Chapter Note: This chapter overlaps with the previous.


The greater good

- Bastila Shan -


I stared at the console screen.

It shall not be long, now. Patience. Patience is a facet of self-control. My fingers tapped against the sleek silver of the shiny console; the tapping noise both discordant and overly loud in the empty control room.

Patience is the companion of wisdom. I recalled my father murmuring that once, in the middle of an exposition regaling a rogue hulak wraid and a foiled scent trap.

Patience is an art of discipline, a mechanized voice thrummed in my head. But you must know when to employ it, little one, and when restraint becomes nothing more than inaction.

I shuddered. Malak.

...

"Emotions fuel our strength, little one," Malak murmured. I was some metres back, lightsaber held in a shaky grasp, perspiration matting my hair to my neck. No matter how I persevered, I could not break through his guard. But if I did not try to his satisfaction... Malak became displeased. "Your rage, your lust for vengeance... all of it can augment your power. If you have the calculation to use it wisely."

With a burst of Force I charged, changing direction at the final moment before lowering one end of my scarlet double-blade in a sideways swipe.

Malak chortled, somehow standing at ease metres away, while I lunged impotently through empty air.

I had not even seen him move.

I had tried, for a time, to remain semi-passive during what Malak liked to term our advancement spars. Malak always defeated me, but he was more... gratuitous about it when my effort was not to his satisfaction. And I had seen enough of the impersonal medics on the Star Forge.

I had felt enough of pain.

The heat of my own chaotic emotions was far preferable... and it soothed the hollow fear in my soul.

"Sometimes you must remain patient until you register an opening," he commented. His single blade was held loosely, ineffectually at his side. Did he mean for me to strike again? "Patience is an art of discipline." His head cocked; his attention drawn to the sleek exit hatch of the training room. It was sealed shut. "But you must know when to employ it, little one, and when restraint becomes nothing more than inaction."

Was he mocking me? Darth Malak stood, face averted, sharp yellow eyes creased fixedly on the closed exit like it was a greater hazard than I was. The bitter virulence that simmered within me these days flared; and I was speeding forward again, feeling my lips curl over my teeth as I could see my lightsaber whir fast enough to-

-it crashed against his in a shuddering parry, and his corrupted gaze swung back to mine from beyond the crossed blades.

"Good!" Malak laughed, his voice no more than a series of mechanical whirs that haunted my every waking moment. "You are learning, little one. But hold, for now. We have a visitor."

His gloved hand moved; a short, abrupt motion of command. My lightsaber deactivated in automatic reflex.

The swish of the hatch opening echoed in the barren room. The man who entered was clad in an ostentatious silver-and-rubescent tunic, which clung to a long-limbed, athletic form. Rounded yellow eyes sparked like poisoned gems inset in a face of white, bordered by a tail of straight black hair.

The man appraised me openly, even as his long strides took him directly to Darth Malak.

He knelt effortlessly, in a subservient move that was as fluid as it was graceful.

"My lord," he murmured.

"Sharlan," Malak acknowledged. Despite the automated timbre of Malak's voice, I was accustomed to gauging his emotions from it. Malak was displeased. "You took longer than you should have."

Sharlan Nox. One of Malak's highest ranked Dark Jedi. The only one that remained, now.

The searing sound as I rammed Revan's lightsaber deep into Kylah's betraying heart flashed through my mind. The death throes of her smoking corpse-

"My apologies," the man drawled, smoothly returning to his feet. He brushed a long-fingered hand along the length of a cuff, smoothing the material over his chalk-white skin. "It took time to round up the pets you require, my lord. Evading the Republic fleet was also a-"

"You have command of a cloaked starship from this very Forge, Sharlan. Do you mean to suggest its abilities are inferior to those of the Republic Fleet's?" Malak's voder-enhanced voice lowered; a dangerous indication of his mood.

"Of course not, my lord!" Sharlan tinkled a laugh. "Your cloaking technology is superior to anything the Republic could counter with. I only hope my experiments serve you as prodigiously."

"Is that one of them?" Malak snapped, crooking a finger towards something beyond the Dark Jedi's back.

I had not noticed the silent, kneeling figure behind Sharlan Nox.

A ghostly tremor whispered down my back. Sometimes, I had the soul-freezing notion that my awareness was entirely ensnared in the nebulous vortex of Darth Malak.

Revan, I whispered uselessly to myself, keeping the thought small.

I had not been able to reach her since our victory on the Leviathan. I survived as I appeased Darth Malak- but he did not own me. The one thread that held me from submerging completely under his dominion was still out there, somewhere, having promised to come for me.

Revan.

"I have brought you eight in total," Sharlan Nox trilled, tapping a skeletal digit against his duranex-clad thigh. "Come here, pet."

The silent stranger was a male Human, young and attractive, with thick brown lips and midnight skin. His gaze was downcast as he strode to Sharlan's side.

I shivered. I knew little of Sharlan Nox, other than that he had been found by Revan herself in the wake of Malachor. Not a fallen Jedi. Not one who had ever touched the light, except for perhaps the most incurious of glances.

Sharlan held the passive Human's jaw in a pale hand, before leaning forward and... and kissing the man... thoroughly... in front of Darth Malak himself!

My cheeks were aflame as I jerked my attention away, both affronted and highly uncomfortable.

"Enough, Sharlan! Else there will be little of use left in your pets. Control your appetite or I shall control it for you."

"Of course, my lord," Sharlan appeased in a mild, lilting tone. "They have all sworn undying loyalty to you. All eight of my lovely little pets." The lascivious man hummed. I was still staring forcibly at the far wall, the corners of my mouth turned down in inimical disgust; but, somehow, I felt the heavy weight of the man's intrusive gaze land on me. "And is this your own personal pet, my lord? Is this Bastila Shan herself?"

Malak said nothing. I continued my blank, unseeing stare away from them both. Soft footsteps whispered toward me. I felt Sharlan's shadow eclipse me before I saw it.

"All porcelain beauty and silent outrage," the man murmured, trespassing into my field of vision. "Attractive enough, for a Human."

It was an odd comment from one who was Human himself, and the irregularity of it drew my gaze to meet his. His eyes were sharp, superficial, corrupted yellow; just like Malak's. Just like every fallen one who had damned themselves-

Revan's gaze had once been black, I recalled. Black as the far reaches of space. Black as the lips of this abominable creature who strutted in front of me-

Sharlan smiled, a cruel widening of a thin mouth in an alabaster face marked only with a curious slit on either cheek. He lifted one long-limbed hand to touch my face-

I jerked backward, awaiting Malak's directive to cease, to desist toying with what he continued to label his apprentice-

But the Dark Lord of the Sith said nothing.

Sharlan stepped forward again, so close I should have felt the heat of his body. Even amongst the waves of the Force, so wild and efficacious here on the Star Forge, I could barely sense this foul creature of the dark. His presence was a muted, oily thing; like dregs of silt marring the crystalline depths of an untouched lagoon. His hand reached out-

"Do not touch me again," I hissed, but heard the shakiness in my own feeble voice. I glanced back to Malak, but he was as still as a corpse, observing us both in quiet detachment.

The embers of outrage simmered in my heart. I would not suffer indignity again... not like this. Not as a tool of amusement from a depraved scion of Malak's.

"You are more potent than I expected," Sharlan commented. There was a brush of Force against my mind, and I recoiled from the obtrusive touch. "I understand my lord's fascination, now."

He leaned over and clasped my jaw tight in his claw-like grip.

"I wonder, my lord..." His evocative words were meant for Malak, but his creeping gaze bored into mine. "I wonder... would you allow me a taste of her?"

A moment of eternity, hinged upon a deathly silence. No words uttered from Malak.

Sharlan inched closer, his round eyes piercing into mine, his black lips-

Self-control shattered. An inferno flared inside me, burning away all residue of fear or inaction. The Force in all of its chaotic brilliance exploded, and I became no more than a vessel for unholy emotions as they streamed out through my hands in a manifestation of energy.

Sharlan Nox went flying across the room.

"I said, do not touch me!" The howl ripped from my lungs. I still felt the ghostly imprint of his bloodless fingers against my chin. Scarlet retribution leapt from my hands as I chased him down, lost to everything but the burn of passion-

A figure blurred in front of me. Oh, but if Sharlan Nox thought he could withstand the vengeance he had just unleashed then he was deluded-

With a sharp cry, my body began a swift ascent into a sweeping lunge.

Something whispered- intuition or the Star Forge itself-

-change course, catch the dodge that will come-

I wrenched downwards, my lightsaber changing direction in an unnaturally abrupt move reinforced by the primal power that sang passion through my blood.

There was a vague, mild resistance as scarlet plasma seared through flesh.

A body collapsed in two charred, useless pieces; thumping to the ground with a hollow thud.

The tempest ebbed, retreating in shuddering gasps. A mechanical chuckle reverberated throughout the room. The mutilated corpse at my feet sharpened into focus, as sanity crawled back into control.

It was the Human. The pet. Now in pieces, having inserted himself between my wrath and the useless depravity of his master-

Beyond, Sharlan slowly rose to his feet, dusting off his tunic with pale hands in an outward display of insouciant nonchalance. "Well," he drawled, tilting his head at Malak. "It turns out I have brought you seven pets in total, my lord."

Malak's laughter dwindled as his deathly gaze pinned mine. He began to stride toward me, and now fear became my only master. My stomach bottomed out, extinguishing the remnants of the fury that had blossomed in such magnificence.

"I had wondered when your backbone would show," Malak murmured. His eyes creased in pleasure, and a finger rose to touch the side of my cheek gently. I flinched, but against him- all I felt was a galling subservience. "Weakness does not become you, little one."

...

He had sent Sharlan Nox away, after that. Raised his lightsaber at me once more, and again inveigled me into our dance of darkness, allowing me no recourse to ruminate over what had just happened.

It matters not. If I could have ended all of Sharlan's filthy little pets and Sharlan Nox himself, I would. Malak had plans for Sharlan, no doubt... he had plans for me. And Revan.

But I had plans of my own.

The console lay dark and quiet beneath my gloved hands. Spidersilk black encased my limbs, now; offset by a sweeping cloak of midnight that Malak himself had clasped around my neck. Gifts from the Star Forge, little one. I did not sense any work of the Force within these garments, but I could not be certain. Malak garbed me to his liking, and his liking was that I became more attached to the Star Forge with each pressing day...

...and I could see the advantages in that, myself.

Malak thought to own me, to court me with the allure of omnipotent power the Star Forge offered – and there was truth amongst his duplicity, glimmers of reality amongst his delusions. Things were not so black and white as they had once appeared, to my younger, more innocent eyes.

I had been blind, and so naïve and rigid in my blindness.

Now, shallow words of appeasement might fall from my lips to gratify the Sith Lord, but it was all a waiting game.

Revan understood. She had always understood that, sometimes, one must do or say the unthinkable, in the name of the greater good.

She understood, even if she did not remember.

...

The immense kaiburr rippled with energy, each pulse buffeting against me. I was like a helpless child struggling against almighty waves of icy seafoam that engulfed me with the frigid strength of nature at its terrifying best.

-surrender, succumb and see the truth-

The voice of the Star Forge was more than just potent; it echoed deep into my marrow, compelling me to stop railing against what I could no more overpower than a starship could hold back a black hole.

-let down your guard and evolve to what you were meant to be-

The core of the Star Forge beat a steady thrum, as if it were an ancient, massive heart, almost predatory in nature. Each beat promised power. Strength. Freedom.

It was unfathomable in its depth. And at its nexus was Malak.

See, little one. It was a command. I had no perception of his physical presence in this room, this inner chamber of the Star Forge he had brought me to; but his psychic presence suffocated me nonetheless. See what we once found.

His images burned through my mind, entangled so deeply with his black emotions that I felt rather than saw what he intended.

A purple world. A creeping plague of darkness. Death. Death of...

...death of the Force itself.

I beheld shadows of licking anti-life, twisting through the nether, winking out the beauty and the feral power that fuelled the Force, be it light or dark or somewhere in between. The shadows left nothing in their path but an empty organic life; a shallow mirror of dull existence, beyond horrifying to perceive.

The shadows were sentient. The shadows were... spreading.

This... this was it, I thought numbly. This was the turning point. Revan's turning point. Even the pinnacle of the kaiburr's power couldn't hold back my terror. I didn't comprehend what Malak saw, what Malak felt- not truly. Just a bone-chilling knowledge that this threat- whatever it was-

It was... it was...

Come back, little one. Lose yourself here and you will not return.

It was worse than anything the universe had seen before.

-the power is here to combat the threat. all you need do is grasp it-

Come back, Bastila.

Malak's voice, of all the damned things in the galaxy, was my life-line now as panic sunk its claws into the foundations of my being. The death of the Force. Something is... hunting down the Force itself... and extinguishing it. Forever. Chaotic waves of kaiburr-enhanced Force crashed into me, submerging me with pure energy, the very antithesis of the memory Malak had plunged me into.

The Force cannot die. It is never-ending. It cannot...

So, you see a glimpse, at least, of what set us on our path.

What form the threat was, exactly, I did not comprehend. Malak's shared memories were a turmoil of half-formed conceptions and emotions, a blinkered remnant of something he had once experienced. But there was a shattering truth at the core of them I could not deny.

The Republic with their pretty fleets and ineffectual bureaucracy cannot counter it. The Jedi Order with their trite mumblings of harmony would crumble like dust in the face of what we have seen.

Malak's psychic recollections faded, and my terror ebbed as rational thought returned. The power of the Star Forge was a comfort, now; a reminder than any threat, no matter how colossal, could be retaliated against with the correct means.

-yes, and the power is here-

Revan thought to build an empire strong enough to attack it. Malak laughed. A mirthless sound of automated whirring through his vocabulator. Power... she had the right of that, at least.

He spoke no more, and yet I wondered what he believed.

Revan's war against the Republic coalesced into sense, now. I had suspected there was an ulterior motive in her actions beyond the undeniable corruption of the Dark Side- and this appeared to be the essence of her reasoning.

In contrast, as Dark Lord, Malak was always more willing to destroy resources and planets. He was more destructive, more gratuitous, less invested in keeping his vision fixed upon that which had turned them in the first place-

Some things are better left alone, little one. He had said that to me, once, not so long ago- and had been referring directly to the Unknown Regions.

Why, then, had he shown me his truth, if he never meant to fight?

Knowledge, dear Bastila. Knowledge and understanding. You are at the edge of becoming what you could be, and yet fear holds you back. Fear of the Dark Side that has hamstrung you since the Jedi Masters first starting spouting rhetoric into your young ears.

I slowly became aware of physical sensation: the rasp of air pushing in and out of my lungs, the tightness of my eyes squeezed shut, the pressure of hands clasped down hard on my aching shoulders as energizing waves of kaiburr promise rallied around the both of us.

I do not undermine my empire with the pointless fear of the unknown reaching us. That was Revan's weakness, not mine. But ask yourself this, little one: wouldn't you rather have the power to stand against this threat – or any other – should it emerge? To grasp the almighty magnificence of the Force at its greatest?

-the Force is not dark. it is not evil. evil is only in the intent of the beholder-

The chrome of Malak's jaw brushed against the nape of my neck, and his words rasped against my ear. "Do you truly believe this is the Dark Side? When you have caught a glimpse of what we have seen?"

-evil is the death of the Force-

"Can you not sense the power I wield, and what we could achieve together, when you take the final step to my side?" Malak's gloved grasp still anchored me. Wild spirals of unbridled Force encased us both and shaped my thoughts.

To think, once, this was Revan's dominion. How great she must have been. How immensely powerful. And yet, even in her glory, she had still lost herself in the end. She had still not been strong enough to hold back the insidious madness that such power ultimately brings.

But together, together through our bond, we would be stronger still-

"It is time for you to make a choice, Bastila," Malak murmured. "Are you a prisoner or my apprentice?"

-choices are not always what they seem. people believe what they wish-

There was a hot tightness in my belly.

"I am no prisoner." My thoughts were an inferno of chaos. Revan was still not here, and I would do better to strengthen myself while this waiting game unfolded. "I am no prisoner," I repeated, holding back a small kernel of emotion deep inside my psyche, where even Malak could not reach.

"Name yourself then, little one. I would hear the words from your lips." His jaw pressed tight against my neck; cold, cold metal that chilled my skin. "Are you my apprentice?"

"Yes," I gasped, hating the treacherous curl of betrayal that burned like bile. Words did not matter, even if he thought they did. "Yes, master."

I would say what I had to, but that did not make it truth.

...

The words had appeased Malak, and I was careful to keep my true loyalty as hidden as I could. But soon... soon, it would all change.

Everything had changed so much already.

Had the masters, any of them, ever had an inkling of what lurked beyond known space?

There had been rumours- no more than whisperings of rumours- that the Mandalorian invasion may have been triggered by something more than just their eons-old lust for conquest. Force knew the Mandalorians had always tested their so-called mettle by engaging in barbaric combat, but never on such a scale. Never at such risk to their own territory, to the security of their much-valued Clans.

The theory of a great threat had led on to suppositions of what had caused Revan's dramatic fall after Malachor – but the party line of the Order had always remained steadfast: it was due to horrors of war. Revan Freeflight and all who followed her should have listened to the Jedi.

But the Jedi had been fools after all. Little more than misguided cowards, hiding behind the protection and the Republic-sanctioned status of their robes.

Even before Malak had shared his warped version of the truth, I had begun to doubt the Jedi's account of events. I had begun to see what most of the Republic had believed: without Revan's interference, the Mandalorians would have won.

And now... and now I began to understand why she had turned on those she had once thought to protect.

Malak said it himself. Revan thought to build an empire strong enough to attack whatever is out there. Revan thought to conquer the Republic, and in doing so, save it.

Before the madness took her. Before she became what Malak is now: a power-hungry slave to the chaos of the Force.

Revan had lost her objectivity along the way. But I could see what it had been, once. And I could remind her, show her what we could achieve together-

The danger of the Dark Side is ever present. The memory of Master Vrook's voice murmured in my mind, dry and severe with his ceaseless caution. You cannot trust what you were shown from a Sith Lord's mind!

My old master. I had loved him, as a padawan should love their master. But he held no power over me now. The recollections of his tutelage were naught more than a fading shadow, a shadow whose disappearance I welcomed.

For it turned out, I could trust Master Vrook about as far as I could trust Darth Malak.

...

::Send the western fleets to Admiral Dodonna,:: a slurring voice shot out from a uniformed Mon Calamari atop a holo-stand. Age spots dappled down his sloping forehead. ::Anything within seven days range of the Edean sector. If this is our one chance to destroy Darth Malak, then we shall hit quick and hard!::

The hologram flickered in front of us: intercepted communications some days old that Malak delighted in sharing.

"General Adashan," I uttered in recognition. My voice was hollow, as hollow as my heart. General Adashan had been responsible for my alacritous removal from Manaan; it was his clout that had Commander Wann transfer me, still comatose, onboard the fleeing Ebon Hawk in the company of a former Sith Lord.

The Republic had been keen to extract me, a valuable dejarik piece, out of the growing political quagmire on Manaan. So keen, they thought nothing of playing games of chance with my own personal safety-

"Yes, Adashan has been licking Republic boots since the Mandalorian Wars," Malak commented. "The Republic are rallying, little one. Do you wish to see what their orders are?"

I stared at him, mute. Truly, it was not as if he offered me a tangible choice.

But it was not as if I would turn it down, had it been one.

He chortled, and leaned forward to press another silvery button.

::We will waste no time in reconnaissance,:: the next voice said; the smooth timbre of a serious Human. Her greying hair was pulled tight in a severe bun underneath a crisp military hat. ::Assuming no further intelligence returns from our scouts, the orders remain the same: a direct assault on the Star Forge until it is destroyed. As soon as our fleets exit hyperspace, we advance. We give no quarter, no warning, no chance of defence-::

The hologram winked out underneath Malak's gloved finger.

Forn Dodonna. Leading the advance. To attack the Star Forge, even though they know-

"They move to strike, Bastila. They know of your presence here, and yet they are willing to sacrifice you – even after all you have sacrificed in their name."

The Republic had to weigh gains versus losses. The gain of Darth Malak's end, versus the loss of... me.

The realization burned. Deep and hot.

"They have Jedi Masters advising them, little one. Would you like to see the manifest?"

I was not even aware of the traitorous droplets of moisture clouding my vision as the text scrolled on the impersonal screen. Even through my beclouded eyes, one name shone through, crystallizing into cursed recognition.

Vrook Lamar, Master of the Dantooine Enclave of the Jedi Order.

The betrayal struck like a shaft-spear straight through the centre of my heart.

This was one of the many crimes they attributed to Revan Freeflight. Sacrificing individuals for a strategic cause. Master Vrook... he always- he always despised Revan, and yet here he is-

Acting in exactly the same fashion. Ceding my life, the life of his only padawan, for a so-called higher purpose.

"Your master, Bastila. He is part of the Republic assault. He is willing to sanction your death, for his vision of the greater good."

...

And, still, the console I stared at was dark.

There were motion sensors active on the top of the pyramid; the flight-droid that controlled the starship's landing had installed them. The moment Revan stepped close enough to the holo-stand, the communication channel would open.

It could not be long, now, before she did. An hour or so had already passed since I had awoken her. She must be close to clearing the pyramid, close to speaking with me.

It may have been Malak's design, but he was a fool if he believed I danced to his tune. I had the opportunity of warning her while he slept, deep in meditation at the heart of the Forge.

The greater good.

I understood sacrifice in the name of the greater good, now more than ever- now that I had tasted true evil. But I also knew the greater good required my survival- mine and Revan's.

Every sentient struggled for survival. Malak might desire my gifts as his apprentice, but he would willingly sacrifice me for his own purpose. My old master had already accepted my sacrifice, as evidenced by his advisory position to the Fleet that travelled to attack.

To attack me.

There was one sentient I could trust to never surrender my life – no matter that she had spent her years yielding whatever she had to in the name of the cursed greater good.

For our bond shackled us both, with a trust and dependency deeper than Malak knew. His awareness of its strength had grown, but he was not cognizant of just how intermeshed our individual connections to the Force were. The moment Malak realized that the death of one of us would mirror in the other, would be when my usefulness to him would narrow to one event only: my death.

It was the secret I kept tightly locked away, hidden deep beneath all other extraneous thoughts.

It was also the binding truth of why he would never, truly, own me.

I would act out his demands because I had to, or because I believed them necessary regardless; but always, always, my final loyalty remained with the one whose loyalty was just as firmly returned: because it had to be.

Because our lives depended on each other.

...

"Eight hours until the first of the Republic starships enter the sector," Malak murmured. Screeds of info-data scrolled in the air, transposed over a holo-map of the Star Forge. "The pyramid's signal will scatter them, but I expect a few to reach the Star Forge nonetheless."

"Your fighters will no doubt destroy them, my lord." The words burned less the more I used them. They were empty, hollow utterances that meant nothing.

"Indeed. But this is where you prove your loyalty." He turned to face me, his eyes gleaming with a supremacy that was galling.

He believes I bow to his whim. But I only do what I must... for now.

"You will use your Battle Meditation to hasten the destruction of their fleet, Bastila. I will accept nothing less from you. There will be no second chance if you falter in this, my new apprentice."

The words brimmed with mechanical satisfaction. His order to attack what had been my allies, my people, those I had sworn to defend...

...it should have felt harder than it did to bow my head in acquiescence.

They come to vanquish me! The rebuttal rang with righteousness in my head. I had no other choice. The Republic was damned whether I acted against them or not... and even if they did, implausibly, defeat Malak and the Star Forge, they would never be strong enough alone to face the real threat.

As for the Jedi Order... they had failed me. Just like they had failed Revan.

"Yes, master," I whispered.

"Good," he murmured, turning away. "For I shall be otherwise engaged with Revan."

It took a moment for the bold nature of the words to scythe though my calamitous thoughts.

"Wha- what?" I gasped, the words hissing from my lungs. "Is- is she here?

"The shell of my old master is trapped on the surface of Lehon," Malak said. "It seems she is retracing our old steps... not that it will do her any good." There was a low humming from deep within his vocabulator. "In six hours, you shall reach out to her, Bastila. Invite her to meet you on top the pyramid that houses the Forge's first line of defence. Coax her, tempt her, demand her presence. Do whatever is necessary to ensure she comes at your call."

"Am I- am I to travel to Lehon?" I whispered. Unbelieving hope dawned a sunrise after an eternity of night-

"Do you take me for a slack-jawed imbecile?" Malak growled, the cadence of his voice switching abruptly with his mood. "You stay here, my apprentice. You stay here until she has died her final death."

He strode forward, and again his gloved hands captured my face, holding me immobile with my own fear. "Do you think me unaware of the fruitless hope you cling to? How you hold her existence tight in your heart? Oh, I understand such fragility well, little one. Remember, I once called her master, much the same as you do now."

An indignant denial rose within me- No. No! He can say what he will, but I know the truth. The bond we share makes us equal, no matter Revan's power. It was not the first time Malak dared imply such a thing. The bond makes us equal, my mind repeated. No matter that Revan's Force power blazed like a supernova- we were equal. We were!

If I had been braver, I would have denied such a preposterous claim to Malak's face. But I was learning... had learned... when it was best to stay silent, and allow Malak the victory of voicing his own, misguided conclusions.

The pressure of his hands, unyielding against my face, stopped any refutation of mine issuing forth regardless.

"I am your master, Bastila. And once Revan is dead and the Republic forces destroyed, I shall own you in every way."

I am your master.

Malak's words echoed in my head, and the frantic nature of my own thoughts froze in self-preservation. Better that he believe I accepted his words. Better that he think I bow my head in compliance.

"Observe, little one." His voice ebbed back into mild neutrality, and his hands dropped. A swish of a gloved limb, and the holo-map vanished, to be replaced with the scene of a courtyard dappled with the last gasp of daylight.

"The vid-cam from the viewport of a Forge snubfighter," Malak clarified. "It has been remote-flown to the pyramid on Lehon, and its flight-droid has installed a holo-stand for visual communication. My ships are not affected by the scrambler, dear Bastila. You shall lead Revan into this ship and bring her to me."

If Revan and the others were truly stranded on Lehon – and I had no reason to doubt Malak on this – then her only option for departure was in his chosen vessel.

"Why the holo-stand?" I mumbled, trying to make sense of Malak's reasoning. He had once assured me that he would kill Revan in the most expedient of ways- not risk granting her an opportunity for victory-

"So she can see you are talking with her alone, of course. I doubt she is truly the match of the Revan I once knew, but even a broken, mind-addled fool would expect my hand here."

Malak had mocked me, once – dared me to believe he would allow Revan to reach the Star Forge unhindered, when he could kill her from afar. If she was already trapped on Lehon, why would he grant her an opportunity to leave?

I had countered with the transparent ploy of a fair fight, at which he had laughed.

Could it be the idea had grown in appeal to him?

"She can only hear your voice through your telepathy. But by using a holo-stand, she can see with her own broken eyes that you act alone." His eyes narrowed; whether in pleasure or irritation I could not perceive. "It seems you shall get your wish after all, little one. Revan shall return to the Star Forge. Alone, without her allies, to face me in my place of power."

A curl of unease sat in my gut. There was something off about this- something I did not quite comprehend-

"In six hours' time, you shall reach out to her." He tilted his head, and gestured toward the exit of the command room. "But for now, we sleep. Even the Force cannot hold back exhaustion forever."

No matter what Malak's game was, if it meant Revan made it to the Star Forge then there was still hope- still a chance-

"Come, little one." He folded his arms, awaiting my subservience. "We shall rest in deep meditation, and arise in six hours. There is a lot to prepare for."

"Yes, master," I whispered, bowing my head. And the thought shone with startling clarity – maybe this was his trap, his machination but who said I had to play by his rules?

...

Deep meditation was akin to sleep; a resting of the physical and a re-energizing of the mind. While the Force protected one in such a state, it also dulled the physical senses.

Malak only allowed me to rest near the kaiburr, these days. He would sit, cross-legged, and sink into a deep trance himself. The Force would wrap around him in a thick shield of energy that was both impenetrable and glorious.

I had lulled myself into meditation as per usual, but I had kept part of myself back. Just enough to grasp upon the edge of awareness, the corner of full consciousness.

I had waited until I was sure Malak was as submerged as he could be. And then I had waited some more.

When I could wait no longer, I silently rose to my feet and slipped out of the inner chamber.

I had hours left until Darth Malak would arise from his meditation. Hours in which I could lure Revan to the Star Forge, sooner than Malak expected, and everything would change.

It could not be long, now.

Patience.

Any moment, any moment now, the motion sensors should register her presence, and the holo-stand would activate.

Patience is an art of discipline.

Bastila? I'm here.

xXx

Author's Note:
Coming up next: Revan talks to Bastila.

Thanks as always to kosiah for the beta.