A small asteroid tumbled through space. Its pock-marked surface slowly revolved about an uneven axis. Its flight sharply arced as an unseen hand scooped the rock from its innocent trajectory and deposited it neatly in the gaping maw of a massive space station.
The Star Forge would break the asteroid down into its basic elements, using them to fuel its accelerated construction of a Sith fleet. The team assigned to study the advanced technology of the station had yet to decipher if the mechanism of capture used a precision tractor beam or the magic of the Force. They would probably never know. But as long as it continued to function properly, it didn't really matter.
Smaller particles of debris hit the massive shields surrounding the station. Their impacts created iridescent patches in the usually elusive barrier. As Malak watched the display from the command deck he had a vague nagging feeling that he should have found it beautiful.
Of course, he didn't. A Sith Lord was not moved by such insignificant things. The sight of Revan's blood spilling out of her broken body was the only beautiful thing he was interested in now.
Revan.
It all came back to Revan. It always did. Even in the years at the Jedi Academy, his life had always been connected to hers.
He loved her at the enclave. He was her constant companion. Of all their tight circle, he was the only one who had her full confidence. She cried her tears of frustration at the Council's procrastination on his shoulder.
He bled for her in the Mandalorian Wars. Revan appeared nowhere without him by her side. She was too valuable to die on the battlefield and they all knew it. Malak undertook her security as his duty. Until her final duel with Mandalore, she'd never had cause to face an opponent alone.
He submitted to her when she declared herself a Sith Lord. What did he care for light or dark if Revan led the way? She had uncovered the ancient teachings from Masters Malak never knew and holocrons he never saw. Revan had always led, so he became her apprentice.
He despised her. She taught him too. Sith doctrine creates a hierarchy built on fear and hate. And lust for power. He was no longer her confidant, no longer privy to her secrets and strategies. He no longer saw the woman hidden behind a cold mask. When he heard rumors of a hidden Academy, he founded his own on Korriban. The defiance and presumption in the act cost him his jaw, but the school remained and prospered.
He killed her. Seizing his opportunity at power and revenge, he turned the fleet against her ship destroying not only Revan, but the Jedi strike team sent after them. At least, that's what he had believed until mere months ago.
And she haunted him from her supposed grave. In every meter of space the Republic Fleet reclaimed from his control, Revan mocked him. She was in the main computer of the Star Forge when it spoke to him in languages he couldn't understand or ignored him for days at a time. He could hear her cruel laugh every time he smelled the sweet scent of food he could never taste again. Revan was there when he bedded Bastila. Whether from the women's bond or just his own mind, it was Revan's brilliant blue eyes he saw staring up at him.
She was close enough now to sense through the Force. He felt the cold black vengeance that chilled her presence. He even felt fresh death about her and idly wondered if any of her own crew were part of the carnage. He knew her dark side too well to think that any of his own agents were left on the Rakatan surface. Except perhaps Bastila, but she was no longer his.
He felt Revan approach. Every moment he wasted staring into space and his own memories brought her nearer. It was as it should be. Their united fates demanded a final confrontation. Revan would gain access to the Star Forge and find him, no matter what obstacles he threw in her way. They may delay her arrival, but they would never stop it. She'd risen from the grave at least once to strike back at him. Nothing would prevent their reunion now.
Malak caressed the long hilt of his double-bladed lightsaber. Let her come. He was ready. Ever since their interrupted battle in the belly of the Leviathan he had longed for it.
Revan would come to him. And she would die. Malak would destroy her so completely that there would be no chance of another staged resurrection.
But that's not what happened. As Malak and Revan fought in the belly of the Star Forge, the station chose its champion.
Malak felt the power shift. One moment the awe-inspiring fury of the station's dark side coursed through is veins and the next, it was gone. He was stripped of the additional power he'd enjoyed since Revan's alleged demise and left with only the adrenaline rush of combat.
It wasn't enough. Even had the Star Forge not bestowed its cruel powers on Revan, he still would have been defeated. She was simply too determined. She fought without reservation, with no concern for her own survival. As long as Malak died first, her fate didn't matter. Except to the expansionistic ambitions of the station.
As Malak lay dying he looked to the future he would never live to see. He saw Revan with the galaxy on its knees before her. A never-ending fleet of ships would crowd the space of every star system. The appetite of the Star Forge would be appeased by a constant supply of Jedi sacrifice. The glory of the Infinite Empire and the domination of the ancient Sith would be reborn in her dark reign.
Unless another hero rose to stop her, the resurrection of Revan would be the death of the Republic.