much good if he has Ysalamiri on his ship, Revan." Malak warned.

She looked at him, blinked a few times, surprised... then scowled, 'Damn.'

"Now we should start with the basics." Malak said pointedly.

Revan rolled her eyes sulkily, and nodded, holding the sword in the accepted stance for lightsaber duelling.

Malak sniggered, "No. Like this." his sword was held defensively, rather than offensively, his legs slightly father apart, his left arm held out behind him, for balance, rather than using the Force to balance him. "For a start, you cannot afford to use the Force in this fight you are training for."

Revan scowled, and imitated the way he stood and held his sword. Malak nodded, smiling. She always could assimilate knowledge and details quite spectacularly, and this was no exception - her imitation was perfect. He could tell that she had even blocked off her Force senses.

"You do need to remember the basic rules of lightsaber combat." Malak told her, taking a slow step to his left. Revan stepped to her left, and they very slowly circled each other.

"What Master Quatra taught us in our combat classes." Revan said, nodding, "She wouldn't even let me pick up a training sword until I'd memorised it." Master Quatra was the Weaponsmaster of the Jedi Temple, who trained all of the Guardian Padawans, and many of the other young Jedi, in the art of lightsaber fighting. The practice drills - and the lectures on how to put aside doubt and fear when fighting, never lashing out with anger - would make this easier. The fact Revan knew how to use a lightsaber was both a blessing and a curse - many of the lightsaber's disciplines were similar to those of a vibrosword, but there were enough differences for Revan to trip over.

"With good reason." Malak said flatly. 'Same applies to regular swordfights... control is the key.'

Revan nodded. Malak moved, making his intended line of attack more than obvious. Revan moved her sword to block him easily.

"Don't treat me like a child who's never fought before, Malak." she said coldly, breaking the lock between their swords, and spinning to try to strike his waist - the weapon's weight threw her off balance, and she missed him by a long shot, barely avoiding falling flat on her face.

Malak smirked, "You've never fought with a solid weapon before." he said flatly, watching her with some degree of amusement. This was the first time he had seen her physically stumble. Ever. She was too graceful to do such a thing, normally. "There are certain things you can do with a lightsaber, that you cannot do with a sword. Like, oh, say... deflecting blaster bolts."

Revan pulled a face, as she assumed her defensive stance again, "I knew that one already, Malak." she complained, in a slightly whining tone.

Malak chuckled, "Don't try anything too fancy. Just focus on defence, for now. All right?"

"Fine." she muttered sulkily.

Again, Malak made sure Revan could keep up with him, as he took several swings in her direction - even if she hadn't blocked them, he would at worst have grazed her arms - and their swords made a blunt ringing sound with each swing, as she blocked him easily.

So she could defend herself against a mentally challenged Gammorean. Time to up the pace a bit. His next few swings were faster, smoother, and Revan exerted more effort in making sure her sword was in his way. But she still kept up with him.

'Getting the feel for the weapon, now, angel?'

'It takes some getting used to. I could name something else I'd rather have in my hand...' she thought, smirking. The obscene mental picture she projected with it threw him off-guard, and she tried to take a swing at him. It was relatively clumsy, compared to her finesse with a lightsaber, and he managed to block it before she could make contact.

"That was a cheap shot." he said out loud. She smiled, feigning innocence. "And there's no point pulling a trick like that on me. I'm only trying to help you. And besides... that wouldn't work on Mandalore for a number of reasons."

Revan sniggered slightly, "True."

"Your grip is too loose." Malak informed her bluntly, "You're used to a weightless blade. That thing could fly out of your hand if you swing it hard enough, the way you're holding it."

Revan tightened her grip on the hilt of her sword, reassuming the defensive stance. "Funny." Revan muttered, "After all the times Master Quatra told me I was gripping my lightsaber too tightly..."

"A lightsaber is a totally different weapon." Malak said flatly, "Besides, too tight a grip can cause problems when fighting with a vibrosword, as well."

Revan rolled her eyes, "Figures." she muttered.

Malak took several more swings at her, slowly increasing his speed. He noticed Revan's guard was too high - she left her stomach exposed - he could easily have told her this, but... instead, he re-directed his sword, mid-swing, to aim for her waist. She saw it coming, but couldn't block it with her sword, and instead she dodged, landing unceremoniously on the floor, hitting her right elbow sharply on the unforgiving metal surface.

"Defence is the most important part of duelling." Malak said calmly, transferring his sword to his left hand, and offering her a hand to help her stand up. She took his hand with her left hand, and stood, still holding her sword in her main hand. It was a defensive gesture in itself that she didn't let go of her weapon even when he had done so.

They were both tired, from the exertion. "Perhaps we should continue the lessons tomorrow?" Malak suggested.

Reluctantly, Revan agreed.

x x x

The Defiant made a pit stop for a supply ship to dock with them, mere hyperspace hours from the front lines of the war. Revan and Malak were personally requested to meet with the supply ship's captain. This in itself was unusual, but Revan didn't argue with Captain Karath's suggestion - she may unofficially outrank him, but he was a good leader, and she had nothing better to do.

So it was that they were in the docking bay, watching the supply ship unload its cargo. Malak was being bored. Revan was watching the ship with shrewd interest. 'Can you sense that?' she asked him, in his mind.

'Sense what?'

'Strength in the Force on that ship.'

Malak focused - he couldn't sense the number of lives on the ship, but the ripples in the Force caused by the presence of one of more Jedi, he could definitely detect... at least, when he knew what he was looking for. 'Yes... several Jedi...'

Revan nodded, and approached the ship as a young man stepped off it. He wore Jedi robes in dark green almost black, and he was bald, with a neatly trimmed beard. He bowed respectfully to Revan, "Jedi Revan. My name is Bandon Lamar. News of your exploits during the wars has inspired many of the Knights and Padawans of the Order to join your cause. We came from the enclave on Dantooine, as quickly as we could. Others, from Coruscant, are on their way, as we speak."

Lamar... that name was familiar. Malak knew he should recognise it. 'I know where you remember that from.' Revan's voice practically sang in his mind.

'Enlighten me.'

'Patience, Malak.' Revan nodded to Bandon, "We appreciate all the help we can get." she said, "Tell me, though... your name sounds familiar."

Bandon immediately cringed, but quickly regained his composure, "Yes. I don't doubt it." the way he said it gave the false impression that he thought he was special enough to be well known... but something in the way he had cringed belied that illusion of self-importance.

"Where have I heard the name before?" Revan asked in false innocence.

Bandon seemed to be staring fixedly at a random point in thin air to Revan's right... deliberately avoiding the question.

'Vrook Lamar... that's where we heard it before.' Revan thought.

Malak's eyebrows shot up, for a moment... then he walked over to them, "You're related to Master Vrook?" he asked.

Bandon winced again, "Yes." he said through gritted teeth, "I'm his son."

"You seem to resent this fact." Revan said, her tone emotionless. Normally, Malak would hear concern in her voice, if she sensed that someone felt hurt in this way.

"I haven't seen him since I was five. I don't even remember what he looks like. So why does it matter?" Bandon snapped.

Revan shrugged, "Very well. No matter. Follow me." she turned to lead the group of Jedi out of the room, 'Malak, tell the Admiral we will be joining the fleet around Tulak.'

Malak nodded - she didn't see him, but she knew he had acknowledged her - and he turned to do as she asked.

x x x

Weeks passed, and the new Jedi were quickly distributed throughout the Republic fleet, with warnings to avoid Mandalore's flagship, and why. They proved themselves useful, time and again.

Revan's lessons progressed at a practically inhuman pace, over this time. She was obstinate, as usual, however. She refused to adhere to the traditional fighting styles Malak taught her. Instead, she adapted them to suit her better.

Malak had been relatively smug after her first lesson - vibroswords and lightsabers were the one area in which he truly outshone Revan - but her abilities were catching up with his incredibly fast. It shouldn't be humanly possible to pick up that sort of skill so quickly. It had taken Malak thirteen years to become as skilled as he was with these weapons, and now Revan was learning the same disciplines in mere weeks.

The woman was phenomenal. She was already proficient enough with the vibroswords to give him a run for his money in a practice duel, and it had only been three weeks since they started training. He had convinced her to put off her duel with Mandalore until she was - as she asked to be - unstoppable with a vibroblade. At this rate, it wouldn't take her much longer... when Revan set her mind to something, she really was unstoppable.

x x x