Bao-Dur breathed deeply and paused. He then shook his head and began to speak, his voice calm, but laced with sorrow. "The Republic received intelligence about Mandalorian troop movements. They had regrouped after the last defeat, and it was believed that Mandalore's ship itself was part of the reformed fleet. Revan ordered the Republic to patrol in key areas in an attempt to herd the Mandies closer to the uninhabited space of Malachor V. We were ordered directly to the planet to install the Mass Shadow Generator I had developed."
"The what? This was not in any report," she said, startled by the information.
"It was a secret, a desperate effort to halt the war. It was risky and meant several of our own would be sacrificed. Only you, me, and of course Revan, knew."
"How could this be of any use, or as terrible as you say? Shadow generators just pull ships from hyperspace…"
"I was instructed to construct a unit capable of a gravity-well several times more powerful than that of an interdictor ship. The plan was to literally pull the Mandalorians from the sky and crash them into the planet. Malachor was the perfect spot—a barren waste at the edge of space. You yourself said the place seemed dead already, and the darkness was oppressive in the system."
"I did?"
"Yes, General. You said the surface of the planet was the worst place you had ever been, and you couldn't wait to get back to our ship."
She shuddered at the thought. "Almost as if it was destined to be a grave."
"You said something similar back then, General," he remarked, looking up at her. "That the planet seemed 'eager for the dead it would receive, as if it were calling out for them.' Do you remember that?" he asked hopefully.
She shook her head. "No, sorry, please continue."
He blew out a sigh of sad resignation. "The rest of the ships in your command joined us the next day, and then others began to show up. It was clear we were gathering for a battle. The day before Revan and the rest of the troops were set to arrive, the Mandies attacked. It seemed they realized the plan and even though they were still rebuilding and recuperating from the last defeat, they outnumbered us, and we provided too tantalizing a target to pass up."
"What was the difference then? The Mass Shadow unit was set up on the surface, and with fewer allies placed in danger…"
"Didn't quite work out that way, General," he said sadly. "We were to contain the Mandies in the area with a solid perimeter at the edge of the effect radius. But we didn't have the unit strength to follow that plan, Revan was not there to direct the battle, and several of our ships were in harm's way, engaged in heavy fighting. You held off as long as you could, but the battle was not turning in our favor. You wanted to wait for as many ships as possible to get clear, but they couldn't retreat fast enough, and…I urged you to give the order before we lost the opportunity."
"That sounds like a wise choice. I was allowing my emotions to cloud judgment in this case. You knew what would happen to us, but felt for the greater good…"
"Our ship was clear of the area, General. We had maintained our position just outside of the generator's calculated effect radius." His head was down as he spoke. Remote silently floated nearby.
"Oh," she breathed, understanding all too well.
"But it didn't matter."
"The unit didn't work?"
"It worked too well, General. I miscalculated the power output, and the radius was thousands of units larger than I thought it would be. Everything was caught in the burst. The small fighters disintegrated upon contact; cruisers began to crush in on themselves and plummet to the surface; ships were colliding with each other, drawn together by the excess gravity, before losing orbit and racing towards the planet. Our ship rocked, the walls began to buckle, and then we started a slow nosedive."
"What was I doing during all this?"
"I'm not sure, General. I was trying to get the unit offline, and when I looked up, you were on the floor and you weren't moving. I could see blood trickling from your nose and ears. I left my post to get to you just as I saw a bright flash through the viewport: Malachor V had imploded, crushed in on itself from the pressure. The gravity well stopped instantly, but the shockwave from the destruction of the planet tossed the ship, and something hit me, pinning me to the wall. Next thing I knew, I was in the infirmary. The three horns grew back, but the arm never did."
She looked at the crown circling his head and almost asked which ones. She couldn't tell, and it didn't matter anyway. None of it did. Her memories had not even sparked, let alone ignited in full remembrance. But she had forced him to relive and retell it all, with no consideration for the consequences or his feelings. If events had unfolded as he claimed, she understood why he held himself accountable and wished to forget, as she had.
"I am sorry, Bao," she whispered.
"You still can't remember," he said flatly, disappointment coiling through his voice. Remote echoed its master's tone in a mournful string of chimes.
"I still don't blame you," she offered. "You were following orders. We all were."
"I would have pushed that button anyway, General. The Mandalorians deserved no less for what they had done to my homeworld. I was looking forward to it and I dragged you down with me, making you give the command. My anger and need for vengeance made me miscalculate. I wanted to punish them, don't you see? I made the shadow generator too strong and I ignored my mistake. I wanted them to suffer, and I didn't care who else got hurt." He looked at her, eyes dead, his expression devoid of any emotion. "I thought I had killed you, I never saw you again after the battle. My last image of you was on the command bridge, crumpled to the floor, bleeding and helpless. But then I heard…" His voice became small, vanishing in his throat. "I am the reason you were exiled, I am the reason you lost the Force."
"I shouldn't have made you go through this. I was thinking only of myself. You've worked so hard to overcome your anger and the war, and this brought it all back, for nothing." She placed her hand on his as she spoke.
The sensation was so intense, so instant, that she didn't even recognize it as pain. A blinding, searing spike ripped through her mind, firing at every nerve ending simultaneously. Thought and feeling raced to catch up, to make sense of what was happening. But she couldn't think, she couldn't move. She simply sat there, still, a scream echoing in her head, but nowhere else.
"General?" he asked cautiously.
Her eyes widened, her skin whitened. Her hand on his suddenly became cool and trembled slightly before slipping away. Blood trickled from her nose, deep red against pale skin. He caught her as she slumped forward, calling to her desperately.
"General!"
Her eyes snapped open. The sight before her was not a pretty one. Alarms and klaxons blared and buzzed, as if in competition with each other. Silver streaks across a black backdrop ended in bursts of yellow and orange, then nothingness. The battle was going badly. The Mandalorian ambush and the size of their fleet, not to mention their strength, were both a shock. It was all too clear this was a trap—for the Republic. Mandalore was nowhere in sight, and these ships were not damaged nor were the enemy rebuilding as the Republic brass were lead to believe. The allies were out numbered, out gunned, and out maneuvered. The plan to contain the Mandalorians within the shadow generator's effect never even got tested, and at this point she realized even if Revan and the rest had arrived, they still would not have had enough ships to deal with the onslaught.
"General! We have no choice!"
There was a bright flash near the view port, then the ship shuddered. She stumbled forward a half step, reaching to the back of the seat in front of her to regain her balance. The soldier seated at the controls turned. "We just lost the Defiance." The words were flat, eerily soft-spoken. Numb, she decided, he was numb. That was the seventh cruiser vessel lost.
"Now, General, give the command!"
She turned to look at the Zabrak tech at the other side of the bridge. His hand was poised over a small, covered switch. He stared at her, his emotions unreadable in the chaos, but the intensity of his tone was unmistakable.
"I've issued the order to retreat, Bao, we need to give them time!"
"We don't have time, General! The Mandalorians are moving out of range. We need to salvage what little advantage we have left!"
"We never had an advantage, Bao-Dur!" she nearly shrieked. Death rippled through the Force at her, a relentless barrage hammering at her, wearing her down, making it hard to concentrate. She turned back to the soldier seated at the controls in front of her "Why aren't we providing cover for them? The Coruscanti, there, help them! Fire, lieutenant, fire!"
"Sir, the Mandalorian gunships are past our weapon limits, we…"
The bridge of the Coruscanti collapsed, and the ship began to list. Small explosions peppered across the hull as Mandalorian fighters buzzed around the dying vessel. Escape pods were picked off as soon as they launched.
"Those ships are doomed either way, General! The Mandalorians will not stop until every Republic ship is destroyed. The longer we wait, the further from the planet they get as they hunt us down." His voice was becoming hoarse as he yelled over the blaring sirens.
"Sir, the Pathfinder is fallen…"
"General, issue the command…"
"Do it!" She heard her voice form the words, but she didn't remember saying them. She turned in time to see Bao flip a small switch, then press a button that emerged from the panel.
"No," he whispered, then repeated louder. "NO! The power, this read-out is wrong, it has to be!"
"What?" she turned back to the view port.
"Sir, what is happening?" the soldier asked. Fighters exploded seemingly without cause; ships began to tilt and draw closer, crashing into one another. Mandalorian and Republic alike were being crushed and pulled down towards the planet. Their own ship jolted upwards and to the side, as if buffeted by a wave. "Sir?"
She never heard him. She was on the floor, she knew that much, but little else. She didn't recall falling, she never felt the landing. The ship had shuddered and shifted under her feet, but at that same moment, blistering pain engulfed her. Her head was filled with white noise sizzling in every synapse. Mentally she struggled against the invasion, but the power of the intruder was overwhelming. Energy from the dark side of the Force had simply appeared; it surrounded her, entered her, snuffing out her connection to what little light had remained in this blighted sector. It felt as if the Force itself was being pulled from her, devoured, as something hungrily gnawed at her mind. She had never experienced anything this powerful; it seemed alive, seeking out the Force within her and ripping it away. As the Force left her, so did consciousness slip away. And then, just as it started, it stopped. The emptiness, the void she found herself in, was blissful relief, despite the confusion. She couldn't feel anything, or see, or hear. There was just nothing.