Part 2

Darth Revan marched down the corridor towards the ship's medical bay, a coldly ruthless air of purpose in his every movement. The Sith medics started in alarm as they heard his footsteps approaching, and nervously averted their eyes as the tall, cloaked figure swept into the room. "Well?" he demanded, without a pause. "Is he conscious?"

Swallowing his fear, the chief medical officer forced himself to meet the eyes behind the evil-looking red mask. "Yes, Lord Revan," he replied. "Fully conscious."

"And in pain?"

"I believe so, my Lord."

"Good." Without another word, Revan strode off towards the operating room. Heaving a collective sigh of relief, the medics returned to their work.

The Dark Lord entered the dimly-lit room with a slow, heavy tread. Malak was lying motionless on the operating table, a medical droid still hovering over him; his face was twisted in pain, and he was breathing heavily. Smiling grimly, Revan removed his mask and switched on the light above the table.

"Well, my 'friend', how are you feeling?" Malak blinked in the harsh light, raising his fingers to his chin. His hand jerked back when it touched the cold metal.

"My – my jaw..." He could hardly speak.

"You tried to kill me." Just for a moment the hard mask slipped from Revan's face, and his eyes blazed with anger and bitterness. "You tried to kill me, Malak."

Malak's voice was barely audible. "I thought... stronger..."

Revan snorted. "Stronger? Don't make me laugh. I could take you with both hands tied my back." He leaned over his apprentice, a savage light in his eyes. "I'm letting you live because you're more useful to me alive than dead. But if you ever try anything like that again you will die... slowly. Understand?"

"Yes..."

"Yes, what?"

Malak grimaced, forcing out the words with an effort. "Yes, Master."

"Good." The door slammed.

Revan woke with a start, his heart racing. It wasn't the first time a fragment of memory had broken through the fog that shrouded his past life, but there had never yet been one so clear, so intact. So that was how Malak had been so disfigured...

Had all those thoughts and feelings, which now filled him with such revulsion, really been part of him? When he thought back to the dream it was like looking at another person, whose motives and emotions were utterly foreign to him. He shivered and tried to push the memory to the back of his mind, wanting only to forget that it had ever existed.

Bastila was still nestled in his arms; he could feel the soft curves of her body against his. He opened his eyes and looked down at the sleeping woman, brushing a hand over her damp skin. Lying there with her long hair strewn over the pillow, she looked painfully fragile and vulnerable, and for the first time he noticed the faint marks of Malak's tortures on her bare arms and neck.

His heart swelled with fury. How dare anyone ill-treat her, how dare they degrade her in this way? Just the thought of anyone else's hands touching her was agony to him. Suddenly he wanted her so badly that it was almost too much to bear, and he lay back with a groan. He couldn't stay here any longer; it would drive him insane...

Sighing, he disentangled her from his arms as and slid off the bed; to his relief, she did not wake. He arranged the covers over her as carefully as possible, then leaned over and kissed her very gently on the forehead. She smiled contentedly in her sleep as he crept over to the door and quietly stole out of the cabin.

He had hoped to return to his room without being seen, but luck was not with him. As he stepped cautiously out into the corridor, he was immediately confronted by the sight of Carth Onasi walking towards him from the other direction. The Republic soldier smiled briefly at him and then paused, a slightly confused expression coming over his face.

"Morning, Revan." His eyes slid over to Bastila's door. "Um... isn't that Bastila's room?"

Seeing no way out, Revan nodded. Carth's glance took in his dishevelled state and lack of clothing, and curiosity got the better of politeness. "Did you two... er...?"

"No, we didn't," Revan replied shortly. Seeing his friend's skeptical expression, he went on quickly: "She – she was having nightmares and I went to comfort her, that's all. OK?"

Carth clearly did not believe him, but he was tactful enough not to pursue the point any further. "Whatever. It's none of my business, I guess..." Shrugging, he walked off down the corridor, leaving the red-faced Jedi to return to his room and try to work off his embarrassment.

It was mid-morning by the time Revan arrived in the small kitchen that had been reserved for the use of the Hawk's crew. Most of his friends were already gathered there, eating breakfast or standing around and sipping coffee. They greeted him warmly as he entered: "Hey there, Revan. Had a good night?"

"Um... okay, I guess. I didn't sleep too well." He turned away and began to serve himself some food, hoping to avoid further questions. Carth looked as if he was trying not to smile, but said nothing.

There was a minute or so of silence, punctuated only by the clatter of knives and forks. Finally Mission, who had been fidgeting nervously for a while, plucked up courage and spoke. "Er... Rev? Do you know if Bastila's OK?"

Revan took a sip of his drink, then put down his cup and looked across the table at the young Twi'lek. "Yes, I think so," he replied, trying to sound casual. "Why?"

"Well, it's just that I haven't seen her for ages." Her small, earnest face was filled with concern. "And her room is next to mine, and, well... I was half asleep, but I'd swear that last night I heard her cry out. You know, like she was in pain or something?"

"She probably had a bad dream. I – I'm sure she's fine." Carth gave a cough which sounded suspiciously like laughter, but Mission nodded, apparently satisfied with this explanation. Just as they were about to resume eating, however, the door opened and Bastila herself entered the room.

"Good morning." She looked pale and tired, and there were dark circles under her eyes. Most of the others murmured greetings before tactfully returning to what they were doing, but Canderous was not about to let her off so easily. Bastila had never made any secret of her dislike for him, and now that she had so thoroughly disgraced herself, he took a vengeful delight in taunting her.

"Well, I see that the Jedi Princess has finally decided to honour us with her presence." He leaned against the wall, smiling at her with the faint, mocking insolence he always adopted when speaking to the young Jedi. "You've been hiding yourself away long enough. Guilty conscience, maybe?"

Bastila ignored him and busied herself with the food dispenser, but Revan could sense how each word stung her. He groaned inwardly; the events of the previous night had left him in a foul mood, and Canderous's behaviour was not helping to improve it. Shut up, Canderous, he willed silently, trying to convey the message through the Force - but the Mandalorian remained typically impervious to any kind of indirect persuasion.

"It didn't take you long to abandon all your precious Jedi principles, did it?" he jeered. "Malak was a fool. If I were him I'd have thought twice about trusting a little turncoat like you."

This was more than Bastila could stand. Blanching with anger, she turned glacier-blue eyes on her tormenter. "I hardly think I need a lesson in loyalty from you, Mandalorian." Her voice was like the blade of a scythe. "Perhaps you've forgotten that we're only here because you betrayed your previous employer? You may fawn over Revan now and tell him what a great warrior he is, but if Malak had defeated him you'd be his lap-dog instead."

A grin spread over Canderous's face. "So now I'm a 'lap-dog', am I?" he drawled. "Well, I'll tell you something: I'd rather be Revan's lap-dog than Malak's whore."

Bastila shook visibly, almost dropping the cup she was holding. Revan heard her gasp in pain as the hot liquid slopped over her hand, and it was the final straw. He stood up, slamming his empty mug down on the table with a force that made the others look up in astonishment, and walked slowly and deliberately over to Canderous. Before the surprised Mandalorian had time to work out what was happening, Revan punched him so hard in the face that his head smacked into the wall behind him.

"Don't. Ever. Say that about Bastila again," he snarled through clenched teeth. Without a word, the young woman flung down her cup and rushed out of the room. After a moment Revan turned on his heel and strode after her, leaving a circle of shocked faces behind him – excitement on Mission's, concern on Jolee's and Juhani's, and barely-concealed delight on Carth's. Even T3-M4 let out a few surprised beeps.

Canderous, for his part, was momentarily stunned, but it didn't take him long to return to his senses. Swearing viciously in his own language, he grabbed his blaster and lurched towards the door – only to find his way blocked by a huge, furry body. "Out of my way, dustball," he growled at Zaalbar. "When I get my hands on –"

"I wouldn't, you know." Jolee's voice was quiet, yet forceful. "Remember who you're talking about. If you go after Revan now you'll probably end up with a lot more than a black eye."

Angry as he was, Canderous still retained enough sense to recognise the truth of Jolee's words. He scowled and sank down into a chair, rubbing his jaw. "What the hell is wrong with the guy?" he demanded furiously.

Carth tapped him on the shoulder and said something in a low voice. His mouth fell open in astonishment. "What, Revan and the Ice Queen there? You're kidding." Carth shook his head, and the Mandalorian threw up his hands in exasperation. "Well, maybe if someone had told me..."

Revan, meanwhile, had finally found Bastila in a nearby washroom, running her hand under the cold water. Without even looking at him she said quietly, "Please don't do that again, Revan. I can fight my own battles."

He sighed. "I know. I'm sorry. It's just... I guess I'm still feeling guilty about not being able to protect you, that's all."

She turned to him, a hint of a smile on her face. "Well, I appreciate your... chivalry, but I think you may be over-compensating a little."

He laughed ruefully, and the tension between them relaxed a little. "Oh, dear," he breathed. "Canderous isn't going to forgive me in a hurry, is he?"

She looked up at him in amusement. "Do you think he'll insist on fighting a duel with you?"

"Not if he has any sense." He took her hands in his, and his face grew more serious. "Um, Bastila, about what happened last night..."

"Ah." She cringed, remembering how she had cried out and struck at him, and the look on his face as he lay there on the floor. "Yes, I... I owe you an apology for my behaviour, Revan. It was... foolish of me."

"Don't apologise, Bastila," he said gently. "It was my fault as much as yours. I should never have pushed you into anything like that so soon after what happened to you."

"But you couldn't have known..."

He shook his head. "No, but I knew you'd been hurt. And I could tell you were afraid of something... I should have been more careful."

"I ought to have told you," she muttered. In reply he only squeezed her hands; then he let go of them and slipped his arms around her waist, gazing tenderly into her face.

"Are you sure you don't want to talk to someone else about this?" he murmured. "Maybe Juhani –"

She flinched. "No. Please, I don't feel ready to tell anyone else yet." She hesitated for a moment. "If I'm going to talk to anyone about it, I'd prefer it to be you."

"Whenever you want, Bastila."

Slowly she nodded her head. "All right. Meet me in the recreation room tonight while the others are having dinner."

"And you'll tell me what happened?"

"Yes. Everything."

To their mutual relief, Revan and Canderous contrived to avoid each other for the rest of the day. However, Revan still had to put up with the others' amused remarks whenever he ran into any of them. Carth's was typically concise: "Nice one, Rev!"

Jolee was more circumspect. "You want to watch out for that Dark Side, young man."

"I know," he said sheepishly. "But honestly, Canderous couldn't have picked a worse thing to say under the circumstances." Suddenly he longed to share the burden with someone. "Jolee, Malak's men raped her."

The old man's eyes widened in shock. "Raped?" His face filled with pity as Revan slowly nodded his head. "Damn it," he muttered. "Poor kid. No wonder..."

"I love her so much, Jolee..." The old Jedi heard the undertones in the younger man's voice, and sighed.

"Just you stick with her, kid," he warned. "She's going to need you."

--------

The ordeal seemed to go on for hours. It wasn't the pain that she couldn't stand – while hideous, it was nothing compared to some of the tortures she had already suffered. No, what was truly unbearable was the utter humiliation, the indignity of having her body violated in this way. The knowledge that to these men she was nothing more than a slave, a toy...

Malak watched impassively throughout the entire proceedings, deaf to her screams and her pleas for mercy, a cold smile on his face. When it was finally over and she lay there half-naked and bleeding, sobbing with rage and despair, he crossed the room and knelt down beside her. For one terrible moment she thought her torment was going to begin again, but instead she felt his fingers loosen the collar around her neck; then he seized her by the hair, pulling her face up to his.

"Well, child?" he rasped into her ear. "Do you still believe Revan will come for you now?" He drew her face even closer, forcing her to look directly into his pale, bloodshot eyes. "Do you think he'll even want you after this?"

She cried out as if she had been struck. Malak released her, letting her head fall back to the ground, and stood up. "We shall see," he said softly. "I have plenty more men, Bastila."

At this moment, something inside her finally snapped. She howled with fury, hurling a blast of Force lightning at him that should have fried him to a crisp, yet he only laughed... Still she blasted him again and again, screaming curses at him, all the anger and hatred she had suppressed for so long overflowing into a torrent of frenzied rage. Cascades of wild, untamed Force energy gushed through her, draining her last reserves of strength, yet fuelling her passion and loathing ever further. Until finally she collapsed from sheer exhaustion, the sound of his laughter still ringing in her ears...

Bastila described everything in as few words as possible, her voice brittle and emotionless. Revan remained silent throughout, cradling her protectively in his arms as she tried to put into words a pain beyond anything he could imagine. As she went on she felt his pulse quicken and his muscles grow taut, anger and frustration seething inside him until he could barely contain it any longer.

"The bastard..." He was almost trembling with anger, squeezing her so tightly that she could hardly breathe. "Gods, if I had Malak here now –"

"Shhh," she whispered. "Calm yourself. Use the Force."

He nodded, breathing in deeply, and his hold on her gradually relaxed. "But – you became his apprentice?"

"I hated him," she said simply. "I hated him. But I couldn't stand it any longer, Revan. You have no idea how... how worthless it made me feel to be treated like that. I felt so pathetic..."

"Pathetic?" He gazed down at her, shaking his head. "You survived a week of Sith torture and you call yourself pathetic?"

"But it didn't make any difference. All this power I'm supposed to have and I still couldn't stop them doing those things to me." A shudder ran through her. "And he kept telling me that you'd abandoned me. He said that you'd just been using me, like the Jedi and the Republic, and now you didn't need me any more you'd never come back."

A look of agony crossed his face. "Oh, Bastila, I swear I came as fast as I could. I never stopped thinking about you..."

She nodded. "I know that now. But they kept torturing me all the time, they never let me sleep... I thought I'd been there for weeks." Her voice quivered with agitation. "And then... you know what they did. I just couldn't believe that you'd allow that to happen if you felt anything at all for me..."

He let out an anguished groan, burying his face into her shoulder. "Forgive me," he mumbled, his eyes damp with tears. "Forgive me."

"I'm the one who should be asking for forgiveness," she retorted. "I should never have allowed myself to believe his lies. It wasn't just me he wanted to hurt, Revan, it was you as well..."

Revan said nothing; he knew that she was right. Malak had waited years to take revenge on his former master, and then out of the blue had come an opportunity he could only have dreamed of: the chance to steal away what Revan loved above all else, whilst finally and irrevocably securing his own power. The fact that it meant destroying an innocent woman's life was nothing to him...

"Malak was a monster," she said bitterly. "A heartless, sadistic monster. I can't believe you could ever have been as bad as he was."

Revan shook his head sadly, thinking back to his dream. "Don't kid yourself, Bastila. I was, I'm afraid."

"But you came back..."

"Only because of you."

Neither of them spoke again for several minutes. Finally Revan raised his head and drew a deep breath, as if steeling himself for something. "Bastila, what's going to happen about... us?"

She sighed. "Look, it's not that I don't want to... to make love to you. But I just don't think I'm ready yet, not after what happened..."

"Then we'll wait," he said quietly. "I don't want to force you into anything you're not ready for."

Though he spoke calmly, Bastila could sense how much effort it cost him to suppress his desire for her, and she felt a sudden rush of tenderness and affection for him. "Oh, Revan." Her eyes were filled with love and regret. "I wish it could have been with you the first time..."

"It will be." She looked up at him in surprise. "What those Sith scum did to you wasn't sex, it was torture. It'll be different for us, I promise."

She nodded silently and laid her cheek against his, enjoying the feeling of his strong, comforting arms around her. Revan slowly began to twist a strand of her hair around his finger, his mouth curving into a faint smile. "Your mother is going to kill me," he muttered.

She laughed. "Not when I tell her what you did for me. She'll learn to love you as well, eventually." Despite herself, she couldn't help feeling a certain amusement as she pictured the conversation: "Mother, this is my boyfriend Revan. He's sweet and kind and – yes, I know he used to be the Dark Lord of the Sith, but that's all behind him now..."

Suddenly a thought struck her. "Revan, what about the Council?"

"Well, what about them?" he murmured, still playing with her hair.

"They might – say that we can't be together." Her voice sank to a whisper. "They might want to put me on trial..."

"No." He spoke with firm assurance. "They won't do that, Bastila. No one could blame you for going to the Dark Side after they hear what happened to you."

"But if they try to separate us?" There was a note of pleading in her voice.

Revan looked straight into her eyes. "Listen, my love," he said steadily. "Whatever happens, I promise I won't let anyone take you away from me again. I need you, Bastila."

She breathed out shakily and closed her eyes, relief flooding over her. Revan bent his head until their faces were almost touching. "I love you," he murmured.

She smiled up at him. "I know..." Gently, his lips met hers.

A little later, Jolee Bindo was walking back towards his room when he came across Juhani a short way down the corridor. She was standing in front of an open door, gazing intently at something within the room. As he approached she turned and put a finger to her lips, beckoning him to come closer.

"Come. Let me show you something." He walked over and peered into the room, curious to see what she found so fascinating, and what he saw there brought a lump to his throat.

Bastila and Revan were sitting together on one of the sofas in the recreation room, wrapped in each other's arms. They were far too absorbed in each other to notice that they were being observed. What struck Jolee the most was not their embrace, however, but the strange ripples they produced in the Force as it flowed over them. When the Jedi were apart it swirled tempestuously around them, whirling and churning like a hurricane; but as they sat there together it seemed to subside into a calm, tranquil breeze, drifting protectively around the young couple.

"Can you feel it?" whispered Juhani. He nodded, his eyes still fixed on the two beings who sat entwined in such perfect harmony, oblivious to everything around them.

"Well," he muttered finally. "If the Council can't see that those two belong together, they're bigger fools than I ever imagined." Noiselessly he slid the door to. "Come on, let's leave 'em in peace."

Together they crept off down the corridor, leaving the two young lovers alone with each other.