Chapter 58
Even as the blast door closed behind her, Bastila heard Revan's dire protests against her lover running after Malak, fighting against Carth, and the stalwart man's equal protests that Revan must flee with him.
Revan's despair and desperation rippled through Bastila's soul as if it were her own. Her chasing after Malak to free the others was the only logical option. He wanted her; in having her, the others were free from the purist and constant harassment of Sith agents. More importantly they were free to find the last of the star maps and the star forge.
'RUN Revan! You will find me again.' Bastila sent into her beloved wife's mind. 'RUN!' Behind her was safety, security, love, ahead of her lay only pain and a very possible death—but there was no other possible way. In the decadence of war the Dark Side grows ever stronger threatening to devour all it touches Pushing aside Revan's desperation going as far as to burry them Bastila chased after Malak despite knowing full well she was rushing into a trap.
The constant thuum of danger was all around her, making it more than difficult – impossible to isolate one layer of threat from another. And above it all was Malak.
"If I had known all I had to do to flush you out Bastila was to threaten my former amnesiac Master I would have done it months ago. It would have saved us both a lot of trouble." Malak's disembodied voice boasted along the corridors of the Leviathan.
"If you are going to do something than do it already!" Bastila retorted her voice artic-cold with hate.
"HAHAHA. As you wish Bastila. Commander Talon oblige our guest."
The command was not lost on the Jedi, she looked down the corridor she had spirited past and saw no one waiting in ambush. but she could feel them, five…no six humans. Where were they? It was only a fraction of a heartbeat before Bastila realized the enemy was above her.
Six silverbacks with maglock boots had positioned themselves in firing positions on the ceiling of the ship.
"Karabast! Revan was right. No one looks up."
Six stun rays all lined up on a single target. Bastila's body shuddered, her nervous system spiking hyper-sensitive, crumpled under the barrage falling hard against the deck. A moment later six troopers disengaged the maglocks on their boots and dropped to the same deck with the practiced easy of battle hardened troopers.
Malak approached the prone body of his pray with a bit of smugness in each step he took. He looked down at Bastila with utter contempt. He drew back his foot and kicked the Jedi in the temple just hard enough to bruise but not to do any lasting damage to her skull other than a minor concussion. There would be a nasty bruise that would last for days. It serve as a lasting reminder of her defiance of the Sith – of him.
He bent to one knee took Bastila's chin in his hand and not gently. "Such a child to cause me so much grief." He ripped his hand away and stood. "Commander, take her to the holding cells."
"Ah sir that's a negative." Talon answered unable to keep the trepidation out of his voice.
"You dare defy me!" Malak's snarled in the moment he used the force to slam the Silverback against the bulkhead and held him there.
"No." the Commander coughed out struggling against the pressure gripping his throat.
"Then explain yourself!"
"Ma..ma-my Lord…the enemies de-de-stroyed the computers that ca—ca control the doors to the cell-blocks. We have no way to seal the detention block."
Malak snuffed out his hold on the trooper allowing him to fall to the deck alongside Bastila's still body.
"I see. Very well. Secure the prisoner in the isolation chamber in the medbay. I assume that is still functioning?"
"Yes my Lord."
"Then why are you still standing here?"
"Yes my Lord!" Talon saluted before bending down to take his Lord's captive into custody.
KOTOR~ KOTOR~ KOTOR~ KOTOR~ KOTOR~ KOTOR
Pain and visions stained Bastila's eye-sockets like soot. Her mind churned, memories overlapping swirling into a cacophony of night terrors assaulting Bastila's unconscious mind.
As time went Skye was increasingly cavalier, merry, moody, fey, and unpredictable. She camouflaged her depressions with masquerades of incordiality, courtesy and good will towards others. But even as she jested, Revan would look over to Bastila with melancholy eyes as if the two were meshed in intimate communication. Bastila was certain the Nagai had un-riddled her, had seen through her reasons for coming along. That Revan could forecast each of Bastila's possible moods and inclinations, that she was only acting the innocent to lull Bastlia into stupid tranquility and miscalculation.
It is possible that all things end before they begin. Everything the Jedi Council had carefully orchestrated was now unraveled and undone, emoted and endogen. All the weird ghosts assembled in memory born of lies and it only matters if you think it's true. What does it mean? What does it mean to regret when you have no choice?
I wanted for you to tell me the truth. I gave you so many opportunities to tell me, hinting to you that I knew who I was. I wanted you to tell me the truth. I know why you resent being bonded to me." Revan's words haunted the desert air.
When Bastila opened her mouth to speak the former Dark Lord held up her hand to stall her.
"You said it yourself, don't deny it now."
"Skye…"
'Don't you mean Revan?' the older woman nearly snapped.
'Revan…' Bastila looked pained. 'I never wanted to lie to you! I never agreed with what the Masters were doing. But I had to follow their orders."
"I want to hear it from you, Bastila. Why? I was the Dark Lord why not leave me to die?"
"The Jedi don't believe in executions. What I told you about me being on the strike team to take you in, and Malak firing on your ship was all true. But you were so badly injured. We thought you were dead." Bastila closed her eyes. "Your mind was destroyed. But I used the Force to preserve that flicker of life I felt in your body. I brought you to the Jedi Council. They were the ones who healed your damaged mind."
"But they didn't restore it Bas, the merely reprogrammed it with a new identity, one loyal to them. To the Republic. Their Slave!"
"NO! You were never a slave." Bastila cried out, her body snapping up out of the vision. Pain lanced in Bastila's skul, automatically she reached to the side of her head and winced at the touch. Though she could not see it, she felt the bruise at her right side, she felt the throbbing.
"Kriffing bastard," Bastila growled in her pain "he kicked me in the head!" She groaned as the throbbing intensified. Ug she not doubt had a concussion. Bastard.
Instinct and muscle memory took over, as Bastila tried to regain her bearings. She wasn't in the brig. This was not a detention block. Then where…?
Blurry eyes registered consoles medi-beds. Sickbay then? Why in sickbay? Not for her concussion surely. Malak wouldn't have kicked her in the head if he wanted her undamaged. Bastard.
Even with her head swarming from pain Bastila tugged on the threads of the Force trying to find a balance, a center. Breaking free from her confinement would not be easy. Without outside help perhaps impossible, but she had to try. She simply could not allow Malak his victory to be so easily won.
She looked around. There was a door directly in front of her or rather the in front of the isolation chamber. "Well of course they put me in quarantine. It's the only viable containment facility left. Okay Bastila think…focus." she winced at the pain lancing through her skull, pushing past it, she stretched out with the Force tying to sense what lay beyond the door of quarantine. She sensed one…two no there were four lifeforms outside the door.
Without her lightsaber and her head swimming the odds were not in the Jedi's favor but then were they ever? All she had to do was to get one of whoever was out there in with her.
Still tugging at the strings within the Force Bastila sought out the weakest of the minds beyond the door.
"You must check on the prisoner."
Nothing,
"You must check on the prisoner."
No…there…yes! A mind pliable and weak. Bastila pressed again.
"You must check on the prisoner."
The door opened to reveal a middle aged gray haired woman in a green surgical scrubs and a white lab coat. "I must check on the prisoner." her voice was monotone, indicative of one under mind control.
Bastila put the full brunt of her power into controlling the physician. "You must open the door to check on the prisoner's health."
"I must open the door to check on the prisoner's health." The doctor moved for the control panel that opened the decontamination chamber that separated the rest of the room from the quarantine chamber. As soon as she stepped over the threshold, Bastila struck.
Using the Force, Bastila grappled the chest of the physician, hoisted her up into the air, sailed her across the chamber only to slam the other woman into opposite bulkhead. There was a strange crunching sound of bones being shattered, and the strangled yelp of shock and grunt of pain before Bastila dropping her pray to the ground.
Stepping as frigidly to the other woman's still body as Malak had once had to her own prone body, Bastila dropped to one knee. Rather than take the chin of her unconscious enemy in her hand and gloat, Bastila merely snatched a key code pass card from the other woman's possession. Looking at the woman, Bastila entertained the idea of swiping her cloths as well but the disguise will not work against those who worked closely with the physician, including the guards. Besides she didn't have the time for a costume change.
She used the card to access the quarantine chamber's door and the decontamination antechamber into the room beyond. At very best Bastila had maybe thirty seconds before a nurse or intern came to inquire after the physician and following them a guard and all of that after they reported to the bridge of the irregularity of procedure.
Ten seconds to center the self. The throbbing intensified. Most certainly a concussion. But a Jedi could and needed to rise above pain. It was only pain. Move past it, above it. Five seconds. The door opened to a very surprised intern.
The man looked like a chunk of granite that had been dumped by an avalanche, all square and solidity and well leathered face of a man born of an arid world, the kind of man that would stand firm until time flowed around him.
"What the hell?" He managed to blurt out before Bastila used a Force push to slam his thick body into one of the guards. The Silverback had no time to react before the intern collided with him sending both toppling to the deck. His blaster rifle toppled out of his grip and clattered to the deck. Just a hair's breadth out of reach.
Bastila used a Force jump to land on top of the intern just as he was pushing himself up off the guard. The intern coughed out a haggard breath, the Silverback beneath him gave out a strangled grunt feeling the weight of both people pin him to the deck. Bastila wasted no time in the flash moment the surprise attack granted her, she summoned the fallen blaster rifle and shot. She made sure to hit both men point blank in the head, killing them instantly.
Rolling back on her left shoulder Bastila brought her rifle up to bare on the rest of the room only to find she was the only sentient still alive n the sickbay. The other guard and nurse must have fled. Highly irregular for a guard to leave his post, not so much for the nurse however, still Bastila paid neither missing persons further thought. She could not afford to.
Taking a precious stolen moment to puff out a sigh of relief, Bastila took stock of her situation. Looking down at the Silverback, the Jedi Sentinel smiled. Now that was a disguise she could use. She might just escape from this yet. Moving swiftly as she was able Bastila dragged the dead intern off the Silverback and began to strip the man of his armor including his body glove. A handful of seconds later she was fully kitted out in the armour. Of course it'd be hard to explain why there was a blaster hole in the helm but that was a bridge to cross once she escaped the ship's medical facility. If nothing else the next Silverback she crossed paths with she'd simply use Force persuasion on him to swap-out their helms, then make him vacate the area and act as if she had never crossed paths with him in the first place.
Running from sickbay would only risk drawing attention to herself. It took far more than courage to stop herself from spiriting to the nearest escape pod or the hanger deck, it took patience. It was a commodity and a virtue that the young Sentinel was very rapidly losing hold of.
*Well done Bastila.* a familiar voice echoed over the medical facility's intercom. *I'm impressed. Record time—your escape, or rather your attempt at escaping.*
"You'll find I'm full of surprises."
*You may well think so, but you'll find that I still have the upper hand.*
Bastila rushed towards the medical bay's door, used the swipe card only to have the door remain shut! The LED indicator light that was supposed to flash green indicating access granted instead flashed red of access denied.
She tried again and again.
*They say it's a sign of madness to keep attempting something that is proven to fail.*
Bastila snarled. She took her stolen blaster rifle and shot the door. The green laser bolt twanged off the door, It ricocheted widely towards the facing bulkhead to the door of the quarantine room and back towards Bastila. Only her Jedi training gave the Sentinel the preternatural ability to dodge the laser bolt that detonated almost on top of her.
"Magnetically sealed. Just great." She groaned at her own stupidity.
*Hahahha.* Malak's laugher echoed as a loudly in the sickbay as the laser bolt had. *You couldn't have hoped to think it was going to be that easy. Did you?*
Bastila felt the warning in the Force just as the floor began to swim in mist…no not mist—gas. The smell of it tinged through the mask Before the suit's protective programming took over and shut out the olfactory sensors. Dioxis gas… highly toxic.
The mist turned to a thick fog. Cloying the room.
*That suit's protective systems are not indefinite, young Bastila. Soon they will fail and when they do you will die.*
Warning lights flashed in the helm's HUD. Soon apparently was now. Bastila looked behind her, back towards the quarantine chamber.
*Yes. Bastila that is you're only salvation. The choice of life is yours.*
Kriffing karabast! Sprinting back to her confinement cell Bastila found that decontamination antechamber was already opened. Passing through the threshold was the very groggy, very disoriented physician who was nursing her own concussion.
Still with the helmet of the trooper's silver armor clocking the Jedi from sight, the physician didn't register that she was addressing her Lord's prisoner. Not until Bastila snatched the other woman's arm and yanked her back towards the cell.
"What the hell? You will unhand me, ST111-101."
"No time to explain. Get in the chamber. Now!" Bastila demanded still dragging the reluctant woman with her.
"I most certainly will not! Who are you?" The doctor tried to free her arm from the Jedi's grip but Bastila's hold was too strong. "Unhand me" the other woman's nose wrinkled, her lungs hitched as if suffering from an asthma attack. "Oh gods…is that…"
"Dioxis gas. Yes. Inside now."
There was no resistance this time. Bastila pushed the doctor further into the quarantine chamber, turned to insure the door sealed behind them. The light turned red.
"Damn it!"
"Here let me." This time it was the doctor that pushed past Bastila to activate the door.
"It won't work, Malak's sealed your commands out."
"Those command yes, but not emergency medical-overrides." deft fingers in surgery made for agile fingers in other emergencies. The doctor inverted her identicards and pushed her thumbs against her holo-ID as if breaking open blister pack containing pain meds. There was a very soft click sound not unlike the sound of bubble-wrap popping. She then slid the card through the reader once again, this time there was a green-flashing light and the door slid shut.
"Emergency-medical override accepted." the computer complied.
*Well done, of course in this emergency situation there is only enough oxygen in that tank for a single person to last the time needed to clear sickbay of the toxins. If two go in it cuts that time in half. How long can the body go without oxygen good doctor?* Malak asked.
"Three minutes." Came the physician's answer.
*And how long is the full purging procedure including scrubbing sickbay of contaminants?*
The doctor winced. She knew as well as Malak there was no way to shut down the emergencies protocols once they've been activated. "Seven. It takes seven."
*Four minutes too long. Especially for those suffering from a concussion. Tell me doctor what is the damage to the brain to a person if they fall into unconsciousness while suffering a concussion?*
"There is a very slim chance for hematoma during, and the chances of a lucid interval increases." The doctor turned to Bastila and tried to keep her voice down. "The lucid interval only occurs in a minority of cases. We'd suffocate before then but not before succumbing to hypoxia and that will cause hematoma and coma."
*Indeed you both will, unless of course there is only one. * Malak taunted over the comm-system. Apparently the good doctor's voice was not low enough. *You are wasting precious seconds, Bastila. You both can not survive the purge. And if you think the suits internal hazmat systems will aid you, you will find that ST111-101's suit has a very particular malfunction. The micro-life support system is non-functional.*
Despite the Dark Lord's revelation, The Jedi instinctually checked the helmet's HUD only to discover Malak was indeed telling the truth, ST111-101's suit had been damaged. Whither it had been a preemptive move prior to Bastila's incrassation in the isolation ward in anticipation of her escape or a result of her shooting the trooper it was difficult to discern without proper diagnostics. A procedure that would take time, time that was nether hers nor at this point relative, the only matter that was relative was relying on the suits internal life support system was no longer viable.
There were always other ways. Even with a concussion the Force gave Bastila the ability to go into deep meditation – a semi-hibernation state allowing the body to effectively shut down. Her breathing would slow as would her heartbeat buying both time and offering the very precious moments of air the isolation ward offered during the purge.
For all Malak's arrogance surrounding the trap Bastila had in her desperation to flee her capture accidentally sprung, had forgotten or so it would seem the most basic of abilities of a Force wielder.
The doctor accustomed to the dark Jedi that served her Lord Malak had not anticipated the open generosity and self-sacrifice she bore witness to in the other woman. One would of course assume that such open generosity would owe a dept returned, that self sacrifice repaid. Short of breath but conscious the doctor bolted from the isolation ward as soon as the door slid open.
Bastila still deep in meditation did not seemingly heed the moment when the doctor sprinted out of the quarantine chamber. "She's still in there!" The doctor pointed behind her yelping at the two black cowlled dark Jedi who entered sickbay. There was no remorse in her eyes even as Bastila now stepped out into the medbay proper.
Instead of advancing, the dark siders took position on either side of the threshold of the door that lead to the quarantine chamber. There was a pause before the doors of sickbay opened admitting Lord Malak. At once the doctor fell to her knees showing all deference to her master.
"My Lord?" The doctor seemed surprised at his presence. She gave a slight glance behind her to the ever proud Jedi Knight. Only then upon meeting the gray-eyes stare did the woman wince not in regret but rather embarrassment.
"Bastila, you are betrayed. Your willing sacrifice of your own health and safety to save to this one's miserable life is easily forsaken." Said Malak.
Bastila met the eyes of the doctor. The woman radiated fear. Not of the Sith Lord but of the Jedi she had so readily betrayed. In those grey eyes burned the frozen hatred of vengeance. It burned with the unsaid accusation 'I saved your life and this is how you repay me? I should destroy you for a life wasted.'
Bastila took a step forwards all the while her gaze never wavered from the physician. That step was the only one she took. It is such a quite thing to fall, but much more terrible is to admit it. Bastila focused on the self—denying both.
"Kill the good doctor." Malak ordered to the Sith Marauders behind him, not carrying which of the two carried out his orders.
"WHAT!" the doctor Screamed incredulously. "I am loyal!"
Bastila remained ever silent, even as she saw the red blade of the dark Jedi pierce the heart of the aging woman.
"Now you are dead." Malak said to the corpse even before it hit the deck. "Leave us." He commanded the Marauders. He didn't turn around to bare witness to his command, there was no need.
Through it all Bastila remained still, silent. Instead of reacting she drew into the self.
This act gained Malak's attention, his reaction was to scoff at the Jedi. "Jedi are trained to center the self, to push away the emotions, emotions cloud judgment, the self. We are taught this from time we are younglings, when we are still in swaddling cloths. Do you know why? Because weapons do not have emotions. Jedi are weapons, Bastila do not fool yourself in believing you are a protector. Oh you protect, but that is what a weapon is for."
"And the Sith aren't weapons?" Bastila shot back.
"Oh we are. The only difference is that we know it. We embrace it. Jedi say there is no emotion, there is peace, but even Revan knew truth of that nature abhors peace. Peace is a lie, there is only passion. The Jedi wish you to believe that there is no passion, that there is only serenity.
"But through your beloved Revan you know there is passion. You felt it, embraced it." Malak pushed mental-verbally. He took his hand and ripped Bastila's tunic from her torso, the cloth fell away in shreds. She wasn't completely exposed but her arms were laid bare, revealing the tattoo she had taken on Mannon.
"That is passion! And when you embraced the fullness of it did you not feel empowered? Your passion for Revan had given you strength. Strength enough to defend your lover and face me alone. Your strength is your power, and your power you will have your victory. You've already shown you desire to break your chains." He tapped the tattoo. "The chains of the Jedi, the chains of the Light Side?"
"I should instead embrace the chains of the Dark?" Only now did Bastila take steps towards her enemy.
"There are no chains"
"Hypocrite! There are chains, the Sith do not wish for their members to have connections or attachments either. Love has no place in the Dark Side."
"And marriage..." Malak hit the tattoo once more "has no place with the Jedi. Revan is right about the Force. It will free you. Don't believe me? Believe in the power of the Force. Nothing is stopping you from summoning its power. Your key is the Force. Let it set you free."
Malak struck the younger woman again, not the tattoo this time but with Force Lightening. As he had at the beginning. Her screams filled the room.
Malak didn't let up until the human was nearly passed out. He paused long enough for the pain to diminish but not dissipate entirely. Then he began again. Only when he felt her anger did he stop.
He recalled the Marauders that had been waiting just outside the door of the sickbay and summoned them. "Take her to my chambers. Lock her in place to the conversion table then leave. You will not speak to her or of her, is this understood?"
Both men instantly bowed low. "Yes My Lord." They said in unison.
KOTOR~ KOTOR~ KOTOR~ KOTOR~ KOTOR
This time when Bastila came to consciousness. the throbbing in her head only intensified which wasn't helped by the fact her entire body felt afire. The room was dimly lit as if only at one quarter illumination.
A second look gave Bastila a measure of where she was now. From the ambient sound she knew she was not in the Leviathan's sickbay. Was she on a ship at all? Stretching out her senses through the Force the young woman tried to feel the pulse of a hyperdrive or sublight engines. But she could not feel their pulse. Not a starship then. could it be? Was she now on the Star Forge?
Stretching out she felt a strange thudding, like a distant heartbeat of a beast slumbering. And deeper, stronger the frozen touch of the Dark Side. It was all around her, familiar as her own heartbeat.
Bastila raged within, raged against the binds that held her in place against what could only be described as an examination table. She was lashed by the legs: both-thighs and calves, her waist and torso and arms. Strain as she might Bastila could not break free of her bonds. Her frustration was let out in a great cry of exasperated wrath.
"Ah there it is. Anger. Rising. Filling you as a lover's touch. Under that is your fear. What you really fear is inside yourself, Bastila. You fear your own power. You fear your anger. The drive to do great or terrible things. Now you must journey inwards. You are ready, Bastila. Breath in your fears. Face them. To conquer fear, you must become fear. You must bask in the fear of other people. And people fear most what they cannot see.
"You have to become a terrible thought. A wraith. You have to become an idea! Feel terror cloud your senses. Feel its power to distort. To control. Know that this power can be yours. Embrace your worst fear, Bastila. Become one with the Darkness. Fill that need in you."
"Oh do shut up." Bastila growled through her pain and gritted teeth.
Malak turned away from her, staying silent for a blessed ten breaths before the tin-jawed Dark Lord spoke again. A new tactic.
"Did you know how long it was before Revan took up Meetra Surrik as a lover? Huummm? How long it was to forget this..." this time it was no mere light slap of the tattoo it was full on strike. "Three months. Just three months before she took that burnet human into her bed. Just three. Seems that that Revan's vows to you meant little to her. Her vows to the Order, her vows to you and in the very end her vows to the Republic were nothing. She saw the weakness and chose to expunge it, to build a new empire out of the ashes of the Sith. She saw the true power of the Dark Side and embraced it."
The lightening struck Bastila full on the chest. Fingers of electricity wrapped and warped a round her body. Coiling and uncoiling in its strangle hold. The screams wrenched from Bastila's throat.
"She has your passion, your affections but the power she once had is gone. It was gone the day you and the Council decided to trap her. I saw an opportunity to destroy all my enemies at once and claim what was rightfully mine!" Malak shouted over the torments of his captive. He paused in his relentless assault only to speak then he unleashed another unslought of Force Lightening. Only when Bastila was near passing out did he stop.
"Revan is weak. You know this. Once the Revanchist was feared and respected by her enemies and allies alike. Once looking upon Revan was to look upon the heart of the Force itself. Now she is dead as is the power she once wielded." Lightening rippled over Bastila yet she had no voice to scream out the anguish rippling throughout her body.
"Did you know she vowed love to Meetra? I often heard their cries of passion released. And it was often and regular. Meetra became her most trusted general. But it wasn't because of what they shared in the bed. You see Meetra was everything you weren't.
"Passionate, dedicated to the cause, the true cause of what it means to be a protector. She didn't hide away in some remote Enclave or the Temple on Corrisant. She fought day and night along side Revan.
"Meetra had your gift of Battle Meditation. She was a brilliant strategist. She strategized and manoeuvred troops almost as good as Revan did and in some cases- better. Always thinking outside the box not unlike Revan herself. She fully believed in the Revanchist." Malak laughed and sent yet another ripple of lightening over Bastila.
"Meetra was so very gifted, dedicated, passionate, and she shared a Force Bond with Revan just as you do now. I wager you didn't know that did you? It was said that anyone getting close to Meetra became Force Bonded to her. It was like an infection that spread like a disease. I was lucky, I was one of the uninfected."
Bastila panting from exhaustion and the constant pain was forced to listen to Malak droning on and on about Meetra and Revan. Loathing him for it, loathing Revan for this love of the past, Loathing a woman she never met. A woman now in exile. A woman called only 'The Exile.'
"But Revan. Well she and Meetra were close. Very close. Some said they already took the vows of matrimony. Of course that was never confirmed. It was all hearsay of course. But they were as good-as. Their passion was wild, unhinged. Revan trusted her little General more than even me—ME! Her apprentice. Her closest friend. No one was trusted more than Meetra." these words were bathed in the seething blood of hate and jealousy.
"Meetra was sent on the most dangerous missions, the most complicated. Deep in the shit as the Regulars called it. Meetra always delivered. Meetra went the distance, always would. Whatever Reven asked of her, however distasteful, Meetra might have personally thought of it if she saw strategic value in the action, she'd carry it forward. Can you say the same?" Once more Malak issued a pulse of lightening. Bastila's body rippled in electricity. Again Malak pulled back but only to speak.
"That Twi'lek youngling, the walking carpet, the has-been Mandy, the Orange Coat, how many of them would you sacrifice to complete your mission? All of them? One? Two? None of them? HOW MANY!"
This time when the lightening came, Malak did not let up until Bastila fell into unconsciousness.
Was it hours or days before she woke? Bastila didn't know. She only knew upon waking she was in a new place. A small cell two meters by two meters, it was more like some sort of shipping crate than a cell, the low ceiling again reaching only two meters in height was meant to convey an air of oppression. There was no sleeping mat and only a small bucket for waste. Try as she might Bastila could see no way out. Only the small slit at the bottom of the cell gave any illumination. It was here that a ration bar and a container of water was slid through. Desperately hunger and thirty Bastila devoured the ration bar that carried the taste of cardboard and the water was stale as if forced through rusty pipes and left standing for a week before being given to her.
It was only after eating the food that Bastila felt herself growing drowsy. Drugged then. So this was how it was going to be.
"How many?" It was the first words Bastila heard when she opened her eyes.
"To end you? All of them." The Jedi growled. "I'll die before I give you want you want!"
This time Bastila she took careful note to pay very close attention of her surroundings. Along the upper landing of Malak's personal chambers she saw several kolto tanks with men and woman floating inside. She could feel their connection to the Force even unconscious as they were.
What in blazes? Were these Jedi some macabre trophies? Toys to torture only to be put back when Malak had finished his games?
It seemed to Bastila that despite the prosthetic jaw that Malak was smirking. As if he were proud of the answer she gave him. "Meetra once sacrificed a whole squad to take Duxan, knowing they were going across territory filled with landmines because it had to be done in order to reach the objective. In the end she won but the cost had been high. Almost too high for the plucky young General. I wouldn't say that terrorism and position is malign, because I don't think any form of warfare is malign. I think it's all atrocious. But isn't it peculiar that one form of warfare regarded suddenly as being not on.
"You say the Sith are nothing but terrorists but then why are we terrorists? The Revanchist was a terrorist: hero but a terrorist. Is that not a good point? Because we all know one sentient's terrorists is another sentient's freedom fighter. In an era of a post Mandalorian War where one can question the political philosophy of our time it works. Revan and I saw horrors beyond imagining in the space beyond the Outer Rim. Revan knew if the stagnating Republic was to survive it must change. She brought the Sith back. Call the Sith a fascist state if you want. Claim we are brining a new holocaust to the Republic and those of independent governments; it is not a lie to say such. But it must be done if we are to survive the storm to come."
Lightening lashed out once more, slamming into Bastila's soul and body. Again and again. How many days and nights did she suffer under such a lash? The Jedi lost count. It seemed a month where no words were spoken only the lightening. Other days it was words, so many words and a blessed reprieve from the torture.
"The Sith are a resistance that must happen. Just as the followers of the Revanchist once stood as a resistance against the Mandalorians, the Sith now stand as a resistance against total annihilation and oppression. Corruption is abundant within the Republic you cannot say you have not seen it Bastila. Corruption within the Jedi Council itself. Were you not forced to lie to Revan, to weave story bent and twisted from Revan's own true past into a fiction that became Skye Ravensong?"
Another lash of lightening, Bastila screamed until no air was left in her lungs. She screamed until there was no will left in her body to resist and she fell back into the blessed depths on unconsciousness.
On waking—now she had no way of counting the days…the nights passing…one bled into another and into another. She go three days without water on the forth she was fiven a bottle of water. Food. Was different, a week went by then another. Pangs of hunger gnawed at her sides. She felt her body weakening; only the connection to the Force gave her any strength. Just as starvation threatened to take her into the Void she was feed. But only enough to sustain her.
On and on it went. Three days no water-the fourth water. Three weeks no food. The first day of the forth week she was fed. Back and forth from the tiny cell to Malak's chamber. By this time she was no longer drugged, her body weakened with habitual dehydration, starvation and sleep deprivation, there was very little physical fight in her. The guards had to physical support her weight now. She had become a gaunt gangrel creature, eyes sunken and dark, hollow cheeks and a caved in stomach.
The only thing now keeping her alive, keeping her warm was her hate. Hate for Revan for betraying their love and taking that shutta Meetra to her bed. Loathing for Revan for not rescuing her, loathing for Malak, loathing for the Jedi Council for forcing her to lie and play this ridiculous masquerade of Skye Ravensong.
That rage fueled her. This time when the guards came, Bastila was ready. The hate swam in her. Giving her power. The door opened. Talon was the first to feel her unquenched wrath. She slammed him against the blackhead hard enough to snap his neck. Yet when he dropped to the deck he was still breathing. Bastila grinned maliciously. She would finish the bastard latter.
The second guard shook off his moment of shock, raised his weapon but dropped it, it clattering carelessly to the deck. His hands went for his neck desperately trying to wrench the vice that was cutting off his air flow. Even as Bastila heard the neck bones snap she continued to crush the man's larynx. Only when she heard Talon rising behind her did she drop the Silverback.
Force lightening shot out of her fingertips lashing Talon as Malak had her so many times before. He fell to the deck screaming in agony. Smoke started to rise out of his silver shell, she was cooking him within. When the stink of human flesh wafted heavily above her, only then did Bastila let go of the lightening.
When she looked up to the sound of boots coming towards her, Malak was greeted with eyes of red circled by yellow. The Dark Side had begun its corruptions.
"The Jedi are no longer liberators, Bastila. The new order—the Sith became an idea and it's the people who take the idea on and make it a reality. The Sith is really a meditation on the government when the government pushes the people too far as the Republic has. We are a waring, a pretty ancient war about the function of government and its responsibility towards its citizens. Join us, Join me, Bastila. Join me and be free."
"What you did to me! You tortured me! You tortured me!" Bastila screamed, her rage still unspent.
"You wanted to live without fear, each day you refused to give in; I knew I could not end it!" the Dark Lord purred. "It had to be your choice!"
"You're sick! You're evil!"
"You call me evil? This tactic was born out of the mind of Darth Revan! It isn't ironic it was your lover's teachings that you gained back your power to break your chains? When I had you I knew my way of turning a Jedi would not work on you, but Darth Revan's would. You could have ended it Bastila. You could have given in, but you didn't. Why?"
"Leave me alone! I hate you!" the falling Jedi roared. Her face streaked in tears, they were hot against her frozen flesh.
Malak was pleased. "That's it! See, at first I thought it was hate too. Hate was all I knew. It built my world, imprisoned me, taught me how to eat, how to drink, how to breathe. I thought I'd die with all the hate in my veins. But then something happened to me just as it happened to you."
"Shut up! I don't want to hear your lies!" Bastila pushed past him going deeper into his chambers proper. Wait…his Chambers… but she was or had been in a holding cell! Looking back Bastila realized that her holding cell was indeed a shipping crate he had moved into anti chamber off his bedroom. All this time she had been shut away in what could have passed as his closet!
"We all make scarifies, Bastila, and in these courageous acts, legends are born. Reven and I wanted want freedom for all."
"You sacrificed too many to achieve it!" Bastila snapped back with what strength she had left. "Now you just want a galaxy of slaves!"
"Do you not yet understand? Sentients long for freedom of their chains. To them slavery is freedom!"
"You are no better than the Mandalorians you once fought! The ones you and Revan sought to destroy."
"You've not experienced nearly enough to judge me or the forces that drive me. That once drove Darth Revan."
"Come now, do not pretend that you are after anything other than your own infinite desires." Bastila managed in defiance.
Bastila could almost imagine Malak gnashing his nonexistent teeth together as he growled: "Where you there to hear the screams of thousands of children sliced apart by the vibroblades of Neocursaders?
Have you smelled the human flesh searing into the red-hot irons of the Basilisk-War Droids?" Rage filled Malak now. He stepped closer his voice snarling. "I consecrate these stars on behalf of the millions I watched suffer! And their worlds destroyed, their people slaughtered! And through it all, all of it the Jedi that did not follow the Revanchist do nothing!
"You Bastila did nothing! You heard the cries of the galaxy and just like the Jedi Council and DID nothing!" Malak was heaving in sighs of holy anguish, anguish that latched onto Bastila. "Your lover began this crusade to end all of this! How can you turn your back on her quest now! Your Masters, the ones forcing you to turn that once brilliant mind into a slothful slave will not be able to turn the tide of what is to come! The Revanchist is gone, forever. But not her crusade! If you mean to save this galaxy then the sacrifice must be made! Join me!"
Bastila openly weeping now hadn't even realized until Malak was gone that he had not unleashed his torments of lightening as he had so many times before. Three days without torment. Three days without speech. She was left alone in his private chambers. Her only company were the dead guards and comatose Jedi floating in those kolto tanks.
The reprieve did not last long. Exhausted beyond measure, Bastila woke from dreamless sleep when Malak intruded on what rest the Jedi could gather. Which wasn't much.
"Your own lover said that artist use lies to tell the truth. Yes, I created a lie. Just as the Jedi Council did, just as you did. But because you believed it, you found something true about yourself." Malak said as he stepped into the chamber.
Bastila frantically shook her head from side to side. "NO!"
"What was true in that cell is just as true now. What you felt in there had nothing to do with me."
Bastila ground her teeth. "I can't feel anything anymore!"
"Don't run from it, Bastila. You've been running all your life."
The woman's breaths came in great hyperventilating desperate gulps for air. She fell to her knees broken.
Malak moved to her, touching her shoulder, his voice now a low soothing whisper. "Listen to me Bastila. This may be the most important moment of your life. Commit to it."
Bastila continued to beg for breath. "The Jedi took everything from you. They took your father from you. They took your mother. They took your lover." Gasps of air turned to soul- shattered sobs. "They put you in a cell and took everything they could take except your life. Still you believe that was all there was, didn't you. Servitude. The only thing you had left was your life, but it wasn't. Was it?"
"Please." The sobs deepened.
"You found something else. In that cell, you found something that mattered more to you than life. Than service. In that cell you told me you'd die than give me what I wanted. You are calm. You were still. Try to feel now what you felt then."
The sobs softened, slowed then stopped. "Gods…I felt…"
"Yes?"
"I'm dizzy. I need air."
"Come there is a lift that will take us to the oxygen factory."
The Ancients that built the Star Forge had ingeniously created an organic air scrubber in the form of a great forest, with trees and plants from a vast number of worlds of their Empire. Plants from when Tatooine once was green. This great 'greenhouse' replenished the air constantly. every week the system was set to 'rain' allowing the growth to continue on a natural level, so much so that being within the oxygen factory one could have believed themselves ground side.
Here in the 'rain' Bastila walked barefooted, wounded and wreaked and woke. Free. She raised her arms into the air, this time her tears were of relief and freedom.
Baptized.
Sith.
"Your chains are broken Bastila. You are free. What was done to me, created me. It's a basic principle of the universe…that every action will create an equal and opposing reaction."
"Is that how you see it? Like an equation?" the woman's voice was soft, a whisper.
"What was done to me was monstrous. I was given a choice by Darth Revan. I chose to break my chains. I chose to embrace the true power of the Dark Side."
"And Revan created a monster." Bastila muttered, hating the truth of her own words.
Malak did not deny it. "Even a dead bee can sting. Some will be lulled, and some will be killed yet some will have all they wish fulfilled." Malak placed a gloved hand on his new appearance's shoulder. "Once Darth Revan spoke true and powerful words, her own reflection on the Codes of both Sith and Jedi:
'Flowing through all, there is Balance
There is no peace without passion to create
There is no passion without peace to guide
Knowledge stagnates without the strength to act
Power blinds without the serenity to see
There is no freedom in life
There is no purpose in death
The Force is all things and I am one with the Force'
"She fully believed while the truncheon may be used in lieu of conversation, words will always retain their power. Words offer the means to meaning and for those who will listen, the enunciation of truth. And the truth is there is something terribly wrong with the governments, isn't there? Cruelty and injustice, intolerance and oppression. And where once you had the freedom to object, to think and speak as you saw fit you now have censors and surveillance coercing your conformity and soliciting submission.
"How did this happen? Who's to blame? Well certainly there are those who are more responsible than others. And they will be held accountable. But again, truth be told if you're looking for the guilty you need only look into a mirror. I know why you did it. I know you were afraid. Who wouldn't be? War, terror, disease. There were a myriad of problems which conspired to corrupt your reason and rob you of your common sense. Fear got the best of them. And in their panic, they turned to Jedi Council when they rebuffed them, they were eager to accept the Revanchist. She promised order, she promised peace and all she demanded in return was your silent, obedient consent."
"She is no longer that woman," Bastila said coolly. "The Council have made her weak. She is no longer the Revanchist. She betrayed her own cause."
"Yes. It is a terrible thing to be a traitor to the self, if she cannot be freed from her chains by her own will, Bastila you must free her from them. You must face her."
"Where?" a pause. "My Master?"