Hyperspace: V – part four


Revan Freeflight:

Kylah laughed. Long, hard and loud, and it verged on hysteria.

Each sound stabbed a jagged spike of heartache in my chest, each laugh was a mocking sign of the inevitable truth Carth was on the cusp of understanding.

Desperate and determined, my gaze fled to the others, my fingers tightening on the hilt of Karon's weapon as I judged my chances for a sneak attack. But both Nisotsa and Yudan had their attention fixed on me, the former standing motionless with a lit 'saber tight in her grasp, and the latter strolling casually forward, around Nisotsa and Kylah and towards me, like a felinx slowly circling his prey and closing in.

Nisotsa's almost-familiar face creased in anger as she stared me down. Whoever Meetra had been – another member of the damned Jedi Thirteen, but I knew no more - it seemed to dredge up bad memories for the blonde human.

"Oh, to connect the dots like that-" Kylah gasped, her chest racking with taunting laughter "-but then still get it so tragically, laughably wrong-" she broke off again, succumbing once more to her hysteria.

My heart was strangled, and a suffocating helplessness held me rigid with inaction. Not here. Carth can't find out here. Not from Kylah! Carth was frowning when I wrenched myself back to him, his expression deeply confused as he eye-balled the laughing Dark Jedi with a sort of appalled bewilderment.

"There were three women in Revan's Guard," he muttered. "Cariaga Sin died before Malachor. Nisotsa's here. Meetra-" he looked back to me, and I could almost pick out the sparks of different thoughts as they occurred to him, like neurons firing quicksilver through his mind, each trying to manifest some sense out of a situation that made absolutely none. "Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe you weren't on the Guard, then, maybe just one of the other Jedi who fought with them-"

Oh, Carth. What had I done, to deserve such faith?

"She was in the Guard, alright." Nisotsa's voice was raspy where Kylah's was silk. Kylah could be mocked, distracted into gloating, or scared off by a show of strength. Nisotsa- I wasn't so sure of. "You Fleet idolized Revan, didn't you? Named us Revan's Guard. Revan's Guard of Twelve." Nisotsa spat to the side, a glob splattering on the gleaming surface. And I was, still, damnably frozen.

"But the rest of the galaxy knew us as the Jedi Thirteen! And there were four women in the Jedi Thirteen!"

I flinched. Carth's face was uncomprehending, at first. I could spot the instant a flicker of horrified understanding crossed his face. Disbelief chased it away, but it returned.

"Fo-ur," Kylah parroted in a falsetto sing-song. "One, two, three, fo-ur. Don't forget the most notorious one, soldier!"

Oh, it returned.

"No," he whispered, and he stumbled back in reaction."No," he repeated, and I could say nothing in response. "Tell me it's not true!"

My breath stuck like a bubble of sick in my lungs, and I could only stare helplessly at him. The heartache grew turgid and black.

"Bastila… of course, she killed Revan- she saved your life…" Carth's face twisted, a look of contorted abhorrence I'd never seen before. Nothing I don't deserve. I felt the despair as its murky fingers began to encircle my cursed soul.

It was easy to guess his thoughts. His wife, dead. His planet, devastated. His mentor, seduced to treason. And his son, scarred from the crucible of Korriban. Everything that had been destroyed in his life, because of me.

His hatred was recognizable when it dawned. A malevolent hatred directed straight at me. His blaster shook in his hands, and he began to raise it. At me.

The tears were hot as they pricked behind my betraying eyes. My thoughts were chaotic, but my limbs remained frozen. Wildly, I wondered if I'd just stand there, and allow my lover to shoot me dead in front of my old comrades.

I never knew if I would - or even if Carth could follow through - for in that instant there was a snarl from elsewhere, and we were both swept from our feet in an upsurge of Force compression that caught me completely off-guard.

A lifetime of training kicked in. Thumb on off-switch, convert into a roll, a moving mark is harder to target- I was reacting before thinking, before the adrenaline even hit.

The billowing wave of power had us both tumbling backwards, away from each other; but where I landed in a crouch, Carth thudded uncontrolled into the sealed door behind us. Instinct had me hurling up a Force shield around him, but just as I did so a levelled spike of something penetrated straight through my nascent protection.

It was a psychic twitch of the Force, fine and precise and familiar, and it pierced directly into Carth's mind- I'd felt that before-

"Carth!" I cried, desperation propelling me into a leap from the ground. Pure need had me careening to his side. Someone had directed some sort of attack, and Carth was now an unmoving heap-

My maimed hand roughly slapped his unresponsive, unshaven face; shoved hard at his shoulder-

The despair was beginning to choke.

I can't fall apart. I must protect Carth-

"What did you do?" I growled hoarsely, spinning around to face Yudan Rosh. I could sense Carth with the Force, but he was no more than a laggard, inert presence, almost as if he were in a drug-induced coma.

"You really don't recall a damn thing, do you?" Yudan sneered. His eyes were bright slits of resentment. In his shadow, Nisotsa's expression was a mirror. "Stasis, Revan. A hibernative stasis. One of my many talents. I can make him go deeper, you know. Slow his body down to a fraction of its life-speed." His voice dropped. "So deep he'll never wake up."

"Leave him out of this!"

"Ooh, I think she might actually have feelings for the battered soldier," Kylah mocked from behind Yudan. "That'll be an amusing tale to tell our Master. Although, Yudan, I'm a bit surprised you haven't actually killed the Republic grunt." There was a shared glance between the two women standing behind him that I didn't understand. "Why is that?"

Kylah's venomous words were leading, taunting, echoing through the despair that twined around me like a strangling kshyyy vine. A flash of twisted emotion crossed Yudan's face, but he didn't turn to acknowledge Kylah. Oh no, he kept his concentration fixed firmly on me.

"It would be an interesting test," Yudan said. His voice had switched to neutral; no inflection, no apparent emotion at all. "Would the broken, redeemed Revan stay true to the Light, I wonder, if her new lover was slaughtered in front of her eyes?"

The words carved a pitch horror deep within. But my need, driven and potent, was stronger. Find a solution. My thoughts immediately turned to the logistics of the room.

I must get Carth out of here. But I don't know the occupancy of any of the exits. The Force rallied around me like a charged thunderstorm, discerning a few flecks of nearby life that were entirely eclipsed by the Force-signatures of the Dark Jedi surrounding me. If Dustil is on the move, he'll be hunting down his dad. The droids will point him towards the lilac torture room.

Of course, I'd cocked that up by fusing together the locking mechanism, hadn't I?

"Lover?" Kylah trilled. "My, my, this is going to be even more fun than I thought."

"Redeemed?" Nisotsa hissed, further back in the room, the acidic bitterness so palpable on her tone that my attention darted to her. She was frowning at the kneeling Togruta, before turning to direct a hot glare at Yudan's back. "What the frakk, Yudan? She's mind-damaged and brain-washed, not a frakking paragon of atonement. Don't make the wrong choice here."

There was a service-way into the torture room, wasn't there? And if someone was sneaking through an enemy cruiser, then service-ways and utility corridors were the best method of transportation, short of shimmying through the sodding air-con ducts.

I need to re-open the main door, to get Carth back in the room with Juhani and Jolee. And pray to the Force that either they wake up, or Dustil finds them before someone else does.

Yudan didn't turn for Nisotsa, either. His gaze was still on me, and he began to lift his free hand ever so slowly, as if he wanted to survey my reaction. The Force mobilized around his fist, and I had no idea what his next move was – all I knew was that his last words had been a direct threat to Carth.

There was a snap-hiss, and in his other hand a single beam of scarlet sprang to life.

"What's wrong with your double-blade, Yudan?" I gasped, standing in front of Carth. He lay prone as if he were guarding the melded lilac door like a frag mine, a weakness of mine in so many ways. About to explode if he wakes. Or- or I'll explode if they target him.

The Force shone like pinpricks of light through my skin, stinging with panic and fear and a mounting determination to do whatever was needed to get Carth out of this mess I had caused.

Yudan's gaze narrowed, a burning beam of golden topaz, and I felt an influx of power immediately surge beneath his feet. My mangled hand scrabbled for Zhar's lightsaber, and I switched both weapons on as he jumped.

My guard was raised high, a cross-hair of green and cyan, blocking Yudan's offensive strike as he landed. He pulled back, before lashing out sideways in a blow I mirrored with a block. Like a haunting dance of memory, I found myself descending into a remembered form, mind crystallized in a sharp focus purely on the spectre from my past.

He swung to my good side; I parried with both before counter-attacking with the primary. His deflection was fast, and the return blow launched under my guard, compelling me to dodge side-ways as Force burned velocity through my limbs.

He followed, aiming another attack at mid-height that crashed down on both my 'sabers once more. Dull pain echoed through my weakened hand- the shoto was normally my guard, my defense- but the green wasn't a shoto, it was longer than I expected, and my grip debilitated besides-

I pushed back the tingle of unease and thrust out high with Karon's 'saber.

His single blade blurred like a scarlet curtain of humming death, faster than I expected, knocking the cyan blade aside before smashing down on my secondary guard.

Agony recoiled through the marrow of my injured limb, and Zhar's weapon was knocked out of my numb, feeble grasp. The green winked out of existence as it fell with a clatter, nudging into fail-safe mode.

The burn of death at my neck had me frozen. I hadn't even seen the bastard move.

Twin eyes of intense heat glared at me from beyond.

"I can master more than one form, Revan," he whispered, unmoving. My cyan lightsaber was held out-stretched, useless at my side, while his was millimetres from my throat. "This can be useful, in the case of either injury or an unfamiliar lightsaber."

He didn't move. The ends of my unruly hair sizzled as they melted against the red plasma. The scorching calefaction against my skin was quickly becoming unbearable.

Ever so slowly, I inched back in retreat. Yudan was suspended in the act of execution, the only sign of life the glow of indecipherable emotion from his cursed yellow eyes. Another step, Carth's body at my side now, the wall to my back, my injured hand coming to stabilise on the one hilt I still held.

Two hands, one lightsaber. I'd fought like this before. But I found I couldn't make the first offensive move against Yudan, whose loyalties and motivations were still damnably in question. Something had held him back in the Shadowlands, and it was still there. It was still there. I couldn't remember him, but it felt like my heart did, and sod it all- if I could have a second chance, and gift that to everyone I'd encountered along the way- Juhani, Kel, Dak, Dustil, even the others we'd let walk free from Korriban – then why wouldn't I extend that to someone who was only damned in the first place because he'd followed my lead?

Someone who seemed as unable to kill me, as I him?

"Now, pet!"

There was a blur, too fast for my eyes or Force-sense to see. A blank look of shock in Yudan's gaze as he stumbled back from me, looking down to see someone else's lightsaber embedded deep in the side of his torso.

Next to him, the Togruta switched off a lightsaber, and slid back into a kneeling position.

Yudan's 'saber fell from lifeless hands, thudding to the ground and dying. My disbelieving eyes caught on the charred hole in his armour that betrayed a mortal wound. No. No! His gaze returned to mine, sharpening with pain and intense concentration- I felt the Force around him flare inward, felt it twitch precise and deep, before it guttered out and he collapsed.

And Kylah was nearby, weapon in hand as she launched towards Carth.

"No!" I screamed, urgency driving a tsunami of Force that rippled outwards at her-

Revan?

Shock and desperation concussed through any sense of thought or logic, an implosion of rationale as pure emotion crested to an apex.

Revan. I am here!

My bond-sister was sucked into the maelstrom of despair as it crashed over me, lancing deep into my soul. I could feel Bastila submerging her senses with mine, frantically trying to decipher my chaotic thoughts and churning emotions, taking in the battleground of a heavy cruiser's meeting room as Kylah stumbled back like a dust-ball in the wind-

Carth. Oh stars, Yudan. I must save Carth, I must get him out-

And our mingled will combined into an awesome drive of power that could rock the galaxy. Carth. The fused durasteel behind me creaked and splintered free, the doors ripping open beneath our resolve. With a roar, we lifted Carth with nothing more than our need, and unceremoniously threw his prone body back, beyond, behind, deep into the damned lilac room that had once held me prisoner.

Another wrench, and the mangled doors were forced shut.

My chest was racked with heavy breaths; deep and fast and furious.

And there was a second of stillness, there, just as the flood was about to overcome me again. A moment of time, an eternity, the briefest stutter- as if I had a choice to make-

Carth was safe. The look of abhorrence on his face was branded in my mind. But he was safe. He was away.

Whatever I did next, it didn't matter anymore. It didn't matter.

My gaze skittered around the room, and landed on the Togruta, now kneeling in quiet submission next to Yudan's body.

And my emotions ignited into frenzy.

It was rage, bursting into flames, scything through the despair, blackening the Force with hate as it rallied around me in a hurricane of chaos. The Togruta was a muted wound through my senses, a festering sore I'd damnably overlooked-

What is that thing?

I will end this evil!

The Force converged into a vacuum, a channel that coerced life in whichever direction I chose, and I centred it directly on the figure of wrongness that sat so silently next to the corpse of one who may have been an ally.

Revan, this is- this is wrong!

I could feel the energy as I forced it from the body of the damned Togruta, draining from him and into me. There was a natural resistance there, but so weak, and I didn't care anymore- that thing shouldn't be alive!

There was a screaming from my lungs as the deluge of twisted Force hit my bloodstream, a rush of power and victory that chased away any self-doubt I may have had left. I felt the final spark of life in the Togruta die beneath my will, and it was a sweet annihilation, a reminder that my might was superior.

As the Togruta crumpled into a pile of death, I looked beyond to the others.

You should not do that- Bastila was frightened, worried, and drawn deeper into me than ever before, as if she felt her presence would draw me back from the edge. Her concern for me reverberated, a calming hand against the unstoppable – and it was just strong enough to trigger a thought-stream of semi-rationale logic back to the forefront of my consciousness-

-a life drain like that is considered evil for a reason- you felt the taste- you understand that addiction can chain even the strongest-

-and you know that a true Jedi would be unable to twist the Force in such a method of corruption-

-surrendering to unholy fury won't protect Carth if you lose yourself- he is still helpless, even if a door separates you-

-and nothing can bring Yudan back from the dead-

Maybe those thoughts would have been enough for me to step back.

Bastila, shaky and divided, was still holding onto the last vestige of light, a faint flicker casting a fragile glow of tender morality between us both.

And together with my final shards of logic and empathy, it might have been enough.

But then my gaze landed on Kylah. And Bastila noticed.

Kylah. A deathly hiss of acidic enmity. The righteous rage of a betrayed friend dragged through the fires of perdition. And Bastila's emotions dove-tailed like a falling bomb, pitched directly into the vortex of seething hate I was struggling to break free from.

"Redeemed," Nisotsa spat. She stood ready, lightsaber held close, gaze glittering with anger and grief and a lifetime of resentment I could taste on the Force. "Yudan was always idiotic about you. Here you stand, a broken husk of what you once were, but still just as corrupted as ever."

Now, pet! The order had come from her, not Kylah. Nisotsa had directed it, commanded the death of someone who had been a friend to both her and me-

And our mingled hate grew.

"Together," Kylah murmured, stepping to Nisotsa's side. "We take her out together. She will not triumph against the two of us."

Kill her. I am here, Revan. Let us put an end to that schutta, now!

Nisotsa, I breathed, my gaze fixed on the older woman. Bastila's will buffeted against mine, a roiling presence of acrimony that was a mirror, but she wanted the focus on Kylah-

Nisotsa's the bigger threat, I snarled in the torrid recesses of our shared psyche.

Then take the weaker link out first!

There was sense, there, beneath my bond-sister's black desire. And as we gathered up the tendrils of our combined power, and I knew how best to accomplish this- I might not recall my past, but I'd done this on Rii'shn and Manaan-

Fan the hate. Excite the fury. Encourage the pain.

There is only passion.

And the Force shook within. And I fell. We fell.

The power exploded, a billion shards piercing out through my skin, the high of pure dark Force as it peaked my senses, sharper than a spice-induced high, stronger than the whole of the galaxy-

-strong enough to do whatever we want-

And this time, I had Bastila with me. Her power surged through the bond, driving us higher, darker, stronger than ever.

The crackling obsidian aura of a Force-induced berserking rage sprang to existence around me.

The older woman's eyes had widened in recognition. Names weren't important anymore. There was only one to keep in my head. Bastila.

Revan, she echoed, and her hatred turned my gaze to the younger sentient. She will feel pain. The pain I have suffered!

Our two adversaries ran forward in tandem, then, but their speed was no match for ours.

We launched sideways, flying across the room and over a table, the Force bending to our command. Poison streamed from my fingertips like a murky ripple of death, and we beheld furious satisfaction as it hit them both.

They weren't deterred, merely changing their course like a pair of kath hounds hunting down a predator they did not yet understand was about to eviscerate them.

The room was high, and it was a feral joy to leap into the air, to fuel our combined might under my body, to drop one hand beneath and release a shaft of lightning as we crossed.

One staggered and the other retaliated with a mental skewer that ripped through my unshielded mind.

My rage bellowed inside my head.

Our might is greater! Bastila was beginning to understand. And we deflected the psychic attack with no more than a nudge.

We had the wall to my back, now. Fury still owned us, and we lifted my lightsaber high.

But the weapon felt wrong somehow- I could still use it- but there was an unstable edge to its vibration that clashed against the resonance of the howling Force.

Replace it with something better. I felt Bastila's innate approval, and we reached out with the might of our anger, coiling it tight around our closest enemy, the younger one, and we hurled our capricious lightsaber directly at her.

Even held prone in our Force grip, she managed to deflect it with her grasped weapon. The cyan 'saber was knocked to the side, sputtered out, and didn't return.

No matter. We heaved hard on the Force, rage and enmity threading together and augmenting our pull, and her weapon slipped from her grasp before thudding home into mine.

Two steps forward - the woman still held tight by our frenzied will - and we aimed low, gouging straight through her scrabbling legs.

Her screams were sweet, and we were not ready for her to die just yet.

See how the schutta likes that!

A lunge of scarlet from the side; we'd missed the other one coming close, and as we ducked something scored against my shoulder. Bastila's concern flared, but it was just a flesh wound, and nothing could beat our celerity and might as I spun around to knock a thrusting 'saber back with my own. The woman's guard was open for a fraction of time, but it was enough. My maimed hand dropped from the hilt, and whistled forward in a furious jab deep into her soft, fleshy oesophagus.

The woman choked, staggering back, and we felt my mouth curve in a cold smile as we glanced back to the other, lying lame on the ground.

Shards of jagged lightning crackled from her hand, raised in our direction.

She is not the master of that here! And we both thrust out with the Force. I led, and Bastila added might. It was a wave of annihilation, a nullifying field of death that attacked every molecule in front of us, killing the lightning as it fizzled on her outstretched hands.

We stopped the ripple of nothingness just as it touched the woman. Just enough for her to sense it, for it to shrivel the tips of her fingers white, for the sick realization to widen her slanted yellow eyes.

And Bastila's awe and comprehension at the depths of our combined power oscillated through our minds.

For me, it was merely the homecoming of the damned.

Enough. A flicker of uncertainty, of unease, drifting through our bond. I want her dead, Revan. Dead, now, while we still have the power!

As you wish. And the lightning cascaded from the remaining fingertips of my crippled hand. It was only fair to return the favour, after all, show the schutta how it was really done.

Bright shards of death, and there was no escape for someone who deserved none.

I paused, before the end.

"Bastila is with me," I whispered. "Our bond is stronger than ever. She is seeing through my eyes, and your cries are sweet."

Her out-lined eyes widened in outraged denial. And Bastila moved closer to enjoy it.

"This is for Galdea. For the Endar Spire!" Bastila cried, through my lips. "This is for me!"

There was someone else, too. Someone important, to me and not Bastila, someone whose death the schutta had been responsible for. But maybe, at the pinnacle of this colossal power, names and individuals no longer meant anything.

There was only the Dark Side.

The achromatic discharge intensified. It flared out from my hand, in a white-blue cocoon of death around the writhing woman, charring flesh where it entered and exited the body. The other target had recovered- was lurching forward in attack again- so we dropped the 'saber from my other hand, let it crash to the floor, and raised my second palm to target her in unison.

Crackling annihilation erupted from both hands, and our two adversaries faltered.

We felt their spirits diminish beneath the electrocution, their bodies surrender and their life-sparks dim to near nothing-

Done.

We called the schutta's lightsaber back, stepped forward, and ground it through her smoking chest.

Bastila's sense of triumph was intoxicating, even as fear fluttered around its edges.

The power we can wield. It's unfathomable-

This state doesn't last long. It burns through a body-

Kylah deserved to die. Bastila's fear warped into alarm as the rush of victory faded. Perhaps- perhaps not this way. Perhaps-

A death is a death.

I enjoyed it. She was… appalled, now. That is… I should not have enjoyed it. She deserved to die, but- A scrabbling, a way to make sense of it all. I could have told her there was no sense, anywhere in the galaxy. She deserved to suffer. She… but I should not have encouraged you to cause her pain. And I should not have enjoyed it. A deep, shaking sigh. If we had more power, Revan, we could control it instead of succumbing to our base desires. I felt like we were there, we almost had enough, we almost mastered everything-

Somehow, all I thought was that more power would make the darkness even darker.

I must go. Her apprehension crested once more, and I didn't know if it was due to what had happened here, or where she was currently captured. All I knew was that together, no one could withstand us, and there was little separation between her desire and mine, now. I must go before I draw Malak's attention. We shall sort this out, Revan. We shall… just come for me, and we will find a way forward.

I will come for you, I vowed. How could I not? There were times, there, when we had felt like one. Her fierce longing to be free was mine, her despair at her helplessness also; just as my blistering rage was hers, and the ancient bedrock of grief that lay beneath everything.

You must go. You must shield yourself. He will learn what happened here, but I will conceal what I can.

Tell Malak I have killed them. All his allies, all his underlings, I stand on his sinking starship surrounded by their corpses.

I will come for you, and I will come for him.

With a sharp yank on the Force, I slammed down the shields between me and Bastila, and once more was submerged in her lack of presence.

There was one still gasping in shuddering breaths, audible throughout the room. The Force bent to my will, bowed to the fury of my hatred and the yawning chasm of my grief. I dragged the older woman upwards with an invisible rope of taut energy.

I no longer knew why I was so angry with her, but still, the emotion was satisfying.

She gasped in my chokehold.

"Redeemed… what a joke," she rasped. "Kill me then, Revan. Like you killed everyone else. Talvon, Arran, Neiza… and Malak. You'll kill him, too. The man you once loved. What a frakking joke."

Her suggestion was sound. And my objectives went beyond her death, now. I had to leave, to find my bond-sister.

The fury retreated, and my mind went cold.

I squeezed, hard and brutal, holding it until the woman died in my Force grasp.

I dropped her to the ground.

The arctic influx of power owned me. There was nothing to feel, here; just a clinical matrix of opportunities and objectives. Bastila was important. Both a vulnerability and a strength. The Star Forge would be re-taken. Malak would be eliminated.

The purpose- the end-game- infinite control. With Bastila at my side, we could fix anything, remake anything, better- stronger- to our design-

And the desolation at the foundation of it all could be forgotten.

I would be the master. The weak die, and the strong survive. That was the only purpose.

There is something. Something else. A reason…

It felt like a glitch, a hiccup in the arboreal thoughts that flowed like ice.

The Light isn't strong enough for what I must do. I don't know if this will work- it's time to roll the dice-

It was a fragment from the past, a slippery thought from before the veil of broken memory.

I frowned. Roll the dice? I didn't need to gamble. Whatever purpose had me stepping first along this path, the ownership of the Dark Side was now paramount.

The Dark Side is the true owner. No one can control the Dark Side. Not even one with the best of intentions. Not even Revan Freeflight.

I felt my fist clench in mild irritation. Looking down, I beheld inky shadows wisping around my fist, a mini-vortex of energy. My head cocked in mild interest. That's familiar.

And, beyond, my gaze slipped to the dead flesh that was resting at my feet. Something had my gaze lingering. Maybe a remembered grasp of humanity that had all but burned away?

Maybe nothing more than idle curiosity?

The woman's face was slack in anguished death, dusky lines of charred flesh tracing along the sides of her neck and mingling in with the fading Sith markings. There was red bruising around her neck from my cord of invisible death.

She'd been beautiful, once.

I pushed out with a faint coil of Force, brushing closed her eyelids. It made it easier to recall the colour of her gaze. Memory was such a useless, emotive noose that one had to shrug off to move forward.

"They have something, I'm sure of it," Nisotsa whispered, eyes shining like a silver beacon of fierce intelligence. "You've seen the surveillance footage. They took out Knights Tarra and Du'khan like they were Force-blind. The Fett must have some way of counter-acting the Force."

She'd been smart, I recalled absently. Quick to grasp connections.

"They'll break through to the Core," she murmured, leaning tiredly against a large crate full of armour segments and bot-parts. "That's always been their goal, but it will happen soon. Victory and pride keep the Clans strong. And if you look at the trade routes they've been targeting, you'll put your credits on Duro as their first mark."

Her loyalty had been worth something, all the more because of her innate caution.

"I'll follow you," Nisotsa rasped. Behind her, out of earshot, Arran Da'klor was making eyes at her younger cousin. "You're right, I believe we must take action. But I ask only this: leave Neiza out of it. She's… she's too soft for this. Leave her behind on Coruscant. She's barely more than a Padawan, and even younger than you."

There was something pressing hard against my temples. The corpse in front of me blurred, shook-

"I'm sorry," Nisotsa said. "Cariaga… you did everything you could to save Cariaga. Don't blame yourself, Revan. Please."

The canyon of grief grew. A tearing, a sharp pain in my head, I didn't know her- not really – but the emotions were still there- along with jagged shreds of memory-

"Really, Revan?" she mocked gently. "Em and Yudan? You've got to be out of your frakking mind."

My gaze slid to the burnished-gold body metres behind me, across the other side of the room. The desolation turned black with soul-wrenching despair. I didn't recall him, either, but I knew I should, and now they were dead, they were all dead, and how many had died because they'd followed me-

"Talvon," I whispered, a shiv-blade tight in my fist. He turned, and I knew the glint in his eyes. Madness. His mouth stretched in a mockery of a grin.

"Master!" he called gleefully. "You don't mind me calling you that, do you, Revvie? It seems appropriate, these days."

My lungs were burning as I refused them oxygen. The charcoal flames around my fingertips grew, the bitter self-hatred-

"Neiza!" Arran yelled, his voice twisting in emotion.

"Oh dear," I said softly as the woman suffocated. "Don't tell me you actually care for the girl, Arran?" She had risen into the air, legs twitching spasmodically as her hands scrabbled at her throat. "Lucky for you I am feeling generous. Beg on your knees for forgiveness, and I may yet let her live."

Neiza- that was Nisotsa's cousin-

"I curse the day I ever joined your crusade," Arran hissed. A bubble of bloody spit dribbled from the corner of his mouth. "But you're right, we were loyal once. And you burned that out of us, burned it out of us all."

They died. They all died.

And I was drowning in the desolation.

I could stay here. Bleak and dead and damned as the rest of them. The ship would falter, sooner or later, and I could break with it. Fall, finally, into the abyss.

And drag Bastila down with me. She will not survive my death. But I cannot survive this. Justice demands I do not. And Bastila's death is better, better than my evil that now echoes within her. Better than her turning into Malak's weapon.

Malak. I didn't know him. But the death of Nisotsa- the death of Yudan- it was too much. Too much. Dark or Light, I wouldn't be able to take out the man I'd once, by all accounts, loved as fiercely as the stars.

But I could take myself out, before I returned to what I was. Again. Before I led my bond-sister down the same corrupted path I'd led so many others.

I bowed my head to the despair, and was submerged.

xXx

There were noises nearby. They didn't touch me. I'd been ignoring the sirens for eons, now.

The sear of something hot scorching through metal.

My hand was on Nisotsa's dead face. My gaze on Yudan's body, some distance away.

"Someone frakking help me with Dad!"

My fault. My crime. My villainy, leading them all through a life worse than death until their final resting place here on this doomed starship.

A resounding thump of metal slamming onto the ground.

My eyes were dry, now, as if no tears could help. Yudan deserved more. Nisotsa- she'd never seen her own strengths. She'd never believed in herself.

A howl, followed by a young voice. "Whoa! Jen- what's all that black stuff- Jen, are you okay?"

Had she? I didn't know Nisotsa. Large holes of nothing in my mind, where the past had been incinerated, and all I was left with were emotions with no grounding in memory. I'd cared for Nisotsa. Yudan was deeply important to me. He shouldn't be dead-

"Jen!" a feline voice gasped. "Jen, are you alri-"

If I couldn't handle their deaths-

"Stand back!" An old voice, husked with age or emotion or both. "All of you, get back, now!"

"Do not come near," I whispered, but I knew my voice echoed on the Force, a vibrating command. "I will be alone. I will it."

"Juhani, you must take the others back to the ship. Do it now, child!"

"I shall not fail her, Jolee Bindo, like she has not failed me!"

The flames of shadow licked out around me. They were the touch of death, I knew. Like a black hole of life and I was the nexus.

"I have seen this before, child. I can deal with it… this time, I can deal with it. You must guide the others out! The Mandalorian is dead on his feet, the soldier is out cold, and the Wookiee is carrying them both. Those two kids need someone to lead them, and this darn cruiser is losing the battle. Get your people out, Juhani!"

"Leave me," I breathed, a final warning.

"I'll follow if I can. I'll find your trail, and follow with her if it's at all within my power. But don't sacrifice any of the others! Go, Juhani!"

I couldn't pull my hand away from Nisotsa. I couldn't wrench my gaze from Yudan. He was facing away, strewn on the other side of the room. I saw the charred slice through his armour where the lightsaber had entered, in the side of his gut. He would've died within seconds- minutes maybe. It surprised me that there wasn't a pool of blood underneath him. Even with cauterization, a wound that deep should've bled out.

Such fragile flesh. In the end, we were all mortal.

Even me.

The others had departed, apart from one spark of life I didn't know so well. Less attachment, less danger, less grief. Non-threatening. He didn't step any closer, merely stayed on the periphery of the room.

"So, your game here is to go down with the ship. Huh. Doesn't sound very smart, young pup."

"Failure," I whispered, blinking. I could feel my fingertips clench. I frowned. "Why are you here, old man? It is not mere words when I say I am the bringer of death."

"Bah." It was a dismissive sound. A ludicrous response to the likes of me, but still, it was different enough that the edge of my attention caught. "I'm no threat, just a harmless old man you don't even know. But the others… Now, they've got claims on you. You really want to inflict your death on them?"

Inflict my death… it's my survival that's the real affliction.

"It's safer for everyone, old man." I didn't even speak the words. My mouth shaped them, air came out… and somehow the Force whispered them around the room.

The glacier of grief settled beneath me.

"The true failure is giving up, and giving in to despair."

On another day, I might have laughed at that. "The true failure is destroying the galaxy after murdering your friends. Giving up is a triumph in comparison."

"Humph." It was a sound of discontent. "Not sure I like it when you counter my arguments." He was still some distance away, hovering along the edges of the room. Desolation licked around me in a manifestation of circling anti-light. I wondered absently how close it was to him.

"You should go." Go, now, before you remind me of those I wish to forget about.

I sensed the man take one step into the room. One small step only, and then pause. "By all accounts, this Malak will take over the galaxy if he's not stopped. Are you prepared to sit back from that?"

My eyes closed. I couldn't bear to look at the room anymore. The rancid stench of charred skin and melted hair stung my nose. My senses, slowly returning. "Each time I stumble, old man. Each time I fall. And it's pitch-dark and the return becomes impossible." Warm air ghosted over my dry lips. "And if I triumph over Malak and then fall, I won't return. I could go back to what I once was. Worse than what I once was. For this time, Bastila is Force-bonded to me." This time our pool of power might be even greater. This time I really will rock the galaxy.

"And if you don't face him? What happens then?" He took another step. "Then Malak destroys the galaxy in your stead?"

"There's- others-" I couldn't finish that. I knew little of Republic troops and Jedi Masters. I knew more, once. I was so involved. My thoughts were polar glaciers that churned only when the fury awoke. The fury was asleep, now.

But the echo of earlier logic still whispered, a faint wind breathing over the hardened snow.

They have the coordinates. They will launch an attack. But against Malak, master of the Star Forge, how far would they get?

Especially if he has Bastila harnessed at his side? I can't help her yet, and I daren't drop the shields with her prisoner. She's failing, she's falling, and he'll take advantage-

"Huh. And do they have a chance?"

No. No, they don't.

Malak's a fool if he lets anyone close to the Star Forge. The remainder of his armada will be there. And his armada is vast. They'd repel any offence that came close. I didn't recall the Forge, but it surely had protections, defences- it seemed like the only way to get onboard would be either sneaking in, or tricking Malak somehow.

Tricking… and the only sentient he might act irrationally over is me. That was true, if there was a way to work that to my advantage. Despite myself, despite the penumbra of despair that had iced everything, the cogs of my mind were slowly creaking back into action.

I didn't want them to. For it meant I'd have to experience the anguish and self-recriminations that were sure to follow. But the thoughts still persisted, fragile and weak as they were.

There's another line of attack. I have an inside line to the Forge that no one else does. When the time is right, I can drop my psychic block and reach out to Bastila for aid. Our bond is an advantage that rests solely with my survival.

When compared with my links to Malak and Bastila, did anyone else have a chance?

"No," I whispered.

He harrumphed. "So, again, I ask: are you really prepared to give up?"

The chasm of grief was shuddering. I didn't want it to break, to flood with emotion, to force me to open my eyes in the bloodied room that held the corpses of those I had once loved-

That I couldn't even remember. And the lack of recollection was simply another offence in my long list of crimes.

"I kill those who follow me, old man. Even now, once more, I couldn't hold back the tide of darkness. I can't master this… I think I thought I could, once, that I could own the Dark Side." But all that happens is me destroying everything I ever cared for. The Republic. My friends. Myself.

"Well. Young people are idiots. Young people with the Force even more so." A gusty sigh. "You've done some pretty heavy things, I won't argue with that. But today… I don't think you can kick yourself too badly over this one. I heard enough to guess you only figured out the truth in the Shadowlands, just as I came across you. So this is the first time you've been truly tested since then, ain't it?"

I blinked. I didn't deserve any form of understanding, nor did I desire it. "I faced Bandon without slipping," I mumbled. The Force shook, cracks widening in the ice. "Mission was there." A focus. A friend. A weakness and a strength. "I chucked Carth out of this room, because I had to protect him. I didn't think I could bear his death. But Yudan was killed-"

I couldn't finish that.

"Ah, attachment," he murmured, taking a third step. "That's a double-edged sword, that one. The Jedi fear it for its inherent dangers, and the Sith deny it for its empathy. It can drag you down evil paths, and shine light into the darkest corner. I'm not sure the Order would approve, but sometimes they struggle with finding their own arses, that lot. For what, truly, is a life without attachment?"

"It brought me away from the edge on Korriban." Golden threads anchoring me to my new friends. "But… I had that before. It wasn't enough then, to stop me embracing the Dark." The Jedi Thirteen. The Fleet. More, so many more. I had more support and love and attachment back then than now, and I fell anyway. "I turned on those who swore themselves to me. Two of them lie dead in this very room."

"Well, young pup, I can't say why you did what you did, and I don't think you know, either. But if you know who you are right now, and the path you need to follow, then you can take the first step forward."

"I know I'm dangerous."

He snorted. "Seems to me, you're the most dangerous when you go running off by yourself. So, friendly tip: don't." He moved closer. I could sense him behind me, now.

"I killed Nisotsa," I mumbled. "She… she promised her life for my cause. I have- flashes- of others- others I killed- they turned on me, or me on them- I don't want to remember anymore of this, it hurts-"

My eyes squeezed tight. My shoulders shook. I tried to hold onto the frigid numbness.

The old man harrumphed again. "Ah, what you need is a good cry. But this actually ain't the time. We have to get back to that freighter of yours, and get you around those who care for you. Mission. Juhani. The Wookiee. The Mandalorian. The soldier."

Each name caused my breath to hitch further. The last was the worst. Carth.

"They need you. And you need them. A fall to the Dark Side doesn't just happen in a single moment, you know. And a true redemption… ach, well, I suspect that's a lifetime of struggle. It ain't easy, but then the most important things never are. You don't just wake up one day, decide to turn your life around, and have it happen magically overnight."

"The Dark Side… it always seems more powerful." I had needed that power, or had I just desired it? I didn't know. I didn't know who I had once been, and I didn't want to. "Beguiling. Easier."

"Humph. The last two, maybe. It's certainly a quicker route to strength. But more powerful? That I'm not so certain of. And in the end, is power what's truly important? You'll have to decide that for yourself. Think on your friends when you do." His hand pressed softly into my shoulder. "There may come a time when you have to make a final choice, when there's no turning back, and it's your friends who will help you with that choice. But it ain't today, young pup. It ain't today." He sighed. "So get up, dust yourself off, let's figure out what to do with that one, and then we'll head back to your ship before we really are blown into spacedust."

I was standing without realizing, as if the will of that cantankerous old man was enough to grasp the giant weight of my despair and shake it into order. March, kid! Off to your dorm! Get your schoolwork done, and then you can play! I forced the half-crazed hilarity down, and slowly opened my eyes.

I was going to break, soon. I could feel it approaching, like the angry clouds of a summer storm. Hot and sharp and a painful awareness of emotion I'd shied away from. But I would survive it. I had no choice. I had to clean up my mess, to stop Malak, and to save Bastila- she who had rescued me, once.

I had already survived so much. But I had to survive this too, hollow and exhausted, yet ready to do what I must.

Old man Bindo is right. It was so hard, so intensely hard to make the turn around. The Force sucked into me and blinkered out, and I knew the shaking of my body was simply an emotional response that hadn't quite hit yet. Only I can take care of Malak… which means I must keep going. And find a way where - this - doesn't happen again. The conviction was there, but it was battered and crippled and hard to revive. I couldn't even look at the corpses surrounding me, but I knew Jolee was gesturing at one.

"Well?" Jolee demanded. He sounded impatient. "This is a choice you have to make. I ain't making this one for you. He's well corrupted, I can sense it. It's a very real risk to bring him onboard, and it's one you have to bear the culpability for."

"What?" I blinked, confused. I didn't know how I was still standing. And the old man was talking in code. He was still pointing at Yudan's body. "What are you talking about?"

Jolee paused, his eyes meeting mine. There was a slight frown wrinkling the lines on his dark-skinned forehead, a considering look in his gaze. He huffed. "Push your senses out. Don't assume the worst until you've double-checked matters. That one ain't dead."

That one ain't dead.

Everything shook around me in disbelief.

The old man stepped closer to the body. "He's in a deep form of stasis, a physical hibernation," Jolee mused. The Force flared out from him, gentle fingers of exploration melding into the body on the ground. "Eh, I can see why. That's a mortal wound, right there. It goes straight through a kidney, the liver, and it's ruptured his pancreas- he'd live minutes, at most, if he weren't in a static hibernation. It slows everything down to a fraction of what it was, you see. But even so, his life's slipping away." Jolee turned back to face me. "If only you had someone nearby who was a master medic."

He was wearing a self-satisfied smirk, waggling his eyebrows in a comic display that was completely out-of-place in this charred room of death.

Yudan… Yudan's not dead. Everything blurred again. There was a sharp pain in my chest, and I had no idea if it was relief or unease or just deep confusion.

And my mind, the slow lumbering beast bowed deep beneath the weight of despair, began a burdened trek back to normalcy, or at least a masked veneer of it.

And I gradually cobbled together a facade of my earlier self. It was the only way to keep going. Fall into the action of leadership, once more formulate a way forward, and hope it would become a stronger reality than the despair I couldn't shake off.

I took a deep breath, and focussed on the body lying in front of Jolee Bindo.

It would be idiotic to resurrect a man who has already betrayed me. I'd let him walk away from me in the Shadowlands – although, to be fair, one could argue he'd let me live – and he'd returned only to betray our plans to the Sith. If it hadn't been for Dustil's chance appearance, we would have had nothing to go on.

The despair was still there, but it began to recede. Somehow, I knew it would never fade entirely.

Nothing to go on- no, that's kath crap. I escaped entirely due to Yudan's aid. And, once again, Yudan has shown his inability to kill me.

But he'd been on the cusp of killing Carth, earlier, and for what? To see if I'd fall once more to the cursed Dark?

Turns out he didn't have to. I fell anyway.

"We ain't got time for lengthy meditations," Jolee prompted. "Sirens have been wailing for awhile, now. You got to make a decision, and quick."

"Can you… can you revive him enough so he can make his own way out?" I whispered through dry lips. Let him slip away, so one day he can return when I least expect it and screw everything up again.

Jolee was shaking his head. "That's a deep injury. I can stabilize him enough to move him onboard, tie off the bleeding and the damaged organs - but he's going to need more than that from me." I felt Jolee's hand lightly rest atop my bowed shoulder once more. It bore the heavy weight of responsibility with it, the charge a true leader could not shy away from. "He's either coming onboard with us, or dying with the ship."

I couldn't let Yudan amongst my crew. What was I going to do, offer him a place on the frelling 'Hawk, and tell him to play nice or he wouldn't get any good-behaviour stickers? For the safety of those I cared about, I simply couldn't take another risk on Yudan Rosh.

"Heal him." My voice cracked, and the disbelief at my own words coursed through me like unforgiving fire. He was nothing to me, a shade from my past, and yet I still felt the emotional connection to someone who had once been a friend.

And the guilt, for where I had led him.

Sun and stars, if I'm not ruthless enough to kill Yudan Rosh, how the frell do I expect to take on Malak?

I felt my teeth grit as Jolee crouched down next to the prone Twi'lek. I raised one hand, and a lightsaber from somewhere flew to it. As I thumbed it on, there was both sharp relief and surprise as bright cyan illuminated the room instead of red.

"You are not going to make me revive him, just so you can kill him, young pup," Jolee grouched, his brows slamming down in disapproval. "That's not only rude, it's bordering on sadistic."

"I'll do what I have to, Jolee. Now, heal him." My words were hard and implacable. I saw the resistance in the old man's expression, and a sepulchral shadow in my mind murmured that I could make him bend to my will, whether he liked it or not.

Not like this. Not again. Not, ever, like this.

I felt a shudder ripple through my face. "Please," I whispered to Jolee. "I don't know how much of a threat he is to those I care about. I have to speak to him before I decide. Please, Jolee. Help me."

The disapproval in Jolee's face was chased away by grudging acceptance, and he nodded, before pulling in the threads of the Force and getting to work. It was an intricate business – not quite as fine as manipulating the electrical oscillations that came so naturally to me, but there was a certain finesse, a certain patience required, allowing physical flesh and blood vessels to meld before progressing. A natural instinct, knowing when to steamroll forward with the healing power of the Force, and when to retreat and allow flesh to mend on its own.

I could sense what Jolee was doing, enough so I doubted I would ever be able to replicate the like.

Jolee pulled back several minutes later. "That should be enough to move him. I'd rather not wake him from the stasis, as it risks undoing what I've done - but I guess you're going to insist on that, huh?"

"Wake him," I whispered. I raised my lightsaber, so it cut into my vision like a blazing bar of light blue fire.

Jolee grumbled something, and once more I felt the Force swell beneath his command, this time as an energizing wave that encouraged the body to consciousness. Chemicals within the bloodstream stirred – I had the vague remembrance of a theoretical lecture on the dangers of activating cortisol and adrenaline – and then Yudan's eyelids flickered.

I stepped closer, inching the 'saber forward so it was mere centimetres from his heart.

I saw the moment he became aware of pain. Lines creased and deepened around his face, and his yellow eyes shot open before stilling on the beam of plasma directly above his chest.

His expression immediately shuttered. I couldn't help but feel the slightest sense of admiration for how quickly the cursed man could conceal his thoughts.

"You betrayed me," I said curtly, nudging Karon's lightsaber closer. I wanted a damn reaction I could read, but his entire body was frozen. "I should leave you here, to die along with everyone else onboard."

His eyes narrowed slightly. "I betrayed you? Did I, Revan?"

I felt a grimace twist my lips. "Maybe you slipped me a token of escape, Yudan, but not before selling my crew out," I said. "The very man you snitched on, is the one who just saved your life."

Yudan's gaze darted to the side, landing briefly on Jolee, before coming back to rest on me. I could decipher a pissy sort of anger in his expression, now, and it was obvious he was in some amount of pain- but other than that, nothing. No remorse or regret, no satisfaction, no lead to help me decide what manner of person he truly was.

"You told me to play the part of a Dark Jedi, the one who'd overwhelmed the lot of you," he growled. A small gust of irritated air left his lungs. "And exactly what do you think would have happened, had Kylah or Nisotsa come across your harmless old trader, without me declaring his Force sensitivity?"

I blinked, and the cyan 'saber wavered in my grasp. In the docking bay, an elevated walkway high at the back, I saw her-

"For Kylah was in the docking bay, Revan," he said, wedging an arm underneath his torso, and beginning to struggle upright. I moved the lightsaber back in reaction. "My cover would have been immediately blown."

"Lie down," Jolee snapped. "You ain't moving anywhere under your own power."

"And as for Ordo," Yudan continued, still heaving himself up into a sitting position despite Jolee's protests. "Well, I've come to respect the man. But we've known your crew manifest for some time, and his background is well understood. As is the penchant for Mandalorian clan leaders to admire you. I didn't think it a plausible story that Canderous Ordo would turn on you for credits after following you since Taris."

Yudan was canted to the side, leaning heavily on one arm, his body shuddering under the movement. He waited, chest heaving, gaze never leaving mine. Awaiting my judgment.

I was well aware of how hypocritical that was.

"Would you have killed Carth?" I whispered.

The slightest sound left his lips; a wearied, beaten form of a chuckle. "Your soldier? I don't know, Revan. I honestly don't know."

I felt the truth of those words sing on the Force.

"Did you have any plan at all, Yudan?" I snapped, suddenly furious at my inability to come to a decision. How could I trust him? How could I even entertain the idea of leading him back to the Ebon Hawk, when it sounded like he had no frelling idea whose side he was on? "If Nisotsa hadn't turned on you first, which sodding side were you going to pick?"

The yellow gleam of his gaze sharpened in returned anger. I wondered what colour they once were. I should know. All those little details, all those forgotten memories… it was no wonder he faced me with such bitterness. I'd led him, Nisotsa, and others I had no faces nor names to put against, down the path of evil.

And now I stood, with allies and freedom and barely any recollection of my past misdeeds.

And a lifetime of despair to wade through.

The corners of his mouth turned down in an uneven grimace. "All I can really tell you is that I would have struck out against Darth Revan. But she wasn't there. And I… I don't really know anything, anymore."

His eyes dropped closed, and his elbow buckled underneath him. With an involuntarily grunt, Yudan collapsed back to the durasteel ground of the bloodied room.

"He's fainted," Jolee muttered, kneeling back beside him. "Probably for the best. Heh. For more than one reason, I'd say."

I would have struck out against Darth Revan. But she wasn't there.

Oh, sithspit. The burn of remembered hatred, black and turgid and blazing over an ocean of infinite grief, rose within me once more.

My shoulders slumped. Should Yudan ever discover exactly how I'd killed Nisotsa, then he would strike out at me. Was this, maybe, the reason I should leave him behind?

Or… maybe it's the reason I need to take him with us. Maybe, what I really need, is a watcher who will stop me, by any means necessary, should I fall again.

It was quite possible I might already have that in Carth. It was quite possible that Carth wasn't going to wait until he saw a sign. I felt the clench of heartache once more, the bitter longing for what might-have-been. I'd known since the Shadowlands how this revelation would play out, but it didn't make it one iota easier.

The ground underneath me shook abruptly, and I found myself stumbling. The halogen lighting fizzled before cutting out, and what sounded like another three warning klaxons joined in the merry band of sirens that had been screeching for some time.

:: All personnel to evacuate immediately.:: a young female voice slurred over the starship's intercom. ::Hull shield generators are down. Repeat: all hull shield generators are down, and we have been unable to negotiate terms of surrender. We are still taking enemy fire. I say again: all personnel to evacuate immediately.::

The darkness was perforated by the same red-and-orange emergency strip lighting as in the interrogation cells, which must have been on a separate circuit. Deep on the Force, I could sense the groans of unyielding metal being forced apart hundreds of metres away, reverberating all along the length of the cruiser.

"You're out of time, pup," Jolee said, an unspoken order in his voice. I wondered, idly, if he was deliberately avoiding my name. There was no way Jolee could have missed it, but he'd been remarkably facile in not showing any reaction at all.

My gaze was still fixed on Yudan, whose chest was slowly rising and falling in the depths of unconsciousness now, rather than any forced state of deep hibernation.

It was going to be a damnably awkward conversation, explaining his presence on the 'Hawk.

"We're taking him," I said grimly, turning to look at Jolee.

Hah. Explaining Yudan Rosh will be a doddle. It would be, I realized, my mind resting on Carth again with a renewed pang of dejection.

Because that conversation that was going to be a frell of a lot worse.

xXx

Author's Note:

Thanks, kosiah, for the read-through :-)