"To have fallen so far and learnt nothing…"

There was a tenseness to the air of the Ebon Hawk. Upon initial entry, upon initial review, the place stunk. Mission commented on as much, assigning T3 the task of cataloguing and cleaning the place. Zaalbar had dealt with it the best, but the more and more they evaluated the smuggler's ship, the more they pinned it in something less physical.

Ah, that was it - the former Dark Lord of the Sith, having become their de facto leader.

The Twi'lek and the Wookiee sighed as the bickering continued, Revan using the central console in the ship's hold to bring up their set of destinations - his new journey. Behind him, Carta had burnt a figurative hole in the back of his head with her eyes, so very suspicious, so angry at him. Across the console, Bastila held firm in her stance, arms crossed across her chest.

"I'd suggest heading to Dantooine. From there we can contact the Council and seek their aide against Malak. Visiting Korriban in your current state would prove… Dangerous," she warned him, cautious of his every move.

"Your suggestion has been noted, Miss Shan. Korriban still remains our destination, however," he replied, dryly.

"Bastila has a point - what's so important about Korriban? What are you going to do, reignite your own empire from there, use it to challenge Malak?" Carta asked him, striding from his back to a free side of the central console.

Revan paused as he brought up the diagram of the galaxy, eyes firmly set on it's borders. Those eyes of his had been soulless and cold, but now held an unmistakable fire. Fear. With that pause, he could feel the hatred for him alleviate - even for a moment. It was as if Bastila and Carta recognised a twinge of humanity in him.

"No… But you two prove a good point. Perhaps I should be less clandestine."

Another pause as he enlarged a section of the dark spaces in the galaxy - beyond known space. Where the stars pittered out and eventually stopped clustering, stopped existing. Where the gaseous clouds of stardust breathed their final breaths.

"My end is here. What drives me, lies here, in the heart of hell itself. Where a threat, bigger than me, bigger than Malak, Exar Kun or Naga Sadow, thrives. It is a primordial consciousness - the collection of a billion beings in one sentient body, capable of untold destruction."

His words were laden with the fear he'd been wracked with. Shaky, gravelly words, that made his two biggest challengers pause. Judging by the encroaching footsteps emanating from the garage, he surmised that he'd woken even the doubtful Caldera Ordo.

"Bastila," he turned to her, "if you've ever questioned what it was that Malak and I saw, what drove us to do what we did, then that is your answer."

Sensing no deception, no untruths or white lies, Bastila felt her jaw drop.

"You… You killed millions-"

"-Yes... To unify the galaxy, to fight that which sought to invade us. The True Sith."

There was nothing for a moment, beyond the troubled breath of the Ebon Hawk's crew - beyond the humming of the starship, and the whir of hyperspace. Even T3 had paused, looking upon the 3 in the hold with curiosity.

"I jested before about the Council's blade in my back, but in truth, 'dying' has set me on a brighter path. My mind is less clouded, less polluted by the hatred, the seduction of my rage, my impatience," he continued, showing the Republic's best his very own Star Map.

His plan, Bastila noted. He was being oddly transparent - whether it was genuine, or a ploy to lure her into a false sense of security, she couldn't discern. The star map aligned with his current trajectory - stopping midway at a point she didn't recognise.

"What is this?"

"What Malak and I sought to use for our defence. The reason as to how we raised a fleet so fierce, so quickly. The Star Forge."

He enlarged it, showing a nearby star, and a blip of where the Forge laid.

"A shipyard," Caldera noted, walking up to the central console with wide eyes. Revan nodded.

"A shipyard which feeds on the dark side of the force, capable of generating armies without stopping. What Malak and I used together before she betrayed me."

Revan met Bastila's horrified gaze. More guilt bled into him. Twisting and gnarling, giving no pause as she and Carta stared on, Caldera peering deeply at the map.

"I recognise that my original methods, my war plans were barbaric. Short-sighted. I could have foreseen the betrayal inherent in the Sith teachings, and how they've shaped the young on Korriban now, but I was blind... I failed."

"You embraced the Sith teachings… As a means to the end of this war? To unify the galaxy?" Carta asked, her voice still echoing with rage.

He nodded.

"I have a new design. Success through domination. Assassination of key targets, as I had done before, to mitigate loss of life. A purge of Sith teachings, and a quarantine of sith artifacts. Control of the Star Forge. And finally, the absorption of the teachings of the old Sith masters, free of their influence."

His new edict, Bastila noted. Domination!?

"Why… Why tell us this? Do you seek our aide - do you think, after all of the pain and suffering you've caused, that we'd help you?" Bastila asked.

Revan nodded.

"Because the alternative is worse. Because, even if you don't believe me - the galaxy will be split after this war. Because, in forsaking what I have witnessed, you will bring about the consumption of all life."

He sighed, and let his head fall, staring down at the console in ennui.

"At the end of that consumption, Bastila, we will not meet the Force. We will meet an abyss, dark and unending."

There was a weight to his words. A truth that she couldn't deny - like he had forced a vision upon her. Bastila hated it. Without further word, she left them, perhaps to meditate, perhaps to control her rage. Revan then turned to Carta, expression sombre. She looked at him, with that dissipating anger, more evaluating now.

The dust motes fell in the air as that stench abated, as their autopilot shot them past Taris' system and into true space. Isolated from all other life, the former Dark Lord looked upon the soldier forlornly. There were guards around her. A blank wall she erected, one designed to cut herself off from others - to remove all chance of trust.

"...Why did you bomb Telos IV?" she asked.

"Malak did, without my order. It was my intention to attack it only if the Jedi had fled to it, and only then, only on the polar ice cap," he answered.

Carta showed no change of expression, and looked once more at the galaxy's map, huffing out a long, drawn out breath. Her expression softened, just by the smallest bit.

"What will you do if I refuse to help you?" she asked.

"Action each step of my plan until it is complete. Fly this ship to Korriban, and drop you off if necessary. But not Bastila; they'd tear her apart, there."

Carta tried her best to discern an expression in his face - a tell. Anything to clarify if he was lying or not. She found nothing beyond the truth - beyond the horrifying mark of the empire he had witnessed. He really had just given his entire plan to them both - to Caldera as well, and for what?

"You really are telling the truth, aren't you?"

He nodded to her, genuinely smiling.

"Lying serves me no purpose - and I will continue despite the resistance the Republic or the Council will throw at me. What you do with the information once we part is your choice, Onasi," he enunciated, stepping away from the console, powering it down.

One less buzz of light filled the hold. Revan now gazed directly upon Carta, trying to read her, and her body language. He saw the sorrow and the loss that weighed upon her; at first through her eyes, and then, through the force. It was the echo of Telos she carried on her shoulders, a colossal loss of life and a personal wound that hounded her. She appeared to be deep in thought for a moment, before returning, staring back at him.

"I'll help you stop Malak. But I refuse to work with you if you harm the innocent," she warned him, resolve steeled.

"I thank you. And you have my word, Carta."

Revan turned his gaze back to Caldera, only to find her gone, perhaps delegating herself back to the garage. He sighed, and turned his attention to the rest of their crewmates; Carta returning to the cockpit. Closing his eyes, he took a breath in, enveloping himself in the energies of his surroundings, interlinking with the life around.

Making his way to medbay, he visited K'Satra, surprised when he saw her sitting at the edge of her bed, already awake. She looked at him, then quickly turned her gaze away, in fear. She had forgone her jacket, leaving herself in a bra and combat pants - a wicked bruise travelling up her left side.

"Are you alright?" he asked, voice soft, quiet.

"As much as anyone can be, having taken a support beam to the chest," she laughed, stopping quickly.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

She went to shake her head, but stopped short. K'Satra looked up to him again, eyes instantly recognising the confident, balanced stance of a Jedi Knight, and chuckled again. Her gaze fell back to the ground. An idea came to her mind.

"Heal me if you can," she demanded, wanting to test the waters. She overheard their conversation. The threat, the real threat they faced. What was left now was a final confirmation - if he truly was a Jedi, then she would join him against that threat.

He crouched near her, and laid a hand to where she had hers previously - cupping over her left ribs. Steadying the soldier with another hand on her shoulder, Revan closed his eyes, and controlled his breathing once more - letting that energy pierce him. For the first time in however long, he used the Force. Bone began to mend, ever so slowly, fixing back into place.

Blood vessels repaired themselves, and the bruising ceased as a calm travelled over the Republic soldier. It was more than her body - more than kolto could do - it was her soul that was being healed, too. As the pieces of her form began to put themselves back into place, she felt a calm wash over her, and bit back a tear or two as Revan finished, cracking his eyes open with a sharp breath. They shared a look, and snapped their gazes away from each other.

He then rose from the ground, hand still on her shoulder.

"Better?"

"Yeah. Thanks," she whispered, rising from the bed, shakily. He went to leave her, turning his back, but stopped - hand on the circular frame of the medbay's door.

"You overheard," he noted.

"Despite the pain meds, you were still only about 5 meters away from me. So yeah," she chuckled, singing praise when it didn't hurt like hell, "I overheard."

Deathly silence befell them as K'Satra tried to put a face to their threat - the threat he spoke of. Jedi were leagues beyond soldiers like her, and Revan was a step even above them. What could've possibly scared him so? As Revan's words fell upon her, truly. The worst warning she'd received as a soldier, a warrior.

"If you wish to leave-" he began, voice cut short.

"-I don't. What I need to do is get a message back to the Ulgo family on Alderaan, and whoever's left on Taris among the few that bitch Selven didn't kill," she advised him, hand on his shoulder now. "If what you say is true, then we need all the support we can get. Not just the Republic, but it's outliers, even the Organa family. I'll… See what I can do," she promised.

He nodded, placing a hand on hers, before slipping away.

"Thank you."

He darted to the barracks on the portside, where he sensed another presence. Mission. She was stuck in a quiet, numb calm, not quite staring at him when he walked in. The plucky young hellraiser was now distraught. Displaced.

"How are you holding up?"

"I'm," she paused, for a good long while, finally staring at him, "okay. H-honestly, I thought I'd be a lot worse off than I'm feeling right now. It's… It's not every day that you're forced to evacuate your home planet. At least I've got Big Z," she sighed, trying to realign herself.

"You have my apologies. Relocation never gets easier, but you do learn to become stronger for it," he said.

"Pfft, sure. I'll let you know how much I can lift once I'm past this trauma. I mean, come on, if that were true, I'd be a bodybuilder by now," she joked, eliciting a laugh from the former dark lord.

"Fair, though your spirit is more malleable than you'd imagine. There will be times where you will remember the darkness, later in life, but with your friends, you'll get past them."

"True, true," she mumbled, eyes darting away again as that doubt returned.

"Is there something wrong?"

"N-no, I just," she sighed again, "finding it hard to believe who you are. You're a war criminal, well, actually… No, wait-"

"No," he interrupted her, "war criminal fits. Go on."

"Malak's now aware of who you are. You said it yourself - she's seen your face, she knows who we've been talking to, and she knows we've got the Hawk. It's just going to be… It feels like we're stacked against impossible odds here," she went on, worried.

He could only nod, "again, you have my apologies. And, that was my first reason for visiting you."

"O-oh?" she asked.

"Do you wish to travel with me, still? Knowing who I am, I mean," he asked back.

The air between them thickened, again, amidst that stuffy, smelly ship. Mission found it difficult to come to an answer, to think and to align herself to it. She sighed as she tried to calm herself once more, finally staring back at him.

"I can't say I'm in support of what you did, 'cept maybe going against the Mandalorians, but… As long as Big Z follows you, I'll stick around. Besides," she snickered, "I'm still trying to comprehend how much more boring you are compared to your previous… Y'know, you."

Another pause. A stare. A blink, and then, finally, laughter. Erupting into quiet giggles, the former dark lord shook his head, and sighed.

"Fair. Wanton murder is no longer my goal, and we may yet use the Republic's infrastructure to secure a victory, build a defence," he noted. "Still - I appreciate the assistance. Your expertise will be invaluable in the times to come."

Leaving her be, he nodded, and turned heel. Sighing, feeling the energies of the ship begin to balance; feeling his mind begin to stop hurting, he closed his eyes, and wandered. Letting his mind guide him, he felt the primal presence of Zaalbar pass by him - seeing the mind focused, at work.

Deciding not to interrupt her at this moment, Revan continued until he found himself in the storage room - the sounds of exertion, the sounds of a saber swinging, hitting his ears. The brilliant displacement of air and light as a keen yellow blade cut through it with ease - in practiced, precise movements.

She was powerful, he thought. Trained, but just barely, hinting at the greater power she could've held. Bastila swung that lightsaber staff with ease - dodging, weaving, and ducking against an opponent that wasn't there - a vent, for her rage?

The way she moved and tensed, even as she darted a quick look back to him, he could tell it was Makashi. No doubt she was preparing herself, keeping herself on the edge, should a dark Jedi accost them - or using that as an excuse.

"Your form is," he paused, thinking of his next words carefully, "brilliant."

"I do not wish to speak to you," she uttered, retracting her blade, wiping the sweat from her brow.

"Now, or ever?"

"Yes."

She went to exit - to storm off, but he blocked her.

"Like it or not, we will be stuck in hyperspace on this ship for a while. And until we find a planet that isn't crawling with Sith, you will remain in my company-" he spoke.

"-Against my will-" she interjected.

"-And with our party. Acting like a child will get you nowhere, and you will be left stewing in your rage and irritation."

"I am not acting like a child! Surely you of all people can see my position here; it was my job to monitor you, to ensure this," she motioned to him, his head, vaguely, "did not happen. I have failed, and-"

"-Forgive me. I didn't realise I came off so apathetic."

That changed her tone. Her face stopped scrunching as she let the anger slip from her - still marred by suspicion and doubt, however.

"I couldn't be more aware of your plight, and I understand the situation you're in. I know you don't believe me - but I am not lying. The war I now fight is one against the Sith, one of conversion," he advised her.

"Conversion? Was it not conversion when you were fighting alongside Malak - to convert or kill us Jedi? Tell me, please, what exactly has changed since my attack? Because from where I'm standing, from what I can read of you - you're still the same presence I fought on your flagship. The man that stands before me is a reborn Sith Lord."

He paused for a moment.

"What changed? I woke up. As I felt the struggles, the vying for life and the death of too many good people on Taris, I awoke. I was made aware, thanks to you, of the echoes of my actions," he answered her, truthfully.

"I am the same man who ordered the death of millions, and slaughtered thousands by hand. I am the man who has created the threat the Republic now faces. I am the man, who now, wishes to spare the bloodshed. Throw me in jail for the remainder of my years if you wish - purge my identity and puppet me again if you so please - but give me the chance to make those lives I took matter," he continued.

Her doubt began to falter, and her expression turned contemplative.

"...Then tell me - once you amass a force large enough to start countering the Sith - how do you plan on converting them? How do you plan on turning them to your side?" she asked.

"The Force. I used it once before to convert Jedi to Sith, and I can use it again to convert them back. Or rather, to make them see the threat I do. The cause I lead," he answered.

"And how soon do you plan to face Malak? In your current state-"

"I can't. Since being attacked, being reawakened, the Force has not returned to me as it once did. There is a cloud on my mind - an edge that guarantees Malak victory, should we cross paths. I…"

Bastila waited on the word, shocked. "You what?"

"I need a lightsaber. My mask-"

"-No," she sighed, challenging, "for the love of-, no! You can't - you understand that I can't trust you-"

"-So you know where my mask is? Where my sabers are?" he asked, wanting so desperately to smile, but hiding it.

"I… You," she blushed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "No! To think you were the one who saved us from the Mandalorians…"

"I know, you're appalled," he jested, sighing, "it's written all over you, mistress Jedi."

"I implore you, take us to Dantooine. If this threat, your declaration is true, then we can seek help from the council. If not, then you can reconstruct your lightsabers-"

"-You think much too highly of Vrook. The second my foot steps out on Dantooine's surface he'll have Kavarr hound me-"

"-They carry no such hatred of you, they are above such things-"

"-They'd sooner see their padawans shielded from a war than have my head. But do not think them above contempt, Bastila."

Bastila sighed, so very deeply, resigning herself to this awful fate. To be paraded, in a mildly ironic fashion, to the galaxy. Her, Bastila Shan, the companion of a Sith Lord!

"There is no emotion," she began, turning heel from Revan, igniting her sabre, "there is peace."

"There is no ignorance," Revan mumbled to himself, musing on the words. "There is knowledge."

He turned, again, but found himself stopping. Instinct. Her eyes were upon him again, staring at the back of his head.

"The Council told me your mind was shattered. That there wasn't enough of you to recreate… You. They told me that we, the Republic, needed to find the Star Forge, to counter Malak before she could find out about us, and I-" she began.

"-The Council, as they have before, lied… Tell me, do I appear calm to you?" he asked.

"W-What?"

"Do I appear calm? Does my presence in this ship seem steady?"

Confused, Bastila breathed, and focused. She appraised him through the force, closing her eyes and feeling him throughout the interconnecting rays of life in between them.

"I… Suppose? What are you on about? What does this have to do with the Council?"

"If I appear calm, then it is a smokescreen. I am consumed by rage. My empire was on the cusp of dominating the Republic and I let slip my defences enough for Malak to betray me, for you to capture me and for my mind to be wiped. Wiped. You did not kill me, but to wake and find that months had passed, that my image had been shattered and my belongings stolen, well…"

"You wished that I had killed you? That is not the Jedi-"

"-Care I not about the pacifistic stagnation of the Council, mistress. What I care about is now controlling myself. Freeing myself from fear. Letting slip my anger. For if I step foot on Dantooine, I shall not be able to control myself yet. I would-"

He stopped himself, turning his gaze back to Bastila. Her eyes were wide open now as she felt a flash of energy emanate from him - a blistering bright burst of boundless energy. Of hatred.

"I am sorry," he apologised, hanging his head low. "If you wish to keep yourself apprised of our destination, and our current goals, then please, keep your ears listening."

He then left. But felt her linger. When he turned his back in the hallway leaving the cargo hold, he heard her practicing still, but felt Bastila behind him, as if her presence didn't leave him. Revan couldn't help but snicker, setting his eyes on the garage of the Hawk. It was there he saw their resident Mando tinkering away at her repeating blaster rifle, affixing the barrel as she finalised her upgrades.

"I'm still not convinced this isn't some act, you know," Caldera greeted him, storing her rifle away, keeping her eyes sharp.

"As if I never committed a feint in my life," Revan teased, shaking his head.

That caught her off guard, eliciting a rare, genuine chuckle from the warrior. She sat, and offered him one too, grabbing a kit from in between some storage crates. Peering closer, Revan found them to be stims, medical kits used to enhance a being beyond their natural limits.

"You say you're Revan, but battle has yet to prove that. You know of Revan, but the galaxy does too. You speak like Revan would, but every soldier under him heard his words. You share Revan's knowledge of-"

"I get it," he sat, opposite her, "only time will tell, only battle will provide proof. I suppose I could go on about my duel with Mandalore the Ultimate, but I think that would bore you."

He reached for a nearby vibroblade - one he picked up at the Endar Spire, and began unscrewing it's pommel, intent on improving it's grip. As he did, the gentle squeaks of metal and oil fluttering about its end, Caldera shot her eyes up at him, evaluating him.

"A good story is a good story, but without proof, you'd be sputtering smoke up my exhaust port," she chuckled, shaking her head of his lies.

"I'm sure you'd hate that," he teased again, smiling, swapping the sword's basic grip with an attuned, gritty one, sourced from the workbench. He stood, sealing the pommel back on, and wielded it, slicing through the air.

"Save yourself for the one with the fat rear - and come back to me with that spirit once you've gotten yourself some training," she groaned. "That is, if I stay that long with you people."

"Oh?" he asked, ignoring her raunchy remark. "Going so soon?"

"Waste my time, and I'll leave. Provide me with credits or challenge, and I'll stick by you - but so far, you seem to have neither of those things."

Revan couldn't help but smile. A plan was forming in his head - one that benefited greatly by having the Mando alongside him. Her will, her beliefs were strong, if simple, but she would make a great ally, he thought. All he had to do was gain her trust.

"Malak's empire not enough for you? Well, then I implore you to join me on Korriban's surface once we dock, Caldera. If not for the rare artifacts we may be able to plunder, then as witness to a challenge."

Satisfied, at least for that moment, Caldera's judging eyes abated. She continued her work with her stims, and let Revan leave her company, noting the blade he kept with him. Revan continued, back to Zaalbar's way, finding the Wookiee still at the holotable, feigning work now.

"Your thoughts, Zaalbar?"

The Wookiee slowly looked up from the table, and blinked.

"If what you say is true, then we will need a bigger ship, with bigger guns," she trilled, tone low.

"Any modifications you can make to this ship, with T3's help, will be appreciated," he nodded to her, eyes darting to T3 as the droid rolled up from the security room.

"If you're willing, and able, that is," he smiled at them both. Zaalbar shook off the humour, and the droid buzzed and clicked back at him, nodding.

Approaching the cockpit, finding Carta sitting at the helm, Revan reached for the ship's onboard announcement microphone, and took a deep breath. Carta quickly looked at him, tensing as his voice boomed over the ship's speakers.

"Passengers of the Ebon Hawk," he began, "we set course for Korriban. Upon its surface we will find Sith, soldiers, students, and teachers alike. These impressionable minds will lead us to a foothold against Malak's empire, and will play vital roles in the times to come. In the same, we will find artifacts of ancient ladies. From these, I hope to learn from their failures, and to purge their corrupting influence."

He paused, looking to Carta. "Should you wish to leave, then you may choose Korriban to do so. But, if you wish to stay - if you wish to defend the galaxy against the foulest being it has ever seen… Then may the Force be with us."