Okay, this is a revised chapter. I took into consideration some of the reviews I received on this, and decided to fix it a little bit. Yes, there's more cussing in this chapter than probably any of the others, and no, I didn't put in the "best part", but I did make it slightly more teasing, just because I felt like it.

On a completely random and unimportant note, I WENT TO THE DISTURBED CONCERT YESTERDAY, AND IT ROCKED! If anybody likes Disturbed, I would recommend them live, as they sound pretty awesome.

One last thing.

Recommended song(s) for this chapter: Taking Me Alive by Dark New Day for the torture scenes, and Sooner or Later by Breaking Benjamin for when Malak tells 'Vincent' he's Revan.


As soon as Vincent entered the med bay, all of his injuries seemed to amplify themselves tenfold. Limping over to the wall of computer screens and consoles, he switched the program on, specified his injuries and limped back to the table in the middle of the room.

"Please remove your shirt."

Vincent jumped; no one had informed him that the computer talked. Mentally shrugging, he grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it up and over his head, depositing the garment on the floor.

"Please confirm. Your injuries are: cracked and broken ribs on both the left and right side, multiple contusions with massive hematoma on right shoulder, previous dislocation injury to right shoulder, possible broken left wrist, severed Achilles tendon of right ankle – attempted kolto treatment, and a probable concussion."

Vincent paused a moment to make sure that the computer had covered it all before responding.

"Yes, that's correct."

"Lie down on the medical table and relax. This will feel a bit odd, but it is simply a scan for your pulse rate, respiration rate, and blood pressure."

The Jedi reclined on the table and relaxed as best he could, wondering what he was supposed to feel during this scan. Abruptly, a cold tingle swept through his right arm and upper chest causing him to inhale sharply. Vincent tried to let the air out in small, controlled breaths, as any fast expansion or decompression of his ribcage was painful.

"You could've warned me before you did that," he muttered.

"I will remember to do that next time," the computer replied. "If you would relax again..." Vincent did as the feminine voice asked. "Lie still, and breathe as normally as possible. I am calculating the extent of the damage to your ribcage, Vincent."

He found it amusing that the computer actually knew his name. A small droid that looked much like a combat reconnaissance model floated to a halt above his abdomen. A wide beam shot out of a small projector on its face and scanned slowly over his chest and stomach, going vertically on one pass and laterally on the second. Vincent briefly wondered how that would give the computer a three dimensional image of his axial skeleton but he didn't dwell on the thought. Two curved pieces of metal were coming up out of the table, and they reminded him far too much of a restraining device.

"This is not to hold you down. It is to heal your damaged ribcage. Keep still."

The computer hadn't lied to him yet, so Vincent didn't move. Something flashed brightly; Vincent felt like someone had run him over with a speeder and then...nothing. It took him a moment, but the Jedi soon realized that he could breathe freely without pain.

"Uh...what was that thing?"

If it was even possible, the computer sounded amused. "I simply gave the cells in your bones, the osteoblasts and osteoclasts, and the mitochondria in your muscles a supercharge so to speak. I gave them enough energy to do in seconds what would normally take them weeks, or even months. It is a form of extremely accelerated healing. Essentially, it's what I'll be doing to all of your injuries."

"Ah," Vincent said. "Sweet. So now what do I need to do?"

"Sit up for me, if you will. Extend your right leg like you are attempting to stretch your hamstring. Let your foot stay loose; I need to see what state your ankle is in."

Vincent shifted his position to fit "her" orders. The small droid was scanning again, and the Jedi let his mind wander. He gave the fact that most ship computers had female voices most of his thought. He didn't see the point, but he figured he rather be told that they were being attacked by a sexy, feminine voice than a harsh male one. Especially if he planned to be out in space for long periods of time.

"Vincent, daydreaming is a healthy break for the mind, but I would appreciate it if you would pay attention," the computer said with a hint of irritation.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "What was I supposed to do?"

"Rotate your ankle in circles for me. I'm checking range of motion." He did as he was told and grimaced at the discomfort it caused. "Let me guess, you tried a quick fix?"

Vincent grinned. "What exactly is a quick fix?"

"You injected kolto via a syringe directly into your ankle, waited until it felt good and then decided to actually use your foot like normal. I'm going to put a maximum time limit of about two minutes that I believe you let this injury rest before becoming active again."

"You would be exactly right. I didn't have much of a choice."

"If at all possible, refrain from doing that in the future. The droid is going to inject your ankle with a much more effective treatment now."

Vincent felt a sharp prick in the back of Achilles before all of the pain simply melted away, much like it did with his ribs.

"Lie back down. I'm going to look at your left wrist, right shoulder and your head now."

He obeyed, once again, and closed his eyes while the small floating droid scanned his wrist, shoulder and head simultaneously.

"Handy little guy you got there," he commented when the droid was done.

"It serves its purpose well. It seems that your left wrist isn't broken, just...crushed?"

"I was propelled into a solid wall of rock."

"Then this data is correct. Your left wrist has been crushed together at points. Your right shoulder has a healed impact fracture on your humeral head, and a healed tear of your anterior labrum, plus scarring on your rotator cuff. I'll fix the rotator cuff and help the scar tissue release to give you back range of motion. As for your head, no concussion, just a good run in with a wall, I assume?"

Vincent grinned. "More or less. So I can just lie here while you fix all of this, right?"

"That is correct. I will start with your wrist."

A single, curved metal piece came out of the table this time and hovered above his wrist before a similar, but smaller, flash and almost unbearable feeling of pain shot through the lower half of his forearm.

"And now your shoulder," the female voice said as the curved metal was retracting back into the table. Vincent felt a warmth beneath his shoulder and realized a light was shining underneath his whole right arm. He heard a humming sound, almost like an engine revving in the distance or a computer gearing up to do some heavy processing.

He swallowed. This was definitely going to hurt.

For a third time, the light flashed. An excruciating wave of fire shot through his shoulder, making him physically lift his body off of the table in an effort not to yell.

"I apologize for the fact that these procedures must be so painful, but you are now at 100. You're free to go."

The small floating droid disappeared into a slot in the wall and the computer shut itself down. Vincent shuffled over to where his shirt was sitting in a puddle of green fabric. He slid the soft material over his head and felt its cool touch on his warm skin. A shudder passed through him and he gripped the medical table in an effort to stay standing. A feeling of dread coiled in his gut, leaving him uneasy and on edge for a few seconds longer. Something was not right...he was missing something vitally important.

"So does that thing work?"

Vincent looked up to see Carth peering into the room from the hallway. "Yeah, it does actually. Hurts like hell though for about two seconds before you feel great."

"Good. I'm glad that you're better. I was afraid you might just keel over on me before we could get back to the ship," Carth admitted. "Oh, by the way, we're ready to leave Manaan any time you are. Because of whatever you did down at Hrakert Station, there's a huge discount on medical supplies for us. I stocked up, just in case."

The Jedi nodded and followed the Republic officer to the cockpit. Checking the navigational computer, Vincent confirmed what he already knew: Korriban was the last planet to search. A primarily Sith inhabited planet, with only one real settlement, Dreshdae. Vincent had no wish to visit the planet at all, but that really wasn't an option. They needed to find the last Star Map to uncover whatever it was that Malak and Revan had been searching for in the first place - whatever the "Star Forge" was...

And then there was the ever-present fact that Bastila couldn't accompany them on the surface of Korriban. It was too risky, even if they disguised her somehow, a fact that Vincent didn't like at all. He exhaled as he slid into the co-pilot's seat and initiated the launch sequence.

"Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm just a little apprehensive about Korriban, that's all. I don't like the idea of being surrounded by that many Sith in one place," Vincent replied.

"Who would?" The Republic officer glanced at his friend. "I know what else is bothering you," Carth added almost too quietly for the Jedi to hear.

Vincent's interest was piqued. "Oh really? And just what else is it that's vexing my poor little soul?"

Carth turned to look him straight in the eyes. "Bastila," he stated.

Vincent swallowed. Carth was paying more attention than he had originally thought. "Well, it's true that we haven't made up yet, but – "

"But that's not what I'm talking about," the older man interrupted. "I'm talking about Korriban. We can't take her with us, and you know it. We all know it. You're afraid to leave her alone."

The Jedi wasn't sure if he was supposed to get angry or not, but he chose to stay indifferent. "Yeah, so? If you're trying to trap into saying that I care about her, then fine. I care about her. A lot. More than I should, probably. Where are you going with this?"

Carth shrugged. "Nowhere I guess," he said as he flipped the switch that took the Ebon Hawk into hyperspace. "We'll be there in an hour. You should try to get some rest."

Vincent rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Yeah, I think you're right. Call me if something comes up." The Jedi slowly made his way to his room, passing through the main hold and the garage on his way there. Juhani was in her normal spot, Zaalbar in his, as well as Canderous who was tinkering on something or another. Vincent wasn't surprised to not see Bastila; she had stayed in her room as of late. He didn't even bother to switch the lights on when he entered his room, opting instead to simply rely on his senses to avoid anything that might be in his way, and maybe use a little bit of Force powers to make sure he didn't kill himself in his trek across the room. Being Force sensitive was handy sometimes.

Vincent was out almost as soon as his head hit the pillow, but not before that feeling of dread knotted his stomach again, reminding him that all was not well.

- - -

Carth sat in the cockpit, bathed in the blue glow that accompanied hyperspace travel, musing over recent events. They were on their way to the last planet that contained a Star Map, Vincent and Bastila were having a nice little hissy fit, and Carth had the distinct feeling that his male Jedi friend was hiding something again. He knew that Vincent wouldn't do anything to leave them in jeopardy, but this time it just seemed so much bigger. Whatever it was, Carth had noticed that it weighed very heavily on his friend's shoulders.

A single, flashing red light caught the pilot's attention and brought him out of his pensive mood. Checking his instruments, Carth cursed under his breath. A very large ship, a hyperspace interdiction cruiser if he guessed correctly, was disabling their hyperdrive engines. Carth punched the alarm with one hand and frantically tried to start the hyperdrive engines up again with the other. Within seconds, he heard the heavy thuds of Vincent's feet as he ran into the cockpit.

"What's wrong?" he asked breathlessly.

"Hyperdrive interdiction cruiser. They cut our hyperdrive. We're sitting ducks!" Carth yelled in frustration. "Dammit!"

Vincent glanced at the panels and dials in front of him and knew immediately what was wrong.

"It's got us in its tractor beam," he said quietly. "There's nothing we can do. Shut down the engines and main power and tell everyone to meet in the main hold."

"Where are you going to be?" Carth called after Vincent's retreating form.

"I need to think of a plan. I'll be in the main hold with the rest of you," he called back. Vincent entered the main hold just as Carth shut the main power off and silenced the engines. Quietly slipping into a darkened corner, Vincent settled in to wait while Carth gathered everyone. His mind was already in overdrive, calculating every possible angle, escape route, plan and strategy he could think of. He watched as Carth and the others all filed into the room and took their places around the holo-projector in the middle of the floor. The Jedi didn't move; he wanted to see what his companions would do.

"Vincent told me he'd be in here..." Carth said after a while, his voice betraying the smallest amount of doubt.

Bastila looked straight at the spot where Vincent was standing. "He's here," she said quietly.

"You cheated," he said deadpan. Not moving from his spot, he addressed the rest of his companions. "We're being towed in the tractor beam of a large Interdictor – class ship. When they board us, I don't want anyone to fight back."

"What the hell kind of strategy is that?" Canderous interrupted. "You're not turning into a coward on me, are you?"

The Jedi fixed the Mandalorian with an icy stare. "If you want to get killed and screw up the escape plan for the rest of us, by all means, be my guest."

Canderous muttered something that sounded like, "Never mind" and fell silent again.

"The first person they'll be looking for is Bastila, so she won't be part of the rescue," Vincent continued. "Carth and I won't be either, as they'll most likely take us three somewhere else and keep us under close supervision. That leaves our options at Mission, Jolee, Canderous, or Juhani. Zaalbar, I'm afraid that they might just shoot you on sight if you get violent, and I don't want to risk that. See if you can stay on the ship. HK, T3, I want the two of you to put yourselves in the engine room and shut down. With any luck, the Sith will ignore you."

Zaalbar nodded and T3 and HK both went off to obey Vincent's request. Carth spoke up next.

"So do you have a plan for the rescue?"

Vincent exhaled. "Yes and no. I have an idea, but I need to know what each one of you is capable of before I make my decision."

"We can all do something," Mission chimed. "I mean, we've all got different skills. It depends on what we need to do."

Vincent smiled inwardly. Mission was a natural leader when given the chance.

"I could probably break out of whatever cell they put me in, then use a stealth field generator to sneak past all of the guards and get you guys free," she continued.

"I could break out of my cell as well," Juhani said. "If I am able to use my lightsaber, that is. I could also use a stealth field generator to sneak past the guards if need be."

Jolee was next to offer his services. "I may not be as tech savvy as the rest of you kids, but I know a thing or two about getting out of holding cells. I can use the Force to persuade whatever idiot is guarding me to let me out. I'd pretty much wreak havoc on my way to free you three, but I'd get there. You don't have to worry about that."

Canderous frowned and furrowed his brows in thought. "I sure as hell can't sneak around like the two women can..." He paused, his face lighting up as he formulated a plan. "I can pretend that I was working on the swoop bike in the garage. I was trying to overhaul the engines, and they blew on me. I'll set off a plasma grenade to simulate the burns the engine explosion would've made. With my bio-implant, I'll be back to normal by the time they put me in the med bay and take off."

Vincent was silent for a few moments, contemplating the pros and cons of each option.

"Canderous, your plan is the most believable in terms of deception, but I don't want to put your life in jeopardy like that unless it's my last option," he said finally.

The Mandalorian mercenary nodded in understanding.

"I think..." He fell silent again. "I think that you're our best bet, Mission."

The young, blue-skinned Twi'lek looked both surprised and pleased at Vincent's decision.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked.

"Take whatever tools you need to pick your way out of your cell and hide them. Once the guard leaves, break free, get your stealth field generator, and find a computer mainframe that links up with the holding cell commands. Free the rest of the crew; get the hangar with the Ebon Hawk open, then find a way to get to whatever level the detention cells are. That's where we'll be.

"Whatever you do, don't try anything foolishly heroic," the Jedi finished, patting Mission on the shoulder. "I have faith in you. I wouldn't have let you come with us if I didn't, and I sure as hell wouldn't have put this responsibility on you if I wasn't sure you could pull it off. You'll be fine."

A crackle of static came over the intercom system and the crew of the Ebon Hawk fell silent.

"This is Admiral Saul Karath of the Leviathan, informing you that you are about to be visited by one of our boarding parties. We are only looking for three specific people. If you are not one of these three persons, you will be taken into custody and detained in our holding cells until further notice."

"Saul," Carth growled.

Vincent placed a hand on the older man's shoulder. "Keep your head. If the opportunity presents itself, take it, but don't do anything stupid. I need you alive."

The Republic solider gave the Jedi an unreadable look before nodding and relaxing. "I promise I won't let my personal feelings get in the way. But if I have the chance, I will kill Saul."

Pounding on one of the doors to the main hold interrupted their conversation, and a thick tension could be felt in the air. Everything was silent for a few seconds before:

"This is the commanding officer of the Sith boarding party. Open the door, or we will be obligated to enter by force!"

Vincent motioned for the others to stay behind him and walked up to the door panel, waiting for a few seconds before pressing the code to open the doors.

The Sith at the front of the group found himself staring at a green shirt, his eyes level with the chest of a much taller man. As he lifted his gaze, he transferred his eyes from a green shirt to equally green eyes that were filled with a coldness that unsettled him.

Vincent stepped away from the door and joined his friends. "You're looking for us," he said, indicating Carth and Bastila. Leave the rest of my crew alone."

"Right. Cuff 'em," the Sith ordered. Three of the soldiers rushed forward and grabbed each person's wrists, bringing them together and binding them with plasma restraints. The commanding officer gave the hand signal that Carth and Vincent knew to mean "move out", and were not surprised in the least when they were led away from the rest of their friends. Vincent glanced at his two companions; Carth looked frustrated but as if he had accepted his fate for the time being, and Bastila's face betrayed nothing other than boredom. He tried to take in his surroundings as they were shepherded through the Leviathan, but there were simply too many corridors and passages for his brain to remember. Besides, everything looked the same, and Vincent doubted that he would need to have a mental layout of the entire ship to successfully escape from it.

"Vincent?"

He blinked. Bastila was actually speaking to him. "Yeah?"

"What do you think they're going to do to us?"

He didn't respond immediately. "Do you want the truth, or what we all hope will happen?"

"The truth."

She heard his sigh in her head. "They'll torture us if we don't tell them what they want to know. Period."

Bastila could tell that he was done talking and decided not to press the issue. They had stopped walking and were standing in front of a single, large holding cell. The Sith soldiers shoved them from behind to keep them moving.

"Strip to your undergarments. You each have a designated locker. Place all of your belongings in it, including all weapons. This is your temporary holding cell until Admiral Karath wishes to see you," the head officer said, his voice taking on a malicious tone with the addition of his last sentence. The three captives did as they were told, undressing and placing all of their personal effects in their respective lockers before being herded roughly into the holding cell.

The Sith began to file out of the room, but not before Sith had one last thing to say.

"Oh, and don't try to break out. You wouldn't last fifty meters out of your cell."

Vincent gave him an innocent grin. "Wouldn't dream of it, my friend." Leaning back against the wall, he made a small noise as the cold metal came into contact with his skin. "I hope the others are alright."

"They'll be in better shape than we are once Karath gets done with us," Carth said darkly. "He's not known for being merciful."

"Let him take his best shot," Vincent said, though his response was not prideful. "He won't break me."

"Oh yeah? What about her?" Carth shot back. Vincent glanced at Bastila, who was looking up as well at Carth's comment.

"He can't kill her; Malak needs her."

"But he can torture her within an inch of her life. You won't feel guilty if it's your fault?"

"Of course I'd feel guilty. What kind of person do you think I am?" Vincent asked incredulously.

"But you won't tell Saul what he wants to know to stop her pain?" Carth inquired.

"And condemn the entire galaxy for decades to come? I..." Vincent faltered.

He was saved by the door opening with a hiss, and the three companions turned to watch a man in his late fifties, fitted with a dress uniform and a commanding air walk into the room.

"Bastard," the Jedi heard Carth mutter under his breath. Vincent knew then that it was none other than Saul Karath who had just graced the room with his presence.

"I had to come see for myself if it was true," Karath said as he approached the holding cell. "I still can't believe that we were fortunate enough to capture all three of you at once. Lord Malak will be most pleased to hear of this."

"Save the formalities Saul. What do you want with us?" Carth spat.

The Admiral laughed. "It is not I that wants you, my old friend. It's Malak. He wants your friend here for her Battle Meditation. You two," he glanced at Vincent at this, "are merely thorns in his side. He will dispose of you when he gets here."

"Malak is coming here?" Bastila asked, hiding her apprehension well.

"Why, yes. This is his ship, after all. And he does so wish to meet you three in person. Until he gets here, however, I have been instructed to interrogate you. Guards!"

Three Sith soldiers appeared from around the corner.

"You know where to take them."

"Sir!" they all replied in unison, deactivating the force field and leading the trio for a short walk to a cavernous, dimly lit room lined with smaller, single-sentient holding cells.

"This can be entirely painless, you know. All you have to do is tell me the truth," Karath said as the two Jedi and the Republic soldier were locked into their cages. Vincent failed to suppress a contemptuous snort, and Karath's gaze turned wrathful as it shifted to him. "Maybe you'd like to be the first to reconsider my offer?" The Admiral addressed one of the Sith soldiers. "Level three."

The soldier pressed a few buttons, and Vincent stared defiantly at Karath. "Go ahead. Won't do you any good."

Saul smiled at the headstrong young Jedi. "We'll see about that." He nodded, and the Sith pressed another button, turning to watch the prisoners. Vincent grunted as the electricity hit him without warning, pounding through his body and making his nerves feel like they were being dipped in molten hot lava. He gripped his head in an effort to relieve the massive headache that was roaring through his brain and dropped to his knees when the pain didn't subside.

"Is that too much for you?" Karath taunted.

"Are...you kidding?" Vincent managed to force out. "This...is better than sex..."

The Admiral laughed aloud at Vincent's comment. "Up the level to five," he ordered the soldier who was controlling the electricity. The Sith nodded and dragged his finger along the dial on the computer screen, increasing the intensity to level five. Vincent refused to scream; instead, he resorted to snarling through gritted teeth. His emerald eyes never left Saul's slate-grey ones, an unspoken challenge to increase the torture.

"Stop!" Karath barked angrily. "This isn't getting anywhere. Perhaps torturing you won't work...it's a little different when it's someone you care about, isn't it?"

Vincent's eyes narrowed. "You're a sick bastard, you know that?"

Admiral Karath grinned. "I do what I can." He turned to his subordinate. "Switch the flow to the middle cage. Set it back to level two. Don't want to overdo it." Saul faced Vincent once again. "Now, this is a simple game. I ask you a question, and if you tell me what I want to know, she doesn't get hurt. If you lie to me or don't answer at all, Bastila will be feeling what you just experienced. Understand?"

"You can take your questions and shove 'em up your ass, Karath," the Jedi spat, getting to his feet slowly.

"It's a shame you feel like that because I'm going to ask you anyway. We'll start with a simple one. Where is the Jedi Enclave?"

"How stupid do you think I am? Everyone knows where the Jedi Enclave is, especially you Sith," Vincent replied. Bastila's scream knifed through him as the torture began.

Karath motioned for the short session to stop. "Of course I know where the Jedi Enclave is – oh excuse me, was. Lord Malak bombed it into rubble about a week ago. But I'm wasting my time giving you the latest obituaries. You've visited a lot of worlds within the past few months. What kind of mission has the Jedi council sent you on?"

Vincent glared sullenly at Karath and stayed silent, squeezing his eyes shut when he heard Bastila cry out for the second time.

"You know what?" the Admiral mused aloud, "I have a better plan. Stop," he ordered the Sith. "Perhaps you won't break, but I have the distinct feeling that Bastila isn't as strong as you are. Let's test my theory, shall we?"

Karath walked over to a large footlocker and rummaged through it for a moment before his hand emerged, clutching a deadly-looking Force whip. "Oh, we'll be doing this the old – fashioned way, in case you haven't noticed."

The force field around Vincent's cage flickered and disappeared. He was seized roughly by two bulky soldiers and held while something that resembled a very large doorway with two circular restraints for someone's wrists rose up from a hidden panel in the floor. The Jedi's captors dragged him to this contraption and pulled the restraints down, securing them around his wrists. One of the Sith punched a button, and the cables that connected to the manacles drew themselves taught, pulling Vincent's arms up and out; he was now, in effect, hanging from his wrists, as the pads of his feet were barely touching the ground.

"Vincent..." Bastila's voice sounded scared and uncertain.

He raised his head and met her gaze with his own, looking deep into her eyes. "Don't tell him anything," he responded.

"Tell me dear; just what is this mission the Jedi have sent you on?" Vincent heard Karath ask from behind him.

"He didn't give an answer and neither will I," Bastila responded calmly, managing to look indifferent.

"Hm, too bad," Saul muttered. Vincent heard the whip scrape across the floor steeled himself for the impact that was to follow. He grunted as the metal slapped his bare back, stinging unmercifully. Karath obviously hadn't taken off the small buffer of energy that surrounded the whip and allowed it to be a less than lethal weapon.

"Do you know what the Star Forge is?"

Bastila hesitated for a moment too long. The whip cracked again, leaving another angry red mark on Vincent's unprotected skin. Karath moved to stand beside his Jedi prisoner. "Do you know where it is?"

Bastila took a chance. "Yes," she replied.

Karath's eyes narrowed and he paused. "That was a very good lie."

This time, Vincent was able to see the blow before it landed. Karath raised his right arm high and brought it down in an arc to the left, making the metal lash connect squarely with his stomach and wrap around his body. The Sith Admiral deactivated the energy buffer and yanked the loop of metal back, tearing a line of flesh from his prisoner's waist. Vincent's breath came out in a hiss as he felt his skin ripping away, the whip biting into exposed muscle tissue.

"Carth, how about you?" Karath crooned. "How did you get caught up in all of this?"

"Go to hell, Saul!" the pilot barked through clenched teeth. Saul shrugged and brought the whip down on Vincent again, landing a third strike on his back. The energy buffer was back on, a fact that Vincent admitted he was grateful for. Karath suddenly flicked his wrist, coiling the metal around the Jedi's throat and pulling it taught.

"Tell me," he said, getting centimeters from Vincent's ear and speaking softly, "do you love her?"

"Why...do you care?" the prisoner managed. Karath jerked on the whip hard, causing Vincent to choke and gasp for breath.

"Answer the question," Karath whispered fiercely.

Vincent ground his teeth and pulled away from the Admiral's suffocating hold as much as he could. "Yes," he rasped angrily.

He felt a sharp pain at the back of his neck and then...

Darkness.

- - -

(3 hours later)

Bastila was absently messing with a loose piece of dark hair that had fallen from one of her pigtails, staring with a vacant expression at the cold metal wall in front of her. She glanced almost resignedly at the bruised and battered body of the only other person in the cell with her, a man who had been beaten badly. Though she knew this man – no, she reminded herself, she thought she knew him – he seemed so far from her at this moment. He hadn't moved for hours, and showed no signs of doing so anytime soon. She didn't blame him.

Her exterior, seemingly jaded and indifferent, belied the turmoil that was raging within. Bastila was angry. Angry that Saul Karath had tortured her friends, angry that Malak was coming to the very place that they all were, and most of all, she was angry that the Jedi Council, a council that she had trusted implicitly above all other influences and voices, had let this happen.

She was troubled at the condition her cell-mate was in. He had received no medical attention, and she feared that his condition was worsening.

But there was something else that was gnawing at her.

A burden that she was not used carrying. A burden of guilt.

She felt responsible for what had happened to the man lying on the floor. She knew Karath had used her as leverage, asking her questions and beating him when she didn't answer. Never before had she been accountable for the physical harm to another person in this magnitude – enough harm to cause death. Though she worried that he was dead, she knew he wasn't. She would've felt it if he had passed on and become one with the Force. No, he was still very much alive, just in a deep and unremitting coma.

Bastila wondered what it would be like if he was dead, to no longer be bonded to him, no longer share that deep emotional connection to which she had grow so accustomed. The thought terrified her, and in that moment she realized a deep and profound truth that she had been foolishly denying until then.

She loved him.

"I've been such an idiot," she murmured. "He's been there the whole time, patiently waiting for me, and I pushed him away." Bastila gazed regretfully at his prone figure, noting the fiery red lashes that marred his back and the deep gash that ran around his hips. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

He groaned and shifted, beginning to pull himself out of the black veil of unconsciousness. She fell silent and contented herself with watching as he gradually regained his senses.

"Where am I?" he asked, his voice harsh and grating, barely recognizable. He still had not rolled over, nor had he pushed himself up.

"Back in another holding cell," she responded listlessly.

His arms came up from his sides and he placed his palms flat on the metal grating of the floor. Pushing up, he raised himself to a semi-kneeling position at an agonizingly slow pace.

"Oh my God," she heard him breathe out as the pain set in.

"Don't try to move too quickly. They kept torturing you, even after you passed out."

"No shit," he rasped hoarsely. He turned over to sit on his backside, his face now visible to her. Deep, dark purplish-black bruises formed a wide ring around his neck, contrasting harshly with his now ghostly pallor. His arm brushed against his open wound and his breath came out in a tight hiss as a sting lanced through his abdomen. "Are you alright?"

Her eyes flicked to his face briefly when he asked this. "Yes," was her short reply. Bastila saw him wince as he attempted to move closer to her, and for a moment she was tempted to be the one to move and ease his suffering, but for some unknown reason, she stayed put.

"Carth?"

"Saul took him somewhere else. I don't know where."

"Oh." He kept his eyes on her for a long time but said nothing. Finally, "Are you sure you're alright? You look...different."

"I've had a while to think, Vincent."

"About what?"

"Lots of things."

A thick, uncomfortable silence fell between them for a long while, neither Jedi willing to breach it with words. 'Vincent' didn't know what to say and it was obvious to him that Bastila didn't want to talk, yet he still felt like he needed to force her to. She was at the event horizon of an emotional black hole, and if he didn't do something, he was scared he might lose her to the abyss.

"I'm here if you want to talk," 'Vincent' said, "but I think you know that already."

Bastila gave him a sad smile. "I know. You're always there."

There was something crushingly remorseful in her words that he found disconcerting.

"Then why don't you let me help?"

The melancholy in her smile was now reflected in her eyes. "Some things can't be fixed so easily."

"Don't do this again," he warned, frustration beginning to show on his face.

"I'm not pushing you away Vincent. You can't help me this time." She stopped. "Have you ever met someone and thought you knew them, only to find out they weren't who you thought they were?"

'Vincent' was silent. What did she mean by asking that? "I've never hidden anything from you. You know who I am."

"Do I?" Bastila asked quietly. 'Vincent' was perturbed by her question and the straightforward innocence it held. Picking himself up off of the floor, he crawled slowly over to where she was, placing a hand on the side of her face and gently forcing her to look at him.

"Bas..." he said almost inaudibly.

Her eyes swam with unshed tears as she looked into face, seeing the worry and compassion he had for her, even in the horrible condition he was in. Squeezing them shut in an attempt not to cry, Bastila gently pulled away from his hand, his mere touch reminding her of what she had done. 'Vincent' made a small noise of confused frustration and cupped her face, forcing her to face him again.

"Bastila..." he said again, equally as soothingly as before, and she felt him rub the pads of his thumbs along the corners of her eyes, wiping away the tears that were threatening to roll down her cheeks. She opened her eyes reluctantly, and found that his face was inches from hers. She could tell that he was confused and hurt by her cold demeanor, but that he was trying not to show it. Bringing a hand up to his neck, she traced one of his bruises with her fingertips, letting her hand come to a stop at the nape of his neck, just below where he had been choked. A corner of her mouth twitched upward briefly in a smile; she had felt his pulse quicken when she touched him.

"Thank God that Force whip had a buffer most of the time," she whispered, moving her fingers to draw along one of the many red lashes that covered his body, this one in particular along his side and stomach.

"Better me than you," he replied with conviction. Bastila glanced up at him again, a strong feeling of deep affection constricting her throat and making it impossible for her to answer him. 'Vincent' locked his eyes with hers, and she saw a flicker of indecision in his for a moment. Before she could ask what was wrong, he leaned forward and Bastila felt his lips brush tenderly against her own before –

"Guys? You in here?"

'Vincent' pulled back like he had been shot, his eyes closed, jaw clenched, and an altogether irate expression on his face. Any response he had was halted by Carth's sudden appearance from around the corner.

"Mission got me out," he explained as he worked on opening their cell. The purple force field dissipated into nothingness as Carth entered the proper code and freed them. "C'mon, our stuff's this way. The Sith raided our whole ship, and every single weapon and piece of armor we had is now sitting in a bunch of plasteel cylinders just waiting for us to come and get it."

When they reached their belongings, 'Vincent' made it his first objective to obtain any medical supplies that he could. Sliding open the plasteel cylinder, he felt immense relief upon seeing a large number of medical packs and life support packs ready for use. Snatching up a red life support pack, he popped it open and began to administer treatment to himself, concentrating solely on the large, open gash around his waist.

"Hey," he heard Carth say and he looked up. The Republic officer was holding up Calo Nord's battle armor and a durasteel armor mesh underlay. "Want me to put it in?"

'Vincent' nodded and continued to self-medicate. Looking around he noticed that Bastila was fully dressed and equipped, and Carth was dressed in his normal garb, but newly outfitted with much deadlier blasters than before. Coming back over from the small workbench that occupied a single corner of the large room, Carth handed the improved armor to his Jedi friend who slid it on effortlessly, despite his many injuries. The young Jedi found his lightsaber, clipped it to his belt, and continued to search for another. When he came across the one that he was looking for, he hooked it to the other side of his belt, filled the rest of the empty weapon slots with various grenades, and placed a mixed variety of med packs and life support packs in the small pouch on the strap.

"Mission said something about an elevator we can use. We should find it," Carth suggested. 'Vincent' nodded and began to lead the group down the corridor that led away from the detention block.

"Wait a sec, Mission used stealth to get to us, Vincent. What about –"

A Sith heavy trooper had rounded the corner, but before he had time to even raise his weapon a fraction of an inch, 'Vincent's' violet blade was protruding through his skull.

"What about what?" he asked as the heavy trooper slumped to the ground.

"Never mind," Carth muttered. "I thought you were still hurt," he observed. 'Vincent' had moved awfully fast for just having been electrocuted and flogged.

The Jedi made a disgruntled noise. "You of all people should know about ignoring pain when you're fighting," he growled, his voice still rough. The trio continued on, encountering only one other patrol on their way to the elevator, but seeing numerous dead bodies already littering the hallways.

"Elevator." He pointed to the lift and the three of them entered the circular apparatus.

"Where to? The Command Deck?" Carth asked, reading the levels that the device serviced. 'Vincent' nodded and leaned wearily against the nearest wall, letting his head loll back. Carth felt for his friend; he had received the worst of the electrocutions, and was the only one who had been physically beaten. The doors opened slowly to reveal a group of Sith heavy troopers and grenadiers.

"Hey! Those are the prisoners!" a female voice exclaimed from inside one of the trooper's metal armor suits as they all raised their weapons to fire. 'Vincent' quickly raised his left hand and let loose with a blast of Force lightning, watching with a cold impassiveness as the Sith's metal armor acted as a conductor for the electricity. It jumped from soldier to soldier, and two in the front dropped to the floor, smoking and lifeless corpses. Carth landed a few well–placed shots on one of the temporarily defenseless grenadiers, recognizing that they would pose the most problem.

"Close the doors," 'Vincent' barked, unclipping a plasma grenade from his belt and arming it. Carth punched a button and the massive doors began to slide shut. Just as they were about to meet, 'Vincent' rolled the grenade through the small opening and backed up.

"Grenade! Fall ba –"

Bang! Boom! BOOM!

The sound of the plasma grenade going off, followed by the subsequent explosion of all the grenadier's handheld missiles rocked the floor beneath the trio's feet.

"That," Carth commented, "was the most dangerous thing you have done yet."

"No, it doesn't top the tarentatek."

"The what?"

"I got impaled by a tarentatek on Kashyyyk. That was the most dangerous thing I've done," 'Vincent' explained distractedly as they headed for the first set of doors on this new level. They slid open and five more Sith heavy troopers came charging out, blaster rifles armed and ready. The Jedi felt the sting of blaster fire sizzle past his ear and a second later, heard it neatly deflected by a lightsaber.

"Snap out of it!" he heard Bastila yell as she charged past him. Shaking his head roughly, he ignited both of his lightsabers and twirled them, getting a feel for double wielding before throwing himself into the fray. Using his left weapon, a crimson blade, he scored a blaster rifle in half, screwing his wrist around and shearing the heavy trooper's arms off at the elbow. 'Vincent's' attention was already focused on the next enemy as he impaled the Sith through the chest; he blocked a diagonal slash from a vibroblade with his right blade, his violet one, and shoved forward, forcing the trooper's arms up above his head. He brought his red lightsaber around in an arc parallel to the ground, cleaving the enemy in half with a transversal cut. As 'Vincent' turned he saw Carth, locked in a deadly grapple with another Sith, free one hand, bring the muzzle of his blaster up, press it beneath the Sith's chin, and pull the trigger three times. The Republic soldier shoved the body down with a hint of disdain and glanced at 'Vincent'. The Jedi knew that Carth's distrustful look was directed at the weapon he was holding in his left hand. Bastila was standing, two bodies flanking her on the ground, one with its entrails spilling out onto the floor and the other with a deep gash running from shoulder to opposite hip. 'Vincent' raised an eyebrow at her, but she simply deactivated her yellow, double-bladed lightsaber and clipped it back to her belt, brushing past him to enter the room behind.

There was apparently nothing of great interest in the room, as she reentered the hallway a few minutes later with an annoyed expression on her face.

"Didn't find anything?" 'Vincent' called from the body he was inspecting.

"Nothing," she replied. "Just information we already know."

"Hmm. I don't think we know this," he said, holding up a data pad. "It says that to get to the Bridge, we need - you've got to be kidding me - space suits?" The male Jedi stood up. "I guess we have to go outside the ship to get to the Bridge. Damn. It says we can find the suits in the armory." He sighed and tossed the data pad to the ground, not giving it a second glance. "Let's find the armory then."

They continued through room adjacent to the one the Sith had just come pouring out of and entered another hallway, taking a left at the first doors they encountered. When Carth pressed the button to open the doors, they remained frustratingly shut.

"I don't think I can hack this," Carth said dubiously, shrugging apologetically.

"I'll get it open," 'Vincent' interjected. Once again igniting his violet blade, he plunged it into the center of the door, twisting it slowly and watching as the metal burned away. The doors flew open after a few seconds, the locking mechanism that held them together completely melted away by 'Vincent's' lightsaber.

Carth shook his head at his friend. "Or that'll work."

This managed to elicit a small smile from the Jedi as he entered the room and looked around.

"Hey, the space suits are over here," he called, making his way to the corner they were nestled in. "Well crap..."

"What now?" Bastila asked wearily.

"We can't run around the whole ship carrying these things. We should find the exit to the bridge first, then come back and get the suits."

Carth and Bastila agreed, and they exited the room to continue their exploration of the Command Deck. Taking a right in the hallway as if to go back the way they came, they passed the room they had already been in and took another right at the next junction of hallways. There were two sets of doors on the left, one on the right.

'Vincent' abruptly came to a halt and gripped both of his lightsabers tightly. "Shit," he muttered. "Dark Jedi. Three of them, in that room," he continued, pointing at the far doors. Carth tried to speak, but 'Vincent' held up a hand, silencing him. "Lemme think."

Without speaking, he turned to the right and entered that room, going to the computer panel that it contained as soon as he saw it was there. After a few seconds of button-punching, he returned to the hallway.

"Okay, these doors right here," he pointed to the ones directly across from them, "they open to an adjacent room. Those over there open straight into where the Dark Jedi are. Bastila, I'm going to need you on this. Take these."

He handed her a frag grenade and an adhesive grenade.

"Go in those doors, and I'll go to the main ones. When I say, you need to throw those grenades at the Dark Jedi. Once you get in the smaller room, you'll see that there's a partitioning wall that'll block you from view for a few meters. Use that for cover until you have to throw the grenades, and stay behind that wall after you throw them. Go." 'Vincent' turned to Carth. "You're coming with me. You can shoot a grenade out of the air, right?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I'm going to toss a thermal detonator in the air. I need you to shoot it when it gets above the Dark Jedi. Make it quick though, because I'm going to be charging in there pretty fast," 'Vincent' explained. The two men took their places on either side of the door.

"You ready?"

"Waiting for you," she replied.

'Vincent' nodded, and Carth moved to open the doors. The Jedi waited until he was just about to press the button, then screamed "Now!" through the bond. Bastila tossed the grenades, and the frag went off with a satisfying Boom! while the adhesive grenade managed to snare one of the Dark Jedi and slow the other two down. 'Vincent' tossed the thermal detonator into the air and watched it sail through the air in an almost eerily slow manner. He turned his head just in time to see Carth let off a shot, and to feel the heat of the explosion ripple through the air and wash over him.

He charged into the room with a yell, both lightsabers twirling, and his out of his peripheral vision, he caught sight of Bastila doing the same. He blocked an overhead slash and tried to back away, nearly losing his footing on the blood that was coating the floor. Glancing down, he realized that the thermal detonator had shredded one of the Dark Jedi's skulls, splattering blood everywhere. Blocking another attack with both of his lightsabers, he lunged forward, twisting his crimson blade to the left, shoving the Dark Jedi's lightsaber out of the way, and thrusting his violet one into the left shoulder of his enemy. Sliding his lightsaber down the shaft of the Sith's, he forced it down until it was nearly at his attacker's hand. Flicking his wrist back to the right, he brought his blade back up, slashing through the right arm and shoulder of his enemy.

Bastila had a slightly easier time. She had attacked the only other Dark Jedi in the room, the Dark Jedi who happened to still be stuck to the floor by her adhesive grenade. Though he was immobilized, he had still managed to block most of her first attacks, attesting to the skill that he possessed. Bastila then used her double-bladed lightsaber to her advantage. With one end, she made to hammer his right shoulder. He blocked it, as she knew he would; she pushed the free end down and forward, cutting deeply into the Dark Jedi's legs and causing the strength with which he was blocking her attack to weaken exponentially. Bastila applied force on the upper end of her weapon, and forced the Dark Jedi's own lightsaber to slice through his chest.

Carth was still standing in the doorway, one blaster drawn, and looking somewhat dazed.

"Smart move," was all he said to his male friend.

"Yeah, thanks," 'Vincent' replied. "That exit leads to the bridge. We should go get the space suits now."

The trio headed back to the armory, obtained the suits, and proceeded through the airlock once they had gotten into the equipment. 'Vincent' was awestruck by the sight that greeted his eyes as he stepped out into the cold vacuum of space. Millions of stars were burning brightly against their velvety black backdrop; an enormous nebula, filled with swirling pinks, purples and blues seemed to become a cavernous maw as the light bent within the gasses to create an optical illusion of immeasurable depth.

"Is that not the most beautiful thing you've ever seen?" Bastila asked from beside him. He turned to look at her, barely able to make out her face through the visors that protected their eyes from any harmful light that a star or planet would emit. He stared at her for a long while before responding, "Hmm. Not quite."

The trio continued around the walkway until they came to another airlock, passing through it and discarding their space suits. They entered the next room and were greeted with five Sith troopers, all very shocked at their sudden appearance. Bastila put two of them in stasis, 'Vincent' sent two of them flying into the wall with a large whirlwind of Force, and Carth shot down the remaining Sith before he had a chance to draw his weapon. 'Vincent' cut down the two Sith that were locked in stasis while Bastila assaulted the two enemies who were picking themselves up off of the ground. They never made it to their feet.

"C'mon. The bridge is just up ahead. We should be able to open the hangar bay doors from there," 'Vincent' said, leading his friends down the long corridor to the bridge. He immediately noticed the fact that they were quite outnumbered as the doors to the bridge slid open.

"Ah, so you made it," Saul Karath drawled from the front of the room, turning to face the trio as they entered. His voice hardened. "Kill them."

'Vincent' launched two thermal detonators at the Dark Jedi and Sith troopers that were nearest Saul, watching with a grim satisfaction as the explosion took out one Dark Jedi and two Sith troopers. Hurling himself at the last Dark Jedi, he felt a rush of adrenaline flood through his system. This was going to be a good fight.

The Dark Jedi parried 'Vincent's' first attack, a high blow with his violet lightsaber, and used the other end of his double-bladed crimson blade to catch 'Vincent's' other lightsaber before he could use it to attack. The screech of their weapons locked together filled the air and added to the noise and chaos of battle raging around them. Shoving the Dark Jedi back and spinning away, 'Vincent' dropped into a defensive stance, holding his right blade just above shoulder height and his left blade in front of him. With a growl, his enemy lunged at him, showing his mastery of the double-bladed weapon by forcing 'Vincent' to retreat backwards as he hit him with a flurry of fast, deadly strikes.

The young Jedi deactivated his violet lightsaber and clipped it back to his belt swiftly, bringing his free right hand to grip the hilt of his crimson blade tightly. Though he was comfortable with double-wielding his weapons, he preferred to fight with only one. The two combatants were circling each other now, touching blades every now and then before launching into a full on attack. The Dark Jedi was good, but it was becoming increasingly obvious that 'Vincent' had the upper hand. 'Vincent' knew this as well, and began to bide his time, waiting for his enemy to make a slip in technique. His patience was soon rewarded as the Dark Jedi lunged for him again, striking out viciously with his lightsaber. 'Vincent' blocked the attack, shoving his assailant's blade into the ground; he flipped over the Dark Jedi, twisting in mid-air and bringing his lightsaber down to cut the man in two. He managed to bring the back end of his weapon up just in time to stop 'Vincent' from halving him, but he was still off balance and at the young Jedi's mercy. 'Vincent' screwed his wrists around, shoving the Dark Jedi's weapon out of the way and severing it in half with a deft movement of his hands. He slashed at the Dark Jedi's thighs, bringing him to his knees, and thrust his weapon through the man's chest.

'Vincent' turned to look at Saul, placing a foot on the Dark Jedi's back and slowly pushing him off of his crimson lightsaber, baring his teeth in a predatory manner as the body hit the floor with a dull thud. 'Vincent's' snarl turned to a feral grin as he saw the fear in Saul's eyes. Before he could reach his new target, however, an errantly thrown grenade landed mere feet from where the Admiral was standing, exploding and sending Karath into the air to land ten feet from where he once was. Angrily, 'Vincent' turned to see whose fault this was; his head snapped around just as Bastila cut down the last enemy, a Sith trooper who was already badly injured and had been presumed dead during the hectic battle. 'Vincent' checked to see that none of his companions were seriously hurt, and was surprised to hear Saul's voice.

"Carth," he rasped, his voice barely audible. Carth's head snapped around, and he picked his way through the debris that littered the bridge, coming to a stop and crouching over Karath's prone form. Saul pulled him down and whispered something to him. This action caught both 'Vincent' and Bastila's attention, and they began to make their way to where Carth was. The Republic officer suddenly pulled away from Karath as if he had been burnt and looked furious. He stood up, staring at the man lying beneath him for a few seconds before pulling out his blaster and aiming at his old mentor. His fiery gaze settled on 'Vincent' for a moment, his eyes showing hatred and disgust, before switching to Bastila.

"It's true, isn't it?" he asked, his voice dangerously low.

Bastila looked at 'Vincent' as well before returning her attention to Carth, giving him a look that clearly stated he was not to continue. "Yes, it is true. The Council thought it the best course of action."

"Could somebody please tell me what the hell is going on?" 'Vincent' interrupted. "I have the distinct feeling that this has to do with me."

"We can discuss this later, I promise. Right now, we need to get off this ship before Malak gets here," Bastila said, trying to pacify the two men. Carth glanced down at Karath one more time, his finger pressing on the trigger of his blaster slightly.

"Killing him won't make it better," 'Vincent' said quietly. Carth locked eyes with the Jedi and defiantly pulled the trigger, causing Saul's body to twitch one last time before going limp. 'Vincent' felt Bastila pulling his arm roughly, and he turned to her, his face clearly showing his frustration.

"We need to go. Now."

"Alright. I need to open the hangar doors," he replied, walking up to the bridge console and began to work on opening the hangar. "Well for the love of...how many of the bastards are there?" he exclaimed as the hallway camera showed three more Sith troopers about to enter the bridge. "Three troopers about to enter!"

Bastila sprinted for the door and stopped just short of it, igniting her yellow lightsaber and waiting. The door slid open, and all the troopers – and 'Vincent' – saw was a blur of yellow before the Sith's bodies hit the ground.

"Nice one," he called as he finally opened the hangar doors. "They're open. Let's go."

They made it halfway into the maze of corridors and hallways before being ambushed by another group of Dark Jedi; this time, there were only two of them. Frustrated at the delays that kept hindering them, like invisible hands grabbing them and holding them back, 'Vincent' took the situation into his own hands. Running in a seemingly wild manner at the Jedi, 'Vincent' did a twisting flip, landing on his feet and immediately transferring his momentum smoothly into a back flip. Beginning his descent backwards, he planted his hands on the floor and used his abdominal muscles to pull his feet into his body, giving him the appearance of crouching while upside down. Using all of the momentum he had built up before that point, 'Vincent' shoved back with his arms and legs, his feet impacting squarely with one of the Dark Jedi's chests, sending him into the wall. Landing deftly on his feet, 'Vincent' grasped his right fist in his left hand and threw his arm up and back in a vicious strike behind him, slamming his elbow into the other Dark Jedi's face and breaking his nose, sending his ethmoid into his brain and killing him instantly. His body hit the ground just as his companion's was rising from the floor. 'Vincent' landed a spinning kick in his enemy's face as hard as he could, snapping his head back and to the side, breaking his neck in the process.

"Go! There's more of them!" he barked as he glanced down the other hallway. His friends began to run in the direction of the elevator, and he quickly followed. He squeezed through the doors just as they were about to shut, hitting the back wall and slumping down, the pain his body was feeling finally catching up to him. He couldn't repress a groan as he tried to breathe, closing his eyes and savoring the few moments of peace. He felt the elevator slow to a halt, and he opened his eyes to find that Bastila was standing in front of him, her hand outstretched to help him. Taking her small but strong hand in his own, he thanked her for the aid with a silent nod. Continuing with their brisk pace, the trio skidded to halt upon encountering yet another group of Sith, a Dark Jedi Master and his two Jedi companions. At this point, 'Vincent' was close to snapping. He was in agony, he wanted to get off this damn ship, and the enemies seemed to be in no short supply.

"Get out of my way," he growled.

The Master smiled maliciously. "I think you're sadly mistaken if you beli –"

'Vincent's' right hand was outstretched as if he were reaching for something, and in essence, he was. Concentrating on the Force, he felt the way if flowed through everything within himself and through those around him. Focusing on his enemies' currents, he simply reached out and took hold of one of them. The effect? The Dark Jedi Master was cut off in mid-reply, unable to respond because of the immense pressure that suddenly gripped his throat.

The two Dark Jedi tried to use their own Force powers against 'Vincent', but to no avail. He had anticipated this, and had erected a barrier that was impervious to all but the strongest attacks. Allowing part of his concentration to switch to the two Dark Jedi, he sent them flying into the wall with a large push of Force, never relinquishing his hold on the Master.

Bastila had witnessed his eyes narrow, a cold, hard killer's eyes replacing his warm, comforting green ones. He made to close his fist and kill the man, but he faltered, blinking, and Bastila saw that his eyes were no longer a mask of emotional withdrawal. They glazed over for a brief moment and he pressed his fingertips against his temple, dropping the Dark Jedi Master to the ground. He looked confused, as if he had been acting outside of himself, and Bastila noticed that he staggered slightly as he took a step back. Grasping his wrist firmly, she pulled him through the open door and into the control room, not pausing as they passed through that as well. The trio's progress ground to halt another door slid open to reveal the one person that they were desperately trying to avoid.

"Darth Malak!" Bastila growled.

"Down you go!" Carth barked, raising both blasters level with the Dark Lord. He only got off a few shots, all being deflected easily, before a wave of Force energy knocked him flat on his back. The Dark Lord's attention didn't remain off of them for long, however.

"I hope you weren't thinking of leaving so soon Bastila. I've spent far too much energy hunting you down to let you get away now."

'Vincent' automatically placed himself between Bastila and the Dark Lord. Carth groaned next to them, uninjured but stunned, and slowly returned to his feet.

Malak continued: "Besides, I had to see for myself if it was true. Even now, I can hardly believe my eyes. Tell me," he hissed in his vicious mechanical voice, his eyes now directed at 'Vincent', "why did the Jedi spare you? Is it vengeance you seek at this reunion?"

"Reunion?" he asked, eyes riddled with confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Even through the metal jaw, 'Vincent' could see his vile grin.

"What?" he asked in astonishment, followed by a torturous laugh. "You mean you don't know? Ha-ha-ha!"

The young Jedi twitched, his anger rising.

"All this time," he continued to taunt, "and you still haven't figured it out?" He laughed again. "I wonder how long you would have stayed blind to the truth. Surely some of what you once were must have surfaced by now."

'Vincent's' brows furrowed and he took a small step backward.

"Even the combined might of the Council couldn't keep your true identity buried forever, could it?"

Clenching his eyes shut, 'Vincent' struggled within himself as memories flashed through his mind.

"The Jedi don't believe in killing their prisoners," her delicate voice said. "No one deserves execution, no matter what their crimes . . ."

"The Council would not normally accept an adult for training . . ." the Master said gently, "but this is a special case."

"They say the Force can do terrible things to a mind: it can wipe away your memories and destroy your very identity!" Carth stated.

"Tatooine . . . Kashyyyk . . . Manaan . . . Korriban . . ." she mused, reading off each designated world. "Revan visited each of these worlds to learn of the hidden location of the Star Forge . . ."

"The lure of the Dark side," Master Vrook explained, "is difficult to resist. I fear that this quest to find the Star Forge could lead you down an all too familiar path."

"What greater weapon is there than to turn an enemy to your cause? To use their own knowledge against them?" Bastila spoke.

He saw Darth Revan on the bridge of his ship...an explosion ripping through the bridge...Revan in a pool of blood on the floor...Bastila kneeling over the Dark Lord's nearly lifeless form. The scene switched to someone else's view to show Revan standing on the summit of an ancient temple. The Sith Lord removed his mask, revealing a man in his early twenties, with dark hair, a neatly trimmed horseshoe moustache that ran all the way down the sides of his mouth, as well as a small goatee in the middle of his chin, electrifying, pale green eyes, and a thin scar running from the outside corner of his right eye.

'Vincent's' eyes snapped open, his gaze full of fury and agony. He turned slowly to look at the woman on his right.

"You lied to me!"

Bastila flinched as if she had been slapped. "The Council deemed in necessary to hide your identity from you. I wanted to tell you!"

'Vincent's' head was pounding mercilessly. "How could...I trusted you!" he all but screamed. The pain in her face was telling him to stop, but he wasn't listening. "You and the whole goddamn Jedi Council lied to me! You brought me back just to use me as a means to your own end!" His voice lowered as he spoke, mostly to himself. "I should've seen this...the Order never lets somebody my age become a Jedi..." 'Vincent' turned back to Bastila. "And I thought you were different...I honestly believed you were better than that."

"It doesn't seem the Jedi have done a good job in "reforming" you, Revan."

The Jedi turned to the man who had spoken.

"And you," 'Vincent' said, addressing Malak in a dangerous voice, "you betrayed me, you son of a bitch!"

"Don't be so shocked. It was you who taught me the way of the Sith, you who swore by the code of 'only the strongest will survive.' I saw my opportunity to kill you and claim the title of Dark Lord, all in one brilliant stroke! I miscalculated, however. The Jedi saved you, brainwashed you, and here you stand: a Jedi. You're pathetic if you think you can defeat me," Malak sneered, igniting his blood-red lightsaber and freezing 'Vincent's' companions in place. Twirling his lightsaber, the Dark Lord dropped into a defensive stance. "I didn't kill you once. I won't make the same mistake this time."

'Vincent' copied Malak, adopting his trademark defensive posture: his body turned so that his left side faced the enemy, right leg dropped back for balance, lightsaber gripped with both hands, held level with his shoulder and parallel to the floor, and his right arm pulled back a 90 degreeangle to point the tip of his blade at Malak.

"Familiar?" 'Vincent' taunted.

"You always were too confident in your own abilities, Revan," Malak growled back, the two combatants beginning to circle each other.

"If I remember correctly, you were too stupid to realize you didn't have any," the Jedi retorted.

Malak swung his lightsaber, a strike that 'Vincent' blocked with ease, countering with an attack of his own.

"Your skill with the lightsaber was unsurpassed during your reign as Dark Lord. Let's see if you remember how to use that weapon you're holding."

'Vincent' took a few seconds to size Malak up and weigh his options. The Dark Lord was taller by at least a good three inches, but 'Vincent' could already tell from his movements that Malak was also slower than he was. Being taller meant he would have a longer reach, both an advantage and a disadvantage. The advantage was that 'Vincent' could crowd him while not feeling restricted himself, but the disadvantage was that he couldn't distance himself from Malak if the situation called for it. Not in the tight quarters in which they were fighting.

With a yell, 'Vincent' attacked his opponent, slashing high and meeting stiff resistance. Violet clashed with crimson, both combatants pushing against each other, neither gaining ground. 'Vincent' let his grip loosen somewhat on his lightsaber, giving Malak the impression that he was weakening. The Dark Lord took full advantage of this and pushed forward with a great deal of strength – exactly what 'Vincent' wanted. 'Vincent' let Malak push their lightsabers toward his left shoulder, waiting until his own violet blade was inches from searing into his armor to let go of his lightsaber with his left hand, spin to the right, and slam his elbow into Malak's temple. The blow sent him staggering backward into the wall, a small river of blood running from where he had been struck. Malak's pupils were dilated, and 'Vincent' knew that another grin would be plastered on his face if it were not for the metal that covered the lower half of his face.

"Good," he said, as if applauding a student, "Very good."

'Vincent' bared his teeth in his own feral grin. "Taking notes yet?"

Malak gave a short bark of laughter, his eyes narrowing to the point where his yellow irises were no longer visible. 'Vincent' was sure that his eyes looked much the same way, pupils dilated and eyes narrowed. The two of them were in the excitement of battle, and both of them relished the adrenaline pumping through their blood.

Malak charged this time, striking with more ferocity and speed than 'Vincent' had expected. He deflected the Dark Lord's attacks skillfully, while trying not to take too many steps backward and get himself stuck with his back against the wall.

"What form are you using?" Malak grunted as he blocked on of 'Vincent's' strikes.

"Ataru. You?"

"Juyo. Works better against lightsabers."

"I know," 'Vincent' growled back, stopping another slash from Malak and shoving his lightsaber away. "I taught you that one."

He had no idea how he knew that, but he just did. He knew it in the same way that he knew how Malak would fight: unexplainable, but the knowledge was there. When Malak had told him he was Revan, it was as if a whole new part of him had been unlocked. Memories and things he knew before the Jedi had brainwashed him were coming back to him as he fought Malak, mostly of lightsaber techniques and battle strategies. Abruptly, 'Vincent' felt the heat of the Dark Lord's lightsaber near his neck, and he brought his weapon up to parry.

"You're not paying attention!" Malak snapped. "That's not like you, Revan."

Growling, 'Vincent' shoved Malak's lightsaber down, jumping up and thrusting out with both of his legs, and kicking him with all of his strength squarely in the chest. 'Vincent' landed hard on his back, and he heard Malak crash into the wall. Picking himself up, he was furious to see the Dark Lord open one of the many doors that surrounded them and retreat through it. Rushing to the door, his anger increased as he found that it was locked.

"Coward!" he screamed as the door to his left opened and he ran through it. Finding his way through a short maze of corridors and locked entrances, he came across the Dark Lord for a second time. Without so much as a pause, he used the Force to propel himself directly at Malak, who brought his lightsaber up to block 'Vincent's' overhead strike. Rage coursing through every inch of his body, the Jedi smashed Malak's lightsaber out of the way, landing barely two feet from his enemy.

"Don't run away from me you gutless bastard!" he shouted, slashing at Malak and kicking him in the kneecap, sending him to the ground. The Sith Lord retaliated by hurling a wave of Force energy into his former master and slamming him against the wall. Malak held him there, increasing the pressure and watching as 'Vincent' was crushed against the metal. Suddenly, he stopped struggling, and Malak felt an excruciating flood of agony rip through his skull. 'Vincent' dropped to the ground roughly, feeling something give way in his knee. He got up slowly, favoring his leg as little as possible; he didn't need his enemy to know that he was hurt. That last ditch effort to stop Malak from crushing him to death had drained him, and he didn't want to risk healing himself only to need that strength at a later point.

Leaning against the door behind him, 'Vincent' waited for the Dark Lord to get up from his knees. Suddenly, the west door opened and Bastila and Carth ran in. Her eyes locked with 'Vincent's' for a moment, and he saw the pain behind her blue-grey orbs.

"Go!" she ordered, igniting her double-bladed lightsaber and turning to face Malak.

"C'mon," Carth grunted as he hauled 'Vincent' up and dragged him through the exit he had just been leaning against.

"No!" the Jedi yelled, struggling furiously against Carth's grip. "NO! What are you doing? We can't leave her!"

The door slid shut and locked with a finality that scared 'Vincent'. Carth had let him go, and he flung himself against the metal, igniting his lightsaber and thrusting it through the huge door.

"She's gone," Carth said quietly. "That's a blast door. You'll never get through." He sighed, and 'Vincent' could detect the hurt in his voice when he continued: "We need to get back to the ship. We have to get off with the others."

'Vincent' slammed his fist against the blast door in frustration. Carth was right, but there was no way he was just going to let Malak have Bastila like this. As the Jedi stood, he shut himself off from his emotions. The pain and betrayal he was feeling was making decisiveness difficult, and he needed to keep his head right now. Tightening his jaw, he gave a small nod to Carth, and the two of them followed the corridor around the room that Bastila and Malak had sealed themselves in to the ground floor of the hangar bay.

The ship was taking off as soon as the exit ramp had closed, their destination pre-determined, with only one planet left to visit.

They were going to Korriban.