Nexus: Dissonance


Sharlan Nox:

Precognition was no more than a pleasing adjective some liked to name their own desires. The Force could warn of the present, but the future? No. I'd always known my innate power would shape my fate, but it could not foretell it.

Still, the moment Yudan Rosh landed on the snubfighter facing me, I'd seen the shape of his future.

It was a blinding flash of truth, as bright as the transparisteel shards that rained down on my head, as clear as the firestorm of lifeblood roaring at my command.

Yudan Rosh would be mine. Famed duellist the muscled warrior might be, but I had never fed so quickly and so deeply – and from such relatively strong specimens.

The Force peaked, and I would soon have this notorious pawn kneeling meekly at my side. He was both a pretty man, and a strong one – two characteristics I prized when it came to my fleshlings.

Oh, I would drink my fill of his strength. Then, and only then, would I hand his submissive carapace over to the master that had taught me so much more than any other – but one whose bridle was beginning to chafe.

My certainty of his fate began to fade the moment his booted heel smashed into my knee.

I staggered, ducking out of reach from a swift overhand, but it meant my feet scrabbled for purchase along the edge of the snubfighter-

I launched backward into the air, blindly, drawing the Force tight around a kneecap that I feared was dislocated. My landing on the ground below was steady, at least, but I detested the throb of pain that reminded me even I still had physical limitations.

I did not like my own pain. I had never revelled in it the way so many dark-sided scions seemed to. And, today, I had been forced to wade through far too much of it already.

My head snapped up, my lightsaber raised, and Yudan Rosh was right there with another blistering attack.

I danced back, out of reach, left hand curling in the eddies of power at my behest. A nearby supply crate fired at the Twi'lek like a rocket.

His 'saber struck, fast and fierce, smashing the inanimate object aside. Another lunge of his weapon deflected my next missile of debris, and then he was advancing on me again.

The Force surged at my whim, a tidal wave of compression that punched outward- power cresting high, but not quite as magnificent as before. Yudan skidded back a step, but otherwise did not falter the way I expected him to.

And in my belly, the gnawing void that was never quite slaked growled in growing hunger.

Fool. My master's rebuke burned scornfully through my mind. Had you not spent so much of your strength flaunting your regeneration to a null, Yudan Rosh would be yours now.

The voice was nothing more than a psychic imprint. My master was tucked away safely from this place. But, still, the truth in that echo was painfully accurate.

Yudan Rosh must have sensed something, too, for his sharp eyes narrowed as he strode in close, green lightsaber striking forward in a hard jab.

I slammed it aside, blocked his next riposte, and the next- but then my weapon slipped and a bronzed fist came sailing out of nowhere to smash into my face.

Something crunched. Pain burst like a pregnant tach squashed beneath the claw of a katarn. I bellowed as nerve-endings screamed, and only the Force saved me from a fatal right-hander as I tossed myself back into the air.

I went up, high, away- feeling the apex of my power slowly bleed out in a Force-enhanced leap even Yudan Rosh couldn't match. Backwards over the second of four starships, and when I finally landed, it was with less grace than I appreciated.

Thumping on my arse like banal trash. I lifted a hand to my broken nose, and it came away bloodied.

I cared as little for anger as I did for pain, and now I was being forced to endure both.

I will make the pretty Twi'lek weep in the end. The metallic tang in my mouth was both puerile and disgusting. With a flash of uncommon temper, I felt this encounter suddenly flex personal. Yudan Rosh, and his fleeing allies, had thwarted me long enough. My master will not allow me to keep the man indefinitely, but there is no reason he has to be so pretty when finally I hand him over-

I sensed him clear the curve of the snubfighter's bow, and in the same instant I was back on my feet. The Force churned through the room, billowing around us both in equal fists of power, and I shucked away the liability of my own anger to focus instead on what was truly important: survival.

For there was no reason I had to claim the man today.

I played the game of life and death differently to those infantile mortals I surrounded myself with, and I would not risk myself purely for a shot at revenge. No, far better to take this one when he did not expect my bite – for I could sense when the scales of a battle were beginning to tip against me.

One day my strength would not wane so precipitously after the high of a feed. One day, the galaxy would be nothing more than a trillion collared pets waiting to be consumed.

The Force is not your only weapon, my master's echo snapped in disapproval. You allow your hunger to turn you myopic. You know the man's weakness. So manipulate it!

True. Perhaps today could still be a victory.

"Is my corpse to be a present for Revan?" I drawled, as the Twi'lek stalked closer. "After all you have suffered at her hands, you are still just her tame hound, aren't you?"

I'd hoped for a surge of emotion to rattle his attack, but Yudan's opening flurry was precise and swift. I backpedalled, darting out of range.

"Will you get a pat on the head?" I taunted, lurching back from a powerful lunge. "Or have you slithered your way further? I was her apprentice once. I remember how she rewarded the faithful."

A bald-faced lie, but surely that would stoke his ire. Surely-

He said nothing, but instead scythed his blade in an upwards sweep that caught along the edges of my tunic. I hissed, jumping out of reach, back thudding into the chrome of the hangar wall.

"Does she taste as sweet as she used to, Yudan?" I snarled, as my equilibrium threatened to break. Run, my instincts roared, but the wall was at my back and he was right there, blocking any retreat. Run- "Did you like her better as the Dark Lord or-"

The man didn't pause, and my parry was too weak to hold his lightsaber back.

There was a second's delay, between him cleaving a chunk of flesh clean from my shoulder, and the scalding punch of pain that staggered me to the side.

A howl tore unbidden from my lungs. I slipped sideways against the wall, lightsaber dropping, my sword-arm on fire, seeing the end of my time come barrelling closer in the form of a green lightsaber-

An echo of someone else's end screamed through the Force. Two echoes- two intense ripples of energy that slammed through us both like twin meteors plummeting through an atmosphere while they burned themselves out.

Then, they faded into nothing.

My vision blurred, and the green plasma in front of me shook. Behind it, Yudan's head jerked sharply to stare in horror somewhere at the ceiling, and all colour drained from his face.

"Revan." His voice was cracked and hoarse. "No. No!"

Now, fool!

What was left of my Force rushed in as raw, brutal strength.

I dropped to a crouch, dove forward, and tackled the warrior around the knees.

He fell back, and we thudded to the ground in a tangle of limbs.

I pounced. One hand slammed his forearm back, wrenching the reach of his lightsaber out of harm's way and smashing his wrist-comm in the process.

My other hand belted a fist straight into his temple.

I drew back swiftly and repeated the blow, feeling my knuckles crunch against the side of his head. There was a soft clank as his lightsaber rolled from limp fingers before winking out.

Do not tarry, you insouciant oaf! Entrench your victory while-

Sometimes, I detested the echo of her leash.

I struck out with a multitude of psychic fingers. There was more than one way to drain a pet, but I chose the easy, shallow method first. Force to master Force; Force to draft it back to me. Enough to dull the edge of my pain, enough to shatter his mental guards and leave him ripe for the taking.

Yudan Rosh twitched beneath my thighs, and his mental guards rallied in defense – but the man was knocked out cold.

The throb in my knee disappeared. Crimson blood dropped from my face to land on his, but my broken nose no longer pained me. The shoulder- well, that was a deeper injury, but I would see to it later. I had a psyche to break, first.

I felt my lips curve in a smile.

The day had been a rather bothersome collection of setbacks. The squall of alarms warned of the Star Forge's demise, which meant my opportunity for breaching the station's secret heart might be gone forever. And it seemed that Revan had finally fallen to Malak. I'd had a vague preference for the reverse, as I'd not planned to stay in the Dark Lord's orbit for much longer, and he had an annoying tendency to track down those he considered traitors.

But the ripe insult had been the null who'd shot me, and his Force-sensitive titbit of a son who'd done the same – after leading me on a merry chase.

When I considered the scarring the boy had left behind on my scalp, I knew that one day I would sniff out his trail again.

But not today. I knew when to call it time. And as my fingers grasped the limp chin of the infamous man laid out before me, I thought that today's conquest might even be the sweeter one.

Another klaxon blared in the distance. Not far from me sat the nearest of four strikefighters – officer's ships, all of them, primed and ready and equipped with such convenient cloaking technology.

The Star Forge hadn't fallen, not just yet. I could abscond into the anonymity of space in an instant. There was time – a little, at least – to relish the moment and drain the fruits of my victory.

And as I stared down at my newest pet – such a ripe, strong specimen to take with me – I let my smile widen.

xXx

Dustil Onasi:

Get Dad to the 'Hawk. Get Dad to the crew.

My thoughts narrowed into the same objective repeating over and over.

Get Dad to the 'Hawk.

Dad kept talking, saying words that weren't important. Tugging on my arm. Time slowed to a silver blur, and all I knew was that I had to get Dad back to our frakking ship-

One foot fell in front of the other. Thud, thud, dragging Dad along, as he stumbled next to me with a blaster gripped in his free hand. Everything else had ceased to matter, like my entire life was fogged with only one purpose drilled down deep into my bones.

Get Dad to the-

A muscle twitched, somewhere along my jaw.

Compulsion. Frakking compulsion. Like Mex scoring free drinks from that bartender chump back in Dreshdae. Easy to twist the minds of the weak-

The thought was odd and faint, so I pushed it away. I knew what I had to do-

Something shattered. A blast of heat scorched through my flesh, and my vision blacked out, just for an instant. A scream- two screams- crested high on the Force, like twin suns shooting nova, numbing my hearing, my sight, my everything.

The sharp points of energy fell, fading through the Force, and the next moment it was like they'd never been there at all.

Revan. That was frakking Revan!

"Dustil? Dustil!"

I was shaking. No- Dad, was gripping my shoulder, roughly, his face pinched with alarm.

"Son, stay with me! We've got to-"

Revan. That was her- her dying-

The grind of pain in my broken arm resurged with a vengeance, and suddenly I was back in control of myself, covered in sweat and grime and more exhausted that I could ever remember being.

"Dustil-"

I blinked, staring at Dad dumbly. I'd come to a standstill, and it took a moment to realize we were in a dimly-lit corridor – just another one of the same frakking tunnels in this Sith-cursed place.

"I'm- I'm okay," I said hoarsely, even though it wasn't remotely true. I could barely even sense the Force, but I knew what I'd just felt.

Revan, paying the ultimate price.

And someone else. Was that Darth No-Jaw as well?

"Start moving," Dad ordered, placing a hand behind my elbow. It was dark, I realized with a jolt – the lighting had karked again. "We've got to get back to the others. Rosh bought us some time, but I'm not betting your life on him winning against that Sith bastard."

A torrent of images flooded through my mind as I stumbled after Dad. My blaster, firing a shot straight into the back of Lord Arseface's head. His skin- melding, healing, like it'd never been hit at all. Me, held helpless in his arms like a dumb tach as my life bled away. Dad, with his blaster forced up to his-

"Dad!" I gasped, my eyes dropping down to his blaster in horror.

A grimace twisted Dad's face as he urged me on. "It's- it's okay. It didn't happen, son. I'm not exactly Rosh's biggest fan, but he got us out of there alive."

I blinked. "Yeah." The word was a whisper, for Rosh's last command started echoing faintly in my head-

You will take your father back to the Ebon Hawk. You will take your father back to your allies. Now.

The coercion behind the message had faded; enough, at least, for me to shake it off. That twin blast in the Force had cracked straight through it. And the realization of being compelled – twice, no less – stirred something ugly and vengeful in my gut.

I can't blame Rosh. I knew that. Yudan Rosh had saved me. Saved us. He was stronger than Sharlan Nox, so he'd have a fair chance at beating that frakkwad-

But Revan failed. Revan's dead. Frakk. Can that really be true?

I swallowed and glanced sideways at Dad, marching down the hall at a speed I struggled to keep up with, and he was the damn Force-blind one. Maybe I'd known where I was going under the chains of Rosh's compulsion, but I had no bleeding idea now.

How in the Outer Rim do I tell Dad about Revan?

"Get your comm off mute," Dad said, his gaze fixed ahead. "Ordo's patched through a message that the airlocks have opened. We have to get back to the 'Hawk and leave as soon as Revan and the others return."

"As soon as-" I choked back the words. I couldn't tell Dad. Not- not here. Dad's faith in Revan had always pissed me off, but now- now-

Much as my thoughts on that cursed woman had always been twisted with bitterness, I wasn't all that surprised to realize I didn't want to see her dead anymore.

And what if that wasn't Malak? The second death? It was- it was weaker than Revan. Mission said Revan and Bastila Shan's lives were joined. If Revan and Miss Battle Meditation both karked it, then does that mean frakking No-Jaw is still stomping around?

Urgency kicked hot as spice in my veins, echoing through my Force-dulled senses. My strides lengthened, and Dad increased his pace to match mine.

"Airlocks have opened, huh?" I managed weakly. We could get out- that was something, at least. And if Darth Malak was still alive, then we had to get the frakk out as quick as we could.

Dad nodded; a short, sharp move of his head as he kept moving. "Teethree's reporting numerous alarms throughout the Star Forge. The Fleet's winning, Dustil. It's- it's almost over. Even Rosh might make it back. All of us will get out of here alive, son, with a new life waiting for us."

New life- yeah. I wasn't sure how much Dad really believed that, and how much he was just parroting it for my benefit. But the knowledge of the truth clamped tight around my heart, and refused to come out as words.

Dad would learn it soon enough, and I didn't want to see the look on his face when he did.

"All of us, alive," I echoed, and the lie tasted bitter on my tongue.

xXx

Inon Daelidar:

"General!"

Striding across the command room, I had no time to address the braying cry of the tenderfoot behind me.

"Order all squadrons to cover the secondary transformer array!" I snapped out to the closest technician seated behind the row of navi-console screens. To her left and right were empty chairs, glaring accusingly at me. It seemed every time my back was turned, another mewling coward ran for the doors. "We cannot let the Republic break through!"

The primary transformer was dead. If the secondary went down, all power would revert to emergency backup, which meant critical functions only. No turrets. Minimal shielding. A small window of life-support and artificial gravity-

There will be no second breach. I believed that as fiercely as I believed in the dry air inflating and deflating my own lungs. Lord Malak would not allow the Star Forge to fall. Soon I will have the resources to repair the primary array. Soon my lord will have squashed all those ants who dared crawl inside his fortress, and then he will set his might on the bugs buzzing around outside.

And I will hold the Star Forge for him until then.

A flurry of movement caught my eye-

"General- Sir-!"

I ignored the shout behind me, and instead raised my blaster to the port-side exit. One shot, and the green-skinned Rodian buckling to desertion fell flat on his face.

"Sir, the airlocks are open!"

I scowled, spinning around to glare at Jha'hasi's pimpled face.

"I am well aware of that, Lieutenant." I was surrounded by the idiocy of incompetents. No one knew how the airlocks had malfunctioned, and now no one could explain why they had so fortuitously returned online.

In fact, no one from Maintenance had bothered to make contact for over an hour.

But it mattered little, at this stage. Only a stuttering simpleton would stumble over the recovery of functionality, instead of focusing on what should be done with said functionality.

I took a step toward Jha'hasi, feeling my lips peel back in a rictus of frustration. "Cease plaguing me with information I already know. The airlocks are open, and all squadrons have launched. Further assessment of why can be examined after we have won!"

"Sir." Jha'hasi bit his lip like a child, stepping back in alarm from my outraised weapon. Idiot. I would shoot only those asinine enough to run. "Sir, the primary transformer's down. The secondary's getting hit bad, and so are the shields. We should issue evac orders-"

He halted when my blaster pointed unerringly at his face.

"Do you know what Lord Malak does to those who run?" I said softly.

The imbecile paled, but I saw his gaze flick weakly over my shoulder to the ready escape pods lining the back wall of my command centre. All solid green lights, ever since the airlocks had returned online.

I may not have stopped every worm from escaping this room, but at least I had the dark satisfaction of knowing not a single escape pod had yet been launched.

"Sir, the Star Forge is falling."

"No, it is not!" I roared, and felt the spittle loose from my lips. Cowards, cowards, everywhere! And I knew what fate had in store for me, should Lord Malak see the shambles my command room had devolved into.

Something flickered in my periphery- I spun on a booted heel, opening fire on the pathetic Trandoshan making a beeline for pods. Blaster bolts spat into the empty consoles, sparks arcing from one screen to the next, spraying shattered ferraglass all over the chrome flooring.

A seated tech screamed in strangled terror, but the Trandoshan- the Trandoshan stumbled as my aim straightened and laser bolts dug deep into her uniformed back.

"Sir, our defenses are all but gone." Jha'hasi's reedy voice kept talking. Shaky and frightened, but not frightened enough for the nitwit to actually shut up and do his job. "The Republic have set up an interdiction field to stop anyone jumping to hyperspace. They are transmitting demands of our surrender on all channels-"

Oh, I knew Jha'hasi had been promoted higher than his bleating worth, but it surprised me to hear the bug actually dare say such words out loud- or even think them. Had the child never seen what Lord Malak – or any of his Dark Jedi – would unleash on those weak enough to consider desertion?

Jha'hasi wouldn't last long. I knew that now. But I'd also seen enough of his cowardly character to know he could be useful, for a time.

I had scant resources to work with. Surely, Lord Malak would understand that.

"We fight for the glory of the Sith, Lieutenant." I let my voice soften. "For a stronger galaxy, for a better galaxy. We will win. The Lord of the Sith always pulls off the impossible."

In a sense, it didn't matter who the Lord of the Sith was – just the power they commanded. I had seen it time and again. Adashan and Gant had fallen. Dodonna- well. She would follow soon enough.

"Lord Malak rewards the loyal, Jha'hasi. But for those that run... Lord Malak can reach anywhere, even into the safety of a Republic prison. And you have no idea how long he can stretch out the promise of death."

Jha'hasi's chin wobbled. His eyes widened beneath a shock of ginger hair. The dunce had always been ruled by fear, and that made him a brittle tool – but a tool nonetheless.

"I once saw a traitor flayed alive over the course of weeks," I continued, seeing the memory of red blood and pink flesh in my mind. "He had forgotten his own name by the end of it."

Truly, there was a certain art to the skills of the Dark Lord's slayers. They were the sharpest tools of the Sith Empire, and ones I meant to avoid at all costs.

My attention snapped back to the cowering fool in front of me. Jha'hasi had paled further, if that was even possible, skin all white other than the bright red pustules quivering on his flaccid Human face.

Utterly craven. But he was the tool I had. I was fully cognizant of the barren state of my command centre. Less sents than escape pods, now- but it didn't matter. All I needed was a handful of techs to obey my commands while I kept the battle out there alive-

For my lord would be here, soon, to fix everything.

"Hold the room, Colonel Jha'hasi," I clipped out, handing the child my gun, grip-first. He blinked stupidly at me. "I must concentrate on the Fleet, and I cannot do that when every minute another rat tries to find a hole to scurry into."

Jha'hasi's head dipped in a shaky nod, and his hand rose slowly to curl around my blaster.

"You have my back, Colonel." This was what I had been reduced to, playing war with a bunch of brats dressed up as brass. But my own competence was all that mattered – and I could mould these bugs as required. I knew just how well fear worked, when intermingled with the promise of reward.

"Sir," Jha'hasi breathed, and his eyes darkened with emotion. Awed disbelief, no doubt, for whomever would take such a child as colonel seriously? But like any greedy fool, he would reach forward to grab the reward, and that made him mine.

"Shoot anyone who dares move from their chair," I ordered, before turning and bending over the nearest free console. A snapshot of our armada blinked back at me, and it was worse than I thought.

I just have to hold the line until my lord returns. I can do this.

The faltering squadrons on the ventral wing- they could be directed into a suicide run at the inertial compressor of the Meridus. If I could precipitate the demise of Dodonna's flagship, her death would be a final blow to the hierarchy of the Republic-

My body slammed forward into the screen. Blistering pain flamed over my back, and someone was screaming-

"Evacuate!" Jha'hasi's reedy voice yelled behind me. "The Star Forge is falling! There's more than enough escape pods here – get out while you can!

Blaster fire- a blaster bolt to the back-

My thoughts flat-lined into nothing but the agony of fire dancing across my skin. I wasn't moving. My limbs betrayed me to hang limply over the top of the now-beeping console.

Darkness flickered at the edges of my vision, slowly narrowing into a tunnel. I could just make out the far wall, and the last sight I had was of pathetic, cowardly Jha'hasi, slamming a hand onto the control mechanism of an active escape pod.

xXx

Mission Vao:

"Airlocks are open," I whispered, feeling the hope shine bright in my heart. Teethree had just transed the news to my comm, but the loud thunk of machinery from the inner hangar door told us all the truth a sec before he did. That, and the solid array of pretty green lights above it. "We're gonna get out of here."

::I've commed Onasi,:: Canderous said. Up ahead, next to the blown exit, he'd turned around and started heading back to us. ::And Revan and Rosh, but those guys ain't being chatty.::

There was a noise from old man Bindo- something between a chuckle and a grunt. He was steady on his feet, at least, standing next to me at the base of the 'Hawk's loading ramp – but I'd seen his chest when I'd patched him up earlier.

And that was before that Sith sleemo had done- done- whatever that guy had done. Jolee's skin was grey and his breath wheezed like a slum-rat with the pox. But the old geezer from Big Z's homeworld held his 'saber in guard as we both waited by the ship – waiting, for the others to return.

Can't believe ronto-turd Rosh saved the day, and Carth and Dee are on their way back. That, and the airlocks opening, meant things were gonna turn out okay. We just had to wait for Jen-

Jolee coughed, suddenly, a racking noise that morphed into a loud gasp. I spun on a heel, turning just in time to catch the old man's arm as he stumbled. The 'saber in his other hand wavered dangerously, and his eyes rolled back in his head-

"Jolee!" I cried, digging my fingers deep into his flesh.

"Shoot him with another stim!" Canderous yelled, close enough now that he didn't use the comm. "And get outta the way of his glowstick!"

Jolee jerked his arm from my grasp, tripping back before righting himself. "I'm fine," he growled, switching his 'saber off. But the old man was barely standing, shudders racking through his bony Human body-

I fumbled for a spare stim in my belt. If anyone knew about the limits of stims it was freaking Canderous, and while I didn't exactly wanna dose the old man up against his will, I also kinda thought him passing out on the loading ramp was a bad idea.

"I'm not going to collapse," Jolee rasped, as if reading my thoughts. "I just- I just felt-"

He cut himself off with a groan.

"How far away's Republic?" Canderous snapped, coming to a halt in front of us. His question was for me, but his steel eyes were fixed on Jolee, who was almost bent double at my side.

I glanced down at the comm on my free wrist. Teethree had been pretty solid with tracking the hatch movements, and a snapshot of schematics blinked up at me from the inset screen. "Carth's not taking the shortcut back," I groused, flicking on the comm for a sec so he'd hear me too. Carth had been curt with his words, and Dee- Dee hadn't said a thing at all. "Guess Carth figured he had time for a stroll first."

There was a patch of static over the comm. ::I couldn't get back to the conveyor,:: Carth said. ::Dustil wouldn't let me. We've gone another way- I think it's the route Dustil first took. But-::

::I'm okay now. I'm listening,:: Dee's voice cut through his dad's. ::Give us a pointer, Mission. I can't, uh- I can't remember the way back.::

I held back a dig at that – for I was pretty relieved to hear Dee's voice, even if he sounded a bit... hollow. But I didn't know why he hadn't just let his dad lead the way- Carth shoulda been able to shimmy through the cargo chute to be back here in half the time.

Never mind. I'll chew him out for it later. Teethree was quick to mark out a new route, and I fired the directions through before switching the comm off. I could feel my spirits lifting, everything was gonna work out-

Won't be long before they make it back. Them, and Jen and Big Z.

Next to me, old man Bindo had straightened – but his head was shaking. And he kept rambling something-

"Can't believe it." Jolee was pale, with his eyes squeezed tight and his forehead shining with sweat. "Ach, like a darn fool sticking his head in the muck, I just don't want to believe it-"

"Jolee?" I whispered, nudging him. Of course, the old man totally ignored me, blinking and staring down at his bony wrist before tapping on his comm with a shaky finger.

"Lad," Jolee muttered, and his words echoed through my earbud. "Did you just sense something through the Force?"

There was a pause. I felt my belly tighten. There was something strangled in Jolee's words, and all of a sudden I had a terrible feeling-

::Yeah,:: Dee said hoarsely. ::Tell me that wasn't-::

"Get back here, then we'll talk," the old man clipped out, and he almost sounded like Canderous, the way he was throwing orders about.

::Sense what?:: Carth demanded. ::What did you both sense?::

"The airlocks opening," Jolee snapped, before switching off his mic. He glanced over to me, and suddenly the old man looked... old. Like, way older than he'd been just a few minutes ago, even with the injury and the Force attack and everything else.

"You're lying," Canderous drawled. His eyes had narrowed and his arms had folded as he stared the old man down. "Spit out the truth. Ain't the time for deception."

Jolee's head turned slowly to face Canderous.

"You're right," he said in a low voice, and the sinking feeling in my belly grew. Somehow, at that moment, I thought I already knew-

"Revan and Bastila," someone hissed from behind, and I started in surprise, jumping away from the old man to spin around and face the 'Hawk.

In the shadow of the entrance hatch stood Juhani- freaking Juhani, who shoulda been in a drugged coma back in the medbay! She was leaning against the wall, dressed in a thin white tunic, and her leg- her dead leg was still in that bacta-filled plasteel sheath, splinted all the way up to her arse. Her leg was gonna be cut off, Jolee'd said, but only when we got to a med-droid or a proper clinic. Until then, she had to stay dosed under, to give her the best possible chance-

"Kittycat," Canderous drawled. He sounded almost admiring. "How the kriff are you up on that leg?"

But the Cathar, pale and sweaty beneath the fuzz on her face, had eyes only for old man Bindo.

"We are on the Star Forge," she said, and she sounded as hollow as Dee. As shaken as Jolee. It had to be so weird for her, waking up here after being knocked out on that stupid pyramid. "Tell me I did not just sense what I dread is the truth."

"You felt it too." Jolee breathed out hard through his nose. "And it was enough to break you free from a medicated coma."

"No." The word blurted outta my mouth. I got it, then- Juhani had said Jen and Bastila- Juhani and Jolee and Dee had all felt something to do with them, and they were all shocked and upset- "No, no, you've got it wrong-"

"Revan's dead." Jolee voiced the worst thing in the world, staring hard at Canderous. "Revan and Bastila both."

Canderous' jaw worked, but he said nothing. I felt my head shaking, as if by itself, while the spike of wild disbelief churned in my gut. Suddenly, I almost felt like I was gonna hurl.

"Malak is still out there." Jolee's words were hoarse, and I couldn't hold back a flinch. "We have to get out of the Star Forge."

"Revan, dead," Canderous snapped in a cold, hard voice. "Funny, because I've heard that one before."

"It is true," Juhani whispered, and I flinched again. "I am well familiar with the Force signature of both Revan and Bastila. I felt them fall through the Force to the other side. It is what woke me-"

"No!" I burst out. "It's not true! It can't be freaking true! Jen will come through for us, just you wait, and then you'll look like a pair of freaking marsh toads-"

"Mand'alor's balls!" Canderous growled, jerking his head over his comm, and his next words were sent through the airwaves. "Onasi, get back here double-time! Rosh's kriffing comm has blacked out!"

My head was still shaking wildly. "Who gives a ronto's arse about that ronto-"

::Stang!:: Carth's voice was muffled. ::I read you, Ordo. We're at a junction, we need Mission-::

::Pretty sure it's left here, Dad-::

Canderous thumbed his mic off, before marching forward to glower at Jolee. His eyes were pinched tight, and his face was set with anger. "Would you swear your life on it, old man? You and that Cathar both? You absolutely certain there ain't no way you got this backward? Revan made it through before-"

"Jen ain't dead!" I yelled, and hated the way my eyes started tearing. "You're wrong, all of you-"

"I know what I felt, Canderous," Juhani said, and her voice was so sad-

::We're taking the left turn. We're moving as quick as we can. Dustil says he recognizes this area.::

"Darth Malak still lives," Jolee continued, placing a hand on my shoulder that I shrugged off furiously. "Ach, and don't forget the mystery of those darn airlocks jumping online all of a sudden. I can't help but think that's related-"

::Just- just tell me if we go the wrong way, guys. Okay, guys?::

"Big Z!" I cried, as an even worse thought hit me. The hot tears slipped from my eyes, tracking down my face. At the base of my neck, I could feel my lekku twining protectively around me, and all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball, but- "Big Z's still out there! We need to get him back here!"

Canderous cursed something darkly in his stupid language. "If Rosh's comm is down, then it's a fair bet that kriffing Dark Jedi has got the better of him. I've got to start the 'Hawk-"

My hand shot up of its own accord, grabbing Canderous' arm as he made to stomp past.

"I ain't leaving without Big Z." I didn't believe Jen was truly dead, I couldn't- but even more important was my best friend, left out there somewhere in the dumb Star Forge. Canderous blurred and swam in front of me and, much as I kept blinking, the stupid tears wouldn't stop. "I'm going after him."

"Ad'ika." Canderous' growl was gentle, and I almost hated him for that. "Ad'ika, there's no time. If Zaalbar's alive, he'll make his way back before Onasi gets here. But your droid has been relaying the station alarms through to us. We know the Star Forge is going down. The airlocks are open-"

"I don't care!" I screamed, digging my nails into his arm. Fat lot of good it did, with that stupid half-broken armour-plate covering his skin. "You lot can give up on Jen all you like, but I ain't giving up on Big Z!"

His hands thumped on my shoulders so hard it should've hurt, but the weight was almost a comfort. "Mission. If I thought I was quick enough to go find Zaalbar and get him back, then I would. But I ain't a kriffing jetii. And the others are too banged up to ask it of them."

The others- I glanced wildly back at Jolee, who was staring at me with a dumb look on his face, like he had any idea of what I was feeling- none of them did, not if they were all so ready to think that Jen had really fallen to freaking Darth Poodoo! But Canderous had a point-

A Jedi can get to Big Z.

I slipped out from underneath Canderous' arms, one hand sliding into my utility belt.

"Jolee-"

The old Jedi sighed as I stepped close, and his eyes were dark and sad. He raised his hands, as if to hug me, and behind, Juhani hissed a warning-

My arm snaked forward, stim in hand, and stabbed the 'derm straight into the old man's leg. Jolee yelled in surprise, jerking back, but I'd already pushed the plunger down-

A hand grabbed at my back, under a panel of armour, hefting me high in the air.

"Mission Vao!" Jolee growled.

"Let me go!" I squawked, legs kicking hard into nothing. "Canderous, you chuba-faced snot-brained monkey lizard! Put me down!"

"Not likely, kid." He sounded like he was chewing rocks, and I couldn't see him like this, held stupid and useless in the air like a kid- I wasn't just a stupid kid-

Jolee stepped forward, close enough for me to make out the dark scowl on his wrinkly face even through the hot tears. He raised a finger, waggling it angrily at me.

"You can go after Big Z!" I cried, jerking hard against the grip at my back. "You can go fast enough- it won't even take you long- and- and- he's still freaking alive, waiting for Jen to come back or something-"

"That was my choice, missy, not yours!"

I'd never heard Jolee so angry before- like I cared, though- what was the point of having freaky Force powers if you didn't use them to help your friends-

"You'll have an hour, maybe less, before you crash from that third stim," Canderous said, and he sounded so damn calm behind me that it took a sec to even understand him. "You could risk a fourth if you need to, but with your weight and your condition there's a risk of heart failure."

"You know you could go there!" I stormed, launching a kick behind me that connected weakly with Canderous' chest plate. Stupid borkhead didn't even grunt in complaint. "The Wookiees let you live on freaking Kashyyyk for years! It's the least you can do-"

"I don't respond well to emotional blackmail, missy-"

Canderous snorted behind me. "No, but Zaalbar's one of the crew, much as you are, old man. I ain't gonna tell you what to do, but I reckon I got your measure. If you're as fast as I've seen jetii in the past, you should make it there and back by the time the Onasis arrive."

"You have to! Any decent-"

"Ne'johaa!" Canderous thumped me to the ground, harder than he needed to. "Ad'ika, shut up!"

"Aye, well." Jolee harrumphed. Through the blur of tears, I could see him ignoring me to stare hard at Canderous. "Mayhap the thought had already occurred to me before that silly lass took matters into her own hands."

Canderous strode around and in front of me, one armoured hand holding me back. Like I was gonna move – the shaft of hope that Jolee might actually go and check wedged tight in my heart with the stab of a chiv-blade.

Canderous shifted on his feet. "You could go after Malak instead."

The statement was stark and- and completely insane. I saw Jolee's bushy eyebrows shoot upwards as his jaw dropped, and heard a hiss of surprise from behind me.

"Lure him back here." Canderous' words were soft, but there was no missing the deadly intent behind them. "Between me and the Cathar, we've a good chance of firing a bolt into that bastard's head."

"Risking my life is one thing," Jolee managed, forehead bunching into a disbelieving frown. "Throwing it away in the throes of stupidity is quite another."

Canderous snorted. "If you're right about Revan – and I ain't entirely sure I'm buying that – then we gotta finish what she started."

The sharp screech of a critical station alarm cut short whatever the old man was gonna say in return. Mains lighting died into darkness, and then the dull red of emergency LEDs flared into lines on the flooring. Teethree beeped, a long barrage of Binary that I struggled to follow-

"Mains power is out for good," I whispered. Everything- everything was going absolutely chuba-shaped. "We're on emergency, and now the shields are getting hit. Life support's on backup. Screw Darth Poodoo, just get Big Z back here!"

But Jolee was still glaring at Canderous, who was busy throwing a frown at me over his shoulder.

"The Star Forge is going down, Canderous." Jolee spoke slowly and deliberately. "Revan's got her endgame, at least. Can't think Malak will survive for long with the Fleet out there, even if he jumps in an escape pod. The Wookiee, however..."

"Yeah." The word was low and almost angry, like Canderous hated the thought of giving in. He grunted, abruptly striding forward to the old man's side. "Here. Take this. Don't use it unless you got no choice."

I blinked, sniffing back more tears as I saw the shape of a hypoderm pass from Canderous to Jolee. The old man glanced back at me, his expression firming into a promise of lectures to come, before it softened, just the smallest amount.

"Ach, well," he muttered. "I may as well go for a quick run then."

"Be careful," Juhani whispered behind me. I'd almost forgotten she was there, back up and awake- but it barely seemed important in the grand scheme of things.

"Get in the 'Hawk, kid." Canderous had turned to face me, his voice as dark and commanding as I'd ever heard it. Over his shoulder, I saw the old man turn and start walking down the length of the hangar. "Get to the common room and stay in touch with Onasi over the comm. Don't even think about moving. Cathar, keep an eye on that kriffing hangar exit. I'll start the ship."

I barely heard Juhani's murmur of agreement. Canderous placed a hand on the centre of my chest plate, shoving me back towards the 'Hawk.

Behind him, the old man vanished in a blur of speed.

xXx

Davis Tar'coya:

"Adashan squad's taken down the secondary transformer array," a tech rapped out. My gaze stayed locked on the holo-map. I could feel my jowls quivering in a smile that was hard to hold back. This time- this time- we'd end things.

"That'll be mains power out to the bulk of the Forge," I said, pointing a stubby finger at the factory's belly. That Sith canker of a space station would have emergency backup, no doubt, but it'd be running critical functions only.

I could feel victory close at hand. After so many years... it almost tasted more bitter than sweet.

Behind me, the cryptic Jedi Master that Forn refused to boot from her command centre wheezed out a gasp.

"Tau squadron are heading in for another assault at the anterior fin," a second tech reported in a monotone that had to be masking the same dark sense of satisfaction I felt. We'd destroyed the turbines and generators on the ventral fin already, and I only had to look through the far viewport to see the damage with my own eyes.

I hated to admit, even in the privacy of my own head, how much of our success was owed to Bastila Shan. Because I also couldn't forget how many of our deaths were laid at her feet, too.

"Vandar." Forn's voice behind me was sharp and alarmed. "Vandar, what is it?"

I turned, feeling my customary scowl morph into a frown of bemusement as I stared at the Jedi Master. Vandar Tokare had spent the last hour kneeling in some meditative affectation, humming under his breath like he was in the damn sonic. Now-

The little green alien was leaning forward, his weight on one three-fingered hand, as his wrinkled head shook from side-to-side.

"Vandar?" Forn was next to him, her lined face creased in concern. She crouched down, and the old Jedi Master raised his head to stare at her mournfully.

His blue eyes were wide and full of sorrow.

"Bastila," he rasped.

I heard Forn's sharp intake of breath. I was whirling back to the topographic, though, frantically tracking our remaining squads. For I didn't need Vandar's plaintive cry to be spelled out in full.

Bastila Shan is dead.

The dots of our scattered ships blinked reassuringly back at me. Even with the loss of that young Jedi's battle meditation – stang, even if I'd misunderstood and she'd switched sides yet again – the holo-map plainly stated there was no turning the tide of battle this time.

The Star Forge was crumbling. The Sith armada was in disarray, and we'd already started towing in the snubs who surrendered and shooting down the ones who tried to flee. Unless the damnable Sith had a dozen squads of fighters still cloaked and about to pounce, today was ours – Bastila Shan or no Bastila Shan.

"One with the Force now, Bastila is," Vandar murmured, so softly I barely heard him. In fact, I only caught his next words because I cocked my heard in fierce concentration to catch them. "Bastila, and Revan both."

My thoughts stuttered. Revan, yeah, well, that's because she's already dead-

"Stang," Forn muttered under her breath. "Vandar, are you absolutely certain?"

Haltingly, I turned back around. The surrounding techs were all busy behind their consoles. None appeared to be listening in- but I was. Oh, I was.

Why would that charlatan bandy her cursed name around now? What in all the blasted hells of the galaxy does Darth Revan have to do with anything?

"Yes," the old Jedi whispered, his bright eyes closing. "Gone from us, they are."

The skin under my cap prickled. Why is Vandar acting like Darth Revan has only just fallen-

My commanding officer slowly lifted her gaze to meet mine. There was something in the lines of her face, the darkening of her eyes- and then in a moment of sharp-edged clarity, I understood-

That Dark Jedi on the blasted Ebon Hawk!

I could feel my mouth drop open in sheer disbelief.

The clearance to know had been above my rank- I'd had my suspicions, of course- Kylah Aramai, or a fallen Bastila Shan, or- or-

But not a dead Sith Lord even more dangerous than Malak himself!

It beggared belief. Revan, alive- and the top brass knew alongside the Jedi, but how-

The damn Order. They- they- The logic connected quickly. Bastila Shan is notorious for taking down Darth Revan. Except she damn well didn't, did she? And how long did the Order keep Revan's escape quiet-

"Davis." Forn was at my side, a thin hand resting on my shoulder. I realized then I was shaking with suppressed anger. "Not here, Davis."

"How." The word growled out from my lips. Next to us, a comm tech threw a startled glance over one shoulder. "How is that flaming possi-"

"Commodore Tar'coya," Admiral Forn Dodonna snapped, as her grey Human eyes steeled over. "Either do your job or walk away from the bridge."

My mouth twisted in indignation, even as the soldier in me snapped to attention. I hated that she was right – we had a victory to oversee first, and recriminations could come later.

Oh, but they would.

"You understand what Vandar meant, Commodore." Forn breathed the words, quiet enough for only me to hear. Metres behind her, Vandar Tokare had bowed his head. "She is dead."

The words were enough to knock back the fury of injustice. Revan was dead. I'd thought she was dead already – along with most of the blasted galaxy – but now she actually was dead. And the living were what counted.

"Ma'am," I managed, and the unspoken message in Forn's hard gaze meant we could – we would talk later. For I'd spent years despising Darth Revan, not the least because I could still remember the first time I'd met her-

...

"I am Jedi Revan!" the cloaked and masked figure bellowed.

I stepped back a pace in shock, completely derailed. This stranger had stormed through the parting crowd, before leaping impossibly high – well over my head – and landing atop the cockpit of the nearest snubfighter. The Jedi spun around, then, to address the demoralized throng of starpilots that had been half-heartedly listening to me.

This was my first public address at Vanquo. Newly promoted to commodore and sent to Rear-Admiral Karath's beleaguered forces, I'd soon felt as disheartened and dismayed as any of the grunts out there, witnessing the slaughter those Mandalorian bastards revelled in. Despite my best efforts, that feeling had come across loud and clear in my stuttering speech.

A gust of wind – impossible, in a closed hangar like this – whipped to life, billowing out a black cape behind the anonymous Jedi. White sparks curled around the figure's outraised fist, a tempest of lightning both showy and impressive.

"The Republic bleeds. The Republic burns. The Republic cries out for help, and the Jedi are here today to answer that call!"

...

The memory faded, bitter and aged with the travesty of time. Her final words of that address echoed – Now we fight back! For the Republic! – and I still remembered the nascent hope that had shot to life in my gut.

Oh, and the years that followed fulfilled her promise that day, culminating in our devastating 'victory' above Malachor V.

I knew exactly why near everyone – myself included – felt such bitterness towards the deathly spectre of Revan and the Jedi who turned with her. Because during those earlier war-torn years, they had been our heroes. And I, amongst so many, had placed Revan on that damn pedestal she later crushed beneath her booted heel.

"A message," Forn murmured, and I glanced sideways to see a tech slip the admiral a datapad. Her lips thinned as her eyes scanned the contents. "I have one man still active from Zeta squadron." Her words were circumspect, audible only to me. Zeta squad had been wiped out earlier in the battle – apart from two snubs that'd sailed inside the Forge alongside the Ebon Hawk. "He reports overhearing the same news Vandar just imparted."

Bastila Shan, dead. Revan, dead.

Problem is, Forn, we thought her dead a year ago, too.

Forn's gaze was hard, as if daring me to thwart her again. My head dipped in a slow, conciliatory nod – for I understood that Forn didn't have to share those details, and I also understood exactly what they meant.

Zeta squad wasn't sent in only to escort Captain Onasi. They must have had additional orders. Take out Revan, maybe, if she survived. That Forn had inveigled a backup strategy soothed my ire a little, even if counting on a bunch of pilots and their gunners to take out a Sith Lord seemed more than a little on the absurd side.

Seems like the point might be moot right about now.

"You believe it, then?" I managed.

Forn glanced back to Vandar, who was now staring at the both of us with those damn melancholy eyes. I could forgive the Jedi Master for being cut up about Bastila Shan – because I had to concede, as Forn had lambasted me earlier, that on the whole the young Jedi paragon had achieved far more good than evil.

At the close of it, I supposed it would be fair to call Bastila Shan the hero that Revan Freeflight failed to be.

"I am inclined to take it as truth, considering the two separate accountings of the same event," Forn said quietly. "I'll order Tobards to get out immediately, with whomever is left."

She cleared her throat, then, and turned to address the row of techs.

"Advance the assault," she said loudly, her admiral façade firmly back in place. "Tau Squadron to focus on the anterior fin. Adashan to forward on the final fin, with Rho as backup. It's time to blow the Star Forge out of the skies."

xXx

Jolee Bindo:

You could go after Malak instead.

I'd be a liar if I claimed I hadn't considered the Mandalorian's words. Aye, but it was mostly bluster, and given the way he wouldn't stop darting concerned looks back at the Twi'leki lass, he likely knew it himself.

Ordo might be a Mandalorian when it came to battle, but he was also one when it came to clan, and anyone with half an eye could see how the tough-as-nails warrior viewed that reckless chit.

My heart still thumped double-time in my chest, veins burning with the pound of blood coursing through my body. Ach, Mission more than deserved to feel the rough side of my tongue. But then, I remembered the shock of denial twisting her young face, when Juhani and I laid out what we had sensed.

I knew the pain of grief well enough. Suppose I couldn't fault her too much, acting without thinking to try and save her best friend.

Here's hoping the Wookiee's still around. I'd thought before the kid was resilient, but if she's faced with losing him and Revan both-

Well. Here was hoping, indeed.

The Force felt weak and thready. The stims helped – aye, the darn girl had made a fair call, I supposed – but it only masked the exhaustion in my core. That tentacled Sith had drained me deeply, and I knew a kip on the loading ramp with a fistful of stims could hardly count as recovery.

But I still retained a spark of power, and that spark was enough to augment my movement and grant me a rudimentary sense of the Force as it swirled violently around the cursed place.

I stood still, at the base of a spiralling staircase that ascended some dozen floors above, and felt the miasma of dark energy that could only belong to Darth Malak.

He was close, but moving away. I was weak enough that I doubted the man was aware of me, unless he was actively searching. And there was something about this place in particular-

A residue of Force. He was here, a short time ago. Had I been a minute earlier, I would have run straight into the black-hearted villain.

The Force- she was a fickle beast, and I had stopped predicting her methods a long time ago. But I would've sworn that Revan's path was not meant to end in death, not when she had stayed stalwart against everything thrown at her.

Ah, lass. You are beyond us now. I only hope you have the measure of peace you deserve.

I swallowed back a sharp pang of grief, and it was then that my eyes landed on a small, cylindrical object glinting beneath the first rise of stairs.

My eyes narrowed. One arm rose, and the tiniest flicker of Force was all I required for the metallic hilt to fly home into my waiting hand.

The 'saber hummed in my grasp, and I knew whose it was without even looking.

Revan's lightsaber. Karon's lightsaber. With a press of my thumb, blinding cyan shot to life – the same beam of plasma I had seen in Revan's hands so many times. Malak cut her down, then. Took this as a trophy. What happened next? He was careless enough that it rolled from his pocket here?

It seemed a ridiculous lapse in concentration for a Sith Lord who had already gone to the effort of collecting said lightsaber.

With a huff of discontent, I powered the thing off and attached it to my belt. Mayhap there was a reason the Force had laid my childhood friend's 'saber in my path, but I certainly couldn't think of one. Mysteries like this had a tendency to linger like a rotting tooth, but now – now was not the time.

I sighed, feeling wretched and old, and pushed the misgivings away. With a shake of my head to clear the cobwebs, I turned and strode purposefully to the service elevator that stood some metres down from the stairwell.

At least the darn lift was still working.

Aye, it might not have been as quick as a Force-enhanced leap up the railings, but I also knew I had to conserve what little strength I had left. And as the lift rose, I slowly pushed my awareness out, hoping my thin thread of Force was faint enough so as not to disturb that darned whispering kaiburr – or the man who mastered it.

There. I felt Darth Malak again. He was still moving away, but not towards the Ebon Hawk, and that was all I really needed to know.

The elevator doors opened, and I shot out with a burst of speed.

It wasn't long before I reached the half-moon double hatch that led to the upper meditation chambers. The entrance opened beneath a tap of my hand on the controls, and a dark sense of foreboding gripped me as I took the first step inside.

The circular chamber was large, with almost half the far wall made of a glittering viewport, displaying the fire of battle beyond. On my either side lay the bodies of strangers – guards, perhaps – but my eye was immediately drawn to the crumpled figure in the centre of the room.

Human. Female. Young. I was there in a flash, on my knees, turning the lass over.

Bastila Shan. I'd never met the latest Jedi hero, but there was no mistaking who she was. Ornamental braids bordered an aristocratic, beautiful face. Bastila's expression was pale and shocked, held rigid in the throes of death. I grimaced in sympathy, laying one hand gently over her face in benediction, as my gaze travelled over the mortal lightsaber wound that had cleaved through her chest.

I frowned.

Bastila had been the one to fall, not Revan. That meant- huh, I didn't know what that meant. Revan had been certain their lives were conjoined, and Rosh had relayed over the comm that Revan had left them all behind to safeguard Bastila while she tracked down her old apprentice.

But Bastila Shan had been slain here. Had Darth Malak hunted her down after finishing Revan, and then proceeded to drop Revan's 'saber down a stairwell?

Or had the lass herself returned here, drawing the Sith Lord in her wake, before he killed them both?

My head shot up sharply, scanning the room. No Revan, but behind me I'd missed the obvious figure of a fallen Wookiee. My breath caught.

This time, my steps were slow and measured, as I left the young Jedi behind. With each stride, my head cocked, hoping desperately for the sound of a breath, a huff, a wheeze of pain-

But I knew the truth before I knelt down next to Zaalbar and saw the blackened stripe that cut deep into his torso.

Oh, warrior of Kashyyyk. You will be sorely missed.

I felt my eyes close. There was no time for grief, not now, not with the Forge breaking up around me. Even here, near the rise of the monstrous factory, the klaxons wailing through the place were clearly audible.

But it didn't sit right in my heart to just stand up and blithely walk away.

Should I take Zaalbar with me? The Force would yield me enough strength, I thought, to lift two bodies and float them back to the 'Hawk. Grant them the burial they deserved. Zaalbar was a Wookiee, and a Wookiee's final rest should not be in a place of metal and sky.

But it's the living I should worry about. And I simply did not know how Mission would take it, travelling in a ship that held the corpse of her best friend. Mayhap, the only thing that'd do would be to rub rock-salt in her wounds – and the girl was going to be heart-broken already.

My mouth thinned as I looked one last time at the body of a young sentient who held more wisdom than I had first perceived. I'd been honoured to know him, aye; I'd always respected the Wookiees, and Zaalbar represented the best of them.

My gaze flickered, moving beyond the Wookiee to the dismembered robotic head of HK-47. The rest of the darn droid's body was a further metre away. Good riddance, I thought grumpily, and then-

A flash of the Leviathan skittered through my mind. I'd hefted Revan through that sinking starship, when she was dazed and insensible, and I'd had nothing to guide us to safety. No wrist-comm, no Force beacon – and it hadn't taken me long to realize that I'd gotten us completely lost.

The Leviathan had been on its last legs – much like the Star Forge was now – and I'd thought I'd run out of options right until that smart-mouthed piece of machinery materialized in a hatch and led us back to the 'Hawk.

Indebted to a darn droid. Humph, I can't believe I'm actually considering this.

The galaxy had long since been littered with countless debates on whether droids could be seen as sentient or even alive. But one thing I did know – Zaalbar and Bastila Shan were not. And with the death of Revan and the demise of Yudan Rosh, it might be that only HK-47 still held some of the answers from Revan's past.

Darn it. Not like I'll get a word of thanks from him. I picked up the head anyway, and lifted the droid's carapace with a twist of my hand. I'll let the Republic brass deal with him, maybe. I'm sure those bureaucratic idiots will have oodles of fun with his charming attitude.

I allowed myself one last moment, to close my eyes and send a final farewell out through the Force. To Zaalbar of Kashyyyk, and to Bastila Shan.

I almost missed it. The faintest blip of life, teetering on the edge of oblivion, ebbing away back by the entrance.

I blinked, standing up with HK-47's head tucked under my arm.

Next to the half-moon hatches lay the bodies of those anonymous guards, but further along, some metres down the curvature of the wall, was another figure.

Crumpled, and garbed in what looked like the brown robes of a Jedi.

I closed in. And when I stood over the body of a man who was not quite dead, I stared down blankly at his familiar face.

"Well I'll be a Wookiee's uncle," I said.

xXx

Rulan Prolik:

Corporal Kampton's form was fit and fast, and I took a moment to appreciate the speed with which the Rodian could move.

Because the time for standing still and gathering intel had long passed.

Star Forge diagnostics scrolled down the inset of my visor. All transformer arrays destroyed. Power rerouting to emergency, while life support gasped a final breath. Shields now taking the brunt of the assault in the skies. The Star Forge would have declared a formal evacuation status – if not for the megalomaniac at the helm.

I knew when it was time to decamp. I'd lingered longer than was my custom, and all due to my curiosity over a single sentient's fate.

I'd admit, Revan Freeflight piqued my interest – and not purely on the behalf of the GenoHaradan. The impact of her actions was as curious and difficult to predict as the state of her damaged mind.

I had found little surveillance to track in the upper levels of the Star Forge, and so I'd been forced to rely on second-hand communications tracking her status. That Republic mole's encrypted text-feed transmit back to the Meridus had aggrieved me more than it probably should have.

::Tagged: Republic Communications Array (Filter: Origin = Star Forge).::
::Captured Transmission: Decryption Successful.::
::Contents Follow: "Overheard: two powers report sensing the demise of the ghost and the hope. Awaiting orders." End transmission.::

Powers translated to Force-users, and the ghost and the hope to Revan Freeflight and Bastila Shan.

The disappointment of a powerful piece falling was always a blow, which was exactly why the GenoHaradan played more than just one game.

I reminded myself that the galaxy – and the GenoHaradan – had been convinced of Revan's death before, and so I began scrolling through what remained of the Star Forge's holo-footage in growing urgency.

When I stumbled upon a still of Darth Malak himself, carrying the lifeless body of Revan while he strolled along the same factory floor I was currently concealed in, I wrinkled my snout in concession and moved on.

A right shame, though. Part of me wished that the GenoHaradan had captured Revan to study- although, letting her loose had achieved what my organization desired. The downfall of Darth Malak and his empire - even if the man himself found a way to slip into an escape pod.

But considering the slow saunter of his tread through the holo-cams, I thought it a safe assumption that he wasn't even going to bother.

I, on the other hand, valued my own skin.

In front of me now was the hatch to the anterior officer's hangar, a place manned an hour ago by a pair of bumbling Sith soldiers ordered to keep the engines warm. I'd deliberately lurked near a set of those readily cloaked starships, and it was only my innate caution that had me tapping back into the hangar's holo-feed before I sliced open the door.

The grainy vid that overlaid my visor had me stilling in wariness.

A pair of corpses, identifiable by the austere uniform of Darth Malak's Sith underlings.

With a tap of my finger, I flicked to the next available cam in the hangar. Nothing- and then the third-

Two sentients, one sitting atop the other, and the cam's thermal readouts indicated both were alive. I held back a sardonic roll of the Rodian's beady eyes. Hapless idiots distracting themselves from the end of the world in the basest method possible. Still, they would be easy enough to evade or silence.

The vid-feed zoomed in, and it was then I noticed the unresponsive nature of the figure underneath, and the fact they were both fully clothed.

Hm. Perhaps not what I first imagined.

"Cam tilt left five degrees," I whispered, and the profile of the top figure came sharply into view.

I recognized him an instant before the processing software linked to my visor did.

::GH Database: Facial Recognition Match::
::Name: Sharlan Nox.::
::Species: Anzati.::
::Affiliation: Dark Jedi sworn to Darth Malak.::
::Designation: Dark Jedi Recruitment Officer for the Sith Empire.::
::Threat: Code level 6.::

The visor began listing a series of skills and warnings that I did not need, for I knew enough of the man.

Sharlan Nox was the last-known survivor of the vampiric Anzati – well, the last since the GenoHaradan had taken out Devra Bane some eighty-odd years ago. But Nox was also an anomaly, and not simply due to his survival in the face of his own species' extinction.

From the intelligence the GenoHaradan had collated, the man had actively forsworn the consumption of sentients for most of his long-lived life. In addition to that, he was the only Anzati my organization had ever encountered who possessed the ability to harness the Force.

After Malachor, his restraint in his species' fleshly appetite had vanished. And while Nox did not operate with any obvious ambition within the ranks of the Sith Empire, he was dangerous enough that I briefly considered finding another means of departure.

::Tagged: Star Forge Central Computing Complex::
::Incoming alert: Structural collapse of the lower ventral fin.::
::Incoming alert: Moderate damage to the lower anterior fin.::

I grimaced. The ventral officer's hangar was the next closest after the anterior. While it was situated high above the needling fin – and therefore, should hold for a time – it would still take me precious minutes to run there. Even if I shifted to a faster form-

Perhaps, if Nox is sufficiently distracted with his prey, he will not even notice my presence?

"Switch to cam four," I whispered, and the grainy feed morphed into another view: this time, from the opposing wall. There – a clearer shot of the unfortunate sent held in the thrall of death.

And, again, I felt the thrill of recognition precede the data screed on my visor.

::GH Database: Facial Recognition Match::
::Name: Yudan Rosh.::
::Species: Twi'lek.::
::Affiliation: Dark Jedi sworn to Darth Malak.::
::Designation: Fleet commander of the Sith Empire.::
::Threat: Code level 6.::

I made a mental note to update his outdated designation, and then paused, considering the parameters of my situation.

I needed to find a ship, and fast. Yudan Rosh interested the GenoHaradan primarily due to his history with Revan, and she was now out of the game. But Rosh was also a powerful prize for an Anzati Force-wielder, and the chances of slipping out unnoticed while Nox slaked his appetite had to be higher than moving to another hangar before the Star Forge disintegrated.

With an inward biological push, I thrust more mass into Kampton's lower musculature, and felt my limbs spasm and strengthen into that of a bipedal sprinter. After a shake to loosen the newly hardened muscles, the bony fingers of my hybrid Rodian form retrieved a mini-tool from my belt, and I got to work.

The hatch opened less than a minute afterward.

Slinking inside, I kept tight to the wall, while my fingers tapped silently on the computer inset on my armbrace. Hacking into the air-conditioning unit here might buy me a minute: I could overload a conduit or two and throw a distraction into the mix if my presence was spotted. A last resort, though – for I knew that would be unlikely to a hold a Dark Jedi's attention for long.

What I needed to do was make it unseen to the fourth and final snubfighter, a customized Aurek bird sitting closest to the inner airlock. Once inside the cockpit, I figured I should be able to power up the snubfighter and abscond before the Dark Jedi decided whether to bother with me or not.

The first Aurek had a smashed cockpit, while the second appeared fully intact. I cleared them both, and made it close to the third starship – this one, an elongated Sith snub – when I heard a voice.

"I wonder what my master will make of you." The words were followed with the sated chuckle of a madman. "She is beginning to amass quite the collection of Revan's old followers."

Truly, I preferred to avoid Force-users – and, in particular, the dark-aligned ones. They all seemed to dovetail into one form of insanity or another.

I side-stepped silently against the wall, and the pair of them slipped into view.

Nox had his back turned to me. My aura was non-existent to Force-users, apparently, so all I required was to remain inaudible.

"She had hoped I would uncover the secrets of the Star Forge. Oh, and so did I. A shame that the truth of this place will fall with Malak. I suppose your capture will have to subsist as a poor second prize."

I paused, one foot hovering in the air. Mental note: update and investigate the allegiance of Sharlan Nox. Hard to tell if the man was rambling nonsense or gloating the truth. Either way, it was highly inefficient, considering his intended audience was out cold.

But if there was another power structure of Dark Jedi out there, then this was intel I simply had to get to Eridius.

There was a slapping noise, like the insane degenerate derived pleasure from striking a comatose prisoner. Perhaps he did. With a focused wrench on my own objectives, I continued moving further down the wall.

"Maybe she'll grant you a pet name as well." There was that tinkling laugh again. "Lord of Hunger, she likes to mock me with. Perhaps you'll be the Lord of Envy. For you've always coveted that which was never truly yours, hmm?"

His voice faded as I neared the final Aurek. It was time to step away from the relative safety of the wall, and into the centre of the hangar.

"...extract at least some of your soup...might leave you addled...hardly need all of your mind intact..."

I held my breath as my feet padded silently across the chrome flooring. I could not see Nox now, but his murmuring drawl was still vaguely audible as my hands touched Republic durasteel.

"Nexus." I breathed the coded deactivation passphrase. With a hydraulic hiss, the cockpit yawned open.

I did not pause to see if the Dark Jedi would hear or notice. My long fingers were already scrabbling at the ridges of the warbird, finding purchase and pulling the rest of my body up without the aid of a porta-stair.

I threw myself inside. The busk-leather of the pilot's seat was cold. Moving fast, I slid the restraints around my torso, shut the cockpit's double-walled transparisteel, and flicked on the engines.

Now was the true danger. No way Nox hadn't noticed the start-up thrum of repulsors.

The dash burned to life. The turbine compressor whined, and I switched full thrust to the repulsors. Ahead loomed the opening of the inner airlock.

With a wrench on the throttle, the snubfighter lurched forward.

The navi-console indicated the inner airlock shield regenerating behind me, and then the outer doors began to open. Flashes of laser fire demarcated the expanse of space, and I leaned forward hurriedly to locate and enable the cloaking technology I was relying on.

A second later, my invisible starship spat out of the Star Forge, and it was only then that I remembered to breathe.

xXx

Carth Onasi:

The sight of the blown hangar hatch was the best thing I'd seen in some time.

I'd commed ahead, with no response from anyone save Ordo, but it meant they knew we were coming. Still, the last person I expected to see shadowed in the entrance of the 'Hawk was-

"Juhani," I said in surprise, striding forward with Dustil at my heels.

The Cathar was deathly pale as she leaned against the Ebon Hawk, and I knew we were desperate, but who in the blazes thought dragging her out of a coma was any sort of good idea-

"Carth," she murmured, but she didn't meet my eyes. "Jolee will be back any moment."

I had no time to question where old man Bindo had disappeared to, for next there was a crackle of static in my ear.

::Captain,:: Tobards said in a tight voice. The gunner had been strangely quiet for some time – enough that I'd had the faint concern he'd ended up as just another casualty. ::I could do with a hand down from the roof. It's time to get moving.::

Odd to hear a blasted ensign all but throwing an order about. I thumbed my mic on mute, and stared hard at the Cathar.

"Revan," I said quietly. "Tell me someone's heard from her."

"Dad-" Dustil's voice was strangled. There was a dark clench of dread in my gut-

"Carth! Dee!" Mission wailed, as she burst out from the hatch and leaped straight at me. I barely had time to catch her before she erupted into messy tears.

"Dammit, kid, I told you to stay in the 'Hawk," Canderous growled, materializing behind the Cathar. My arms tightened around the sobbing Mission as I glanced over her bowed head. Ordo looked grim – grimmer than I could ever remember seeing the man.

"You've started the 'Hawk," I gritted out, finally aware of the engine's vibration beneath my boots. "Where's Jolee gone? Where- where are the others?"

"Onasi-" Ordo started, before his eyes flicked behind me, darkening in recognition. "There's Bindo."

"What?" Mission wrenched out of my arms with a gasp. "Big Z- where is he-"

I turned around, just in time to see Mission barrelling towards the distant figure of Jolee Bindo. Behind him, a brown-clad body dropped from the air to land on the ground with a soft thump.

"What's going on?" I rapped out, marching forward. Jolee's head slumped, and from beneath one arm I saw the glint of blasted HK-47's dismembered head. HK- who was back with Bastila- and even from here I could see that robed body behind Jolee was not her- "Someone tell me what the stang is going on!"

"Dad-"

"I'm sorry, Mission," Jolee said quietly. He raised his head to look at the girl with dark, anguished eyes. "I found Zaalbar. He- he didn't make it."

Mission's heart-wrenched wail knifed me straight in the heart. Zaalbar- gone- and HK-47 in pieces- that meant-

Bastila. They were with Bastila. And if they were taken out- if Bastila was-

The shock was more than visceral; it was a physical blast of heat the plummeted straight into disbelief.

Revan.

"No!" The word was a hoarse cry of repudiation on my lips. "Revan- where are you-"

"Dad- I, uh, I felt her earlier-" Dustil had moved to stand in front of me. I barely noticed him. "Dad, she's- Revan's- gone."

Revan, you can't- you're not-

I was staring blankly at my only child, as denial choked in my throat. Over Dustil's shoulder, I was vaguely aware of Mission collapsing to the ground in a sobbing heap.

He must have it wrong. Somehow-

Dustil's mouth turned down in a grimace of pain, and all I could think was that it couldn't be true-

"Come on, Flyboy. No tears," she teased, her lips curving in that impish grin I had grown to cherish. "Don't I always come back from certain death?"

"She'll make it through," I rasped through numb lips. After everything, there was no way I'd accept this reality. The back of my neck felt strangely cold. "She always makes it through."

"Dad, Darth Malak is still out there." Dustil tugged hard on my sleeve. "And Rosh's comm is down. That means frakking Sharlan Nox might be on his way back-"

"And the Star Forge is breaking up," Ordo growled behind me. "Onasi, now ain't the time to fall apart. We need to get out."

"I won't give up on Revan," I whispered, blinking dry eyes. Whatever Ordo was saying was banthacrap. Dustil's expression contorted in front of me. "I won't."

"I promise I'll do everything I can to make it out." She whispered the words, her moss-green eyes darkening with intensity. "Promise me you'll do more than just survive if I don't."

"She's dead, Onasi!" Ordo snapped, and my son was pushed unceremoniously out of my field of vision to make room for the Mandalorian's ugly mug. "She ain't answering the comm, and every kriffing jetii in this place sensed the same damn thing!"

My gaze dropped slowly to the communicator snicked securely at my wrist. Rosh's link had blacked out, but Revan's still shone reassuringly green.

Then, like a miracle dawning from nowhere, it blinked.

Revan-

But the voice I heard was not hers.

::Revan is dead.:: The words were low, mechanized, and transmitting to all channels. ::It is finally over.::

The comm switched off, and then the green status light dimmed to black.

I stared at my wrist in shocked, frozen silence.

And the stones weighing on my soul grew to the size of mountains as I felt my heart crack open like it had only ever done once before.

If it hadn't been for Dustil's presence at my side, then – and maybe the muffled cries of Mission – I wouldn't have had the fortitude to raise my head and look Ordo in the eyes.

My mouth moved, but I couldn't find the words. My fists clenched. Whatever Ordo saw in my face, it was enough for him to give me a firm nod of- of- stang, I didn't know. Acceptance. Understanding, maybe, that I was still there with him, still able to move on automatic and help get the living out.

"Bindo," Ordo snapped, turning roughly on a heel. "Did you take that fourth stim?"

"Ach, no, but I ain't exactly-"

"Get Tinhead and that body you lugged back here into the ship, and strap yourself down in the common room before you decide to faint. Sithkid, drag Mission inside by her headtails if you have to. Kittycat, back to the kriffing medbay, now!"

Ordo was a whirlwind of barking commands, before he was back in my face again.

Beneath the layer of numb detachment, a spark of unholy fury threatened to roar to life. The desire to hunt down that sithspawned bastard, no matter the blasted odds-

Dustil. Mission. The living. Dammit, Revan, I won't believe you're truly gone-

"If you can't pilot, Onasi, you kriffing tell me now."

"I can fly." The words came out before I realized they were true. Dustil needed me. I wanted to sink into blind rage, for turning around to step into the 'Hawk meant smothering a grief I couldn't face a second time.

But the worst truth of all was that I knew I had no other option.

"Good." Ordo stared up over my shoulder. "I'll go collect that Republic grunt and meet you in the cockpit. Get ready to launch, because this place ain't holding up much longer."

Revan is dead. The words repeated in my head like a whip of self-flagellation. Revan is dead.

Ordo turned from me. Dustil shot me one last searching glance, and it was enough for me to turn, and for my boots to automatically make their way inside the ship that had been my home for what felt like so long, now.

I felt myself walking away from a large chunk of my heart – and denial still reared with a roar. They could be wrong- but could they all be wrong? Was there any chance we could be leaving Revan all alone as we scurried to safety?

The sound of my son dragging Mission into the 'Hawk reminded me of the parts of my heart that remained – the parts I could still protect. And even though I hated myself for doing it, I slipped into the cockpit's chair and readied the Ebon Hawk for launch.

xXx

Yudan Rosh:

I was conscious of little.

There was grief, yes, but it was unimportant.

Pain was present in the shape of a blinding migraine, and yet it was remote, too; as if nothing more than a faded memory of some past trauma.

Cognizance was a dying murmur, urging me to reach out: to listen, to think, to grasp the Force and take note of my surroundings and find a way to act-

But my train of thought was completely conquered by that drawling voice.

"It has been a trying day, pet," the voice drawled. "I find myself feeling rather... voracious."

The voice was important. The voice was everything. It said words that I heard but did not take in, for the voice was not commanding anything of me yet.

I would be ready to obey when it did. Cold logic formed a diagnosis of myself: I was suffering from concussion, a likely skull fracture, and the possibility of internal bleeding. Movement would weaken me.

And I did not want to be further impaired when the voice required my abilities.

"I can't think of a single reason why I shouldn't extract at least some of your soup," the voice continued. "Sure, it might leave you addled, but then I hardly need all of your mind intact."

The voice trilled a laugh. My ears found the sound discordant, but my mind knew the voice's happiness was paramount.

"Master Traya might be put out for awhile, but I can always argue that a half-wit fleshling of your strength is better than none at all."

My eyes remained closed, conserving my strength, as I sensed the warm breath of the voice moving closer.

"Just between you and me," the voice whispered. "I do tire dancing to her tune all of the time. And frankly, pet, you owe me."

The voice seemed to be talking directly at me. I agreed inwardly; of course I would owe the voice my all. I decided, however, that its words were not a requirement of movement. I did not need to offer a conscious response.

I could rest, and wait until the voice granted me a purpose.

There was a new sensation, now; a vibration beneath my fingertips. It was followed by a roar of sound.

"What?" the voice snapped, and I latched onto that surprise, as the fogged skein of my awareness struggled to comprehend what startled the all-important voice so.

Thrum of repulsorlifts. Whine of a turbine compressor. A small snubfighter launching, nearby.

There was a slight thinning in the fog of my mind, as the rumble of the engine moved away.

"How unexpected," the voice remarked. There was a sense of the voice fading, slightly, even though the physical pressure solidly pinning my body down remained. "And curious. These ships open only for a very few."

The voice was still all-important.

But the awareness that it should not be was new.

No one is my master anymore. Not even- not even-

There was a grief, there, that I shied away from.

"I cannot believe Malak would stroll straight past us without a pleased farewell or a 'saber to the gut," the voice mused.

Malak- wait. Focus. Something is wrong. That voice-

My instincts had me seeking out to the Force – gently, gently, so as not to be perceived – but the Force was indistinct and unusually cumbersome to my touch.

Weak. Feeble. Like my strength had been drained-

What else do I know- my mind rallied. There is cold chrome beneath my back. An injury to my head. Someone is sitting on me-

I cracked open my eyelids the smallest amount. The blur beyond was undoubtedly Sharlan Nox.

The rush of recent events flooded into my consciousness, and submerged the chokehold of Force-dominating coercion like a river eroding a makeshift dam.

Force drain. How can he achieve such a deep thrall so quick? Never mind. Not permanent, but I'll have little Force to work with just yet. And little time-

Sitting atop me, Sharlan Nox was still staring in fascination at the direction of the now-departed snubfighter.

Twin strands of pink flesh had erupted from his cheeks, curling delicately beneath his jaw.

Proboscis- I had heard a rumour or two, in the past, about the strange gill-like slits that were sometimes visible on his face. Whatever the purpose of those tentacles, they were likely sensitive-

-and I had little other option.

I reached out to the Force with the slightest of touches; a caress, almost, for a firm hold was presently beyond me. I needed enhanced strength and speed- but only in one arm.

Quickly, but gently-

Sharlan's head tilted back in my direction.

I slammed what Force I could deep into the chosen limb. Simultaneously, my hand punched upward, my fingers gripped tight around one fleshy tail, and then my sword-arm yanked back as hard and swift as I could manage.

Something tore. My vision exploded in a mess of spattering crimson. A weight, lifting- Sharlan was screaming loud and long as he hurled away in panic.

I rolled on the ground, struggling to stand, fighting my exhausted and pained body- the movement stabbed daggers into the side of my head, and my vision blurred-

Must get up. Move-

I made it upright, blinking to clear the residue of blood stinging my eyes. At my feet, lying innocently on the ground, lay the deactivated hilt of Zhar Lestin's lightsaber.

Metres away, Sharlan Nox stood clutching the bloody mess of his face as he continued to howl that anguished, dissonant screech.

And to my right was an officer's ship. A customized Star Forge strikefighter. Encoded to open with a passphrase-

That shapeshifter's offer replayed in my mind. But the offer had been for her, not me-

I cinched the thought of her away. Not now. Not yet. And while I no longer had any direction nor much of a purpose, there was no way I would end as one of Sharlan's playthings.

My gaze landed on the lightsaber again. Back to Sharlan. To the weapon once more. But the Force felt so sluggish, and my limbs so leaden-

Even through my exhaustion, I could sense the current supremacy of Sharlan's might. And while he might be wailing like a babe who lost the teat, I did not think he was as physically debilitated as me.

Just, perhaps, in quite some pain.

I had to move.

One arm lowered to retrieve the 'saber hilt, before my shaky legs stumbled to the ship. My head spun. Sharlan was still screaming. I whispered that doomed, fatal name that had been the landscape of her first death-

The cockpit opened. But I could not climb, not like this-

Once last burst of Force. One last push-

My strength was faint, but just enough to launch me weakly into the air. My hands caught, hanging askew over the edge of the open cockpit, and another surge of dizziness threatened to black me out completely-

A shout of alarm from behind. I wrenched myself over and in with a grunt, lurching forward to start the engines. Screw the safety restraints, I needed to move. Cockpit closing as the compressor whirred. If I was lucky, the burn of the thrusters might even take him out in my wake-

Sharlan thudded flat against the transparisteel in front of me, just as it closed. A grisly hole of black and crimson gaped from his left cheek, smearing on the glass, and the man's eyes were round and crazed like I'd never seen before. I felt my lips twist in a sneer as I swung the ship around in a wild launch, and Sharlan Nox slid away, falling from view.

The snubfighter hurtled forward through the shields of the inner airlock, before I pulled back hastily on the throttle, pausing only to wait for the outer hangar doors as they began to open.

There are other ships behind me. The thought was grim. Sharlan will follow – it is presumably too much to expect he will die along with the faltering Star Forge.

But too many others had.

Black spots speckled around the edges of my vision. The pain in my temple was increasing – along with the sinking submission of encroaching unconsciousness. I gritted my jaw, willing myself to stay cognizant for now, and shot forward into space.

The momentum pushed me hard back into the chair. Cursing, I scrabbled for the safety restraints, and then a prox alarm blared. On the navi-console, an incoming message transmitting on all channels beeped for attention.

A spark of red laser shot across my bow.

Shavit! I was in a Sith snubfighter, barrelling straight into an emerging Republic victory. No doubt they were demanding immediate surrender-

My hand wavered over the cloaking device embedded into the sleek navi-computer of the Star Forge strikefighter.

A publicized execution awaits me here. Justice demanded my death, and not so long ago part of me had wondered if I would even bother to struggle against it. It was a far better fate than a lingering demise at Sharlan's hand, regardless.

The baseborn desire to survive – or perhaps something deeper – had me slamming my palm against the control.

A crackle of stealthed purple submerged the cockpit's viewport, and I canted the snub gently to the right.

Bad idea- the mild g-forces pummelled into the side of my head like a vibro-ax.

I blacked out. For a handful of seconds, perhaps. The wail of a second proximity alarm roused me back to alertness, but my head was heavy and my judgment fogged.

I need to jump to hyperspace. The navi-console overruled that – of course, the Republic had constructed an interdiction field to block runners. But I am invisible. I can slip through, fly far enough to jump and-

My head spun, and it took everything I had not to lean back and close my eyes.

"Auto-pilot," I murmured to myself. It was easier to think when I said the words out loud. "Set flight-evasion algorithm, with scheduled hyperjump as soon as it is available. Just..."

Where? Where should I go? What is left for me?

I was too exhausted to think it through. And the only set of coordinates that came to mind were from a lifetime ago, to a planet I once called home.

xXx

Revan Freeflight:

Awareness came back in a trickle, one sense at a time.

First: a swaying motion. I was on a boat, bobbing across a body of water. Or maybe I was feeling the gait of a pack-beast, carrying me somewhere unknown. Shifting from side-to-side, like I was laying limply over a bantha or- or-

-or held helpless in someone's arms.

Next came sound. The soft, rhythmic tread of boots traipsing over a metallic surface. The thudding noise was coupled with the laboured wheeze of breathing.

Pain- pain burst in like a fist to the face. A chiv-blade to the gut. Pressure on my back, but there was no feeling there, just like there was no-

-no Force. The Force- it's not there-

And neither was Bastila.

"Bastila!" The word wrenched from my lungs like a scream, but came out more like a croak. Bastila!

She wasn't there. There was no null patch of Force like those times a neural disruptor had separated us. No- now there was absolutely nothing.

No Force. No Bastila. Nothing.

The recollection rushed through my mind with the burn of acid: us, fading into the Force. Dying. Falling beyond the veil. Bastila, in one last act of desperate defiance, hurling me back into-

"So odd, and yet strangely apt," someone murmured.

-back into someone- but I could barely make sense of anything-

"-to see how the Force has departed you, Revan."

My eyes opened. I stared up, to see the pale, fleshy underside of a neck where it met steel chrome.

Malak did not look down. He kept his gaze straight ahead, holding me tight in his arms, as he traipsed fixedly through a corridor of what had once been my dominion.

"Bastila." Her name was a murmur of soul-wrenching grief as I was faced with the ultimate loss: the failure to safeguard the life of the one who had rescued me from myself.

And the failure to follow her into oblivion.

"You are truly nothing now, Revan," Malak was saying. I wondered, numbly, if the man was trying to wrest my attention for himself, but I couldn't- because Bastila was- she was-

Gone.

"At first I thought you were completely void. An unholy enigma, like Em and Xaset, echoing with the blankness of a nether-hell burnt through the fabric of the Force itself."

His words meant nothing to me. Xaset I'd only ever heard coupled with the mysterious Meetra. Em, Em, I recognized that name from earlier blurred recollections, but I couldn't place it- just another sent from my past- someone who meant so little when balanced with the weight of my bond-sister's sacrifice.

"But no," Malak continued in his low, mechanized monotone. "You have the same faint spark as any of the trillion Force-blinds inhabiting this galaxy. To think that you have been reduced to normality is almost beyond the scope of comprehension."

The grief sat in my throat like a fistful of crushed ferraglass. But, finally, I found my voice- meaningless though it might be. "Why haven't you killed me?" I whispered.

A brief snort escaped his vocabulator, muffled and almost choked. "Why would I bother? You are no threat now, Revan. And there is a certain symmetry, perhaps, to have you with me at the end."

An arm dropped from beneath my body, and I heard the faint pneumatic hiss of a hatch opening before the arm returned.

"At the end," I mumbled, closing my eyes. "You admit defeat, then."

The same noise emitted from his throat. Wet and gasping, like even Darth Malak had trouble breathing. "The Star Forge is all powerful," he murmured. "It can create almost anything, it seems, except a medi-centre."

There was a crunching noise with his every footfall. I opened my eyes, again, this time to look around. The lighting had dimmed to emergency red, but I could make out a vast array of consoles along a wall. Some, broken and charred, having been shattered by what looked like blaster fire.

On the other side, a viewport gazed neutrally into space.

"A command room," I said blankly.

"Yes," he acknowledged, walking deeper into the place. "It appears even my best officers have scattered."

There were bloodied corpses littering the ground, in amongst the shards of ferraglass and other debris. One body even lay haphazardly over a console screen, as if the dead man had been protecting the thing with his own flesh. On the far wall, a handful of green lights marked the existence of primed escape pods.

"Look out to space, Revan. The stars you always wished to fly beyond. See our fate with me."

I blinked, turning my head. Maybe Malak wanted me to feel the horror of my oncoming demise. Maybe he wasn't even thinking that deeply. I didn't know. But as I stared out at the flashing laser fire, striking forward into the Star Forge above and below us, all I felt was a grim sense of satisfaction.

"The Star Forge is falling," I said quietly. Bastila had shown me that much already, but the sight was, at least, ameliorating in its own way. "The Republic will win."

"Ah, your blessed Republic." A dark note entered his mechanical voice, and his arms tightened cruelly around my limp body. A part of me wanted to struggle but I- I couldn't find the will.

He walked to the centre of the room, next to a table lined with smashed, sparking console screens. With another muffled huff of breath, he slid down to the ground, still grasping me tight. "That was always the difference between us, Revan. You would have sacrificed anything to save your Republic. Even me. Whereas I... once upon a time, when I was a different man, I would have damned the galaxy just to keep you safe."

The stark honesty of his words was enough to shunt my grief beneath the shock of surprise. I blinked, staring up at the underside of his face, but Malak was still gazing into the abyss of approaching death.

"Mal... you betrayed me," I whispered. What I could see of his face was sallow. But somewhere, in amongst the deathly pale skin marked with black skeins of Sith corruption, had to be the man I had once loved. "And you say I was more to you than you were to me?"

A strangled laugh choked in his throat. And still, the man did not meet my eyes. "Oh, Revan, the dark paths we have walked. Don't you understand, that to truly be master of the Sith, you must destroy that which you love the most? That is why you turned on the Republic."

My breath caught. I'd had another reason at first, but I knew there was also truth in his words. "And that is why you turned on me," I said slowly.

His head dipped, finally – and eyes as blazing as a fire at sunset met mine. "Yes. The Dark Side twists everything you are until the Dark Side is all that is left."

I held his gaze. It was like staring into the might of a supernova. "It is not all I have left," I refuted. Even now, even with the emptiness that echoed in my heart, I could not let him go so easily. Not knowing what I had been to him – and what I had led him to. "And I don't think it's all you have left either, Mal."

"Only you, Revvie," he murmured, but turned away from me to stare blankly at the viewport again. "You have never accepted the concept of concession, even when faced with your own defeat. But now, at the end of all things... surely even you must admit that you are nothing. Just like me."

"We don't-" My eyes squeezed tight. In my mind, I could see the primed green lights adorning the far wall. The next words were hard to speak, as if I didn't wholly mean them- "We don't have to die here, Malak. This doesn't have to be the end."

But I felt so hollow inside. Without Bastila-

-but the others, the others were still here, in the Forge somewhere. A faint flicker of yearning burned to life inside-

Malak's arms squeezed hard; hard enough to shoot a spasm of agony deep through my side. My limbs felt weak, useless; and I didn't know if it was injury or grief holding me impotent in his familiar arms.

Malak snorted. "After all of your betrayals, Revan, did you really think I would crawl behind you now? Leave my fortress and go mewling to your precious Republic?"

"Betrayals-" I choked over the word. "You speak of betrayal to me? I may have led you down a dark path, Malak. But you chose to continue it."

"Continue? Ah, I suppose I must claim responsibility for my own actions. And I do, Revan. Gladly. But as for betrayal- you walked that path first."

The accusation hung starkly in the air, with no evidence to justify it. And even while I knew treachery went hand-in-hand with the sodding ethos of the Sith, the hypocrisy of his words shot the fire of indignation through me. I snapped open my eyes to glare up at him, only to see the man from my past staring down calmly in response.

"I betrayed you?" Jealousy had always twisted something dark inside him, right from the very beginning- I didn't know where that knowledge came from, only that it was true. "You're the one who turned on me!"

"I was faithful, Revan," he said implacably. "Always faithful, until there was nothing left to be faithful to anymore. As Jedi, I was only ever first amongst equals in your eyes. And the Dark Side made you shuck that, until you cared for nothing anymore, not even me. Faithfulness..." He snorted in apparent disgust; a sound that morphed into a strangled wheeze. "Just how much do you remember? Have you ever bothered asking your pet Twi'lek about the limits of your faithfulness?"

"What?" The inanity of the question had me blinking. "The limits of my- what does Yudan have to do with- what the frell are you talking about?"

His gleaming eyes narrowed on mine. There was satisfaction, there, at my bewildered response – and I understood then that Malak referred to something I didn't remember, and he was glad of my ignorance.

I opened my mouth to retort-

"He's failed, you know," Malak said calmly. "I felt Sharlan overpower Yudan well before we entered this room. I imagine Sharlan will have moved on to the rest of your crew by now. He has quite the appetite. Can you not remember his unique ability?"

The air choked out of my lungs. Fury spiked higher than a stim-shot, and instinctively I expected the Force to surge in my grasp-

But there was only the sound of my harsh breathing next to his.

Malak's hand lifted to grab at my limp wrist. The sharp movement felt like he stabbed a chiv into my side. A click, and something loosened- Malak was holding my durasteel comm to his face before I even realized what he was doing.

"Revan is dead," he intoned into the device held next to the chrome of his jaw. "It is finally over."

A crunch, and the wrist-communicator from the Ebon Hawk shattered into a useless heap of metal in his fist.

I was insensate and numb, and only the physiological reflex of survival had me drawing another breath. My eyes stung, and wasn't that the most worthless sensation of all, when faced with the nadir of everything.

"A final gift for you, Revvie," Malak rasped, leaning back against the ledge of the consoles. There was the faint, crushing sound of shattered ferraglass moving beneath his weight. "Rosh will rot as Sharlan's plaything, and he deserves no more than that. But your other followers... well. They will have no reason to linger on this dying station anymore."

Gift? Gift? The detachment inside shook with a flurry of hate, a deep burn of emotion I didn't know I could still feel. Malak could prance that final act around as generosity all he liked, but the sithspawn no doubt derived a fair wallop of enjoyment from saying those frelling words-

Malak twitched, staring down at me again. The corners of his eyes creased in vague amusement, like the bastard had read my thoughts.

Maybe he had.

"The airlocks are open, Revan. I cannot hold them closed, not anymore. Perhaps I enjoy the thought of your allies running from me, carrying with them the tale that it was my hand which finally took you down." He paused. "If any of them are still alive, that is."

Still alive... The heat of hatred dovetailed into biting grief. After Bastila, the thought of others falling was more than I could bear. Bastila was more than I could bear. Yudan, no, I won't believe it. I can't. How do I even know Malak is telling the truth? I didn't. Carth- Carth- he has to get out. To live, like he promised me. Let him, at least, find a way to escape. Like a desperate prayer to an unhearing deity, my mind ran through a litany of pleas heard by no one but myself. The others- Mission, and Canderous, and Jolee and Juhani and Dustil and-

-and Zaalbar.

My heart stopped. I'd seen the truth through Bastila's eyes. The scion from Kashyyyk, whose wisdom had scythed through the darkness to humble us both at a time when it seemed nothing else could reach me.

And the rage of such injustice – that such an honourable soul could have faltered – completely flattened beneath an overpowering surge of grief.

"We were together at the beginning, Revan." Malak's words were barely audible to me, as my head lolled in his grasp to stare blindly out to space. Flashes of fire blurred through the transparisteel. "And so we shall remain at the end. In darkness."

In darkness. It ends in darkness.

My hand slipped from his grasp, to fall to the cold chrome below. Under my numb fingertips, jagged shards of ferracrystal bit into my skin.

"Your friends have gone," Malak rasped. I heard the catch in his voice, and it took a moment to understand. "I sense them departing."

Gone. Gone- they've escaped, then. Carth, and the others-

The relief was almost painful. I have that, at least. That, and the Star Forge falling. My endgame, concluded – but when it meant the sacrifice of Bastila and Zaalbar-

I would do it again, Revan, the echo of my bond-sister whispered. Maybe- maybe, this was the best outcome I could have hoped for. No Star Forge, no Darth Malak – and no Darth Revan.

I slowly sank to a place beyond feeling – much the same as Malak, I suspected. The darkness would take us soon, and Malak was right.

In the end, we were both nothing.

xXx

Author's Note:
Coming up next: Revan and Malak have a final conversation.

A Republic victory's worth of thanks to kosiah.