Author's notes: Highly philosophical chapter, quite long. It took me a while to write it. I hope my Jorak is not too OOC. So far, we've got two votes for male and two for female Exile. I'm still unsure here, guys – I'm just finishing the game as a LS male and really like the Atris confrontation… then again, the Sion romance totally stunned me. I was gawping at the screen for at least five minutes before I comprehended what he was actually telling my character. I'm a sucker for tragic romances, you know… and I always seem to like the bad guys! Well, not Sion, but still, it was touching. So vote!!!

Elvenbane – Is the dialogue that bad? Well, quite a few people support that theory – I'm not the one who invented it. But I think there's a lot of facts that support it. Male Exile? Is it because you want some Kreia-Handmaiden interaction? ;-)

MilenaSkywalker – oh, there's no room for romance on Korriban – they're avoiding each other, after all. But there will be a longer passage that resolves things between them a bit before they head to the Rakata planet, so don't worry. Maybe not extra spicy, but I think I'll have her explain the whole "I love Malak but I'll kill him anyway" thing. :-)

m – Thanks! Yeah, SW chicks rule!!!

Phht – you have the answers to your questions in this chapter. Heh, the Sith brats are annoying. Mekel is semi-decent. Disciple is very weird – he'd be a much better character if he wouldn't constantly be telling the Exile how perfect she is.

Dark Lord Daishi – here you go, enjoy.

fff – fixed & repaired. Do tell me if you find any more glitches.

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Chapter 34 – Twilight and shadow

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Revan barely slept that night, her mind too preoccupied with plans to let her fall asleep. She had always had problems falling asleep when something fascinated or bothered her – emptying her mind of such distractions was something that took her a long time to learn and when it came to sleep, even that didn't suffice. Especially since she liked night more than day, if only because she could see the stars. And because of the peace that surrounded her. She was somewhat of a philosopher in such things and often stopped just to think… which wasn't really possible with all the movement and chatter around her during the day.

She thought that perhaps she could train a bit, but dismissed the thought when she considered that the sounds would wake up the entire Academy. Then again, she couldn't just sit around and do nothing. Carefully, quietly, she changed from the Dark Jedi robes to her armor, tracing the fabric of her cape gently with her fingers. She missed its softness. Even the mask, the mask that had once shielded her from the galaxy was handled with the utmost care… but it remained locked in the coded footlocker. She wanted to see tonight. To see with her own eyes. Another reason why she left HK-47 behind, recharging.

The boots she wore were heavy, but her steps left no echo as she passed through the shadowy corridors of the Academy, even as she slipped through the main gates and entered the Valley once more. The surroundings seemed even more imposing at night, when the statues no longer cast shadows – they themselves were (or seemed to be) made of darkness.

The tombs were even darker than the Sith Academy itself. Marka Ragnos, Tulak Hord, Ajunta Pall and Naga Sadow – the four ancient Sith Lords that were the first to rebel, the first to betray. Betrayal… that was not unknown to her. All viewed her as a traitor, whether they thought she was a hero because of that or a villain. Not that it mattered to her. Perhaps one day, the fools would see what she saw and realize why she was doing this. Without her, it would have been too late already.

Finally alone, she dropped the defensive shield of dark feelings, allowing the calm core to be seen. She was no Jedi… but no Sith, either. And, currently, she thought that things would be so much easier if she didn't have to choose between two extremes.

Bastila was bound to be converted by now – if anything, Malak knew how to torture his prisoners. There was no avoiding a confrontation and a battle between the Republic and the Sith. And she would turn the tide in her side's favor. Now… what was her side?

If she would stand with the Sith, the Republic and its fifteen thousand years of existence would be left only in the history books. It would take time to "clean up" the mess that it left, but she could rebuild the galaxy under a strong institution – an empire under her reign. They would be prepared for any invasion… unless, of course, they would destroy themselves before the invasion would come.

Now, standing with the Republic would mean countering all her previous plans with a new one, a plan she believed could only be created in the head of an ingénue. She was many things, but naïve wasn't one of them. The Republic would grow complacent again, let its pride take over. They needed to struggle to be able to evolve. And she saw no strength in them. Well… some, perhaps. But they wouldn't let her keep the Forge for the time she needed it. And if they would, it would corrupt them too much. The Senators couldn't be trusted. And, of course, there was the small matter of her being a criminal and an insane murderer in their eyes.

The odds really weren't in the Republic's favor, when it came to her choice. But now it was time to enter each of the tombs. She glanced at the stars for a moment, then sharply turned left to the first tomb.

Marka Ragnos was probably Revan´s favorite Sith Lord of the four – he had the longest and most stable reign of them, if not the most power. Droids were protecting the tomb, which seemed strange – after all these years, even an artificial mind wouldn't be intact. Especially since the tombs were moist and dark. The droids´ photoreceptors shouldn't even be functioning by now.

She later discovered from a datapad she found near a corpse that the droids were probably build by a Mark V assassin droid that… rebelled against its masters. From the droid itself, she found out that it had developed a concern for life. And, even though she would never admit it, the machine's explanations and devotion were touching. Besides, destroying it wouldn't help her gain anything. She had much skill with droids – HK-47 being a "living" proof of it – and so deleting its assassination protocols wasn't all too difficult for her. The droid thanked her greatly and gave her some of its own circuits as a reward. It really made her wonder and laugh at what a certain red assassin droid would have to say about this.

She glanced at the sarcophagus. It was a crime to disturb the eternal sleep of another, or at least it seemed to be to her. But… as soon as the Sith would find out that the tomb was now safe to enter, she couldn't let them dishonor the memory of so great a leader completely. Using the "theory of the lesser evil", she shut her eyes and bashed the sarcophagus easily. The remains of the body there didn't disgust her, since there was little left of it. And she was used to excavations. There were bits of what could once have been a magnificent robe there. But the only thing left intact were gloves that the corpse wore.

Black leather gloves, soft to the touch, but pulsing with energy. Revan hesitated for a moment. Slowly, she pulled off the thin gloves from her hands, preserving only the layer of armor protecting part of her hand. Her hand slid into the left glove – the leather wasn't as restrictive as she thought it would be. Certainly not as tight as she thought. As if they were made for her hands, she realized. Even as she gripped her lightsaber to test them one last time – she felt a sense of certainty, balance, even more than usual, as she held the blade.

She threw her own gloves into the sarcophagus – worn gloves that really fit in there as the dust settled around them. And, as she remembered, they were also created by the Star Forge. The less things that reminded her of the station, the better.

Sadow´s tomb was out of reach for now, so she proceeded to the Tomb of Tulak Hord. Yesterday's events made her realize that if the tuk´ata Queen lived in this tomb, there were bound to be more of the beasts there – she was right. Ignoring the corpses of many Sith that fell victim to the animals, she spotted an ancient computer console, which she used to open a sealed door she knew led to the sarcophagus of the Sith Lord. But… something was wrong. She unclipped her mask from her belt and put it on her face. Untrusting, she ignited her saber and bashed the console, the mask shielding her eyes from the rain of sparks that surrounded her. Slight green fumes emerged from underneath the door, but the used the Force to push them back in. These traps were more sophisticated than she thought.

But then, she heard a squeaky voice, and the very sound of it made her feel sick. "Triksy little pest, aren't you?" She recognized the voice, though she had to focus on the sound to remember. It was Jorak Uln, the former Master of the Academy, who she heard was now known as the "hermit in the hills".

The door, which was no doubt one of his inventions, opened in a few moments, revealing Jorak in all his "splendor", as Revan sarcastically thought. He still wore a slightly torn Sith uniform, his eyes almost milky white, but it was obvious his sight was undamaged.

"You're the first pest that saw the trick before…" He stopped his rant as he looked up, seeing the Sith he was probably expecting least of all. He took a few steps back, his eyes almost popping out of his head. "This… this can't be real. You… this… this is an illusion. A mirage!" He laughed a madman's laugh, the high-pitched sound echoing through the corridor. "This tomb… and the Force… they have a cruel sense of humor!" he chuckled, "But even imaginary guests are better than none! Welcome, welcome to the tomb of Tulak Hord, dead one! Is it time for the Lords of the Sith to rise from their graves and unite us?" he sounded almost hopeful. The madness had taken over.

"No, Jorak. The Force allows few to escape its grasp." Revan noted, completely calm.

But she felt a slight rush of fear. Not of Jorak. Of this madness. She had known a few not completely normal people, but this was beyond what she had ever seen before. And sometimes, she feared that her knowledge, the crushing knowledge of the future, would drive her mad as well. But now, when she saw what she would be reduced to, she was confident that it wouldn't happen. If this was madness, than she was very far from it.

Jorak smiled gleefully. "You are a slippery one, then, dead one. But you are also powerful. Come, Dark Lord, come!" he bowed, still smiling, gesturing for her to come to the inner section of the tomb, "At last I meet you and am able to welcome you in my home. I've taken up residence here, for now... it's dusty and full of critters, but it's home."

"I hear you were replaced by Uthar Wynn." Revan noted, slowly walking where the old hermit motioned her to go.

Jorak, bowing still as he kept glancing up and showing her where to go, frowned. "That blasted Uthar can't teach a single thing right! Most of the idiots he had been sending had no gumption, only brutality. There is more to the Sith than that… and they paid the price for not knowing it." He smiled gleefully as they entered the circular chamber where the sarcophagus was, his eyes never leaving Revan. "But not you. Oh no. A Dark Lord knows very well what it means to be a Sith. That is why you have come, is it not? To see if you could learn something from what is left of Tulak Hord… you seek his holocron, perhaps?"

Revan arched an eyebrow. "It exists?"

"Oh, it does, certainly. But where it is, I don't know." He was telling the truth, it seemed. "I came here some years ago, to study the inner section of the tomb and decipher what I could of the writing on the walls." He made a long hand motion. "I have succeeded, for the most part, but never found the holocron. Perhaps Tulak Hord knew that his tomb would be raided and hid his holocron." Jorak shrugged.

"Do you have anything Uthar would view as worthy of prestige?"

"Ah, so you seek passage to Sadow´s tomb? Yes, I could help you with that. No doubt my death would be most pleasing to Uthar… the fool didn't have the guts to do it himself." Jorak muttered, almost to himself. "But there is, of course, a very delicate matter – what would I gain from helping you, dead one? What can you grant me?" Jorak asked, almost cheerfully.

"A chance to live."

"To live? Live?" Jorak hissed, "Since when do the dead grant life? Even if you kill me, it will be only a pleasant distraction for me. A true Sith never dies, but a true Sith also doesn't talk to the dead, does he?" he sneered. It seemed to haven been millennia since Revan had last felt stunned. "You are intriguing when lost in your own logic. You see no other solution than your own. That is where you have failed, Sith Lord. I had hoped that this would be a lesson for you… I don't want to give you detention. And I should, even though you are not my student."

"If you are a teacher, then teach." Was the hiss of a reply. "What do you propose I do?"

Jorak seemed to think for a moment. "Bettering the Sith as a whole is the task I set out to accomplish. But you might have greater success than I. Your voice has a passion I have not heard for long… perhaps never. You are not a true Sith yet… but you are well on your way. A step remains for you. And that step will be cleansing the Sith of traitors. Strengthening them. You and I are similar, dead one. A student has betrayed each of us. And you bring death to yours… I ask of you to bring the same to mine. A final gift from his Master." he smiled, a cruel mockery of a smile, "And to show you my faith in you, I will give you my tablet. A gift for your graduation. A trial in which you will no doubt succeed."

He handed Revan an ancient tablet with translations of the many runes in the tomb, the detailed script difficult to read for even one skilled in various alien fonts. Even the text itself was quite complicated, consisting of various spells. She would very much like to examine it further, but it was worthy of prestige. Still, she made a mental not to save it for last.

"Your aid is appreciated, Jorak." Revan said, still examining the datapad.

"Yes, well, it's not often that I have a chance to see a promising Sith instead of an egotistical brat. Perhaps we will meet again, dead one? That would be fun, no?" With that, Revan left him to his maniacal laughter, exiting the tomb without any real regrets of leaving him there.

The last tomb she could enter was the one that belonged to Ajunta Pall. She heard the legends of his sword, the dark blade that proved fiercer than the master, the blade that probably led to his demise… the blade that was rumored to be still in the tomb she was now facing.

The tuk´ata in the tomb weren't as bad as the ones in Tulak Hord´s tomb, but there were other traps she knew she would have to avoid. A rune covered therangen obelisk was blocking her path. It was strange that it still was built in the middle of the path, blocking it. And the guardian droids stationed not too far from it were more than enough to raise suspicions. So, rather than disturbing the "slumber" of the droids, she Force jumped over the pit, landing next to the door.

She was very close to the core of the tomb now. Deactivating a plasma mine in her way, she entered a circular chamber. Another Sith sarcophagus was there, surrounded by several corpses of those who failed in their quest to reach the sword. But the sarcophagus wasn't locked, which struck her as suspicious. There were three blades there – a silver-lined sword that seemed white-hot, a red vibrosword with the emblem of an eye and a notched-steel double-blade, as cold as ice. And even as she touched the blade, she could feel the presence of another.

"Too long, too long in the cold and the dark." It almost seemed as if the voice was coming from the sword. But the blade was too cold and the voice… the voice was as sad and miserable as a voice could get. Much suffering echoed in it. And in the Force as well. Revan slowly turned around. The source of the voice was almost a semi-translucent, deathly pale specter, a ghost of a man, dressed in Dark Jedi robes. "Am I disturbed again? A human?" The spirit's face was now filled with surprise and regret. "A…Jedi? Here?" the ghost echoed quietly, its eyes softening slightly. "Why have you come to this dark place, Jedi? Why disturb my sleepless rest?"

"I'm no Jedi." Was her automatic reply.

"Are you certain?" He glanced at her black clothes and she thought she sensed something like a sad smile beneath his half-mask. "The Force is strong with you… so bright." he whispered.

"Don't you recognize that I am a Sith? Don't you recognize me?" Revan whispered, her gaze fixed on the ghost. She wasn't sure why she thought the ghost might recognize her, but all those years ago, she wasn't completely sure that she and Malak were the only two people in the Valley. There were… presences there, but they weren't corporeal.

The spirit seemed to study her face carefully. "I do… and yet I do not. Yet the face, the soul… the soul echoes through the Force… but it has been so very long. The Force is so strong with you, human. So bright. It has been so very long. I... had a name, once. Ajunta Pall." the ghost said mournfully, "Yes, that was my name. I was one of many. We were servants of the Dark Side... Sith Lords, we called ourselves. So proud. In the end we were not so proud. We hid... hid from those we had betrayed. We fell... and I knew it would be so..."

"How did you fall? What happened?" Revan asked.

"We... hid from the Jedi, but it was not they who destroyed us. Is it not... obvious what we did?" he asked, "We destroyed each other. We desired the secrets of each other, to increase our power... we battled until finally our fortress rained down on top of us. And so here our old secret is buried and none of us hold it any more... is that not right? Our power fled. Oh, what became of us? Do... do the Sith still thrive? Did they ever return?"

"Yes, they will return."

The Sith Lord shook his head, sadly. "So much time has passed…and yet we have learned nothing."

Why do you remain here?" Revan asked, without any sort of contempt for the ghost. She pitied him, actually. An eternity of loneliness in a dark tomb, its glory mocking whatever remained of his past… it wasn't something she would wish to endure.

"Remain? Do I... remain?" he asked distantly, "I... have regretted for so long... all that I have done. My sword... I filled it with my pride. And it is... buried with me, now. A corpse as I am a corpse. I am dead, as my faith... is dead. And I shall remain here... surrounded by blackness in death as in life... I am dead, as is my pride. My sword is all I have left. Most of my brethren would desire to take what is left of my power. I wish…I wish that my sword is taken away from me. I command this of you."

Revan´s eyes narrowed slightly. But she needed the sword, so she simply nodded. "If…if you are wise, you will not keep it. It was the sword that ultimately destroyed me." Revan traced the steely double-blade and held it up for the ghost to see. "Yes. That is the one. That is the blade that destroyed me. Take it. Take it and the other blades as well. My darkness awaits me."

"There's no need to remain here, is there?"

"No… need?" Ajunta Pall echoed, "What other choice do I have?"

Though she disapproved of redemption in general, the pity she now felt for the ghost grew into compassion. Yes, she could still feel compassion… it felt odd, feeling it for someone after all this time. But the punishment he condemned himself to was too much. He was already broken. There was no reason for him to stay just as there was no reason for her to punish him anymore. "You can return to the Light Side and end your torment."

"But… I've betrayed my old masters. They will never let me return to the Light."

Revan shook her head. "You know the Jedi way. In all hearts, there is darkness. But there is also light. If you truly with to return to them, to beg for forgiveness, then do it. Only you can make that choice."

The ghost's eyes showed such longing and rekindled hope that Revan had to look away. "If…if I could return…oh, my Master! It has been so long and I regret so much…"
The specter disappeared and much of the darkness had left with him. It was a strange sensation that had passed through the Force. And strangely, Revan didn't find it repulsive.

"Be at peace… not all of us can afford that luxury." She quietly wished the Sith Lord. When leaving the tomb, she noticed several corpses there, apparently trying to get the sword as well. The silver sword and the red vibroblade were useless to her – she left them there, in different parts of the tomb. They were unique enough to be mistaken for the real blade, if found.

Revan passed the shyrack caves on her way back to the Academy. She stopped this time, gazing into the darkness. And, trance-like, she entered, leaving a trail of dead shyrack and tuk´ata behind her. There was something within the cave that drew her, something that seemed very different from the rest of the surroundings. It seemed almost too obvious. But when she came to a bridge that led to whatever she found so intriguing, she noticed a sleeping creature there, an enormous beast she had seen only once before, not so long ago. The terentatek was almost motionless, but still repulsing and frightening. Careful not to wake it, Revan slipped to it, raising Ajunta Pall's blade and cutting its head off cleanly. Dark blood rushed from the wound, but the silence wasn't broken by any sound.

She soon found what she was looking for – it was a Jedi corpse, judging from the broken lightsaber and the faint aura of Light that remained around it. But the robes… the robes were in perfect condition, as if they were brand new, made of a soft fabric Revan couldn't quite identify. She wrapped the robes into a small bundle and took them, heading back out. But, as she used a different route, she found more unexpected sleepers in the cave – several Sith students, who she guessed to be the renegade brats that were the talk of the Academy to this day. Revan decided that she had done her Jedi homework – a good deed – for today, so when she left the tomb, she had to wipe Ajunta Pall's sword. She wasn't interested in handing a bloodstained sword to Uthar. She actually considered keeping the sword – it had proven useful, it was genuine and powerful and somehow, very beautiful to her. When she realized what she was thinking, she almost threw the sword to the ground. The Star Forge also had that aura of beauty and power around it. The Star Forge also begged to be used, begged for blood. She decided that it was best to give the sword to someone without a moral dilemma.

Slipping into the Academy unnoticed, she quickly returned to her "chamber" and changed back into the Dark Jedi robes, hiding her armor and the Jedi robes she had discovered. She slept until noon, as Dustil later told her, laughing and at the same time, trying to interrogate her what she had been doing during the night. He also told her that Shaardan somehow managed to come up with Ajunta Pall's sword and still got killed by Uthar, since the sword wasn't actually Ajunta Pall's… and he understood why Revan was chuckling sinisterly all the time when she showed him the sword. He also mentioned Mekel wandered into the Valley as well and hasn't returned, probably since his corpse was rooting in one of the tombs right now.

When the two of them were returning from lunch, Yuthura stopped Revan once again, ushering Dustil away, who obeyed, sparing Revan one last smirk. "I understand you had to kill Lashowe." the Twi´lek noted, "She was far too trusting, she would never make a good Sith. One less opponent in our way."

"I was wondering if you could tell me something about yourself, Master Yuthura." Revan suggested, trying hard not to make the word 'Master' sound too sarcastic.

"About myself?" she asked, surprised, "I am originally from Sleheyron, if you must know. I was a slave to a cruel master, Omeesh the Hutt. I am sure you don't need to know more."

"I just would like to know more about you, that's all."

"I... see. Very well. I suppose there's no harm in the tale." she said, shrugging slightly, "As I said, I was originally a slave to one of the Hutts. The Hutts control everything on Sleheyron, and a slave is nothing to them. I was determined not to be 'nothing'. One night when the drunken worm had me alone in his chambers I stabbed him and escaped the compound. I stole onto a cargo ship and was not discovered by the crew until they reached the next system. They left me for dead on a desolate planetoid, alone... but that was fine by me. I was glad to be anywhere other than Sleheyron. It was not luck that I was eventually rescued, of course. The Force was strong with me, though I didn't know that at the time. Not until the Jedi told me, that is."

"The Jedi?"

"I'd... rather not discuss it. Perhaps another time." Yuthura said defensively.

"I'd really like to hear the tale." Revan said, with slight persuasion.

"Why? There is no point. Have I asked you about your past?" she snapped.

"No, you haven't. But I'd just like us to be friends, that's all." So I can find your weakness if you plan to cross me like you plan to cross Uthar.


Yuthura sighed and shook her head, "You... certainly have odd notions for one hoping to become a Sith. Let's see... after escaping from Sleheyron I was found by the Jedi. They took me in and trained me even though I was a bit older than most Padawans."

"You were a Jedi?"

"Not really, no." she said, shaking her head, "I never progressed beyond Padawan. I had discipline, but no peace... and after my treatment at the hands of the Hutts there was little room in me for the ways of the Jedi." she sighed slightly, "I wanted to use the Force to free the other slaves I knew, to fight for what I knew was right. The Jedi restrained me until I couldn't stand it any more."

"You remind me of…" Revan cut herself off mid sentence. "Someone I used to know."

"Well, I suppose I am far from unique." Yuthura said, almost humbly. "The Jedi claim the Dark Side is evil, but that isn't so. Sometimes anger and hatred are deserved and right. Sometimes things change because of it. There is so much suffering and injustice in the universe. I am surprised the Jedi can even stand the stench of it, much less stand by and do nothing. I know this may sound strange, but only my compassion stands in my way, now. Once that is gone let the slavers beware."

"But... if you lose your compassion, will you still care about those slaves?"

The Twi´lek was confused by this. It seemed that it had never occurred to her that what she wanted to do contradicted all that the Sith believed in. "I…yes, of course…I mean loosing my compassion as in holding back… but I have talked enough about myself, I am certain I must be boring you."

Revan nodded, not taking her eyes off the Twi´lek, who almost didn't resist the urge to bow her head in shame. Still, it intrigued Revan that she saw someone with intentions similar to her own – though hers had a wider range, since they concerned the whole Republic. Slowly walking away, she went straight to Uthar, surprising even herself by not betraying Yuthura´s secret. And, when she got rid of Ajunta Pall's blade, a weight seemed to lift from her shoulders. Perhaps she could yet play nice with the Academy's heads… and put someone who thought more like her in charge.