Author's Note: I'm back! Hope you all had a great NY and January. Thanks for the reviews, the encouragement certainly kept me thinking about the story. I think I PM'd everyone but Riovann so a quick thanks for your review too :) And shout-out to kosiah for just generally being awesome.


Hyperspace: V – part one


Nisotsa Organa:

The muted murmurs of incoming comms filled the air with a background static. Even from the far side of the command deck, I could see a rainbow of warning lights blink from various consoles. Two well-scrubbed underlings raced back and forth across the shiny floor, their only apparent job to relay status updates from the differing fighter squadrons to the grizzled Admiral.

Not that it did much good, with Kylah standing in his shadow, countermanding half his orders with a vicious smirk on her pouting red lips.

"We are still not within striking range of the starport, Karath," Kylah commented. Her voice was mild and silky, and would have been out of earshot had the Force not augmented my senses. "I am starting to wonder if you are stalling."

"I obey Lord Malak's will," Admiral Saul Karath growled, not even looking at the younger women as he stalked behind a row of diagnostic holo-screens. "I will position the Leviathan for bombardment when I don't have a Dreadnought-class cruiser on my tail-"

"His orders are clear." Kylah's voice changed into a whip, lashing with an authority I both resented and wished to own myself. "Immediate destruction of the Wookiee village and associated starport, Karath. We cannot allow her to slip through-"

"We have closed in as far as possible without ceding a clear advantage to the Meridus," Karath snapped. "They already destroyed our secondary shields. We cannot deviate from our position any further; we must focus our arsenal on the Republic forces, first. Once victory is ours, then we can turn our guns on-"

An amused chuckle from behind me derailed my Force-focus; my hearing dimmed to within natural levels, and now all I could hear was once more the background hubbub of whispering techs interspersed with the electronic thrum of machinery. Tens of metres away from me, Kylah stood glaring hot malice at Saul Karath, who was now studying a holo-map of the surviving snubfighter squadrons as they encircled the Leviathan and Meridus both.

Technically, Admiral Saul Karath held command on the Leviathan, but Kylah and I were Lord Malak's envoys. Kylah believed her authority trumped Karath's. Malak… well, my Master would likely back whoever rode us to victory.

"I do pity Admiral Karath," a voice drawled. I turned to frown at my compatriot; he was lounging on a plush red sofa pushed up against the wall. It was completely out-of-place in the frakking command centre of the frakking Leviathan. I wouldn't have put it past Sharlan Nox to be the one who'd actually moved it here. Certainly, the last time I'd been stationed with Karath's crew, there was no vermillion eyesore taking up space.

"Hmm," I acknowledged, eyeing over Sharlan's dangling limbs in silent disapproval. He was an insouciant degenerate, who did nothing for the status of Malak's top Dark Jedi. But - he was still alive - where so many of us had perished. It was strange, for Sharlan's sheer laziness and passive apathy should have spiralled him into failure or defeat by now.

One of Sharlan's pets, a blank-faced Togruta, was kneeling quietly at his side.

Sharlan's pets creeped me out. Me. The Quiet Death. A general of the previous wars, and a Dark Jedi recruiter for Darth Malak himself. But there was something soulless about Sharlan's Force-sensitive toys, and the way their eyes never wavered from his pock-marked face.

"Doing the bidding of a strutting harlot is not what Karath signed up for, when he swore fealty to Revan and followed Talvon's directive." There was an obvious snicker in Sharlan's tone. He didn't feel sorry for Saul Karath; no, he enjoyed every drop of resentment and disgust that the Admiral tried so valiantly to conceal.

Sometimes, Sharlan's brevity still struck me as odd, even after knowing him for years. Sharlan had been a Revan loyalist, found by her personally just after Malachor, although I never found out the details of how or where. If Sharlan's personality had not been the very antithesis of a Mandalorian warrior, I may have suspected he had been a rare Force-sensitive Revan had picked up from the losing side.

But Sharlan did not speak of his past. And after Revan's assumed death, Sharlan and Yudan had been the two Dark Jedi I'd watched with a careful eye, as they bowed knee and swore their lives to Malak.

Yudan had done so with a cold, remote look on his face; Sharlan, an amused smirk.

But still, I had wondered just how true their vows were. And now Yudan – my old friend, my old comrade – must be dead, alongside that smug prick Bandon.

Malak's latest missive, burning cold with acidic venom, told us of Revan's escape from Bandon in the Shadowlands. How my Master had found out, I did not know, but he was certain of Bandon's demise. I could only assume Yudan, too, had faltered. If by some chance Yudan still lived, then he had to be hotfooting it into hiding – if he was simple enough to believe he could hide from our Master's wrath.

I hoped Yudan was dead. The vague grief I felt at the thought was preferable to the disgust his cowardice would otherwise bring.

Regardless of Yudan's fate – and surely he was dead, he must be – it meant one thing for certain: only three remained from the fabled Jedi Thirteen.

Revan, Malak, and I.

"You'll have to choose, you know that, right?" Sharlan said, running a long nail over his black lips. The Togruta's eyes stayed pinned on his finger, moving back and forth, back and forth. "Kylah will want to step up as Malak's first apprentice, his Shadow Hand. She's a bit of a joke, really, but you'll either have to publicly acknowledge her superiority, or throw a challenge. You never did like outward challenges, did you?"

I scowled into his sickly yellow eyes. "Shades of hypocrisy, coming from you, Sharlan Nox," I scoffed. "When was the last time you stood up to anyone of note?"

Sharlan laughed, a high-pitched trilling noise that echoed over the shiny command deck. A nearby console tech jerked his head around to stare at us in alarm, before quickly bowing back over his work. "I'm not ambitious, Nisotsa, I never have been. Plucking up hopefuls and delivering them to Korriban is enough for my appetite. But it's always grated for you, hasn't it? Such a step down from your glorious past."

"Enough," I growled. "Unless you want to make it more, because frankly, I'm in the mood for a spot of violence."

Sharlan, I could beat. His perpetual habit to bend beneath the will of others surely showcased his weakness. But it was difficult to gauge his strength in the Force. It seemed to undulate, to ebb before spiking at a level he never maintained for long.

Sharlan's physical appearance was also mysterious. He was human, I was almost certain of it… but there was something almost reptilian about his movement. And his face… it was strikingly pale with a closed slit on either cheek that reminded me somewhat of aquatic gills. He had nothing of the jagged scars of darkness that were more common around long-standing Dark Jedi. Of all people, I knew that the physiology of different sents could react in a myriad of ways to the Force, but I had never heard of Sharlan's facial deformities.

He was strange in other ways, too. Stars, I'd never seen the man eat, or go to the 'fresher or even change his frakking robes from that silver-and-rubescent ensemble he pranced about in. Maybe his wardrobe was filled with the same outfit times ten, and he got his kicks from screwing with people. It seemed like the sort of thing that would amuse the chivhole.

But in other ways, Sharlan was just like me. His eyes shone the same acidic yellow of the true side of the Force.

"Oh no, Nisotsa, I am quite content to label you my superior," he drawled, inclining his head to me.

"In that case, go fly a frakking snub and get out there," I snapped. "You could actually make a difference, rather than wearing out this ridiculous lounge suite."

We hadn't expected a Republic cruiser in Kashyyyk airspace. At first, Karath had assumed it was lying in wait for us, that somehow our communique had been intercepted, and an ambush for the mighty Leviathan was in play.

But no, the Meridus was here for an entirely different reason.

Revan. Just like us, the Republic was here for her. I would have been amused; smug, even, had I not heard the news of Revan's escape. Again. Frakking again.

Oh, Bandon's death was a joy to behold, but Yudan's… had that mind-wiped joke I'd once followed felt anything at Yudan's death? Yudan, who had been more loyal to her than frakking Malak himself? How had Revan managed to escape? I'd seen Bandon's taunting little selfie, with her collared and captured in the Shadowlands… how the frakk had she escaped a neural disruptor and defeated both Bandon and Yudan?

It was Revan. If anyone could achieve the impossible, it had always been Revan.

Yet, Kylah assured me that Revan remembered absolutely nothing - that she was just a brain-damaged experiment with the odd flash of power from her past… but I recalled that power. Even the odd flash was behemoth.

Not enough to defeat Malak, though. Not broken as she was.

And not enough to defeat Kylah, Sharlan and I, surely.

"I think I shall," Sharlan twittered, and I turned back to stare at him in surprise. His black lips were twisted in a smirk, and one long nail was now tracing down the left montral of the kneeling Togruta. "I have some cargo to deliver."

"Really," I said flatly. "I didn't expect you to acquiesce so easily, Sharlan." I could make the apathetic man bend to my will, but I'd actually expected Sharlan to stay on the Leviathan. With the rest of us.

"I aim to please, Nisotsa," Sharlan drawled.

My eyes narrowed. "You are running in case Revan escapes Kashyyyk, and we intercept her ship. You don't want to face a shell of our former Master."

Sharlan had never had much to do with Malak. He'd gone straight into recruitment, vowing to help Revan build a mighty empire of loyal Dark Adepts. I remembered his first assignment, we'd done that one together. Telos. There'd been quite a crop of sensitives we'd found in the aftermath of the Talvon's carnage, and surely, I'd thought, the five hopefuls I'd dumped on Korriban would be enough for Revan to send me elsewhere - somewhere more important, more strategic, more frakking note-worthy.

Sharlan had only brought two boys to the Academy, although I'd known he'd left Telos with four. Oh, I'd known for a long time that he liked to pick up his own personal pets while he was recruiting for the Sith, but I'd never worked out why they survived so very short a time.

"I hold no loyalty to Revan, or the body that once inhabited her," Sharlan said, his voice patently bored. "But I shouldn't think she'd pose much of a threat to you and Kylah. Since you appear to doubt my allegiance, let me leave my pet in your care, Nisotsa."

Sharlan stood, a fluid motion of limbs slowly straightening, and motioned the Togruta to follow suit. With a sensual purr, Sharlan dragged the Togruta closer and kissed him gently on the lips. "Obey Nisotsa in all, my pet. She shall be your last master."

The Togruta nodded, and turned to stare at me.

"What?" I snapped. "I don't need one of your cast-off toys, Sharlan!"

"Don't underestimate this one, Nisotsa. He will obey your commands to the very end, and his power is not inconsequential. Although…" Sharlan shot me a smirk, a thin-lipped indication of his twisted humour. "I don't believe there is much life left in him, so use him sparingly."

"Sharlan," I said in warning. "We may need you here. Be careful you are not disobeying our Lord."

A razor thin eyebrow lifted in apparent bemusement. I didn't buy it. "Lord Malak hasn't ordered me here, dear Nisotsa. But I came anyway, and gave you the gift of an ally to assist. I don't see how you can believe I am disloyal to our Lord." He bowed, mockingly, and began to walk away.

The Togruta's gaze was fixed on me, blank and soulless. "Sharlan!" I snapped. "Wait!"

He stopped, turning to glance back at me quizzically.

"This… this thing," I muttered, motioning at the silent Togruta. "What is his name?"

Sharlan shot me a puzzled look. "Pet," he said, before leaving the command deck.

xXx

Forn Dodonna:

"Positive ID on the Ruby's Claw, ma'am," a tech engineer said breathlessly. "Illuminating now."

A blue speck on the massive holo-map flared an iridescent shade, indicating itself as the freighter the technician identified. Its colour switched to green as our mapping OS marked it as a friendly. The Ruby's Claw was rising from the atmo of the forest planet below, canting to the left of a mass of red specks that formed some of the Sith squadrons.

The enemy's location between us and Kashyyyk was both a problem and an opportunity. It left the Ruby's Claw and Ebon Hawk vulnerable to Sith fire before we could reach them; but the flipside was that Karath's apparent desire to position for orbital bombardment had allowed us an opening to unleash our firepower.

The Dreadnought-class cruiser had taken some solid hits. Our scanners estimated its shields were a quarter down, and there was a hull breach in the Leviathan's rear - bad enough that Karath would have to take precautionary measures: isolate and seal the part of the cruiser that was no longer air-locked.

The damage wasn't enough, not yet. The Leviathan was a mighty beast, just like the Meridus.

"Search for the Ebon Hawk," I commanded, eyes roving amongst the translucent topography outlaid in front of me. Behind, in an arc of consoles surrounding the colossal map that dominated this side of the command deck, sat a dozen of the best comm techs and engineers.

"There." Commodore Tar'coya pointed a stubby finger at a blue speck that came into view, rear-side of the Ruby's Claw, and closer to the Sith forces. "That's it."

"Rallying, the Sith are." Vandar hobbled closer, raising his archaic stick to indicate the enemy squadron closest to the Ruby's Claw. They veered sharply, breaking away from the Leviathan to make a beeline directly for the presumed Ebon Hawk.

Tar'coya had been plenty annoyed I'd allowed Vandar on the command deck. I could understand that – Jedi made most military uneasy, even if I trusted Vandar not to use any of his mind tricks here. The Jedi were on shaky ground, and the first hint of interference would have me booting the lot of them out of any Republic intelligence or command.

That wasn't the only reason for Tar'coya's irritation. The passenger on the Ebon Hawk had us all on edge - and Tar'coya didn't even know it was Revan we were chasing, only that it was a Dark Jedi of some import.

But Vandar was an ally, for all of his secrets. He had a lot to answer for, though. The whole blasted Jedi Order did.

"Imosh, inform the Ruby's Claw of six incoming bogeys," I rapped out to the Ensign on my left. "Tell Captain Merrix to keep his latitude parallel to the planet, and send Tau Squadron after him. Get Captain Onasi on the comm for an update."

The Sith snubs would soon catch Jordo Merrix and Carth Onasi. The Ruby's Claw would be able to withstand a fair amount of damage, unlike the Ebon Hawk. We'd have to rely on Carth's superior flying and the manoeuvrability of his craft.

"Positive ID on the Ebon Hawk, ma'am," the tech from earlier said. "Illuminating now."

In the periphery of my hearing I could make out Ensign Imosh talking urgently to Jordo over a secure comm channel. The mark Tar'coya had pointed out flared briefly, but stayed the blue of the neutral. Carth was one of us, of course, but our system wouldn't recognize a modified Dynamic-class freighter with a forged signature as an ally unless we overrode it.

And, frankly, with Revan onboard I couldn't count it as an ally. Particular when our orders were to capture her – or failing that, kill her once and for all.

It shouldn't make me uneasy, considering all she had wrought. The orders came direct from the Senate, who'd called a secret emergency meeting directly after the intel drop from Master Atris of the Jedi on Coruscant. Get the Star Map details first, by any means possible. Once complete, capture the war criminal Revan Freeflight for trial. If this proves too difficult, then eliminate her instead.

Gently, gently, seemed to be the best approach. Revan's power was undeniable, but she didn't seem to be an overt threat – unless we panicked her. She had panicked on Manaan, after all, when she thought it was a trap.

I'd wanted her on one of our freighters – preferably Jordo's, as Tar'coya had a tendency to talk down to people, and he knew too much. Revan wouldn't be able to pick the details from Jordo's mind, seeing as Jordo knew nothing.

But - as Jordo and Tar'coya had been ordered - don't force her. Don't force any of the crew. Get them to the Meridus, one way or the other. If that meant travelling on a fragile smuggling vessel, then so be it. I knew I could count on Carth's loyalty, when it came right down to it – even if the strength of his regard for Revan had surprised me.

It shouldn't. I knew Jedi Knight Revan Freeflight – not well, but enough to appreciate her charisma. Her drive, and her undeniable power. And it was hard to think of her only as the betrayer who had killed so many and fallen so far. For Revan had once been a hero, and I couldn't dispel those memories of the Mandalorian Wars, no matter how I tried.

She's not the Sith Lord nor the Republic hero any longer. Merely a broken Jedi experiment still echoing with her power of old.

More red marks were diverging from defense of the Leviathan to chase after the two freighters. More… all of them, I realized, as my gaze roved over the tactical map. Only a small squad of six remained at the tail end of the Leviathan, a cargo section of the mighty cruiser, exactly where we'd already breached the hull.

Not an important part of the starship, not if Karath had sealed it – and he would have had to.

"Update Captain Merrix and Captain Onasi," I directed. "Order squadrons…" I trailed off, mind racing.

"This is an opportunity to hit the Leviathan," Tar'coya advised in his slurring voice. "We only have to worry about the defense turrets, with their snubs ordered away."

"Overwhelmed, the freighters will be, if aid is not sent," Vandar interjected. A note of alarm had entered his creaky voice. He had been insistent that Revan could come peaceably - if only the Jedi were allowed to deal with her. He claimed it would be the best, and safest, course of action.

But the Jedi had lost control of her since the Endar Spire perished, and that had been months ago, now. Vandar hadn't even encountered her. Revan Freeflight was presently a loose cannon, running free and damaged, with the power of a supernova and the predictability of Chaos Theory.

"Karath's over-extending himself, and this is our chance," Tar'coya cut in, his large eyes staring at me intently through the holo-map. "The Sith snubs will get to Merrix and Onasi first, even if we do chase them. We could put an end to Karath, to the Leviathan, right now."

We already have the Star Forge coordinates. If I can take that bastard Karath out, it will be a tangible blow to Darth Malak. In terms of the loss of ships, the loss of Karath, and the loss of whatever Dark Jedi must be onboard.

And if Revan dies because we did not send aid… then my orders are complete, anyway.

It was a sickly thought. Even more so, when I considered Jordo and his hundred or so troops onboard. And Carth.

Yet, sending our snubs after the 'Claw and the 'Hawk might not do any good, regardless. And the destruction of the Leviathan had the potential to save a far greater number of lives.

"Direct all squadrons to the Leviathan," I commanded, my eyes stilling on the six bogeys at the tail of the Sith cruiser. I could send some forces to take them out, but their current position was nowhere near the vulnerable parts of the massive Leviathan, and who knew how short our time window would be before the other Sith snubs would retreat to bolster the cruiser's defense. "Rho squadron to lead the offensive, and draw the turret fire. All remaining fighters to focus on the Leviathan's primary shield generator."

"Admiral-"

I raised a hand at Vandar's interjection, and part of me was surprised that he quietened. His bright blue eyes stared up at me sadly.

"I must think of the whole picture, Vandar," I told him quietly. "That is something the greatest of your Order understood, once."

"Tell Merrix and Onasi to dive back into the atmo," Tar'coya jumped in, snapping out orders to the comm techs. "They'll have a host of enemy fighters on them any moment. Any weather event might give them an advantage."

Kashyyyk doesn't have weather events, I thought, but kept silent. No matter how fast and manoeuvrable Carth's highly-specced smuggling vessel was, it wouldn't be able to outrun a snubfighter.

There was part of me that wished Carth and his crew could just vanish into hyperspace. Even if it meant Revan would escape…

…for there were few people I regarded as highly as I had her, once. Carth was probably one of them. And his fate, now, seemed intrinsically linked to hers.

"Comm from Captain Merrix, ma'am," Ensign Imosh interrupted. "The enemy snubs are within firing range of the Ruby's Claw."

"They've started," Tar'coya said, pointing to our squadrons milling near the front starboard section of the Leviathan.

"Rho Squadron is drawing turret fire," a comm tech updated from my left. "Rho Three is down."

"Tau Squadron going in for first sweep," another tech added from the next console across. Six green marks flickered brighter for an instance as they drew into the massive breadth of the Leviathan's image. I glanced back to the rear of the heavy cruiser, and stilled.

"Comm from Onasi's co-pilot, ma'am," Imosh said. "Snubs are flying beneath them and forcing the Ebon Hawk back up."

The six Sith fighters had disappeared from the holo-map.

"The Ruby's Claw is reporting damage and asking ETA of assistance, ma'am," Imosh reported. I was vaguely aware of him turning to look at me in question.

"The Sith snubs from earlier, that stayed behind," I said in a rush. "They've dropped from the map!"

Imosh had a hand to his headset, stumbling over the words as they were transmitted to him. "The Ebon Hawk has taken a hit and is being forced back towards the Leviathan. Most fighter fire is being focused on the Ruby's Claw."

"Find the Sith fighters!" Tar'coya snarled in alarm, turning to face the group of techs. "Check all frequencies! They should not be able to evade our scanners!"

We'd never come across cloaking technology that our higher class starships – of which the Meridus certainly counted – couldn't detect. Until the last year or so. The occasional destroyer, always one of the foreign makes from Malak's main fleet, vanishing in the midst of battle before reappearing elsewhere, usually just before launching a devastating blow.

Whatever technology Malak had acquired – almost definitely from the weapons factory the Star Maps pointed to – he hadn't been able to mass produce it yet. But to modify it to fit on some of Karath's ex-Republic snubs…

"Second sweep from Tau and Phi Squadrons. Rho one is down."

"Nothing on the scanners, sir," the first tech replied to Tar'coya's demand. "We've lost them."

"Comm from Captain Merrix," Ensign Imosh interrupted. "Their sublight drives are hit! The Ruby's Claw is switching to repulsors and making an emergency return to Kashyyyk!"

"Follow, the Ebon Hawk cannot," Vandar murmured. "Or destroy the Ruby's Claw, the Sith will."

He was right, and Carth would recognize it too. If he attempted to stay within Jordo's protection, the overwhelming Sith would finish off the Ruby's Claw – they might still. As for the Ebon Hawk – it was apparent that the Sith preferred the capture of Revan, but her death would do in a pinch. Both sides were after the same prize.

And we were in no position to aid the Ebon Hawk.

"There's no choice, we must keep going forward with this," I said, hearing the terseness in my voice. "Focus all fire on the Leviathan's shield generator. Hit fast and hard, we must give it everything while we have the chance."

"The Ebon Hawk is demanding an update on assistance, Admiral," a female tech intervened. "The co-pilot, er, is a bit rude."

The holo-map showed it unfolding; Jordo descending in a semi-controlled fashion back into the atmo, and the Ebon Hawk steadily being directed toward the Leviathan. The mass of Sith snubs would be giving Carth no choice, other than instant death. Our fighters were along the other side of the six hundred metre-long cruiser, their attention fixed on the shield generator which must be taking severe damage by now. The only way to give Carth any sort of chance would be to cripple the Leviathan-

"Proximity alarm on section starboard-4 of the Meridus, ma'am!" the closest comm tech cried out in alarm.

"What?" Tar'coya snapped. Vandar, next to him, hobbled closer to frown at the holo-map.

But there was nothing showing. And that section of the Meridus only housed the-

The breath hissed in my lungs. "Get all surrounding turbolasers and ion turrets to cover the gravity-well projectors!"

"Ion missile damage reported, Admiral! The starboard-4 shields are down!"

Some parts of the Republic cruiser had their own shields, for redundancy's sake. Ion damage could be reversed, depending on its severity-

"Get them back up! Recall-" No, our snubs were too far away. That bastard Karath planned this, drew his fighters away to lure us into all-out attack. He was willing to risk the hits to the Leviathan if it meant he could disable our interdicting technology. Without that, he could make the leap to hyperspace. All he needed was the prize. "Fire all defensive turrets to cover the gravity-wells! Those stealthed bastards are out there!"

"Admiral, the 'Hawk's taken a hit. It'll be within range of the Leviathan's tractor beam in minutes!"

Vandar motioned with his walking aid. "Turn back to aid, Phi squadron could-"

"The snubs stay on the Leviathan's shields," I snapped. "That's the only way we can help the 'Hawk."

There was a hiss from the first tech. "Explosion detected on gravity-well two- and one-"

"Starboard-4 shields are back up, Admiral!" the female tech gasped. "Secondary generator is online and fully functional."

"We've got one!" someone crowed. There was a small flare of light from the holo-map, and six red sparks appeared near the gravity-well projectors of the Meridus. One flickered before extinguishing. "Scanners have picked up the rest, and all turrets are firing at them now!"

"Interdiction is confirmed down," a low voice snapped out from behind a console. The remaining five red marks turned sharply, and began their retreat.

"Ma'am," Imosh interrupted, high-pitched and loud. "Captain Onasi reports that he's lost manual control. The Ebon Hawk is… it's caught in the Leviathan's tractor beam."

"Stang!" The curse hissed from my lips, and my eyes closed briefly. Damn Karath's black soul to the darkest pit in the galaxy. I could not let him escape into hyperspace with Revan Freeflight onboard! And the Leviathan… it was harder hit than the Meridus. We had a distinct advantage, if only I could stop him from fleeing!

"We go after the Ebon Hawk," Tar'coya slurred. I snapped open my eyes to see him staring at me. "We have five minutes, tops, before the 'Hawk is docked and clamped, and the Leviathan can escape. If we cannot have the prize, then neither shall the Sith!"

"No!" Vandar exclaimed sharply. "Against us, she will surely turn, if you resort to that-"

Tar'coya scoffed. "I'm not planning on anyone surviving, Jedi-"

"Rho six and Rho two are down! Third sweep from Phi and Tau squadrons. Sith snubs have returned and are engaging Xi squadron."

"I've lost comms with the 'Hawk!" Ensign Imosh slammed a fist down in frustration.

"Predict their survival, you cannot-"

"Sensors show shields are down along the Leviathan's hull, Admiral!" a tech gasped. "The generator is damaged, but not destroyed-"

"The hyperdrive," I whispered. I knew the Leviathan well, and its schematics were well-studied by our best engineers. For, after all, it had been built for our army. And its hyperdrive was located near the front of the hull. Exposed, and only protected by one of the heavy cruiser's shields – which were now down. "Focus all remaining snubs on the Leviathan's hyperdrive generator! On the hull, twenty metres from the bow, near the main inertial compressor! There's more than one way to thwart a hyperjump!"

The green marks on the holo-map turned to face their next objective. To prevent a leap into hyperspace, we had to land a crippling blow within minutes. On the holo-map, I could see our squads wheeling into action as orders were relayed, and could only hope it would be enough – and I tried not to dwell on the blue speck of the Ebon Hawk, being slowly pulled into the Leviathan's waiting dock.

xXx

Revan Freeflight:

My heart was leaping in my throat and pounding in my ears like a Weequay thunder drum. The last fifteen minutes had been a steady intensification of danger and risk; the hurried departure from Kashyyyk merging into a desperate air battle, with the 'Hawk outgunned and trapped in realspace, and our only ally – the Republic military escort, who wasn't my ally in truth – faltering against the superior Sith squadrons.

And if we prevailed, I was headed straight into a Republic trap. Not that that seemed particularly likely, right about now.

Our shields were down to twenty percent. The life-support system blinked a warning about the state of the recirculators. One of the repulsors had been hit. Oh, our hyperdrive was still fine, but fat lot of good that would do with two interdictors blocking hyperspace entry.

And yet, while Carth and old man Bindo did their best against overwhelming odds, I was trapped in the rear seat, hyperaware of the other threat we faced.

I faced.

Jolee Bindo must have sensed the presence. Juhani, too. Carth had only managed to mutter some vague comment about a frelling Mandalorian slipping onboard after saving Canderous' life, but then the 'Hawk's veering route had been cut off by a waiting squadron of Sith, and Carth's attention was otherwise engaged.

There was only one person it could be.

No, dung for brains, I immediately slammed myself, it could be dozens… hundreds of Force sensitives, if only they know of my existence. But there was only one I'd encountered on Kashyyyk, who had been in the Shadowlands the same time as Canderous.

The presence hadn't moved from the turret room and, despite my alarm, I'd been keeping a close eye on the navi-console – what I could see from the rear of the cockpit. Whoever he was – Yudan Rosh, it's sodding Yudan Rosh, you know it has to be – he had a higher hit rate than Canderous.

He was willing to shoot down ships from his own side, to keep up the façade – and he had to know I'd be aware of him by now.

A warning alarm wailed from the ship's speakers.

"Stang!" Carth cursed, jerking sideways on the steering column. The 'Hawk didn't respond, and I knew the inevitable had finally happened. "We've lost manual control!"

Jolee Bindo leaned forward to speak into the comm. "Eh, your aid's been great, Mr Ensign," he muttered into the mic. "Send my regards to the brass. The Sith have us like a burra-cod on a hook. You gonna to watch from the sidelines, or actually do something for a change?"

Carth's hands flew over the navi-controls in desperation. We'd barely had a chance to talk, but when the Ruby's Claw had floundered, I'd heard clearly where he'd sent his son. Dustil will be okay. The snubs left the 'Claw alone as soon as we did. It should be able to make an emergency landing back on Kashyyyk.

Our predicament was far more ominous. But - now a tractor beam held us motionless - I could finally move without the g-forces sending me sprawling. The safety harness sprang free underneath the fingers of my good hand, and I ripped through the medi-restraint pinning my off-arm to my chest.

My fingers still ached with a deep, dull pain. What was left of them, anyway. The arm itself would do. It'd have to.

"We have only minutes to come up with a plan." My words rushed out as I stood, somewhat inelegantly. "Send everyone to the common room. Now!"

Maybe there was some way of turning my unexpected guest into an advantage. I had to think of one, because the last thing we needed was for things to get frelling worse.

I barrelled into the common room, gaze frantically coasting over Zaalbar, Mission and Juhani, all belted safely on the plimfoam benches. Mission was wide-eyed with fright as she nestled close to Zaalbar. Juhani… the fine fur on her neck and arms was standing out in shock. The alarm that surrounded her was palpable, and her gaze was firmly locked in the direction of the turret room. Her eyes snapped to mine at my entrance.

"I know," I said curtly to her unspoken question. "I have an idea of who he is-"

"Turrets are down," Canderous grated as he stormed into the room. "We're kriffed. What's the plan?"

Behind him, a figure in full Mandalorian armour walked in. Canderous acknowledged his presence with a slight tilt to his head. "This is Dan Fett. I offered him a-"

"Dan Fett." My words, cold and hard, cut through Canderous' like a blade sheering through churned frostti cream. My gaze travelled over the high-backed helm that must have belonged to a species with a longer cranium at one stage. "Nice armour. Pick that up from one of the Mandos you killed in the Shadowlands, did you?"

The second the terse words began to leave my mouth, Canderous was already swinging around, interpreting the threat, a light blaster in his grasp-

"Canderous!" I snapped. The Force rallied to me, a storm of power that echoed the darkness lashing around the armoured newcomer. Canderous, for all of his strengths, couldn't help here. "Hold!"

"Ge'hutuun chakaar!" Canderous cursed, his blaster pointed dead straight at his companion. And Yudan – for it was him, the black aura was clearly recognizable now – crossed his arms and leaned back against the doorway. "You lying shabuir!"

"Let's all calm down for a moment," Bindo's dry voice appeased as he entered the room. I sensed Carth follow him in and stalk to my side, but kept my gaze firmly on Yudan. "A ship in flight ain't the place for a firefight or a Force wrestle, young pups. Space has a tendency to be indiscriminate with its whole icy coldness and instant suffocation business."

"I didn't lie to you, Ordo," Yudan said, his helmet turning ever so slightly to address the irate Mandalorian. Yudan might sound nonchalant, but his choke-hold on the Force told me otherwise. "Even my name… well, my ma used to call me Dan. And the Fett offered to adopt me once, when I was their prisoner. Dan Fett's not much of a stretch, really."

"What do you want?" I hissed, not caring a frelling damn for his justifications. "Give me a reason, right now, why we shouldn't just kill you."

He pushed off from the wall, causing Zaalbar to growl from the other side of the room. "I saved Ordo's life. I shot down a dozen Sith snubs. I didn't kill you when I had the chance, Jen Sahara. Is that enough for you?" He loosed a short chuckle that was as cold and mirthless as the depths of space. "And you know what I'm after. I told you in the Shadowlands."

I blinked, finding myself silenced by those words. I hadn't been in the most stable frame of minds then – truthfully, I still wasn't, even if I had cobbled together a somewhat shaky framework with which to move forward. Yudan had planned to kill me, I recalled. Bandon had been focused on capture, but Yudan's drive was to end me, once and for all.

And then, the memory of his words shot through my mind like liquid fire.

I swore to kill Darth Revan. And I will, the first time I see her. She must be inside you still, somewhere.

"I vowed to Ordo I wasn't a threat to his companions," Yudan added in a monotone. "I'll hold to that, for now."

For now.

Carth cleared his throat, and laid a hand on my arm. "We have a minute or two left," he murmured. There was an ominous thunk from above as towing clamps settled on the outside of the 'Hawk's hull, probably drawing the freighter into a waiting docking bay. Carth's gaze was darkly intense on mine, and I could recognize the faith he held in me, despite the peril of our situation.

It was a sickening reminder of what he didn't know.

Screw it all, I need to focus on the situation, and play it out with the hand I've been dealt.

"Jolee, throw your 'saber to Juhani. She can be a double-wielder; you're a harmless trader who bought a ride off Kashyyyk." I glanced over to see the hermit raising an eyebrow, before doing as I bid. He was the one person on our ship that wouldn't be detailed in any crew manifest, which might just give Jolee the advantage we needed. And as for Yudan Rosh…

"We could trade you," I whispered, staring at him again. "The release of a Dark Jedi, for some of our crew."

Carth's grasp on my arm tightened at my acknowledgment of Yudan's true calling. But even as Yudan cocked his head from behind that sodding anonymous helmet, I recognized the futility of my own suggestion. Yes, because the Sith are known to ransom their men back, particularly those who got themselves caught by the Jedi.

"You could try," Yudan said mildly, as if content to sit back and do nothing more than observe my next course of action. The dispassionate bastard. Is he just going to watch from the sidelines, waiting to see if I slip the smallest inch towards the Dark Side?

The way things were going, he wouldn't have to wait long.

"Jen," Carth urged, a second before the 'Hawk thumped against something solid. It was a sinister sound. The freighter canted slightly, before thumping again, as if levelling onto a docking platform.

We've landed. Sithspit. We're in the sodding Leviathan. And we're out of time.

"Right," I said, half-snarl. "You vowed you're not a threat? Then you can sodding well help, Dan Fett. You can say you've come onboard and overwhelmed us during the aerial battle. Canderous, get yourself properly armed, you've defected to his side. The two of you can lead the rest of us out as subdued prisoners."

"Jen," Juhani murmured, fixing Jolee's 'saber onto her belt next to her own. "I do not think-"

It reminded me, then, of another detail. "Give me Zhar's damn 'saber," I demanded, glaring at the high-backed helm. My good hand twisted Yudan's lightsaber from my belt, and I threw the hilt at him with force.

He caught it effortlessly, and paused, as if I'd surprised him. But it wasn't like Yudan could play the part of a Dark Jedi while his prisoner held onto his damn 'saber. Play the part? How can I gamble that he won't simply return to his old post? Did he even leave it? A second later, Yudan tilted his head and lobbed a deactivated cylinder back to me. I clipped it on my belt, right next to Karon's old weapon. Somehow, it seemed fitting.

"Zhar's lightsaber," Jolee echoed. His voice was flat and low, and his gaze narrowed as he stared at the armoured Dark Jedi. "After this, you and I are going to have a long talk, sonny."

And then, a booming message echoed throughout the ship.

"The Ebon Hawk is surrounded. Turrets are locked and will discharge in five minutes unless the entire crew has disembarked with their hands clearly visible above their head. Any aggression will result in death."

Mission whimpered. Juhani stood in a fluid motion, her face set and resolute. She gave me a nod of agreement or support, as if waiting for my next command. Canderous muttered something undecipherable, staring down in disgust at the lightweight blaster in his hand, and then strode out of the room. He's gone to get his repeater, I realized, and maybe a dozen more weapons knowing him. He'd better be quick.

"Jen, this is Karath's ship," Carth whispered. There was something in his tone, something dark or tormented that made me glance to him. I'd missed Carth, down in the Shadowlands, and now that I knew the truth…

But I didn't have the time to lament and wring my hands over just how awful his reaction would be. For the kath crap had well and truly hit the fan, and I needed to frelling step up. I couldn't afford to be off-guard, or wallowing in emotional angst.

"Karath," I echoed, racking my mind for details on that vaguely familiar name. Kylah… she'd mentioned him, when she'd sent a missive to Bandon in the Shadowlands. He's the officer in charge of the Leviathan. But that didn't explain the look of bitterness etched into Carth's face.

"Admiral Saul Karath," Carth said quietly. "I knew him, once. He…"

Carth didn't finish. He didn't have to, and I didn't have the time to find out what caused the hatred I heard underlying his words - much as I wished to. I slipped my good hand into his, and gave it a brief squeeze.

Yudan's helmet moved, ever so slightly, and I was struck with the uncomfortable feeling that he was staring at our enclosed hands.

"You have four minutes remaining before we open fire on the ship."

Canderous bowled back into the common room, his heavy repeater slung in grasp. Zaalbar had straightened to his feet, and Mission followed suit, biting her lip. She caught my gaze, then, and slowly moved one hand to motion at her utility belt. There's spikes in there. She'll be frisked, but if she can hide one…

I gave her the smallest of nods, but my faith wasn't there. For no matter how I looked at it, our prospects were dire.

I couldn't trust Yudan. Stars, I'd be hard-pressed to think of anyone I trusted less. He could very well turn around and betray Canderous. As for the rest of the crew, our options were limited. A Wookiee's strength wouldn't be underestimated by Sith forces - I couldn't see how Zaalbar could break himself free against such overwhelming odds. Mission was a great stealth op, for a fifteen year old Twi'lek urchin. But even if she managed to sneak away a tech spike, I had the feeling the Leviathan's security was more than one step up from slicing into apartments back on Taris. Juhani was a known Force user; like me, she'd be neutralized first. And Carth was too damn famous to be anything other than heavily guarded.

We were pinning our hopes on Jolee Bindo – who'd followed me back to the 'Hawk like a bad smell on Kashyyyk - being taken as nothing more than a harmless old trader. Yet that all hinged on Yudan sodding Rosh not betraying Jolee's Force sensitivity.

There had to be something else, some other advantage I could wrangle from this situation. I had to find something, for the odds playing in my head were not coming out in my favour. In desperation, I breathed in deep, centring myself as my eyes dropped closed, and stretched out wide with the power of my mind.

Searching for anything.

If Juhani and Jolee glowed in my Force sense, then Yudan burned a raging fire. I let the energy under my command drift outwards, until I could sense the hundreds of specks of life surrounding the Ebon Hawk, which was parked in a massive docking bay.

Even if I went out fighting, there was no way I could protect everyone on board. Not against that many, not with defensive turrets aimed at the 'Hawk. They would be willing to destroy the freighter, to risk damaging this section of the mighty Leviathan, if I resisted.

No, I couldn't fight back. Not overtly, not right now.

I reeled the Force back in, slowly and deliberately, until my senses were settled only on the Ebon Hawk. So few sentients here, compared to the seething mass of life directly beyond. Every electrical oscillation was outlined in my minds-eye, every room in the ship made tangible by whatever swirl of energy or life or electricity I could pick up.

With a puff of air, I dropped the Force and snapped open my eyes.

"I need a minute in the cargo bay with the droids," I rapped out. "Alone."

xXx

Rulan Prolik:

The shadows of the wroshyrs enveloped me like silent wraiths; ominous friends who had kept me company for so many years. In truth, I enjoyed the solitude, but it would have been mind-numbingly boring without my links to the outside world.

And now, events were afoot that impacted even a retired Overseer of the GenoHaradan.

Not that one ever truly retired from the GenoHaradan.

The holo-image of Eridius shone a translucent cyan that reflected into the nearby environs. The Shadowlands limited me to shifts with advanced vision, unless I deigned to wear an electronic visor. I was not fond of them.

I had tried the Wookiee form more than once; stars knew I had ended the life of enough to accurately imitate their form. But their vocal abilities inhibited easy communication, so my shift of choice on this planet was Arkanian. Even when I had impersonated that meddling fool Jolee Bindo, I had incorporated Arkanian physiology for sight.

::This is unsettling,:: Eridius murmured from the array platform. I'd been more than a little irritated to discover just how many of my communication platforms Bindo had destroyed. Still, he hadn't found them all. ::We have analysed the transmission you intercepted, Rulan. The schematic appears to be a ship factory of sorts, although we do not understand its power source.::

"Revan's core of strength, at the height of her power," I commented. "And now, she leaves to destroy it. And Malak."

::If she gets that far.::

"If there is one sentient whose fate we have been unable to predict-"

::Yes, yes,:: Eridius interrupted, somewhat irritably. His creased eyes frowned at me through the holo-image. He was a worthy successor for the GenoHaradan, and I did not regret choosing him as a replacement. He was no field operative, though. In some ways, I rather thought that gave him a perspective other Overseers lacked. ::You believe she will succeed then?::

I sat back on a massive log, frowning as I considered the odds. "She has a chance. I won't commit to more than that."

::But she recalls nothing of our alliance. And nothing of what first urged her to align with us.::

"No. There is something of both the old Jedi Knight and the Sith Lord there, but she is not what she once was. Only extensive neural scans would give us an indication of how much remained."

Once we knew what to look for, our data analysts had unearthed the details of Revan's fate. Brain damage. Mind wipe. Identity replacement. Even for a sentient as old as I, it was intriguing.

The Force was both a slippery and powerful tool, and one of the few abilities I could not engineer for myself. A shame, that.

Once, Darth Revan had promised us a vision of GenoHaradan success. A Republic stronger than the stagnant beast that stalled under local politics and petty grievances. An efficient military machine that could withstand a greater threat than the Mandalorians had been. The carrot: a guaranteed seat for an agent on the Senate. Secret, of course, but signed off by the Lord of the Sith herself.

She would not divulge details of the threat, and we tried – oh, how we tried – to find out what had been the trigger for the birth of Darth Revan.

Our analysts believed it was more than just the corruption of their Force and its Dark Side, even though history had shown that could be immeasurable in its power. But no, I amongst others was convinced something had happened after Malachor - and the GenoHaradan still, to this day, wished to know what.

Any threat that powerful could be destabilising to our Order, and first we needed to understand it.

::It is in our interests to see Darth Malak overturned, but only if we can do so unnoticed.::

Eridius had turned solemn, and I knew, then, what he was about to ask of me. Kashyyyk would be waiting for me after all, and my first loyalty was, as ever, to the GenoHaradan.

And I always made a point of being honest with myself. Revan intrigued me. Not much did, these days.

"I shall travel to this factory," I said. "It will be easy to replace a Sith soldier. I can watch and learn from there, Eridius."

His blue lips pursed, but he gave me a short nod. ::If there is some way of bringing her into our debt without showing your hand, then do so, Rulan. The Jedi Knight, at least, always honoured a debt.::

"And she has much to explain to us," I murmured. "I shall make it so, Eridius. I will call in when I can."

With another nod, the Second Overseer cut the connection, and I was once more enveloped with varying shadows of black. Above me, high in the skies, a battle raged. I would be best travelling to another part of the planet before finding a ship.

With an inward sigh, my limbs melded into the forelegs of a katarn. My head twitched, before shifting into a long reptilian cranium. Thought-processes were always tricky to keep a hold of, when shifting into a non-sentient, but I'd acquired the knack of keeping my brain physiology intact while changing. Smell, sight and hearing morphed and amplified, and it took a moment to adjust.

Then, with a lash of my extending tail, I bounded deep into the shadows.

xXx

Canderous Ordo:

That corpse-robbing shabuir was still standing, leaning casually against the wall. I damned myself for being such a kriffing di'kut. I'd thought there was something suspicious about him, but like a fool I'd ignored my gut and was now paying the price.

He knows Revan. The bastard is here because of Revan.

Revan's insane strategy relied solely on an alliance with a Dark Jedi masquerading as a Mando'ade. And what would it grant us, even if it paid off? My freedom, alongside kriffing Dan Fett. Maybe I could work with that, maybe find some way to free the others – but only if I relied on that bastard actually holding to Revan's shaky plan.

She must realize, that odds were he'd turn around and betray the lot of us.

Revan may have been renowned, once, for risky gambles that paid off - but this smacked more of wishful thinking than anything else.

I gotta tell her the truth. She'll be captured, tortured – I can't let her walk into that without knowing.

Onasi had already left, flatly ignoring Revan's plea for a minute alone and granting her, maybe, thirty seconds before following in her wake. I scowled, and knew that time was fast running out.

"You have two minutes remaining before we open fire on the ship."

The words echoed loudly throughout the freighter. I stood, my eyes landing on Juhani as I did so, standing silently near the exit.

"I'll go get them," I said roughly, and the Cathar blinked solemnly at me. Her fur was bristling, standing up from beneath the warrior's tail on her head, but she stood ready to obey Revan. A warrior, following her leader into near-certain doom.

For all our differences, there were things that connected us, too.

I caught Mission's gaze as I strode out the room. She had her head tucked into the Wookiee's, one hand clenched protectively over her utility belt that would be stripped from her waist the moment the Sith forces grabbed her. My mouth thinned. I couldn't do anything about that, and the anger that surged inside at the thought of her capture was irrational, at best.

Mission was the child of the group, the kid, the one to protect until she was competent enough to stand on her own. Sure, amongst my people, any teen her age would likely have been blooded twice over, or at the least sent on a clan raid to test her mettle.

But Mission wasn't Mando'ade. She was soft, mouthy, and on the gullible side if she truly believed she could smuggle a tech spike under the noses of Sith – some of who would know exactly who Jen Sahara was, and would be suitably suspicious of her companions.

Still, I wasn't gonna stop Mission trying.

I heard the hatch of the common room hiss shut behind me as I stomped down the freighter's short corridor. Revan had some other trick up her sleeve, something to do with the damn droids, even if for the life of me I couldn't figure out how they would assist. First thing the Sith boarding party would do, would be to shove restraining bolts down their respective gullets.

I rounded the corner. The entrance to the cargo bay was open, and standing in the middle of it was-

I stopped, eyes widening in disbelief. Onasi had his hands trapped in Revan's dark curls, and was snogging her soundly, somewhat desperately, pushed up against the side of the open hatch.

Mand'alor's balls! It was common knowledge who Revan's old lover was. To think she'd replaced the now Dark Lord of the Sith with a Republic loyalist would have been kriffing hilarious if we weren't about to be boarded.

And Onasi… if he ever found out the truth his brain would short-circuit.

"Kids, there's a time for that sort of thing!" I snapped out. "It ain't now. Not sure I can think of a worse one than right now."

They jumped apart, Onasi turning to scowl at me. Revan's cheeks were flushed, but her gaze was intent and serious.

"You done here?" I drawled, raising an eyebrow.

To give her credit, Revan recovered with quick aplomb. She gave me a short nod. "Yes," she muttered, disentangling herself and striding towards me. "Let's move out."

"Jen," I ground out, as she brushed past. "One second. I need to talk to you."

She shot me an indecipherable look, but didn't stop walking. "There's a time for that sort of thing, Canderous," she snarked, one hand rising to thump against the hatch control of the common room.

"You have one minute remaining before we open fire on the ship."

There was a twitch of black humour on Revan's face at that.

"We're out of time!" Someone – sounded like that old robe who'd followed Revan onboard – hollered from the hatch beyond.

"Let's go, now!" Onasi urged, motioning us forward.

"(They're going to torture you, break you, and hand you over to Malak.)" I switched to Mando'a. The hatch swished open under Revan's hand, but I saw her shoulders tense. "(You're a bigger prize than Bastila. Do you know why?)"

Her head turned, and I saw the blank shock in her eyes. Names remained the same no matter the language, and I wasn't going to voice hers in front of Onasi. Beyond the open hatch, stood the others, waiting frantically for us to get a move on.

"Come on, guys!" Mission yelled.

Did she get it? Was it knowledge I saw in her face, surprise that I knew the truth and accepted it? Or did the stunned expression show her complete lack of understanding?

"We must leave, now!" a feline voice hissed, and Revan turned away from me, not answering or acknowledging my message. In the common room, waiting, was the armoured betrayer I'd led into the ship, the one who knew Mando'a almost as well as a born Mando'ade.

I was out of time. I should have told Revan back on kriffing Korriban.

"Go!" Revan ordered, motioning everyone out of the 'Hawk with a wave of one hand. Her other, I noted, was held tight to her chest and I recalled she'd had some sort of injury in the Shadowlands. "Keep your arms free and raised, guys. They'll only stun you, then."

"Only," Mission muttered. The Wookiee howled something at her before they followed the Cathar's quick trot out of the room.

"Whatever you did with the droids won't work," the lying shabuir said as Revan walked passed him. "You know that, right?"

"I'm allowed to play my last flip card, Yudan," she murmured, Carth's hand on the small of her back as she strode away, head held high.

In the distance, I heard the roar of a crowd, the yelled orders to stand down. It was just him and me left in the common room, his visor turning to face me as I stared at him. Yudan. I knew that name. Yudan Rosh. A key Jedi Knight of Revan's, who had rallied the Republic forces against many of the Fett advances.

Some, he'd even won.

Suddenly, his answers in the Shadowlands made a lot more sense.

My teeth bared as his armoured gloves raised to remove the battered helm that was twice again too high for a Twi'lek's head. Piercing yellow eyes stared at me a moment later, betraying absolutely nothing.

"I fought in the damn Wars, Ordo," he said, his words cold and dark. "Against your darling Cassus Fett. While he raped civilians and razed land he'd already conquered merely to impress Mandalore. Not the best example of your people."

My eyes narrowed and my grip clenched on the repeater in my grasp.

"War is war, Rosh," I growled. "I would have expected a Dark Jedi under Malak to understand that."

He didn't answer, instead jerking his head towards the 'Hawk's exit. "You first, Ordo. Better raise your hands."

And so, I found myself walking down the durasteel corridor of the Ebon Hawk, inwardly cursing myself and Yudan Rosh and even Revan for not cobbling together a better plan. As I stepped into the artificial light of the Leviathan's docking bay, making out the figures of Zaalbar and Mission directly ahead, I threw one last warning behind me.

"Remember what you vowed, Rosh," I said over my shoulder. My hands lifted into the air, into a surrender that galled me to the core. A hundred weapons swivelled in my direction as my boots clambered down the landing ramp. "You vowed not to harm my crewmates."

I didn't have to look at him to see the unconcerned shrug. "Well, harm is such a relative term." His voice surged in volume, then, much the same as the temper swirling in my gut. "Lieutenant Delia! It is me, Yudan Rosh. I've overwhelmed this band of misfits, to bring them here for the glory of Lord Malak. Stun them."

Juhani was already down, having led the crew out. I could only hope it was a stun bolt that felled her. Next to her was the prone form of the old man the Sith didn't know about. The one Revan hoped to pass off as a harmless old trader.

My stomach churned with impotent fury as Mission collapsed in Zaalbar's arms.

A female Sullustan garbed in an officer's uniform stood near the front of rows of soldiers, her eyes fixed behind me.

"I'm with Rosh," I snarled, hearing the Dark Jedi strut down the loading ramp to my side. There was a flare of red as his lightsaber ignited.

"My lord," the Sullustan acknowledged Rosh. "We had heard of your demise."

Revan, further ahead, turned around to stare at her once-comrade. He stared right back, pointing his 'saber at her. "Make sure you isolate the Force sensitives, Delia. The female human, the Cathar, and the old male human."

The words were a punch to my gut.

Dammit, Revan, you better have a kriffing plan to get out of this that doesn't rely on Yudan Rosh!

Revan fell to her knees from a hit, quiet even as her eyes accused Rosh. Her gaze travelled beyond us then, beyond the 'Hawk, a contortion of disgust marring her face like she'd spotted something even more unpleasant than the betrayal of someone who used to be a comrade. Revan's hair whipped upwards, as if a gust of wind surged in a torrent around her. I wondered if it was a final, desperate surge of the Force, before half a dozen stun bolts finished the job.

She dropped, collapsing next to Onasi.

"Restrain them!" the Sith officer shouted, pointing at the fallen bodies of my crewmates. The closest row of soldiers ran forward to do her bidding.

Yudan Rosh turned slowly to look at me. A smirk formed on his face, creasing the ugly black lines of corruption that marked the stronger Dark Jedi like a badge of kriffing insanity. His eyes were blank, though, and did not match the dark humour twisting his lips.

"General Ordo," Rosh said, and I knew then that I was going the same way as old man from Kashyyyk, the one who'd followed Revan onboard, the one who Rosh had betrayed. Rosh's gloved hands motioned to the nearest soldiers, before gesturing to me. "I must admit, I'm curious. Jen Sahara knows who she is. Do you?"

I felt my expression harden, and Rosh picked the truth from it. His mouth quirked. "Should have expected that from a Mandalorian general. I'm only surprised you kept it from her." He turned to face the approaching soldiers. "Stun him."

I turned to the side and spat. "You'll get yours, Rosh." A sharp pain in my side, followed by a growing numbness. "Mando'ad draar digu," I muttered. Something clobbered me hard over the head, and I staggered before falling over.

A Mando'ade never forgets.

xXx

Bastila Shan:

The stars winked at me, like tiny jewels of hope, taunting me with the freedom I no longer possessed. This wing of the Star Forge was grand; replete with prodigious viewing rooms that housed floor-to-ceiling windows made of a ferracrystal compound so translucent there appeared to be no barrier at all. At times, I indulged in the delusion that I could take one step forward, and then gently float away into space.

Away from Malak, away from the Forge, away from everything.

There was no one in this part of Malak's dominion. No soldiers, marching in unison; no engineers or techs or support staff. Perhaps isolation was meant to be my next test, for the only company Malak allowed me other than himself were the nearby manufacturing droids, who oversaw the massive turbines that churned out chunks of machinery later assembled as ever more cogs in the Sith armada.

Still, Malak had a manpower problem. I had ascertained that much from my time here. The Star Forge might be a powerful weapons factory from the Rakatan era, but unlimited starfighters were little more than pleasing decoration without pilots to fly them. A shame for Malak that he had not also uncovered a training facility to work alongside the Forge.

Experienced, competent pilots were harder, it seemed, to replace than starships.

I walked slowly through the cavernous room, my eyes fixed on unfamiliar star systems so many light-years away from my current position. My feet, now shod in gleaming black dress shoes, echoed a dull clip-clop around the empty chamber. The shadowy robe Malak claimed was a gift from the Star Forge itself sat heavy on my shoulders, and swished around me like a wave of icy seafoam in the night's darkness.

Malak had me dressed to his liking, and I found I had not the heart to fight him on this. Even if a lifetime ago, I would not have allowed anyone to dictate my garb.

But I wore the Jedi brown without protest. A good little Padawan, bending knee to my betters.

But that had been my choice.

Really? Choice? Since when was any Padawan allowed to choose otherwise? I was snatched at little more than seven turnings of Coruscant's sun. What choice does a girl-child have, when the all-powerful Jedi tell her what to do?

I sighed in wearied frustration, shaking my head to dispel the altercating thoughts that were not uncommon to me. It seemed the more I was alone, the more at war I myself became. But solitude was an improvement from being restrained and medicated! I would reassure myself of this, when it seemed like my mind wandered down caliginous alleys and I struggled to scrape up the wherewithal to find my way back.

Malak had restricted me to this wing of the Forge. His command was absolute, and after my abortive escape attempt I could not find the strength to defy him. Not without Revan. Not on my own. Not after having lived through his displeasure when he had uncovered exactly how much involvement Revan had had in my brief taste of freedom.

Malak's pleasure and sickly pride in me had dissolved into a furious well of disappointment. And this time, he unleashed it as a psychic scouring, a mental thrust of brutal power that I could no more halt than one could hold back a supernova.

My mind, always a tightly locked chest, my cornerstone of skill and expertise, had bled out in front of him like a smashed chick's egg. Like complete failure. Oh, Malak had no finesse, and found answers only to what he directly sought, but it was still failure. And to think, I had been hailed as the new Jedi hero, the one with such a grand and powerful gift of the mind, and yet my barriers were little more than spider-webs in his way as he strode forward.

Malak honed in on my thoughts and plucked the memories out like cheap trinkets he then promptly discarded. Flashes of Revan, my comatose captive on that harrowing flight away from Deralia. Of Jen Sahara, dying as we collected her holocron imprint without her consent – and hadn't he had something to say about Jedi ethics on that one. Of Revan-as-Jen Sahara, no more than a silent ghost in a pathetic shell.

And then the Endar Spire. The impossible. Revan, truly, slowly, returning to herself.

Her struggles against me on Tatooine. Her struggles against the Dark Side on Korriban. Her overconfidence and conviction against overwhelming odds, even when perhaps the correct path was caution. The chasm in her mind where her past experience once was.

All potential fault-lines for Malak to exploit.

The bonds Revan held to all the crew of the Ebon Hawk, but especially Mission. And, I believed, Carth - even if she did not know it herself.

Oh, Malak had lingered over that one, and I tasted the shame of betrayal sear through my self-respect.

And when I thought I could bear the mental violation no longer, he had turned to my memories of Kylah.

Kylah, murmuring that I was not ready for the Knight trials. Kylah, "protecting" me from galactic fame. Kylah, holding me back from connecting with others. Taking credit for my talents. Deceiving me. Duping me.

Kylah, Kylah, Kylah.

My hatred burned like nothing I had felt before. Like the power of the Star Forge itself responded to my enmity of that schutta. The Forge- it felt like a living entity. I could hear it, sometimes, whispering to me, suffocating my soul and my sense of right from wrong.

You could defeat Malak now, if you catch him unawares. He has left you with your lightsaber. Why do you not use it against him?

But I had tried. I had tried, and failed. And I would try again; rail at the inevitable, at the monster that was Darth Malak, for what else could I do? Even though I was no match for him. He was too strong, with his Force augmented so by the omnipotence of the Forge.

I wondered - even as I knew it a dangerous contemplation - where the heights of my power would peak, if I were the Master of the Star Forge. I would be able to defeat Malak, then. My Battle Meditation would sweep his armada into nothingness. I could stop the likes of Kylah from drawing another breath into her lying, betraying body.

Sometimes, the Star Forge seemed to speak to me in Malak's voice.

Where are the Jedi now? You are their golden child, set up as their hero after Revan failed so publicly. Surely, they could have found a way to protect you on Manaan, to nurse you back to health in the company of allies – rather than send you off, comatose and vulnerable, in the company of an amnesiac Sith Lord who had so recently scuttled the very ship you were sent away in.

No matter that Revan and I had grown close since then, that my bond to her felt more akin to sisterhood these days. The Order could not have foreseen that development, nor the Republic forces who were supposed to be assisting me.

I had awoken from my trials in Hrakert Station to find Karon dead, Revan in command, and our crew headed to Korriban.

And, yes, Revan had been remarkable and our mission had succeeded. But still, I was no more than a dejarik piece to the Order, to be used dispassionately and discarded when convenient.

Kylah would not have been able to capture me had the Jedi or the Republic given adequate aid.

Sometimes, it was my own voice I heard.

They will blame Revan for my capture. For everything that went wrong. They always do. Oh, I could not deny her culpability in her own atrocities, but these days I felt I held more objectivity about Revan Freeflight than most of the Jedi Order. Certainly more than when I was merely another mouth spouting the same Jedi rhetoric. Now it was the what-ifs that plagued me.

Would Revan have fallen, had the Jedi High Council backed her? Carth asked me that, once, and I dismissed it as preposterous. But the truth is, the Senate rallied around her – they, at least, believed the Core was truly under threat. Any politician or military leader of import believed that.

I could not deny that some on the Jedi High Council had always disapproved of Revan – her advanced age when she was found, her meteoric rise and unprecedented standing amongst the most experienced of Knights, her not-quite-forbidden romance with Malak.

Her willingness to challenge authority, openly, when she believed it to be wrong.

What would have happened had it been a Master, a Jedi more accepted by the conservatives than Revan Freeflight, who had stood up and demanded that the Order support the Republic in its hour of need?

I felt like I knew the answer to that, and it burned with resentment on my bond-sister's behalf.

I tried to dispel those thoughts that I knew, deep down, were corrosive to my own well-being. I scrabbled to hang on to the fragile spark of light within me, that undercut all the despair and rage and hate I suffered through.

It was a thin thread of gold, almost completely obscured by the shadows engulfing me, but it was there.

Hope.

Revan's shields against me still held. Somewhere, she was still fighting. All I had endured, I would do over again, to give Revan – to give us – this chance at success.

For a time, I had held Malak at bay. Our dance had lasted minutes or hours or years, in that forsaken, empty hangar. I saw each second as a gift to my bond-sister, a droplet of time to fill her cup of chance, to increase the odds of her escaping Kashyyyk before Malak ripped the truth from my mind, before Malak ordered the plasma to rain down on the forest world.

In the end, my diversions weren't enough, and Malak deduced her escape. His orders were sent to the Leviathan, and I suffered through his fury.

I knew it had not occurred long ago, and yet it felt like an eternity. That gold thread of hope bowed under the weight of despair, but it was still there. It was still there.

Revan. That you will find a way to escape.

To finish what we started.

And to free me.

The last thought was selfish, I knew, but I could not help it.

I could feel him drawing near, yet again. I did not know if it was my own senses or the Star Forge whispering to me, but I drew my thoughts in tight, clenched my shoulders, and kept my gaze blindly on the galaxies ahead as I heard a door behind me hiss open. His footsteps padded closer.

Each one, a sinister thud of advancing corruption.

"The Unknown Regions," Malak murmured in his mechanical voice. He was speaking of the stars. Astronomy was not an interest of mine, and I could be staring at the Core for all I knew. "We travelled there, after Malachor. The Force feels more alive in the wilds of space. Some cannot handle it."

He paused, then, and I could not help but question, even as I kept my head firmly turned away from him. "What did you find?"

"Some things are better left alone, little one." Interestingly, his voice turned blank and monotone. Even through his motorized vocabulator, his emotions were normally perceptible. "Revan never did understand when it was time to step away. Curiosity was always one of her flaws."

He spoke no more, and I knew it was not wise to question any further. I could not trust what he would say, at any rate.

But he had found something. They had found something. Corrupted and jaded by years of warfare, they had ventured out for some unknown reason into the Unknown Regions. And found something unknown out there.

I had always been so young and presumptuous, so quick to judge. I would listen in askance about Darth Revan, and assume there must have been some innate corruption in her before she fell, she who had stood as the hero of the galaxy, the shining icon of liberation.

Oh, she fell indeed, but I had never thought to question why. No, I was so blind, always eager to follow the judgements of the Masters, who blamed it on the scars of battle.

And Malak stood, forbidding and gleeful and just as blind, denying any real threat. But whatever it was, I now wondered if it was the catalyst for Revan's actions after Malachor. Malak might be the only soul left who knew, and he did not believe.

Malak's gloved hand landed on my shoulder liked a harbinger of doom, shattering through my thoughts, and I inwardly cringed away from his mental probe. I could sense him, already, searching for any resurgence of my bond-sister. Malak's psychic touch was hardly subtle.

Was it because of him, that I felt her stir? Her shields, so hastily erected, shudder between us? A trickle of fear, of alarm, of something from Revan, and then suddenly Malak was deep within my mind, desperately fumbling for any awareness of her.

No! I cried, but I had the idea that she was not cognizant of me, that her attention was so caught on some other danger that she could not spare the focus on the bond that linked us so intimately.

Malak, eager as a hungry kath pup, pushed hard against her shields, and they shattered into nothingness.

Suddenly, I could see a massive hangar inside a massive starship, filled to the brim with soldiers armed with an array of weapons all pointed at me. Carth, at my side, his face dear to me - to her! – and tight with dread. Juhani, hands held aloft in surrender, before a laser bolt caught her in the side.

The proud Cathar fell.

No! The horror struck me like a physical blow. Revan, you must do something!

I heard the roar of a Wookiee. I saw him, as he held a comatose Mission in his arms, as he collapsed himself.

Fight! Revan, you can get out of this! You must!

I turned, and saw a yellow-skinned Twi'lek male with corrupted eyes standing next to Canderous, pointing a scarlet 'saber at me and shouting something.

I cannot bear it if you are captured again!

I fell to my knees – her knees - our gaze still on the yellow Twi'lek, before it skittered beyond to the edge of the hangar. A railing, high above the mass of troops, held a robed figure. A person in the distance, staring down at me, head uncovered and glossy tendrils of dark hair adorning her shoulders.

I did not have to see her face to know the superior smirk was there. I could sense her presence shining in the Force, as she skirted along the edges of the seething crowd. I could taste her glee, her elation, her pride in conquest.

Kylah.

My gaze blurred, and I fell. Revan fell.

I cannot bear it…

The Force bond blurred into unconsciousness, and I was hurled back into my own body.

A canyon of despair cleaved open in my soul. At its very depths was a bedrock of hate. Kylah, once more, was victorious.

Malak's fingers branded deep into my shoulders. Triumph oozed from him like a sickly syrup of hedonistic exultation. He rode a maleficent wave of victory, tangled with corrupted Force that smothered me in its darkness.

All because of my jealous childhood friend.

"It is over, dear Bastila," Malak murmured. His fingers gripped tight, his will pinched into mine. I have won.

Denial, my only bolster of hope left, rallied its weak, fragile wings.

Revan escaped before. She escaped Bandon's neural disruptor, and that is not meant to be possible-

There was a mechanical thrum of laughter. "It is not possible," he refuted, and the delight in his voice pierced the faint hope I was clutching onto. "But betrayal… now that is something a true Master is always on his guard for. Did you not see who was there, who must have led Revan out of that tin ship of yours?"

A Twi'lek, a Dark Jedi, shouting something at Revan or to her?

"Yudan Rosh," Malak said, and it took a moment for the name to register. A relic of the Jedi Thirteen, who had been sent to Kashyyyk, to capture Revan. Had he infiltrated the Ebon Hawk, and betrayed them?

Oh, I am sure that is what he would like us to believe, Malak answered, his presence still deep within my mind. I was in shock, I knew, and had little control over my thoughts or what he could hear. He spoke, and I could not distinguish between his mechanized voice and his mental touch. "But not even Revan could have removed a neural disruptor without help. No, Yudan has switched his loyalties one too many times. I shall take no chances with him upsetting my plans. Kylah and Nisotsa will take care of him before he has a chance to interfere, and then Revan shall be sent to me."

I could not succumb to this chasm of despair. Revan would not. Somehow, she would rally, she would fight, she would scrabble for any solution-

You are mine, Bastila.

His hand withdrew before returning, this time to cup under my chin and force me to look at him. His sharp yellow eyes had narrowed with pleasure. There will be no Revan to help you escape this time.

My lips were numb. "But, you will send her here, to you, to fight you one last time-"

Malak cocked his head, considering me. "Hope is a dangerous thing, Bastila. Whether you be Jedi or Sith." His words, both spoken and not, reverberated with an echo I could not escape from. It can blind you to reality, tempt you into irrational action. You must know I am not foolish enough to give my old Master a chance to escape or succeed.

The Masters always said hope was a gift.

The thin gold thread was beginning to unravel. Revan was captured. Revan was captured again.

Revan was captured by Kylah.

I must be able to do something, anything!

I could barely convince myself. And I felt that if I breathed too deeply, the very weight of my despair would snap through the last vestige of hope still within me.

"You didn't face her, at Deralia," I croaked. Malak's gloved fingers tightened around my chin, holding me immobile against his superior will. My voice scraped against my suddenly dry throat. "Surely you wish to end things with her as a fair fight. Surely she… surely you both, deserve that."

His pale-and-chrome face blurred in front of me.

"Oh Bastila, you are a unique creature. Did the Order truly believe you could lead Revan meekly around the galaxy like a domesticated bantha?" His voice thrummed with a mild incredulity. "They always underestimated her. Even I did. For, in truth, she has become your Master, hasn't she?"

What? I blinked, damping down the moisture from my eyes. Revan and I were equals-

"She is stronger, quicker, and more adept than you," he murmured, as if sensing my thoughts. Maybe he still was. "And your loyalty to her is absolute. It does your credit, little one. I shall enjoy winning that loyalty for myself."

He wouldn't. I might bow to him, do his bidding, follow his will, but he would not own me. Never!

His face moved closer, a warm puff of air ghosting out over the cool chrome of his lower jaw. "I do not believe in a fair fight, dear Bastila. This is something Revan taught me long ago, before we were Sith, before we were Jedi. When we were nobodies scrabbling to survive on a forgotten world." His eyes held mine tight. "There is no fair. Anything to reach your end goal. The end justifies the means."

"But you are bringing her here?" My lips moved around the words, but I did not know if they actually formed.

"I would enjoy the kill, little one. But I am not so intent on it that I will give her an opportunity for escape." His head cocked to one side. "Did you take me for a monologuing villain, Bastila?" He chuckled. "Enjoy your hope, dear Bastila. Believe that Revan will come here, and I will be foolish enough to grant her an opportunity. The aftermath of your despair will be all the sweeter."

The golden thread thinned further. I found I could not breathe with my face held so in his grasp.

I will have you acknowledge, in the end, that I am your Master.

My eyes closed, and I felt a warm trickle of moisture trail down my face.

It was all pointless in the end. The Republic may have halted the plasma, but Revan was caught by that schutta in the aftermath anyway.

Revan's grave beckoned, and there might not be anything I could do about that. But a true Jedi would stand guard against evil, be it Malak or the Star Forge or whatever Revan had uncovered on the fringes of space.

Yet, there was no place to be a true Jedi, not here. By any means necessary. Revan understood sacrifice, more so than I ever had.

I had to keep true to her. I swore to myself, that I would keep faith in her, even as I felt the final, intangible thread of golden hope finally snap through beneath the weight of despair.

xXx