Nexus: Convergence


Bastila Shan:

The soul-curdling memory whispered to me. Replaying the same vision; taunting with the same dark malevolence. Again and again in an ever-growing echo of evil.

Shadows of licking anti-life, twisting through the nether.

The images burned when I slept. When I woke. Whenever my mind wandered from its tightly held directive.

Winking out the beauty and the feral power that fuelled the Force, be it light or dark or somewhere in between.

The true threat behind everything.

Death of the Force itself.

My hands clenched tight against the smooth alloy railing of the meditation chamber Malak had so thoughtfully bestowed upon me. My head bowed, tightly twisted braids dangling like limp vines slowly suffocating for lack of sunlight. My eyes squeezed tight against the inevitable.

-evil is the death of the Force-

How could Revan turn from me? How could she behold this horror, this most crucial remnant of her cursed past, and then bleat on about the insignificant lives of a fleet doomed to destruction?

She was broken. Truly broken, when I first saved her. Since then, Revan had vaulted from strength to strength, despite the hurdles along the way, until even I had dared dream she could once again be the mighty hero the galaxy needed.

She still retained her old power. Oh, yes, I had tasted that enough times. But what was the power of Revan Freeflight against the death of the Force? When she refused to claim our only hope of triumph?

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

Malak would awaken soon, if he had not already. He would find me. A platitude or two might soothe my forbidding master, but he would soon command me to contact Revan, and when she did not answer the holo-call-

He will tear into my thoughts, discover I have already spoken with her-

I had expected Revan to be here by now! Now, before I had to face Malak again. Maybe- maybe she has changed her mind, stepped into the snubfighter, and is already on her way- For Revan, of all sentients, should comprehend what was truly at stake.

The old Revan had known, had understood.

Shoulds and maybes don't make a wall, Bastila. Rely on them and you may as well tuck your head beneath your bedcovers. Focus on what you can do.

I had to reach out to Revan again. Contact her, before Malak arrived. Pride held me back- pride and resentment were emotions I did not wish to admit- but the sting of Revan denying me, when she had been upon the precipice of truth-

She does not grasp the truth in its entirety. Perhaps Revan was still too broken. But while her strength eclipsed mine, I was the one who stood upon the Star Forge. I understood the limitations and possibilities of the bond that shackled us. I could sense the deep reverberation of promise echoing from the mighty heart of this very factory.

Perhaps, all I needed to do was remind her that our power was greater as one.

With a shaky breath, I called upon the Star Forge and released the psychic shield I had built between us.

There was...

My heart froze in disbelief.

...nothing.

What? No sense of my bond-sister. No presence intermingled within my connection to the Force. No tangible block on her end, nothing but an empty space where Revan should reside.

The taint of vague horror uncurled in my stomach. My thoughts raced as wildly as a summer storm. Nothing. How could that be? She is missing... again?

It took a moment for my frantic mind to slow. To ease back into something approaching order. This has the same feel as Kashyyyk, I thought numbly, when Darth Bandon collared her. Somewhere, Revan had vanished from the Force. Or the Leviathan, when that schutta had thrown her into a Force-cage.

The flurry of panic threatened to soar again. Is Revan once more someone's prisoner? Is this all for naught? Is her death merely one heartbeat away- and mine, also?

Yet... yet I did not know how she escaped Bandon, nor the cage on the Leviathan. Revan had never shared the specifics; all I had was Malak's patchy guesswork. A desperate laugh choked from my lungs. Perhaps Revan has willingly donned a disruptor, to ensure neither I nor Malak can contact her.

It seemed an absurd thought. Such an incongruous image: Revan forfeiting the Force.

I blinked back the sting of moisture in my eyes. Curse you, Revan. Do you stand upon Lehon now, Force-blind and hopeful, with no plan behind you other than your thrice-damned luck?

But... had she not alluded to another plan? An alternative method to reach the Star Forge? That geriatric who now followed her said as much atop the pyramid. There is another way. The sting of bitter distaste was acrid in my mouth. If Revan truly believed the Ebon Hawk could navigate against Malak's scrambler and through his armada both-

Then she was even more broken than I realized.

-you can be the saviour. the power is here-

I had so little time. If Revan remained on Lehon, then Malak would target her only after the ill-fated Republic forces had burned into space dust. I would do my part; it made no difference if the chaff headed our way destroyed themselves against my battle meditation or Malak's scrambler. They were dead regardless.

And their objective of destroying the Star Forge was as nihilistic as Revan's. They were blind bantha butting heads against a wall, without seeing that the wall was the only structure capable of holding the darkness at bay.

In that regard, Malak reigning victorious was a more desirable outcome.

At least he would have a chance against what lies in the Unknown Regions. Another bitter laugh bubbled from my cold lips. To think, I was driven to such a dark place that the thought of Malak winning was the lesser of two evils-

Malak's triumph over Revan would mean my death. But it would give the galaxy a chance of survival.

-you can be the saviour-

The power that Revan and I could wield together would be greater than the fist of Darth Malak. And I alone was grounded. I, alone, had my focus fixed where it should be: the true threat behind it all. For I had little faith in Malak's sanity – or Revan's objectivity, now.

And if, somehow, Revan was on her way here and despite the odds made it through-

Then we destroy Malak. And I would make her see the truth, or Force help me, the Star Forge itself could.

For now, I would wait. Appease Darth Malak, and wait for Revan. I swallowed against the lump in my throat. My entire life had been spent waiting for someone else to decide my next move. It was a bitter realization.

Malak might be the master, but only in this ephemeral moment. Masters changed, usually to whomever held the seat of power. And the power was here.

If I could not make Revan see reason, then I would step up and seize-

The hatch behind me opened with a hiss.

"Little one," Darth Malak murmured.

xXx

Zez-Kai Ell:

"The Senate demands transparency of all financial matters. Establishment and assessed compliance of our own professional standards." Kavar's eyes were so hard they'd turned a slate grey colour. His knuckles bleached white as they gripped the offending datapad. "Minutes of board meetings. They want us to scribble down specifics of High Council Meetings?"

"They seek to define us, Kavar." I sighed. There was a weariness deep in my soul that made me feel, for the first time in my life, truly old. Defining the Jedi Order within a framework meant we could be all the easier controlled. That was obvious, to any master worth his robes. "Their recommendation is a non-profit corporation, although there is the alternate option of declaring the Order a religious organization."

"Religion." Kavar shot the word back at me, his head lifting briefly. "We have faith in the Force, Zez, not some dogmatic consortium revolving around a fictional deity."

I tilted my head. "Many have compared the Order to a religion in the past. It is a better fit that a non-profit, if you ask me."

"Dammit, Zez, that's not the point!" Kavar slammed his hand down on the poraclay surface in a rare show of temper.

"I know," I murmured. "But we knew the Senate's reaction was coming. Perhaps the shape of it was unknown, but nonetheless, their displeasure was guaranteed to fall upon us one way or another."

"Ever since Atris-"

I cut him off with a dry laugh. "Be honest, my old friend. Our reckoning has been due for a lot longer than our colleague's revelation to the Senate. Revan Freeflight's resurrection was merely the last straw for a generation of disgruntled politicians."

Kavar closed his eyes in defeat. "They blame us for non-involvement," he said softly. "Then they turn around and blame us for Revan and Malak."

"The Jedi have always enjoyed a position of impartiality from judgment, Kavar. Do I like the Senate enforcing limitations on us? No. Do I think it's fair? That is a harder question."

"Fair," he muttered. "It's never been about fair, Zez. Life isn't fair-"

"Yet fairness, or lack thereof, is what the masses see." Truly, there were times I found it difficult to believe that Kavar had been born into a political family. He was an honest man – and I loved him for it – but there was no denying his objectivity was sometimes clouded. "The Order has been a part of the Republic for centuries. Yet we are granted concessions no other institution or member-state can solicit. We pay no tax. We cannot be indicted to the Senate. We are allowed to claim – even exonerate – the galaxy's most heinous villains. Why?"

Kavar shot me a strange look. "We wield the Force, Zez."

I shook my head almost impatiently. "There are all manner of sentients and cultures who have special abilities. What separates the Jedi from them?"

Again, his expression appeared to be debating on whether I had sprouted another head. "The Force, Zez. The power that the Force grants us."

"Power." There. That was the key. Kavar and I had engaged in shades of this dialogue before, and never reached an accord. Yet there had been something different about Kavar, lately. A jaded bleakness at the edges of his mind. Not an emotion I desired to see my friend inflicted with, for all that it seemed to have granted him some badly-needed gravitas. "It is the power of the Force, Kavar. That is what the citizens of the Republic see, that is what the Senate once trusted. That we would step up as galactic guardians, with the power of the Force as our might and their shield, should the need ever arise."

A faint sigh ghosted from his lips. It sounded wistful. "Then the Mandalorians came."

"Aye," I murmured. "Then the Mandalorians came."

Kavar turned his head to stare blankly through the open viewport. Outside, the fragrant gardens of the inner Temple scented the air with rose petals and starflowers, and I doubted he even noticed.

That would be an end to our conversation, I suspected. For if there was one topic that had always divided us, it was the Order's decree regarding the Mandalorian invasion. My given opinion had been scarce in the High Council chambers: that we could not sit back, no matter the danger to our souls. That we could not expect the Republic to understand our need for caution, when all they saw was millions of their own dying-

For if we weren't able to convince our own knights to embrace non-involvement, how could we believe the galaxy at large would accept it?

Whatever impetus had driven the Mandalorian Clans may have been hazardous to our fractured Order, but our chosen route of inaction instead felt like a gradual death. A death of our integrity, our principles, even our own meaning. There had been something behind the Mandalorian thirst for conquest – our grand masters had been convinced of it, even if their deep meditations had never revealed precisely what. That ominous presentiment, coupled with the scars of Exar Kun's war, had been enough to convince the High Council to sit back. Wait for the opportune time. Allow the true threat behind it all to show itself-

Allow the Republic to burn, first.

I'd had dark times, in years past, when I had doubted my loyalty to the High Council. When I had wondered, dangerously, if I should do what no other master would- if I should follow my old padawan into war-

Aye, but would that have meant falling alongside her? That was the true danger we all feared. The temptation of losing oneself, of transforming into a being held hostage by the whims of one's own dark desires. Or the flipside. Could I have drawn her back?

A bitter, bitter thought.

She was dead, now.

I'd felt it, some weeks ago, her life a dark spark that snuffed out in caustic bitterness. A shock sensation that woke me from my slumber; that pulled at the shadows in my heart.

The Senate refused to share beyond the most basic of military statistics, but I did not need to review the casualty lists from the skirmish above Kashyyyk. The timing fit: she had been on the Leviathan. My cautious, irreverent, once-padawan.

I'd begged her not to follow Revan Freeflight, but when she did- aye, and when her name was one of the Thirteen emblazoned on the hearts of the Republic- I had silently praised her courage.

So many of us had lost padawans. So many of us had watched them ascend to knighthood, only to fall from afar.

"Self-realization is a bitter pill to swallow," Kavar murmured. He was looking back at me again, expression heavy with grief. His fair hair was peppered with grey, and hard lines of age bracketed his sturdy face. Somewhere along the line, even my youthful friend had begun to show his years. "I've spent so long blaming the likes of Revan Freeflight for our slipping status within the Senate. But when I look back..."

He trailed off. And I discerned, then, the note of regret clouding his voice. After all this time of staunchly defending the Order's decision, I had to wonder- did Kavar, now, wish he had chosen differently?

As Jedi, we looked to the past for guidance, not self-flagellation. But it was so intrinsically difficult not to dovetail into defeatist what-might-have-been's, when so many lives were on the line.

The corners of Kavar's mouth turned down. "Have you spoken to the others?"

"Some." I inclined my head. "Lonna is furious. Deshtar is scrabbling for a loop-hole. And Atris- well. She is adamant that we must appease the Senate."

Kavar snorted. Funny how Atris Surik always managed to bring out the worst in him. "She's a blind mynock for not seeing how this would backfire so badly."

"Perhaps. But even you must admit that Atris' intentions were sound, no matter how ill-thought out. She believed full disclosure would regain some trust-"

"Because informing senators that Dantooine sponsored the release of Darth Revan was always going to rebuild trust," he muttered darkly.

"Sarcasm ill befits you, Kavar."

He threw me a crooked grimace of chagrin. "To be fair, I don't necessarily disagree with the actions of Dantooine. Stars, letting this broken version of Revan loose seems to have granted us a long-shot at taking out the heart of the Sith. It's just the secrecy-"

"Which is why Atris revealed it," I said calmly. "Because she did not trust the High Council to do so."

"We would have told them eventually," he grumbled, but his heart wasn't in it. Neither was mine. Every High Council member was well-aware of the growing mistrust the Senate harboured toward the Order. To admit to them that one of our enclaves had undertaken such action- not only without Senate knowledge, but also their own High Council's-

I could see why the Senate wished to rein us in. I detested the very idea, but I could certainly understand why.

"We should head to the chambers," I said. "The others will be waiting. We all need to work together to form an appropriate response for the Senate. That means you need to play nice with Atris."

Kavar shot me a grin that echoed with his wry candour of old. "I can do that," he assented. His grin only grew at my look of disbelief. "Trust me, Zez. Force, she might be our only inside line left to the Senate. If Atris has news of the Star Forge, I'll even slap a smile on my face and compliment her shiny outfit."

xXx

Malak Devari:

She stood before me in silence. Eyes downcast, figure preternaturally still – the young woman had come far, in the short time her soul had been mine to mould.

"I cannot reach her, master."

She was a much more proficient liar than she had been.

My gloved hand dropped to Bastila's shoulder. I could feel the ridges of slender bones beneath my grip. Fragile and delicate. Just like her mind, as it fluttered to defend against the touch of my own. Ah, but I had been inside Bastila's mind too often, these days. The path was well-worn and beaten down.

"Your words are honest," I intoned, interleaving my thoughts with hers. Her relief at my agreement was a sharp tang that failed to conceal her fear. "But your intent is not."

Physical contact made a psychic breach so much easier. I had always found this side of the Force obscure and indirect, but it certainly had its uses. With the power of the Star Forge augmenting my strength, any facet of Force use was possible. Surmountable. Masterable.

"I- I- tried to speak to h-her, but she w-would not answer-" Blabbering words. Stuttering like an invertebrate slave. Her bones ground together beneath my grasp as I let the first edge of my displeasure show.

Holding back a gasp of pain, Bastila looked up. Her tawny eyes widened as she understood that I already knew of her treachery. A swallow, but she held my gaze, face pale and bloodless, as she awaited her master's next move. Her chin lifted.

There. There was the steel I needed in an apprentice. The perfect blend of steel and sweet fear.

"You disobeyed me, little one," I murmured. "You spoke to your old master before I gave you leave to."

As always, such a reference shone sparks of indignant amber that glowed in her eyes. She struggled valiantly to conceal it, but Bastila's weakness was obvious. Her innate objection to naming Revan as her superior was strong. Greater, perhaps, than her resistance at bending knee to me had been. It was... an interesting observation.

The past is merely the journey one has taken to reach the now. No point feeling the sting of self-disgust at what one had done. Bastila may never have knelt in subservience to Revan the way I had been forced to, but her heart had been bound just the same.

Throwing off the shackles of the past was what allowed one to embrace the present.

Now, my present stood, shaking in my grasp and yet awaiting my displeasure in silent readiness. An influx of energy levelled in on her mass. Holding her upright, alert for my retaliation. The power of the Star Forge. She had called upon it, and the Forge answered. The kaiburr... liked her. The Star Forge approved of my choice.

A curl of pleasure unfurled in my gut. Truly, I had chosen well.

"I am your master," I uttered, as I toyed over what to do with her. Pain was a price to pay. A battle to win. A challenge to overcome. This was one of the most valuable lessons I could give her. "I know your mind, your hopes, your desires. Did you believe I would not notice you rising early? That I would not account for it?"

Shock blanked her face.

She doesn't know, I realized with vague amusement. The detonation on Lehon had been tripped successfully, tied to the completion of the holo-stand's transmission. The report had been waiting for me once I roused myself from meditation. All had gone as planned.

Although, truly, I had expected Bastila to have some inkling through her bond- unless one of them was deliberately blocking the other.

Revan is not dead. That is not the reason. Her death would have been a sweet prize, but I was not foolish enough to count on it. Force bonds rarely bloomed between a master and an apprentice, but when they did, one recipient almost certainly sensed the death of the other.

Their bond ran deeper.

"Show me," I whispered. My gloved hands held firm on her shoulders; my mind aimed like an arrow into hers. Show me. I would know all that went down on that dead world. Revan might still breathe, but she was trapped on Lehon's surface regardless. Perhaps the explosion had taken out some of her allies, and it must have broken her trust with Bastila-

A torrent of images unfurled like spring buds opening to the sun, each sprouting to life in my apprentice's mind. I saw the courtyard. I heard the conversation. The entrance of Revan's allies. One raising a green lightsaber at the others-

Wait. A green lightsaber, wielded by a shadowed Twi'lek. No. No! That misbegotten, traitorous bastard cannot still be alive!

Rage, as turgid and torrid as the molten core of a star, fired to life in my heart. The Star Forge rallied around me-

-end him. end her. show your superiority-

Bastila was wildly thrown from my grip across the chamber as a snarl ripped from my vocabulator, buzzing against the ruin of my throat. That bastard Twi'lek had the temerity to bend knee, vow to hunt Revan's walking corpse down and eviscerate her if Bandon failed, yet now he was once more glued to her side-

-he will pay. she will pay. you are no longer first amongst followers, to be replaced at the fickle whim of an ex-lover. you are the master-

I was.

And my rage... my rage was useful, but it would own me only when I allowed it. That was one lesson Revan had taught me well. She is impotent. She is weak and imprisoned by my scrambler. I shall deal with her- with them- in due course.

The rage winked out to a slow-burning ember. I would fire it back up when required. But first, I had an apprentice to forge. And the destruction of a fleet to oversee.

"Show me the rest," I whispered. Touch made it easier, but surely I could delve into my apprentice's mind from across a mere room by now. The Force was mine to own. And Bastila would become the most prized tool in my arsenal.

I raised one black-clad hand toward Bastila's crumpled form. Her head lifted as my psychic probe once more entrenched upon her consciousness. It was getting easier. I was struck with the idle supposition on whether Force bonds could be created by such constant transgressions.

Wasn't that an intriguing thought? An enduring mind-link with my apprentice, who was indelibly connected to the spectre of my past. To think, I might even taste Revan's death through Bastila, and wouldn't that be sweet-

Bastila's psyche, once more, opened beneath my touch. Truly, it seemed like she wasn't even trying. Perhaps she had succumbed to the inevitable.

"Malak commands me to employ my battle meditation against all enemy ships that survive the scrambler's signal." Bastila's words atop the Lehon pyramid, cold and clear, as she raised a mental shield to separate her and Revan.

"I will not disobey Malak and suffer his wrath while you dither over an inconsequential number of lives. What the scrambler does not destroy, I shall." A narrowing of purpose, of anger, when she could not make her bond-partner listen. Oh, I recognized that emotion.

"If these Republic lives mean so much to you, then you best enter that snubfighter now and stop me yourself." The steel conviction in her words could have matched my old master's.

Bastila had come far.

"You are angry with her," I murmured, rifling through the end of their exchange. Revan didn't enter that doomed snubfighter. A pity, but Bastila's reaction was nothing short of delightful. "For she chose the Republic over you."

Bastila's eyes opened, a sharp gleam of tawny brown, glistening with emotion. Her chin lifted, and she stared back at me in trembling resentment. And it was not wholly directed at me.

The historical precedence of this moment! I knew it too well. This was a Revan I could easily vanquish. This was a Revan Bastila could turn away from.

"Come here, my apprentice."

There was a certain wariness in her wan countenance, but Bastila walked forward silently, stopping shy just within arm's reach. I could feel her inner struggle to suppress her emotions; a raw anger that battled over her brittle resolve.

It was that anger, familiar to me by now, but most certainly fledgling in its recipient, that made me hold back on the consequences Bastila did not yet realize. She had no awareness of the fallout on Lehon – and I saw that enlightenment was not required. Not at present. No, far better she clasp tight onto this delightful belligerence, and believe that Revan did not come out of a continued choice, rather than the lack of a working vessel.

"Bastila." I raised one hand to touch the side of her cheek gently. The black glove contrasted with her chalk-white skin. One day soon, the stipples of corruption would be visible amongst that youthful pallor. "We shall deal with Revan later. You know what the true threat is."

A flash of something dark sharpened her gaze before her eyelids fluttered closed. Her head dipped in a nod.

"The Star Forge is our bastion of defense against the Unknown Regions, little one. You and I both understand this. Perhaps, once, my old master did too, but now..."

I could feel that soft skin tense beneath my gloved fingertips. Her heart rallied in futile objection, even as her head listened. Bastila was on the path of becoming a truly great apprentice. I would have liked to smile down at her, to brush my lips tenderly against her forehead, but that was yet one more thing Revan had stolen from me.

"For now, she places the Republic first," I murmured. So sweet, to drive that shiv-blade in deeper. "First above all."

She will come for me. She- she must-

Bastila's head still bowed, and her thoughts edged with the hysteria of the desperate. Even she did not believe her own words anymore.

In due course, my apprentice. Let her hold onto that image of the snubfighter still safely snug on the pyramid's roof courtyard. Let her remain ignorant of the truth: that Revan was entirely trapped on a dead world. How gratifying, to think that the shell of my old master would be powerless, as the Republic Fleet was destroyed above her head. First, we must strike down those who seek to destroy us. You know what your next step is.

Brief images flashed like quicksilver through Bastila's mind, fleeting and almost too swift for me to grasp. Memories of her past, when Bastila had knelt in subservience, unleashing her gift under the watchful eye of a robed protector. Cloistered and guarded while her power was used.

"Your battle meditation leaves you exposed," I realized, my eyes narrowing. I had been waiting for this precious moment, waiting to taste the breadth of Bastila Shan's battle meditation that had been a thorn in my side for so long. And, now, her uneasiness caught me off-guard.

I was still hooked into her psyche, just enough that I caught the image of an indolent figure sauntering toward her, and the reactive disgust that pooled in her mind-

"Oh, Bastila." Another day, that show of vulnerability would irritate me. But, perhaps, even the keenest of tools required reassurance at times. "You have nothing to fear from Sharlan Nox. You are my Shadow Hand, my apprentice above all others. I will not leave you unguarded."

I stepped back from her, enjoying the way her near-golden gaze unerringly returned to me. With a tap on my wrist, I hailed the scourge of her thoughts.

"Sharlan, send two slayers to Bastila Shan's meditation chamber immediately. They will report to her."

::As you will, my lord.:: The man's insouciant drawl echoed from my personal communicator, and I saw Bastila's bloodless lips tighten in response.

"Oh, and one more thing," I murmured pleasantly, keeping my eyes fixed on Bastila. "Come within twenty metres of my apprentice and I shall rip out your entrails and wrap them around your neck."

There was a slight pause. A flash of something akin to satisfaction narrowed Bastila's gaze.

::I would not dream of displeasing you, my lord.::

The communicator clicked off with a faint whine. Bastila drew in an unsteady breath. "You think to place two of his- his pets here?" she squawked, and the heat of her tone bordered on defiance.

"Careful," I warned. "I act in your best interests, little one. Do you not realize that by now?"

She swallowed, but kept her chin aloft. "Master, I- I don't see how his- his playthings could adequately guard me."

"His pets are nothing more than batteries, Bastila. Just as Sharlan Nox is nothing more than a means to an end." My chosen Shadow Hand should not require such words. She had already shown her fire against the likes of Sharlan Nox; that she now quailed meant her use of battle meditation must leave her vulnerable indeed. It was, perhaps, something for me to remember. "The slayers I speak of are not Sharlan's, and you will find them enough of a guard should you be interrupted. Come, now. It is time to unveil your vaunted battle meditation."

Something firmed in her expression then; an inner resolve perhaps, a tightening of will to continue on the path I had chosen for her. This was one of Bastila's final steps, to turn on those she had once labelled allies, and the moment itself was as sweet as the memory of biting into a sun-ripened honey-pear.

Bastila nodded, turned from me, and sank to her knees.

I let my hands settle gently on her shoulders as her first tendrils of Force grasped slowly outward.

Show me, I repeated, sinking into her mind.

The Force pulled out from her like a spiderweb's lattice made of the finest titasteel. The power swelled, and I could feel the heart of the ancient kaiburr echo through me, to her, as our combined will spread through the walls of the Star Forge.

So strong, she murmured, as the alien power threaded through our joint grasp. Yes. My eyes had closed against the sensation, against the influx of energy as it caressed my soul. The Star Forge was a circular mass around us, threaded through with the occasional pinpricks of life that scurried like beetles in a sand-hill, wholly unaware of the titans standing above them with the power of the galaxy clutched in their fist.

Beyond, Bastila whispered, and then began to transcend from her body.

It started out the same as a deep meditation, but this... this part was new to me. This was my apprentice's vaunted gift. Such a rare talent, such a promise- and one that now belonged to me.

I could not see how to emulate her machinations of the Force, but I could follow.

Bastila spread herself thin, ever outward, dispersing her self until she was no more than a misting of intangible energy resting gently over a large circumference now extending into space. Her body was left behind, no more than organic dross, a limp figure in the very nexus of her realm. You are vulnerable in this state, I mused. There was a distracted murmur of agreement from my apprentice; her focus remained as fixed as her concentration.

Specks of life flared in clusters around the edges of our consciousness. Show me, I ordered once more, pausing as I considered a small array of entities. A snubfighter squad, I thought, formed up in readiness to execute my will. These are my men. Show me what you can do.

Her attention turned at my command, zeroing in to settle over the specified group. It was a strange, almost passive sensation, as foreign emotions fed back through to us, all too transitory to grasp.

It is like manipulating the clay of a utensil. She touched one life briefly before moving on. It flared a brighter spark than before. I can focus their mind, disperse unease and sharpen concentration. Their reflexes, their reaction time- all augmented.

Like an adrenal stimulant. One fleck in the squad was noticeably duller than the others. What if the clay is defective?

I felt Bastila pause to examine the deadened flare of light. I will have some effect on near-all sentients. The magnitude depends on how open they are. This one- he fights the limitations of his own flesh. Her presence pulsed, a gentle ripple in the fabric of the Force as she hovered over the life in question. I cannot entirely counteract the effects of too little sleep and an overindulgence in gree-spice. Her thought was laced with mild disgust. I had the sense that Bastila was experiencing more from each sentient she touched than I could see. As she drew back, the dull speck remained a sullied glow contrasting with the sharper lights in the squad. There is only so much I can do.

Weakness does not belong in my fleet. My displeasure rallied; from deep in my bones I could feel the promise of the Star Forge. I called, and it answered.

The kaiburr blazed. I surged forward. There was a flash of alarm from Bastila, a shudder in the matrix of threads held gently in her clasp.

That's too-

I shot forward, and pinched the light out.

-far too much-

A crash against the senses, a sharp recoil between us, a loss of control as the Force bucked wildly-

Rage at the unknown blazed into being, and I would halt this effect, for the Force answered to me-

But I was falling. Flying, drawn down into a vortex of plummeting power. Like a spring, pulled to its apex, before snapping shut with a crash.

There was a loud clap of sound. A slamming into something hard as the sensation abruptly stopped.

A residual dizziness slowly receded. The press of gravity under my feet, the confines of my flesh once more surrounding me. Eyes opening, I found myself standing, staring down at the fine, delicate braids that bedecked the back of my apprentice's head.

She was gasping. Her kneeling form shook with tremors of reaction.

"We must increase your capacity to wield power, little one," I observed, mildly displeased. "You lost control entirely."

"Cannot- cannot get too deep in the lives I touch," she whispered. "Might- might lose the way back." She drew in a shuddering breath, tilting her head sideways. I stepped around to look down at her. There was a hollow look in Bastila's eyes, and I wondered exactly how much of that feeble life she had experienced before it was snuffed out. "You- you killed that pilot."

The cast to her expression- it was surprise, I realized. Bastila had never envisaged such an execution was possible. Perhaps it was not, for her. My apprentice called upon the kaiburr, but she did not yet comprehend its full capabilities.

"You disapprove, my apprentice?" Surely, she was not still that soft-hearted. I had made her better than that.

"No." She blinked, and her body stiffened. "A sentient in that condition would be a liability to his own squad. He should not have entered a ship."

The correct answer gratified me. War was a numbers game, a calculation of odds, and Bastila was learning well. I glanced over to the far side of the meditation chamber, a muted curved wall of silver that faced the skies. With a flourish of my hand, four large panels dissolved into clear panes of translucency.

"This is our game board today, my apprentice. The Republic are due any moment, if the first wave is not already encroaching at the edges of Lehon space." The specks of my rallying snubfighter squads dotted the panorama in clusters of formation. All marks of my might. I wondered, idly, which group had just noticed one of their own careen out of control. "My scrambler will decimate the Republic advance, Bastila, but it is your responsibility to mop up any remnants that come close."

"I will not fail you, master." The words were low, but not subdued. "The Republic is nothing but a distraction to what we truly face."

"Good." A soft chime echoed from my wrist. Ahead, underneath a windowed-panel, lights on an inset console blinked. In the deep throes of space that yawned back at us, faint flashes of blaster fire flared into being.

My eyes lidded in anticipation. "It starts, little one. Focus on the Sith fleet. I want you to direct every shot my men aim at any ship capricious enough to evade my scrambler."

Bastila nodded, bowed her head, and reached out once more. This time, I did not follow.

It would be over quick, I thought, as I drew the Force in deep. Every death Bastila orchestrated would be another nail hammering her onto my path. She would never be able to turn back, nor did she even want to, at this stage. As for Revan...

That shall come after. The core of the Star Forge murmured agreement with me. I stared hard at the viewport. The flickers of light were pitiful, really. Every Republic starpilot out there was merely toiling against the inevitable, helpless as my scrambler aborted their sensors and my apprentice ensured their end. If I drew in deep enough, I could feel the faint echo of the kaiburr's child, that daughter crystal on nearby Lehon, as it pulsed disruption throughout the sector.

Out there on the fringes of my game board would be some of the Republic greats. Had the officers I'd once served with arrived yet? Adashan, Dodonna, Gant? The loss of Karath at Edean went beyond vexing, but this- ah. This would more than make up for it.

It truly was a moment to savour. Bastila's body knelt limply beside me as she enacted my will, and the victory today would be a cataclysmic blow against the crumbling Republic forces. Oh, there would be other battles as I drove my advance back into the heart of the galaxy, but taking out the three leaders listed in the intercepted Republic comms would send ripples of panic through my faltering enemies.

Nothing more to do but enjoy-

A shudder. An undulation, somewhere, searing through the Force. A flare, before a distant echo died abruptly, and suddenly all my senses dulled. A keening cry of loss from the kaiburr-

What? Four strides to the console. No. No, where is it? A tap on the keys. A message in red:

::EMP scrambler not available.::

Black rage followed quickly on the heels of alarm.

Revan. The name was a sibilant curse hissing through my mind. A poison seeping through again and again. Revan!

Instinct gathered the Force in, coiling tight, burning with need. The scrambler. The Lehon crystal. But how- how had she-

Another rap on the console. No link with Lehon, no connection to the daughter crystal. It was gone.

Fury was a scorching heat of hate. Revan. The Force was an influx of unsteady acrimony, a retaliation of fire from the kaiburr-

-the power is here. and it is yours-

I was turning around, ready to atomize anything in my path, rend it apart in reaction-

My gaze landed on Bastila. Kneeling, slack-formed, compliant and unaware. Cold. Cold, not hot. Use the hate. Feed it with Revan's death. Bastila wouldn't know, couldn't know. If she learned that Revan had somehow destroyed or disabled the first defence of the Star Forge-

Revan will travel here. She will use the recovering Fleet as cover, and travel in her freighter here.

-then my apprentice might once more be afflicted with a glimmer of hope.

The Republic cannot withstand my forces backed by Bastila's battle meditation.

I could not afford Bastila to weaken. Even now, Republic lives would be winking out beneath my apprentice's will.

I will deal with Revan myself. Perhaps I always knew it would be this way.

-you are the master. and this is your stronghold-

The desire to destroy still rose dominant, but I would use it with calculation until the endgame reached fruition. Battle droids. The slayers. The sheer might in the very heart of the Star Forge. Defences to be rallied that would make a mockery of Revan's rogue assault.

Revan thinks to challenge me on her own terms. Ah, let the crippled shell try! This was a flawed Revan, who knew not her power nor her past. That, I had clearly deduced from Bastila.

The rage simmered into a darkness that thrummed wildfire through my veins. This will be sweeter than her first death upon the Nexus. More satisfying than emasculating her on Lehon. Let Revan see her allies fall one by one, until I finally taste the gratification of tearing her heart out from her chest with my own hands.

Or- maybe I could install her as an impotent conduit of the kaiburr itself, right next to those lifeless pets.

The supposition was entertaining, but- no. No. It ends here, today. No more shall Revan be a blight upon me, ghost-shell or otherwise. I will end her, along with any idiot asinine enough to follow in her wake.

My footsteps echoed as I strode to the exit. The hatch was bordered on either side by a Force-blind assassin now, the two slayers I had called in earlier. There were others, elsewhere in the Forge, awaiting my orders. Somehow, I doubted that Revan remembered them.

And the kaiburr itself... Revan had never uncovered all of its secrets. I, already, drew in greater power than she had once understood.

Come to me, Revan. So many times had she escaped death. Not any longer. I am waiting.

And you have exhausted all of your lives.

xXx

Jordo Merrix:

"Kappa Three is down," Fulmosh reported. He shifted on the co-pilot's chair, one hand hovering over the comm. "He shouldn't have turned the blasted sensors back on."

I could feel a hard grimace twisting my face. My grip stayed firm on the steering column. "Squad-wide channel on my mic, Fulmosh. Now!"

On our flank, Zeta squad was flailing like a nest of ash-rabbits scattering from an encroaching kath hound. I'd seen two of our ships crash into each other, and felt the pained flinch from Fulmosh every time he reported another one down.

"It's ready, sir," Fulmosh muttered, and the pilot's mic blinked in recording mode.

"Kappa Squad, this is Captain Merrix," I bit out, canting to the left as a snub careened wildly across our trajectory. "Stay on manual control! Until we get confirmation from the Meridus, we are all flying manual. We've trained for this, troops. Get to the frontlines, and target those blasted Sith!"

We weren't close to the enemy marks, not yet. We hadn't even reached Adashan's cursed fleet. They were further ahead, clustered around our final objective, engaging directly with the enemy. Although if what the Meridus had reported was truth, then this damn scrambler was affecting us all. I didn't have read-outs on the status of our armada, but the current silence from Meridus command was ominous.

Adashan's flagship, the Lightstar, was a granite slug far in the distance. Swarmed by flecks of Sith fighters. Without nav-data, it was all guess-work – but my gut told me the general's heavy cruiser was one leap shy from turning into space dust.

Somewhere behind us, in the thick of Dodonna's forces, someone else was captaining the newly refurbished Ruby's Claw. I'd had the option of keeping that baby; stars knew, I had a greater chance of survival in the better-armoured frigate. The tow and repair from Kashyyyk had concluded in the nick of time; half a day longer and I'd have missed the rendezvous with the Meridus. After all that'd happened, Commodore Tar'coya assumed I'd stay with the 'Claw – but I'd known where my place was.

I'd spent my life fighting and winning as a Wing Commander, and this might be the most crucial battle yet.

"Incoming ping," Fulmosh muttered. I was half-aware of him leaning forward over the secondary nav-console. "Don't recognize the source. It's- er, it's broadcasting on all frequencies. Should I pick it up?"

Transmit like that, it had to be some sort of morale-sapping taunt from the bastards out there. Like they needed another damn edge.

"Order the squad not to receive." I felt my teeth grit. Stang, does it really matter if I hear it? "Then play the damn message."

Fulmosh muttered a curt command into the mic, before tapping hard on the console. A crackly, audio-only message echoed throughout the cockpit.

I tensed, ready for the worst-

::This is Captain Carth Onasi of the Ebon Hawk. The scrambler has been destroyed. I repeat, to all available Republic forces: the scrambler is confirmed down.::

The jolt of recognition hit me a sec before the meaning of the message registered. Carth, you old kath hound! A punch of visceral glee burned in my gut. You got the blasted scrambler! "Activate the nav-computer," I growled. "Quick, Fulmosh, see if he's right!"

Before my co-pilot even had a chance, another transmit overrode our comm.

::All Wing Leaders revert to automatic ship-control and engage the enemy.:: The iridescent sphere of a hologram flickered on the nav-stand. I didn't have to look down; I recognized the slurring tones of Tar'coya immediately. He was one of few who could force a message over any sort of acceptance protocol. ::The EMP scrambler has been confirmed as destroyed. Inform your squads, and haul arse to the frontlines!::

An array of lights blinkered dizzyingly on the dash, before settling into familiarity beneath Fulmosh's expert hands.

"It's back," Fulmosh breathed. He leaned forward, fingers dancing over the dials and read-outs. "All sensors online. Targeting module ready. Hyperdrive back. We're- we're good to go!"

I jammed the pilot's mic back on squad-wide broadcast. "Scrambler is down! All pilots, switch back to auto now!"

"I can see the others rallying," Fulmosh muttered. "Zeta's following us, with Upsilon and Chi right behind. We're the vanguard, sir."

"Then let's show them how to scythe through enemy lines." My eyes narrowed as I spoke once more through the comm. "Kappa squad, full power to thrusters and form up in echelon formation. We're leading Dodonna's fleet. Let's make her proud!"

"Boosting aft shields." Fulmosh retracted the turbolaser module, hands resting firmly on the targeting joystick. He was an expert gunner; one of the reasons I'd hand-picked him as my co-pilot. "We'll hit the first Sith bastards in thirty seconds."

Our snub shot forward, at the apex of the formation Kappa squad had trained in countless times before. There were twelve of us left; a brief glance to the nav-chart assured me the empty spots left by Three, Four and Eight had been adequately filled. Behind us, Zeta squad mirrored our stance.

"Six bogeys at the forefront."

"I see 'em," I muttered. The vast bulk of the Sith armada was kilometres ahead, but we'd be striking the stragglers at the forefront any second now. "Kappa Two and Five, follow me in a starboard roll. The rest of you hit them straight on!"

Fulmosh hummed under his breath; a reedy noise of anticipation I'd heard countless times. I waited a span of painful seconds until the bogeys were almost within range, then pitched the snub into a barrel roll.

I barely felt the G forces as adrenaline coursed fire through my veins.

Snapping out of the roll, we came out directly underneath the bastards.

"Lock!" Fulmosh cried in exultation, jamming hard on the turbolasers. "That'll be him down- stang!"

His squawk of protest told me all I needed to know. "Focus," I rapped out, angling the nose of the fighter up. There were another two, bearing directly down on us. Red laser spat from our guns; the two marks dived in opposite directions, and the fire of our bolts seared uselessly into black space.

Damn evading bastards! "Leave the bogeys for Zeta squad!" I ordered into the mic. "Follow me, we're going in deeper!"

"Another eight coming in from aft-starboard," Fulmosh growled. I could hear the pissyness in his voice. He didn't like missing. "I'm gonna slam the first one with a missile."

"Only on a sure hit," I muttered, even though I knew Fulmosh wouldn't waste our limited concussion torpedoes. I canted sideways, and there- Adashan's heavy cruiser was visible again, and beyond- the powerhouse we were all aiming for. The massive factory of the blasted Sith. "Get ready."

Fulmosh hummed again; I yanked the snub up and the enemy squad sprang into view.

"Lock!" Fulmosh yelled again, a sec after a missile streaked forth. Faster than a fighter at full throttle, no mark could dodge a guided projectile at this range-

"Dammit all!" Fulmosh cursed, even as he fired another salvo of lasers at the dispersing marks as they all plummeted out of view. "How can they be that quick?"

"You winged one." I'd seen the spark of fire against a Sith's wing, but it looked no more than a glancing blow. "They're underneath us now. See if they're doubling back or engaging our ships behind."

The view ahead turned ominous. Dozens of alien craft lay between us and Adashan's embattled fleet, and more still swarmed all over the Republic front.

"Kappa Five's down. Nine's critical," Fulmosh snapped out. The thin note of displeasure in his shrill inflection was readily obvious. "Four bogeys are circling around on our tail. I'm balancing the shields."

"Hold steady," I warned, spinning the snub into another dive. The stabilizers groaned in complaint; I pulled the ship out, and straight into-

The burn of red splattered against the viewport. The ship bucked violently, alarms screamed, and I wrenched the steering column straight up. "Status!" I hollered, before jerking the snub starboard.

"Shields down to twenty! Aft stabilizer's pinging low! It's like those bastards knew where we were coming out!"

"Lucky shot is all," I growled as I levelled the snub's trajectory. "And now it's our turn!"

I didn't have to tell him; Fulmosh released another missile the instant a mark swam into view. Even the screech of the discordant alarm didn't dampen my vicious pull of triumph as the Sith turned into a brief flare of orange.

But not before it'd released its own retaliation-

My gut churned as I rolled the ship again; laser fire spat past the viewport harmlessly, missing us by scant metres. Fulmosh was hot on the turbos again, firing wildly as we came out of the barrel, only to face a line formation of three enemy Sith.

Three missiles were already flaring-

Stang! I wrenched hard on the steering again, reminding myself that Kappa Two was still on my tail, and the rest of the squad right behind him.

Yet even with the friendly fire coasting past us as we dropped low, I already knew it was too late-

xXx

Revan Freeflight:

"Second diagnostic's cleared," I confirmed, skimming rapidly through lines of successive nav-data. Victory was riding me, riding us all like a stim high; each confirmation of success punching the visceral satisfaction up another notch. It was fleeting, I knew, when compared to all we still had to face – but I'd take my joy where I could. "No residual issues from the scrambler. All systems are humming."

Carth made a non-committal noise deep in his throat. There was a shadowing of permacrete stubble on his jaw, and his rich chestnut hair was ruffled, as if he'd been throwing his hands through it more than usual. All those little characteristics had become so intensely personal, so poignantly familiar to me, somewhere along the line.

When I granted myself leave to dwell on my own memories, the soul-baring truth was that the events from the Endar Spire onwards made the bulk of it. Carth – his presence, his companionship, his growing affection – was my one constant since I'd woken with a blinding headache in a dingy Tarisian apartment. He was the anchor grounding me through the turmoil of my splintered life.

Carth's attention remained pinned on the darkening azure sky. I glanced down to the nav-map; miniature specks of company flared into existence as we rose, yet another indication of the ship's sensors feeding accurate data through to the nav-computer.

I'd thrown the auto-systems back on, seconds after that proton torpedo had slammed home under Carth's manual guidance. As soon as the first electronic lights blinkered across the dash, he'd been hot on the comm.

The 'Hawk had strafed the pyramid first in preparation; a gunning run for our turbolasers to gut deep into the foundations. The outer layer of metallic skin had peeled back from the Rakatan relic, exposing the vulnerable bowels on one side as the upper framework crashed inward. I'd wanted at least one more strafing run – we only had one damn chance, one sole torpedo, and so much was weighing on the outcome-

But Carth had flat-out ignored me. He'd had an intent cast to his features, a stilling to his body, as if he'd sensed the moment was upon him and was now reaching out to grasp it with an expert hand.

As if he'd been in the zone. I've heard this before. Somewhere. A feeling, a voice, some blind knowledge from my past. Pilots, gunners, and soldiers- they talk about that moment, when time itself seems to crystallize. When the target gets bigger and bigger, and it's like nothing can make you miss-

The only thing I could compare it to was the Force.

...it works through us all, Jedi and non-Jedi alike.

Karon's words to me, once. Maybe she was right- or maybe it was simply a starpilot's life worth of experience and mental discipline at play.

The Republic hadn't answered our call, not yet. We had no clue if anyone above had even picked up the transmit. They could all be running manual up there, heavily disadvantaged from a lack of nav-sensors and self-correcting targeting modules, not to mention Bastila's battle meditation-

"How long can you keep this up?" Jolee broke through my mental tirade, a muttered voice from behind, stationed in the cockpit's third seat. For once, he sounded entirely neutral.

I sighed. "As long as I have to," I replied grimly.

Cut off from the Force. Yet again, I was employing Dustil's trick that baffled Jedi and Sith alike. Everything felt dull, slow, dreary – safe.

For there was no bond, shielded or otherwise, lurking like a cursed vulnerability in my head. Not until I was ready to reach out for it.

"Dustil has to do the same," I continued. "Even when we land on the Forge. If that place is anything like the frelling pyramid, he has to keep his mind guarded-"

"Revan." Carth's voice cut through my impassioned words, words he'd already heard me pitch directly to his son. "You have to- you have to promise me something."

I glanced sideways to scan his profile, handsome face set as it stared fixedly into Lehon's upper atmosphere. The first sparks of distant blaster fire were dawning into view, now; hundreds of kilometres away. Fleets of ships, echoed by the blinking telemetry on the dash. I didn't look down to count them.

"What?" I'd promise him anything if I could- if I could.

"Promise me you'll get out of there alive."

A barbed jolt of emotion seared through me. Carth didn't turn, merely kept his grim attention fixed on the viewport. Glancing wildly over my shoulder, I could see Jolee raising his hands in mock surrender.

"Eh, don't mind me. My old ears don't hear much these days," he muttered, in an obtuse attempt to grant us some privacy. "And what they do my mind scrambles anyway. Just make like I'm not even here."

My face was hot. My heart stuttered. How the frell could I promise something like that? "Carth-"

"Promise me."

The low, simmering words sounded like they'd been torn from him, and completely blind-sided any train of thought I might have had. Oh, Carth-

A discordant beep sounded from the nav-console. An incoming transmit, shattering the charged moment, as welcome as a Hutt in a communal sonic.

"You gave HK orders for a transfer of ownership in the event of your death," Carth ground out. One hand lifted from the steering column to rest gently next to the nav-comm. "I don't know what's going through your head, Revan, but I'm worried once you're up there you'll let your guilt convince you to do something stupid. Promise me you'll get out of there alive."

I swallowed thickly. It was hard to know what truth there was to his words. HK- well, HK's message was wholly unrelated. I didn't plan on sacrificing myself – not unless it was necessary – but I also didn't envisage myself walking away from the Star Forge intact.

Oh, I could believe in victory, yes; find Bastila, shake some damn sense into her, stand off against Malak-

And then, what? Kill my once lover, that colossal fragment from my torn past, and walk blithely away while the Republic destroyed my old superweapon? I couldn't- I simply couldn't see the shape of that future.

Carth wasn't going to let it drop, though. That was evident, in the square of his jaw, the clenched knuckles of his gloved hands. I'd always respected his tenacity, even when turned against me.

The nav-console beeped again, twice, and I just knew Carth was going to sodding well ignore it until I produced the answer he desired.

And I owe him. So much.

I blinked back the stinging moisture that blurred in my vision. "I- I'll promise." My voice hitched. "If you promise something in return."

"Revan-"

"Hear me out," I blurted in a rush. "Carth, you lost your planet, your wife, your son... we may not have had many heart-to-hearts, you and I, even in all this time together... but I'm smart enough to know you stopped living after Telos. If I don't make it out, Carth – and, dammit, you have to acknowledge that's a possibility – then I need you to live. To show Dustil what it's like to live, to move on, to be sodding happy-"

I halted, mid-sentence, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. The silence lay thick between us, and I could feel my fists squeezing tight- if there was one personal desire I yearned for out of this whole mess, it was Carth's happiness-

He didn't say anything. I wondered, wildly, if such a vow was just as difficult for him. His jaw had firmed at the mention of his son, and a life-time's worth of reading people whispered to me that Dustil- Dustil is the angle I can use to secure his compliance.

Even in a moment like this, so fraught with heartfelt sentiment, I felt myself flinch at the machination of my own perception.

I said the words anyway. "You know Dustil lost a girl on Korriban," I whispered. "He used to blame Mekel... but he blames himself, now. Blame, self-guilt – it can be soul destroying." The next sentence felt so hard to force out. "I promise I'll do everything I can to make it out. Promise me you'll do more than just survive if I don't."

Carth turned, finally. His eyes were black with emotion, and slowly- so slowly- his head dipped in a nod. "I promise," he breathed. My heart clenched in my chest. No matter what happened, at least I had that intangible vow to bolster me. Carth's gaze held mine firm, as if we had all the time in the galaxy-

The corner of his mouth quirked. "We'd better- uh, you might want to move out of line of the holo-cam."

His hand was hovering over the receive button. My lips curved in a distant echo of a smile as I shunted myself sideways. A second later, the nav-comm sprang to life, illuminating an iridescent figure in shades of blue and white.

::Carth.:: The greeting shot through the speakers, crisply uttered from the image of an older Human woman. She was capped with a formal military hat, and her shoulders were adorned with admiral pips. Face lined with age, and gaze both sharp and intelligent. She didn't look remotely familiar. ::Captain. We have the Ebon Hawk on our sensors.::

"Admiral," Carth acknowledged. I could hear the warmth in his voice. "You got my message."

::Yes.:: There was an arch to the woman's mouth; no more than a slight twitch, really. I had the strange feeling it was the woman's version of a joyful grin. ::The whole fleet did. Both sides, I'd wager. Good job. You will fly straight-::

Carth threw me a wild glance.

::-to the Meridus, coming in to-::

Oh, sod it all. Really, I'd known it would come to this.

::-land at the alpha docking bay-::

I cleared my throat, loudly, leaning back into the projection field of the 'Hawk's holo-cam. The moment she saw me, the admiral's words halted mid-speech. Like a shutter slamming over a moisture-lock, her expression turned dark. Thin mouth, pinching tight, into a line of something that far superseded censure.

"Admiral," I said in a forcibly neutral tone. Carth stiffened next to me, and I could just imagine the black look of exasperation plastered all over his face.

There was a slight pause as the Republic officer regarded me through dangerously narrowed eyes. ::Jen Sahara,:: she bit out at last. The words were more than glacial; they were dripping in black ice. ::I'd label you a wanted criminal, but that is akin to naming a loose rancor a trifling nuisance.::

I had to force back a wholly inappropriate grin. The admiral's distaste aside, I admired her presence of mind. I had no idea who was listening in on her periphery, but she was, at least, circumspect enough not to name me – despite her obvious desire to.

I found myself liking her, and wondered if the contrary emotion was a figment from my past; if this experienced officer was someone I'd once worked with- or against-

Hardly the moment to dwell on it, bonehead! The admiral's recriminations, justified as they were, simply had to wait. It was time. It was time to go to Malak.

"We need an escort to the Star Forge," I began. Kept the words cool, neutral – calm. I could feel my chest tightening in self-castigation as I considered what I was about to impart next – but I had to lay the truth bare. I couldn't ignore this threat. The Republic couldn't. "Bastila Shan has vowed to unleash her battle meditation on our forces until I set foot on that place. I'm the only one who can stop her."

The admiral's jaw worked. ::Our forces,:: she growled in disbelief. ::You have the unmitigated gall to request an aided transport to the Star Forge? Did the Order completely scramble your mind, or do you merely take us for braindead imbeciles?::

Carth leaned forward, nudging me roughly in the side. "Admiral-"

::Bastila Shan.:: My bond-sister's name came from elsewhere – from a creaky, high-pitched voice that preceded its owner. The admiral frowned as a short figure hobbled into the holo-image. ::Feel her strength already, I can. Did not know, perhaps did not wish to admit, what I was feeling.::

It took me a second to place the newcomer. Vandar Tokare. The little green Jedi Master from that seemingly useless holo-transmit, the one Carth'd pulled me in to watch back on Lehon. Vandar had been one of three who'd awaited me on Kashyyyk, who'd made Zhar Lestin fear for the safety of my mind.

::This is Fleet business,:: the admiral forced out. Her lined face was implacable, but I could hear the irritation burring her voice. ::You are on shaky ground already, Vandar. Do not presume to interfere here.::

::Forn. Allow us a moment.:: The Jedi's voice was gentle. ::Check on your forces, you should. Confirm the truth of this, for it may yet change everything.::

The admiral's head turned slowly back to appraise me, and like a shot of spice, I suddenly knew her name. Forn. Admiral Forn Dodonna. Carth's admiral. The one who'd dispatched Carth to the Endar Spire. A high-ranking member of the brass – the officer in charge of the mighty Meridus.

In a way, I was surprised she still allowed a Jedi Master to set foot on her command deck.

::Don't even think of doing anything,:: she told me in a dark voice, before swinging her gaze on Carth. ::Captain, a squad of fighters are enroute to flank you. They have orders to fire should you deviate from your trajectory. I shall return in a moment.::

"Admiral, you must-" Carth cut himself off mid-sentence at the woman's upraised hand. She shot me another glare that dripped with dark suspicion, before moving out of sight.

Carth heaved an exasperated sigh. "You should've stayed out of sight," he muttered quietly under his breath. "Blast it, Revan, have you no sense of self-preservation left?"

I ignored him, leaning forward to eyeball the Jedi Master. His large blue eyes peered back soulfully. "Vandar Tokare," I said softly. There was no sense of familiarity. Stars, there'd been none in that inane holo-message, either, but maybe I'd been hoping it would be different, in a real-time conversation. "How well did we know each other?"

The master's wrinkled head cocked. ::A handful of times only, we have met. Know each other, truly, we do not – other than what the Force shows us.:: His small mouth rounded into a gentle smile. ::The Force shows me a Jedi Knight. One that stands firm, no matter the darkness that has been.::

I stilled, staring at the bright-eyed alien. I felt a sudden regret, then, for storming out halfway through that holo-comm. I'd not exactly been in the mood to listen to what I considered little more than Jedi-waffle. Stars, I didn't think I ever had been.

But now, I wondered if there might have been some wisdom, something of use, deeper in that message. If I'd only had the patience to see it out, the foresight to hold back my reckless urge to flee. In hindsight, it seemed – pointless, really – for a master like Vandar to fire off a patronizing comm with no ulterior motive. Perhaps his counsel would have been bolstering, if I'd only taken the time to listen. After all, Yudan had said-

My thoughts stilled.

"One of my crewmates told me you're seen as a pillar of the Jedi Order itself." My words were slow, considering. The complete manifest of our freighter was unlikely to be known, unless Carth had spilled the beans in a previous transmit. Somehow, despite having every reason to, I rather thought he hadn't. We were all being granted second chances, here; every single Force-user onboard the Ebon Hawk.

::Many pillars is the Order made of,:: the little master returned. He was impossible to read. Much like his old padawan. ::Precious, each one-::

"He also said that of all the sents in the galaxy," I spoke loudly over him, "Your counsel might be worth him seeking out."

He stopped talking. His eyes widened, ever so slightly.

"Assuming, of course, that we survive all of this," I finished wryly.

Vandar was budged to the side as the admiral returned. ::It's confirmed.:: Dodonna's burr was laced with distaste. Vandar was still staring at me, but the admiral didn't notice. ::Adashan's reporting overwhelming casualties at the front, and this is after they've regained control of their systems. My ships are closing in, but from the shape of it-::

She bit the words back, as if suddenly realizing exactly who she was talking to. Deep trenches of displeasure bracketed her thin mouth. Dodonna didn't need to complete the sentence, though. It's going to be a rout. Surely, she'd seen the effects of Bastila's battle meditation before.

Vandar's little head had dropped in a silent nod of acknowledgement. Message received. I had no idea if Yudan would curse me or thank me for such interference – the former, if I had to lay creds somewhere – but at least his old master knew of his survival. And, perhaps, had some inkling to his current state of mind.

"We need to stop Bastila." Carth was leaning forward again, allowing the 'Hawk to run on auto-pilot as he stared intently at his superior. Blinking ominously on the nav-chart, I could spot the squad of snubs moving into position around us. "We're the only ones who can. We're the only ones she'll let close to the Star Forge, Admiral – if we can clear the Sith fleet."

"I can get to her," I added. The desire to reach out was there. What if I could stop Bastila now, right here, before she downed even more starfighters that she'd later hate herself for?

But what if Malak sensed me? What if, with the strength of the Forge behind them, they could incapacitate me before I even came close?

There is no other choice. I had to retrace my old steps, to the nexus of my past evil. I'd always known that. My chin lifted, and the next words I spoke rang with the steel of conviction. "I can get to her. I can make her listen. I might even convince her to work with us again."

The admiral's eyes flashed with dislike. ::Ignoring the absurdity of allowing you back on that Star Forge, if Bastila Shan has allied herself with Darth Malak, why in the blazes would she permit you to board?::

"Because she's not loyal to Malak." I had to hope that was true. My heart said it was, but my head pointed out that loyalty was not always black and white. Particularly in the case of Bastila Shan. My eyes closed in a brief flurry of despair. "Bastila wants me to take Malak out and reclaim my past. She believes in a greater danger- a greater peril- something worse to threaten the galaxy. What spurred me on in the first place."

::Well, that's tempting,:: the admiral snapped, in a sarcasm I suspected wholly uncharacteristic to her. ::Your skill at persuasion is hardly what it once was, Jen Sahara. I see little point in continuing this conversation.::

But she was still listening. That counted for something. "I want to see the Forge destroyed as much as you, Admiral. I-"

::This threat you mentioned. What exactly-:: the words rapped out, each one as hard and cold as ice-crystals. ::-is it?::

The all-consuming question. "I don't know. I don't- remember-" I quelled back a bitter laugh that threatened to spill. "It's actually not important right now. Destroying the Star Forge is. And to do that, you need to get me there first. Let me take care of Bastila. Malak, too. I'll keep him occupied. You focus on blowing that cursed thing up, whether we're on it or not."

Her eyes had narrowed to slits. ::Trust me, Jen Sahara, your survival would not impact my judgment one way or the other.::

Had I ever worked with the damn woman? Her burning acrimony should drive me to a like-minded flare of enmity, or even the same old morass of shame- but, instead, I felt a solid core of respect for her. It didn't make sense. I must have worked alongside the admiral in the past. Some part of me- once more dredging up the emotions of a forgotten life.

"I can stop Bastila," I urged again. "Convince her, or force her through our bond. First chance you get, target the damn factory and wipe it from the face of our galaxy."

::Destiny,:: Vandar murmured. I wasn't sure if he was beseeching Dodonna as well, but his bright gaze stayed on mine. ::The shape of destiny, this has. Save Bastila, you will, as she once saved you.::

"Admiral, I believe in Revan," Carth said. He was an idiot for naming me when the others had so clearly avoided any mention, but my heart warmed at his words regardless. "We all do, everyone onboard with us. Get us to the Forge, and let us play our part. Let's end this war."

"I won't make the same mistake," I uttered in a softer voice. The look on the admiral's face said that hardly mattered, in the grand scheme of things. Perhaps she was right, but the words tumbled out regardless. "Nothing can convince me to walk down my old path."

A dark prescience stirred in my mind. Words like that were so easy to express, to believe in, when facing the true evil from a distance. But my expression remained resolute as I stared the stone-faced admiral down.

::I am little concerned whether it is you or Malak fashioning yourself as a cloaked harbinger of doom,:: she muttered. Her lips pursed, then, and I could almost see the infernal debate waging war within her mind. ::I care about winning this war. Halting the destruction of Malak. Returning peace to the galaxy you sundered.::

::Believe in Jen Sahara also, do I,:: Vandar murmured at her side. He'd turned, finally, to stare up at the older Human. ::A pragmatic leader you are, Forn. The way forward, this is, to break through Bastila's battle meditation. Force or not, you can see this must be our chosen path.::

There was a slight loosening to Dodonna's shoulders, a deepening of the furrows on her brow. ::Tell me you have some plan for getting through to the docks,:: she said, and in that moment, I tasted the hot rush of another victory. Ephemeral, maybe, but things were finally slotting into place. We had a way forward. ::For I cannot conceive of how you mean to land without being shredded into space dust.::

"They'll be on the lookout for the Ebon Hawk. Bastila will do what she can to ensure our survival." Furious at me or not, she hardly had any other choice. "At the last minute, we'll diverge our course to a hidden docking bay."

Carth cleared his throat. "There's three small landing docks, Admiral, that aren't noted on the schematics. We believe at least one of them is open."

::Where?:: she demanded, leaning forward once more.

And as the conversation narrowed into a series of short commands and sharp nods of agreement, the warmth in my soul stayed constant. The Republic would get me to the Star Forge. The Republic I had championed, I had loved- I had betrayed.

Whatever victory I- we- could pull out from this wouldn't erase the past, and nor would the Republic owe me anything bar a public execution, but the thought didn't concern me as much as it should. They were leading me to the Star Forge, to Bastila, to Malak- and that was all that mattered.

xXx

Author's Note:
Coming up next: Defences of the Star Forge are rallied, and the Ebon Hawk touches down.

An echelon formation's worth of thanks to kosiah for the beta.