Ossus, Parallel Universe.
Revan, Bastila, Carth, and Mira had finally reached the bird-like ship, after braving their way through the impact crater the ship had made more than five years ago. Bastila, eyes squinting through her white Domino mask, gazed upon the ruined hulk of the Dark Peregrine (Ebon Hawk of Universe 89-67)
Carth took a puff from his corncob pipe, his garish orange sweater tied around the waist of his brown slacks.
"Bet this thing must have been quite a sight once," he remarked.
Revan, his face concealed behind a bronze mask with a thin black visor to see out of, straightened his brown suit with white pinstripes and stared back at Carth. "Wait till you see the inside."
Bastila, her mind concerned with how she was going to stop Nolin, trudged forward at the deep gash of the massive ships underbelly were she saw excavation equipment set up. She was sweating in this universes idea of business wear., a white cotton shit with brown slacks and shoes and a domino mask.
Mira, clad in a green leather bodysuit, her fine skin and fiery red hair dropping in the jungle heat of Ossus, swore under her breath. "We never should have dug this damn thing up Revan. It's caused nothing but problems."
"Mira, I admit that mistakes have been made, but it was for a good cause," Revan replied, inwardly distraught at the fact that he might very well have to live like a hermet for the rest of his life, as Bastila had told him he would have to. But what choice did he have? Unless his Jedi grew powerful, The Mandalorians would run roughshod over the Galaxy.
Mira snorted. "So you keep saying." Nolin had killed her husband Mical and lied about it, using her ignorance of his fate to turn her to the dark side. She had vowed to snap his neck for that.
Bastila, still silent, crept through the site and found a lift lowering itself into the ship proper. The four clambered into it. Revan pressed the lift and lowered themselves into the ship innards...
Coruscant, Parallel Universe.
Jedi Agency Interrogation Room 11-38
Juhani, thinking back, should have realized that convincing the Jedi of this universe to believe that an army of psychics was on their way to annihilate their head quarters and either kill or turn them all was a difficult proposition at best.
But she had figured that bringing in a technology none of them had ever seen before, a statue resembling a person in the lotus position that doubled as a weapons fabrication unit and holocron, would at least win her some points.
Instead, the Jedi, who she had come to find were quite the jaded and cynical bunch, had instead endlessly grilled her and Caderous, going over their story with a fine tooth comb, eager to find any error in a story that she rigidly stuck to.
This universe's Vrook, a man in his sixties, with a five day old beard, a sweat stained white shirt, frayed brown slacks and scuffed black shoes, ran a hand over his bald scalp, crowned on the sides with iron colored hair, much like her own.
"Okay, lass, let's go over it, one more bloody time," he spoke in an accent unfamiliar to Juhani. "State your name."
"Juhani of Cathar," Juhani answered. She was still dressed in the red leather Agency clothes she had been provided, the domino mask and red beanie removed.
"Age?"
"Twenty-Two standard years."
"And you're here for-?"
"I have information vital to survival of your agency," Juhani answered, squirming in frustration. She leaned across the durasteel desk bolted to the floor of the grey room with a single two-way mirror set into one side of the wall. "You would listen, if you know what good for you," she added in her still-imperfect syntax. Her fur bristled in the heat of the overhead lamp.
"Well, you gotta admit, lass, that your story's pretty wild. I been on this bloomin' job twenty years and I ain't never heard the kind-o-swill you put out. 'Parallel Universes!' Me and the boys had quite the laugh when you told it to us the first time. Detective Zhar is still trying to trace where that fancy little doohickey of yours is from."
"If you just examine it, surely you see it not anything you have laid eyes on before."
"So? Technology advances all the time. Democratic Union doesn't have the monopoly on advanced gadgets and the like. Still can't hold a bloody candle to the Infinite Empire, and they had some fancy little doohickeys themselves, I'm told. Had a factory that could make literally anything. Orbiting a star, or some such," Vrook replied, taking a puff from his large pipe. "Now lass, it's been a fun little story you been telling me and all, But I got your file here. Says you're not even out of the academy yet. Why dontcha jus' quit horsin' around and tell me the truth about where you got that little doohickey from and quit wasting our time, or we toss you, Alek and the Mandalorian boyo with ya' into a nice comfy cell, so you can both sleep off whatever it is you probably on."
Juhani rubbed her eyes. She thought about using the Force, but there was no telling how they would react to that. The Jedi of this universe had never explored the Force for anything beyond clairvoyance or healing. They might panic and call a riot team down on her.
As Juhani debated, a knock on the simple wood door made Vrook wearily rise and walk over cracking it open slightly.
Juhani couldn't hear what the other person was saying but she made out some of Vrooks words.
"How long has he been like that?"
"...What do you mean it just turned on?"
Vrook turned back to Juhani, his expression of disinterest now changed to one of concern.
"Looks like yer' little doohickey just turned itself on and put one-o-me men into a coma," he spoke tersely. "And apparently the receptionist just checked you in downstairs when you showed up a few seconds ago."
Juhani closed her golden eyes. "Told you so."
Ossus.
"There was so much we found on the first day of excavating. Maps, computers that worked faster than anything we had ever seen. Fantastic ship designs. Weapons-" Revan continued, heading first through the ship's engine room. Bastila saw the rusted hunks of what had once been the powerful ion engines and knew on instinct that they were probably more powerful than anything she had ever seen, seeing as how, when the two rusted barrel-like engines were put together, were about the size of her body, yet they powered the entire ship. The engine chamber was octagonal in shape, with warning signs in five different languages on almost everything. She could still detect a faint glow from the oval computer consoles. The great chamber was darkened, the ruddy red lights on the twisted and bent walkways all that was left of the emergency power in this section.
"What caused it to crash?" Carth wondered. "Ship like this is pretty advanced. Musta took a lot to bring her down."
"What logs we could recover indicate there was some sort of problem in the cryo pods holding the prisoners. One of the crewman, person we know only as 'Big Z' suffered a complete emotional breakdown and caused a massive systemic failure while in transit," Revan answered.
"Mean anything to you, Bastila?" Carth asked.
"Maybe," she answered non-committal. "The presence of the Dark Side is strong here. Any number of things could have happened."
"Such as?" Mira pressed, eager to understand what they were up against.
"The crew member might have been driven mad by the power of whatever he was exposed to, and thats the tamest scenario. Often it's much worse. You could be dealing with...a presence."
Carth went still. "You mean like a ghost? That actually happens?"
"More often than you might think," Bastila answered. "It would actually account for a great deal, such as Nolin's behavior. Dark Side spirits can corrupt even the most noble of us. It happened to Exar Kun."
Mira blinked. "The CEO of that plumbing company?"
Bastila snorted. "Unsurprising. Seems he's full of it no matter the dimension."
Everybody snickered at this, though only Bastila actually got the joke in full.
"Hey, didn't that statue thingamajig say it could contact us?" Carth asked.
"It did indeed say this," an electronic voice sounded out in the chamber. "Bastila Shan of Universe 11-99 is hereby granted limited administrative access. Please state a query."
"What caused the catastrophic failure?" Bastila asked, dreading the answer.
"At approximately five standard years ago, at 0300 hours, the Wookie crewmate Zaalbaar went berserk and killed his way to the ship's cargo hold. Cause of break down believe to be related to spectral entity marked for quarantine in a pocket dimension; The Dark Underlord of Universe 47-78."
"State the nature of this entity," Bastila requested, rubbing her tongue against her braces out of nervousness.
"The Dark Underlord hails from a dimension where the Jedi Order is viewed with almost universal suspicion and fear by other Force Users. Any time the Order ever tried to expand its teachings beyond the walls of its academies, The Dark Underlord would be incarnated to oppose them. It has taken many forms. Each time the Order was able to kill its host body, but the Underlord dealt enough damage to them to leave them too busy rebuilding to even think of spreading their ways. It is classified as a Multiversal Threat, much like your own dimension's Darth Sangraal," The Device answered from halfway across the galaxy.
"Is there any way to stop it?" Carth asked.
"The Dark Underlord's newest host body was ambushed by Jolee Bindo of Universe 89-67 after we learned of the disturbance in the Force the Underlord created. The body was encased in ultra premium Nullification Resin to cancel out its dark power. The Underlord's taint is strong however, and the resin was compromised perhaps from the very beginning."
"Revan also mentioned Nolin had gotten his hands on some sort of tome. Did it belong to the Underlord?" Bastila asked.
"The Tome you mention is most likely the tome of Darth Revan of Universe 89-67. It contains spells for the resurrection of spirits from the afterlife. It is likely that the Dark Underlords spirit cannot really affect this current reality, and that Nolin is attempting to find a spell that will allow its spirit to manifest fully in this dimension."
"Wait, 'Darth' Revan?" Revan asked, head tilting to one side in curiosity.
"Access to Darth Revan files are off limits to his/her multiversal counterparts," the Device answered.
Revan shook his head. "Figures."
"Was Nolin here?" Mira asked.
"Officer Rae Nolin was flagged by this vessels stringent security protocols many times, so he never truly gained anything valuable from his experience other than the unsecured tome. He departed one hour ago."
Bastila swore loudly. "Than this whole trip was for nothing!"
"Correction. There may still be hope. This vessels multiversal transponder is still active. Damage to systems prevented signaling by ship computer and this device. It must be activated by a living being, and it must be done at the bridge," the device answered. "You must hurry. What remains of ship navigational instruments calculate that Nolin's forces are heading for this dimensions version of Coruscant. Ship audio recording captured him saying that he intends to travel to this reality's Star Forge soon after."
"The Space Factory!" Revan said in a panicked whisper. "I'd forgotten all about it-"
"Give me the coordinates," Bastila said. "We may need to alert the military."
Revan paused. "One thing at a time, Bastila. I still think we can stop Nolin. There's no reason to go compromising what may be our only hope of stopping the Mandalorians."
Bastila's eyes flashed a bright orange. "Give me the coordinates, mongrel," she commanded, her voice gaining an echo and dropping an octave.
Revan, almost unwillingly, reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a datapad. "Here you...go..." he answered, suddenly feeling nausea.
"Wish I could do that to avoid paying taxes," Carth joked.
Bastila rolled her eyes. "If I had a credit for every time I heard that..."
"What will activating the transponder due?" Mira asked.
"It will signal personnel in this ships Universe of Origin to launch an incursion in this reality to investigate. Go, you do not have much time," the device answered.
Coruscant.
"How long she been like this?" Juhani asked, peering down at the cadet. She'd been escorted from interrogation into the dull white infirmary. The beds were simple white cots with a black metal frame, and primitive looking machines were housed next to all of them. This universe didn't appear to have developed Kolto Tanks. The Doctors crowded around the cadet-who looked suspiciously similar to the doe-eyed, brown haired, fair skinned padawan Belaya, from Juhani's dimension. She was still in her Agency clothes, her domino mask had been removed.
"Twelve minutes," answered a crisp female voice with a Coruscanti accent. "All attempts to revive her have been unsuccessful."
Juhani turned and stared as this Universe's version of Atris-impeccably dressed in an all white suit with a skirt that went midway to her knees and long white high heels with white stockings, the look finished by a pair of thick, black rimmed glasses, that slightly magnified her eyes. She looked slightly younger than Juhani's Atris, but that did not surprise the Cathar: The pressures Atris endured daily in Juhani's universe would add a few years to anybody.
"I take it you are the so-called 'Interloper', Atris stated sharply.
"Atris! Long time no see since day ago!" Juhani joked.
When Atris did not laugh, Juhani realized she had made what is known as an 'inside joke'. She cleared her throat. "I mean, uh, I have information vital to survival of Jedi Agency. You would be wise in listening."
"Ah, yes, your story about Officer Nolin," Atris replied with a click of her tongue. "Much though it pains me to admit, security footage from the Qel-Droma Arcology has at least partly corroborated your tale. I am the senior Internal Affairs Officer. Tell me everything you know about Nolin and Revan."
For what seemed like the umpteenth time, Juhani carefully explained everything that happened. Atris nether rolled her eyes nor made a snide remark as Vrook had. She simply typed down everything on a small datapad as she sat on an empty cot.
When she was finished, she arose promptly. "You do realize that this will be very difficult for .the Senior Investigators to believe. It's like something out of a bloody pulp novel."
Juhani folded her hands behind her back. "But every word is truth. Search your feelings. You will know."
"Lady, searching your feelings is for therapists or a mid-life crisis. For what it's worth, I believe that YOU believe you're telling the truth. I don't know why you look like that Cathar cadet we're holding downstairs, or why Cadet Belaya is unconscious but if you can tell us how that device that incapacitated her works, I'll see to it you get off easy-"
Cadet Belaya shot up in bed with a scream. Juhani and Atris were immediately beside her.
"Cadet, are you alright? Do you know where you are-?" Atris started.
Belaya grabbed Atris roughly by the collar.
"Get the station on full alert! We're all in danger! Terrible danger! He's coming, and he'll kill or turn all of us if we're not prepared! He's coming!" she shouted, rivers of sweat gliding down her face.
"Easy, dear, slow down, who's coming?" Atris asked pointedly, feeling a cold chill on the back of her neck.
Belaya stared. "Dark Underlord...Nolin...he's coming..." she tucked herself into a fetal position and began rocking back and forth."He's coming..."
"And who told you this?" Atris asked, dreading the answer.
Belaya didn't even look this time. "The Device."
Bastila had sent Revan and Mira back to the Ebon Hawk with orders to land it at the crash site. She and Carth had continued alone, mainly because she trusted him, and mainly because she didn't want Revan learning anything about his other versions that might give him ideas.
"So, Bastila, do you have a plan? I mean for dealing with Nolin?"
"I'm gonna try and turn him from the Dark Side. If that doesn't work, I'll skewer the bastard," Bastila stated bluntly, holding up her double bladed lightsaber that she had constructed using materials from this universe: A weapon whose hilt was the length of a standard hilt, with two flat silver emitters on either end. The grip was covered in dark brown leather.
"W-what if he's too powerful?" Carth stammered as they made their way to the twisting wreckage of the ship corridors. Everything tilted to one side. Electrical wires and panels hung loosely like leaves on a dead tree, and they had stumbled upon more than one mummified corpse.
"You don't wanna know the answer to that," she replied, vaulting over a hunk of debris. Carth followed swiftly.
Bastila however, landed at a bad angle and she lost her footing, when Carth tried to catch her, her panicked grasping accidentally dragged him with her as they tumbled into an adjacent chamber of the ship.
The lights in the chamber came on swiftly, and as the pair righted themselves by standing on a pile of debris, they found the chamber had been displaced slightly from the ship's innards by the crash. It was an unsteady walk, at best, in the large square room, pearl colored in appearance.
It had once been a museum of some kind as far as Bastila could tell, and there seemed to be only one subject: Darth Revan, or his variants. Collections or copies of various versions of his or her distinctive armor lay somewhat intact in shattered transparisteel chambers.
"Device," Bastila called out to the A.I. guiding them. "Are all these the genuine armors of their owner?"
"Yes. All of them were either donated by their Revans, or collected off of their Revan's corpse."
Carth went toward a version of the armor that had clearly been fitted for a female frame. It was black, and had the look and feel of bondage gear crossed with a cat suit. The cape was black leather and so was the mask, which bore the thin visor so common to the Dark Lord's armor, and the mask connected to the rest of the armor via means of a spiked choker.
"Bet there's a story behind this one," Carth whistled.
The Device's answer gave Carth a shock. "Darth Revan of Universe 84-92. Formerly Morgana Onasi. Prophesied in her dimension to be a sort of 'Dark Side Messiah', who would reform and lead the Sith to permanent domination of the Galaxy and of how the Force is taught. The Jedi Order of that dimension panicked and sent a team of assassins after her, which resulted in the death of that Universe's Carth Onasi, and her young son. She swore revenge, reformed the Sith, and subsequently murdered the entire Jedi Council, the Senate, and the Supreme Chancillor in a surprise attack on Coruscant."
"How was she stopped?" Bastila asked, horrified.
"She wasn't. The surviving Jedi had to abandon their universe completely and only returned after recruiting several other versions of Revan to wipe out her and her followers. She killed all but one of the Revans who finally succeeded when she used a technique to dissolve Onasi and her followers into the Force, and subsequently wiped out all surface life on Korriban as a result. The Order was wiped out there. No one has since assumed the mantle of either Jedi or Sith. It's quite peaceful over there, last we looked," the Device explained.
Carth was silent for a moment, processing the surreal truth of what he'd just been told. He moved on to another version of Revan's armor, this one adorned in the image of a black tree with red leaves, and wrapped a thick but tattered black cape and hood. The mask seemed to be made of a black wood with a red visor.
"Whats this guys story?" Carth asked.
"Darth Revan of Universe 89-67, also the home dimension of this ship," the Device answered. "The Order of 89-67 achieved superiority both through superior technique and superior technology. The Sith of my dimension are primitives who associate Nature with the Dark Side of the Force. They shun technology and focus on controlling organic material, believing that is the path to true power. Revan was originally a Jedi Knight who was corrupted when the Sith captured him and altered his body, allowing him to be absorbed into a tree alive with the spirit of Sith Naturalists. He emerged as Darth Revan and went on a search for the fabled Star Garden, which would allow him to shut down all technology and 'corrupt' whole planets with and overgrowth of organic life. Those who were not strong enough to adapt would die, and the survivors would be guided by the Sith."
"He met a bad end too?" Bastila asked. If the Battle with Revan usually ended in his/her death it gave her great cause for hope that 'her' version would suffer the same fate.
"The Vrook Lamarr of 89-67 triumphed when he doused the Sith in petrol and flicked a lit cigarette at him. The Order hunted down and exterminated all the Naturalists afterward, destroyed all of their teachings. The Sith haven't troubled us since," the Device answered. "This device would like to remind you that we are on a schedule."
Bastila and Carth nodded, and struggled their way back up the corridor they had fallen through.
"I wonder if I'll be allowed to keep one of the armors after this is over. Sure would make a great presentation piece," Carth mused as they went on. "Morgana wouldn't look too bad in the cat suit-armor, come to think of it..."
"Mind out of the gutter, Onasi."
"Whatever you say, princess."
"I am 'not' a princess-" Bastila began to protest, but she stopped at a a turbo door leading to the next area. She could feel nothing but cold on the other side.
"Warning!" The Device's electronic voice blared. "Dark Side collectivization in progress. Reccomend immediate defensive posture."
"What's that mean?" Carth asked pointedly, grip tightening on his revolver like blaster.
"It means wait here, Carth. I must face this alone," Bastila muttered, expression grim.
"I'm not letting you go in there alone!"
"You're no match for what's in there. It'll destroy you. Wait here. If you don't hear from me in maybe ten minutes, run," she replied with naked command.
"Wait!" he said, grabbing her arm. "What IS in there?!"
Her eyes squinted as she stared at the door with the cold feeling on the other side of it.
"Only what I take with me," she answered quietly, flicking her hand gently and prying the door open with telekinesis.
She stepped into darkness, and she saw Carth's worried face before she forced the door shut.
Now totally enclosed in darkness, the feeling of cold increased until her fingers were numb.
"Welcome, Jedi Bastila. It has been a long time since last we spoke," said a female voice that was sweet like honey.
"That voice-!" Bastila gasped.
A red lightsaber illuminated the darkness. The person who stepped out had slightly tanned skin, her face and lips were heart shaped, and her hair was a floppy chocolate brown that didn't go past her ears. Her lithe athletic body was swathed in a sheer opaque black dress that didn't quite cling to her figure. Her weapon was of a special make, designed as a thin, glossy black cane with a round handle.
The darkness around Bastila changed, and she suddenly was in a cold oppressive bunker lined with Jedi Alchemy wards on the walls and floor. Behind Bastila's opponent was an open cryo tube.
"Darth Kitsun..." Bastila trailed off. Her father had feared the power of this particular Sith, who had attempted to bring to fruition a dark prophecy amidst the backdrop of the Jedi's war with Exar Kun, and had been stopped by her second apprentice, a blind man she had tricked into her service. The Order had imprisoned her under the Coruscant temple's catacombs and tombs at first, later transferring her cryotube to underneath the Shan Family Estate at her father's insistence, eager to keep an eye on her, and to finally rid himself of his dread of her manipulative nature.
"You've grown. And you're much more powerful than your father ever was," Kitsun remarked. "Why do you cling to the Order? Are they your replacement parents?"
"This...this is impossible," Bastila said more to herself than the ghost. "You're not even dead. Hell, you're not even in this dimension."
"The Dark Side allows many things to happen which otherwise wouldn't. A fact the Jedi Order will never be able to appreciate," Kitsun stated, giving a flourish. "You're stronger than your masters. If you would just accept that, you could break free of the chains they place upon you."
"You will never convince me to betray the Order, whatever you are. You aren't Darth Kitsun. The real Kitsun cares almost nothing for the Sith creed. You're a pretender."
"Kitsun" chuckled slightly, angling her weapon and gliding closer to Bastila, who activated her lightsaber, two flat yellow blades with a diamond shaped tip springing out.
"I don't know, Bastila," Kitsun remarked. "I feel 'plenty' real."
Kitsun struck, cracking her weapon like a whip against Bastila's guard, who rolled out of the way before charging, spinning her saber staff furiously, hoping to end this quickly.
Kitsun's figure simply glided out of the way of the strikes, thrusting with her cane weapon and grazing Bastila on the shoulder, who cried out and retreated, holding her arm.
"You shall only triumph against me by embracing your hatred, Shan," Kitsun called out mockingly.
Bastila's response was to slam a pulse of Force Energy into the Sith's path. Kitsun slapped the pulse aside with a wave of her hand.
"I'm a Lady of the Sith, girl," Kitsun sneered, her eyes glowing a poisonous yellow. "Your Jedi tricks are nothing."
Bastila was suddenly screaming as a mass of spiders painfully erupted from her stomach, biting her everywhere as she screamed, before her shrieks were choked off by her suddenly vomiting up a puddle of human fingers.
Kitsun chuckled as she watched Bastila squirm on the floor. "Embrace your hatred and fear, and I shall show you how to become as powerful as I am now. You could rule this galaxy with my help."
Bastila, fear racing through her, considered for a split second the merits of the spirit's offer.
Years of Jedi training allowed her to reassert herself.. She imposed calm on her mind, realizing that trying to win through martial might was a fools game.
She forced away the horrifying illusion the spirit had thrown at her, and went into a meditative position on the floor.
Kitsun snarled. "So be it," she hissed, raising her hands.
A bolt of lightning erupted from them, arcing toward Bastila, who did not move.
Bastila opened her eyes just before the lightning could hit. Her eyes glowed a bright orange again, and the lightning stopped just outside a bubble she had set up around her body
"Foul spirit!" Bastila hissed in that echo-voice. "I command you to disperse into chaos where you belong!"
"NO!" Kitsun shouted, losing her form and becoming a moving, living shadow. "I'll not be denied! I have rotted too long in this rusting hulk and I WILL escape!"
The shadow spirit flew at her. All Bastila could do was steel her will as the spirit flung itself into her body.
Her body jerked suddenly, flinging itself backward into a wall, than sliding up it and onto the ceiling. Bastila, screamed, clutching her head as the war of wills began.
Her body flung itself to the floor, than to the ceiling, than back again, sliding of its own accord across the ground as the Padawan tried to reassert her will over her own body.
As the battle for dominance raged, memories that were not her own began to seep into Bastila's psyche, horrifyingly making her forget some of her own memories. There simply wasn't enough room. She literally felt herself becoming whatever this thing inside her had been.
In desperation she tapped into her fear and anger, amplifying the emotions across her mental landscape in a frantic attempt to burn the spirit out. The thing in her screamed, redoubling its efforts.
More memories began to seep in. Vicious ones. Toying with people's minds before breaking them utterly, executing people for ridiculous infractions, or simply contradicting her. The poisonous hate of this creature as it seduced its own version of Ulic Qel-Droma-
"NOOO!" Bastila screamed, throwing all her will and power against the evil spirit, who finally abandoned the fight and scrambled out of her body.
The shadow spirit took another form, this of a disgusting, mummified woman with long black hair and greying skin, covered in a purple dress that split down the sides for freedom of movement. It looked at her with empty eyesockets, yet Bastila could feel the pure loathing pouring out of them. She almost vomited at the thought that this thing had been in her. It lay on the ground, helpless before her. What power it had conserved over the years it had haunted this vessel had been utterly spent in its struggle with Bastila. It had only enough power now to make itself visible.
The Spirit held up a hand. "I hold the key to true power. I can still guide you. You can still be the most powerful Sith in his-"
Bastila's eyes flashed orange. "BURN!" she screeched, focusing all of her power on the spirit.
The spirit screeched, flaying wildly as ethereal fire erupted across its ectoplasmic surface. The thing's form fluctuated wildly, expanding, contracting, and rending itself apart as Bastila's power chewed through it, before destroying her utterly. The spirit exploded in a shower of bright red particles.
For a few moments, Bastila concentrated her power on the area the spirit had been, making absolutely sure there was no chance of it reforming. She looked around. The cryo bunker had vanished, replaced by the destitute, rotting area that had once been the cargo bay.
Bastila dropped to her knees, sobbing. The battle had cost her dearly. The spirit's memories had completely overwritten some of her earlier memories-about three years worth. Three years replaced by memories of unimaginable cruelty. She gazed at the mess of jumbled around shattered cryo-pods, some with corpses sticking out of them, and her eyes fell on one pod she knew by instinct had once belonged to that evil entity.
"Device?" she called out.
"Area purified. Well done," the electronic voice called out. "This device surmises that you successfully destroyed the spirit of Universe 45-90's Aleema Keto, who totally destroyed the Republic and the Jedi Order of her Universe by her mastery of Force Illusions to drive them insane. Her universe still has yet to fully recover, but a Jedi contingent was left there to rebuild."
Bastila glowered at this. Now some of the memories were making sense.
And worse-she now possessed Aleema's knowledge of Sith techniques. All of them.