"Stop staring at me."
Mal blinks up slowly at the little Rodian child glaring down. The sun stings her eyes into narrow slits. She wants to move, to stand up, but her limbs are unresponsive.
"Leave her alone." Two more children appear kicking up clouds of dirt as they walk.
"Tell your slave to stop looking at me like that."
"Mother says it's her kind that ruined this town."
"They're all dead now, except for her. Isn't that right?"
Their faces are hard to distinguish against the light. Mal attempts to swallow, to open her mouth, to make a noise. Her body is limp.
"You shouldn't let them treat you like that," a new voice cuts in. "Ain't you lonely?"
Mal squeezes her eyes shut and the spell breaks. She looks up at the green-skinned Twi'lek smirking down at her.
"Well?" The girl nods at her outstretched hand. The black ring on her middle finger shines ominously in the light. Mal reaches out and as they touch, something solid forms between their palms. Something heavy. Mal's stomach drops as the girl's hand tightens around hers. "Who'd you steal this from?"
"You're not real." Mal's throat is numb making every word a struggle to leave her tongue. "The Jedi made you up."
The girl digs her fingers into Mal's hand. "I said who'd you steal this from?"
"Just some guys in the back alley. Nobody important."
"You better not be lying to me! Go tell The Handler what you found. Tell her to find a buyer by the end of the night. I don't wanna hang on to this any longer than I have to."
Mal doesn't move. She attempts to bite down on her cheek, but her teeth feel gelatinous. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to happen."
"Really?" The girl smiles wide. Her teeth are tinted purple with blood. "Weren't you glad to be rid of me?"
Mal looks down in shame and the girl's head is in her lap, staring straight up in venomous disgust. "Are you real?" Mal whispers shakily.
The girl snatches her by the hair and pulls her close. "This is all your fault. You're the reason they're all dead."
"I'm sorry."
"I'll kill you. Even if it's back from beyond the grave, I won't let you go. I'll kill you."
"I'm so sorry."
"Are you truly?" A velvety voice calls out. Mal looks up from the rage of the Twi'lek's dying glare to a robed figure with a face shadowed by its hood. "You have a gift, little one. Would you like to learn how to use it?"
"Yes," Mal breathes out.
"You've been alone for some time, haven't you? Would you like a family?"
"Yes," she says a little louder.
"You want to learn, don't you? I've seen the books you steal from the library. Would you like a new life, a fresh start?"
Mal stands freely, the weight lifted from her body. "Is this how it happened?"
"You're a pain, you know that?" comes a high-pitched voice from behind her. Mal tries to turn her head, but her muscles are pulled tight. "That's alright. You're my pain to deal with now. You might scare everyone else off, but I see through your little act." Mal shudders as the voice grows deeper and the presence draws nearer. "I trust you. I've got your back and I know you've got mine. I won't ever leave you behind. I swear." The presence grows menacing, looming, ready to swallow her whole. "One day they'll see the truth. They'll submit willingly or we'll make them kneel before us."
"Stop!" Mal swings around. There's nothing but empty space. She drops to her knees and shudders as she begins sinking into thick mud. A light rain drizzles into the ground around her. "Did it happen like this?" she groans as a hand grips her shoulder. A pair of worn brown boots step into the mud before her.
"We've decided to surrender." A scratchy voice, tired in its expression.
"No!" Mal leans forward until her forehead touches the ground. "We can still fight them off. We can still win!"
"It's too late. We've already decided."
Another pair of hands, then another, and another. Grabbing tightly into her back, her shoulders, her neck. Pulling and pulling as she presses her body further down into that mud red as blood.
"Please," she begs.
"It's too late for us, but you can still escape. Go! Find someone who will help. Save other worlds. But it's over for us."
That damned mask is in her hands. Revan's mask. Mal traces the engraved lines, can feel the dark eye slits watching her. "Is this how it happened?" she mutters. "Tell me what's real."
"Don't you know?"
Mal looks up. She is alone, the space empty and smooth. Alone, again. Always alone. "I can't do this." She looks down at her reflection in the glossy surface below. "I can't be you, Revan."
Her reflection tilts its head to the left, then to the right. A stretch of the lips showing all the teeth underneath and then firmly drawn closed. "Then stop trying to be," it finally says.
The exasperation in her voice makes it tremble as she asks, "What else is there?"
Her reflection draws close. Mal moves her own face down to meet it. "To be you."
"Who am I?"
"Don't you know?"
"I'm Mal Korra. But what does that mean?"
A hand reaches out and pierces the surface to cup her cheek. Its fingers are gray and sticky against her skin. Her own hand dips down into the thickness below to touch her reflection's face.
"Whatever you want it to," it whispers and with a quick tug, their two heads pull together.
Mal sits up with a gasp. The steady white light of the academy stings her tired eyes as she blinks her way to wakefulness. The low sound of a whirring motor approaches the side of her cot. T3-M4 watches silently as Mal steadies her breath. Unable to speak, she holds up a hand to signal that she's fine. The time between sleep and waking always makes her feel vulnerable. Her mouth is gummed up with feelings she can't quite express. It takes a longer than normal moment to assemble the mental armor needed to survive the day.
She slides one leg out of the blanket, then the other. HK-47 hasn't moved from his guard post at the foot of her cot and Mal is grateful for his diligence. Her body moves mechanically through the motions of dress and preparedness, then steps cautiously through the academy halls to the cafeteria. The consistent lack of sleep has left her eyes heavy and her brain hyper focused on the immediate tasks at hand. Mal has already decided; this will be her last night in this place.
"I hear congratulations are in order."
Mal blinks out of the dead-eyed stare she's been subjecting her breakfast to. Dustil Onasi slides into the seat on her right and checks over his shoulder before continuing.
"I guess winning the apprenticeship is all part of your grand plan."
Mal blinks lazily at him before humming noncommittally. He scowls and so much of Carth is in that expression, a smile breaks across her blank face. When she first spotted Dustil in the academy halls, the cool anger he emitted had frozen her on the spot. She knew immediately that his reunion with Carth could only be a confrontation, a deadly one if they weren't careful. The boy beside her is still angry, but at least these feelings have turned toward his captors.
"Worry about your own plans, Onasi. Why are you still here?"
He crosses his arms and nods in greeting to another student walking by. "I've still got things to take care of."
"I hope you're being smart about whatever you're doing. If you get hurt, your father will find some way to make it my fault."
Dustil winces at the mention of his father. "I take it you two don't get along?"
Mal smirks. "Oh no, we're buddies. The best of friends. Might even be lovers one day." Her smirk grows as Dustil chokes on his own tongue and turns bright red. Carth's son indeed. "I'm fucking with you, kid."
His glare is murderous. "Not. Funny."
"Honestly, I think we're tentative colleagues. He's been pretty pissed at me ever since we found out I used to be Revan."
"Ha, ha. Forget I asked." He stands and turns to leave, then pauses. "What are you planning to do?"
Mal shrugs. "I'm not sure yet. But if I were you, I wouldn't wait around to see. Take who you trust and find somewhere else to be."
He looks like he wants to argue but at her stern gaze he nods and walks away. Mal turns back to her breakfast and stares. She can't recall what food had been placed on her plate but all she can see now are bits of maggots and flesh swimming in a bowl of filth and decay. The table appears coated in a thick layer of dust, her feet shuffling through a loose pile of bones. She pushes away the untouched meal and heads for her final trial in the tomb of Naga Sadow.
Mal takes a slow meandering of the canyon paths, tracing the grooves and edges of the carved stone with her fingers. The muscles in her legs ache. The beginning of a headache is creeping up her temples. A small pinch of sand is stuck in one of her boots chafing at her ankle. All these little annoyances work to keep her grounded in the present. No peeking ahead to the future. No digging backwards into the past. To be here, now. Who is she in this moment? What does it mean to exist as is?
"I'm Mal Korra. But what does that mean?"
"Whatever you want it to."
It's an exhausting task, attempting to outrun a past one doesn't fully understand. Splitting into two separate halves and then clumsily sewing them back together. A step taken forward cracks into infinite possible paths, but the journey to this moment matters as much as the one ahead. Right here, right now, it is enough to just be.
Too quickly does the tomb appear before her in its impressive glory. Mal takes a brief moment to appreciate the architecture before stepping through the entrance. She silently listens to Uthar's instructions, looking at neither his nor Yuthura's deceptively patient faces, and moves on. The door grinds shut, the darkness envelops, and the trial begins.
This, she knows. Before Mal, before Revan, before everything else she ever was or will be, she was a child who loved the challenge of a puzzle. And no manner of shadow or beast can distract her from peeling away the layers of this tomb until she exposes the secret hidden inside. The sarcophagus of Naga Sadow, ancient Sith Lord of legend.
The prize for her efforts, a Sith lightsaber, sits on a pedestal at the back of the chamber. The cold metal stings her fingers as Mal ignites the blade. Its red glow is hypnotic, the tomb beyond warping into darkness. It feels almost right in her hand. Mal retracts the blade and sits down on the tomb floor. She reaches out through the Force and carefully pulls the components apart. Letting them hover in the air, she rearranges with pieces from her pouch until with a final click the finished lightsaber falls into her left hand.
There. A feeling of completeness. Mal stands with a balance she hasn't felt since long before waking up in a Republic medical center a small lifetime ago. She removes the blaster that's dutifully acted as a placeholder and sets it on the pedestal. A lightsaber on each side, she feels ready to face whatever fate awaits her.
The immediate challenge is the two Sith masters anticipating her arrival. They stand on the frozen pit of acid equally triumphant with what they believe to be their secret betrayal. In the end, Mal chooses to side with Yuthura who repays her with a secret betrayal of her own.
Mal's lightsabers swing in harmony as she moves in forms only her body remembers. The Force swells up like a chorus around her and she welcomes it back like an old friend, lets it sing loudly through her veins. She sends Yuthura's blade flying across the room with one lightsaber and hovers the other in the empty space beside her neck. Yuthura stares up in bitter acceptance and curses the insecurity that led to this moment.
"I couldn't help it," she laments. "It was instinctual. To cut you down before you could do the same to me."
Mal retreats her blades and brushes her fingers under Yuthura's chin. "You were a fool to challenge me," she reprimands softly. "I am Revan." And for the first time, she actually means it.
Yuthura's gaze is equal parts awe and terror. She watches silently as Mal brings a hand to the wound on Yuthura's arm and with a look of intense concentration, uses the Force to knit the flesh back together. Mal breathes deep and smiles.
"I've made my choice. Now, what will yours be?"
You should have made her stay. She could have ruled the academy under your influence.
"Hush," Mal mutters as she pivots out of the way of an incoming strike and draws dual lines with her lightsabers across the Sith's back.
This is what you wanted all along, isn't it? You wanted an excuse, any excuse that would justify killing them all.
Mal sends out a firm push of the Force and knocks back the circle of Sith rushing towards her. She retracts her blades and holds up a hand of pause to the droids.
"You may have heard the rumor that I am Revan, former Dark Lord of the Sith, returned from the dead—"
"Correction: No such rumor exists."
Mal shoots HK-47 an irritated glance. "Really? I told at least five people when I— never mind. What's important is that it's true. I am indeed Revan! But you all," she points at the disgruntled Sith in various stages of injury. "You may call me Mal Korra. I've got no quarrel with you. Let us leave in peace and no one else has to get hurt."
She ducks, barely missing the arc of lightning sent back in reply.
HK-47 makes a noise of delight. "Query: Will we be counting that as a negative response?"
"Go for it, HK," she sighs.
Mal had considered leaving Yuthura in charge of the academy as a way to monitor their activities. But considering all she's learned about the Sith, that plan would only last as long as it took for Yuthura to regain the courage or spite to betray her again. It is their nature after all. Perhaps this outcome is for the greater good.
There you go using that phrase again. YOU have no idea what it means to sacrifice for the greater good. And if you're lucky, you never will again.
Moving through the halls, Mal incapacitates any Sith foolish enough to run at her. She feels no pleasure from this battle and takes it as an assurance that she's walking the lighter path. As Revan, she had chosen fear and failed. Now, Mal will choose compassion and see how far it gets her.
"You made it!" Juhani runs forward as Mal and the droids enter the hanger bay doors. "You are safe." She breathes a sigh of relief. "We heard there was trouble at the academy, but no one knew for certain what was happening. All communication is locked down. I suppose we should have known that it was you."
At least some news spreads fast. Mal hopes Dustil took her advice. "The Sith here should be busy for a while. Now all we need to worry about is Malak's fleet." She taps T3-M4. "Go on and take the coordinates to Carth. It's time for us to end this."
The droid whistles and hurries off toward the Ebon Hawk. Juhani looks like she wants to ask a million questions at once. Mal smiles at her concern.
"I—"
"What the fuck is this?"
They turn to see a man keeping himself balanced with one hand against the wall as he sways where he stands. Late 40s, blaster on the right side of his back, old injury in left knee. Mal watches him carefully as he straightens up to bring the full force of his attention on Juhani. Danger.
"Is that a fucking Cathar I see?"
Juhani bristles as Mal takes a protective step in front of her. "You look lost. I suggest you turn around."
He doesn't. Instead, he opens his hateful mouth and changes everything Juhani knew of her parents' fates. Because this is the other truth of the Ebon Hawk. The past will always find you when you least expect it, no matter how far you run. Juhani seethes with fury. The air is electric with her raw agony. Mal moves carefully beside her, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her close with a firm grip.
"Breath, Juhani," Mal whispers against her ear. "Breathe and listen to me." She waits until she can feel the shudder of Juhani's chest before continuing. "If you want to kill this man, I understand. I won't stop you. But do it because you want to, not because he's forcing you to." She squeezes Juhani tighter. "Look at him. Really look at him. That is a spiteful creature who can't stand to see you live proudly. He wants to taint every last part of your life with his filth, even if he has to die to do it."
The man is still ranting of execution and slavery, his spit flying from the force of his taunts. Mal feels Juhani take another breath.
"Kill him or don't. Anger or peace. I respect your choice either way." Mal releases her hold and steps back to observe.
Juhani is still shaking but her breathing is steady. She closes her eyes for a moment. "Peace over anger." She whispers it and then repeats it louder.
"What are you going on about?" the man screeches. "Say it clearly! Or can you only grunt like the animal you are?"
Juhani stares him down. "I refuse to let you hurt me anymore. You will pay for your crimes against my people, but I will not be your executioner."
"You're weak," he sneers back before glaring at Mal. "If you won't give up your pet willingly, I'll come and take her myself."
"I am not a pet!" Juhani snaps back. "I am not a beast or an animal to be tied up and trained. I am a person. I am a Jedi. And nothing you say or do will erase that."
The man stares back in temporary shock before grumbling, "This isn't over." He quickly turns and marches back toward the main colony.
For a moment, Juhani looks as if she wants to chase after him, but she watches him go until he disappears from sight. She clenches and unclenches her hands then takes an audibly large breath. Mal watches as the burning coil of hate slowly unlatches from Juhani's throat and shrinks down into such a small sliver that Mal understands this is the moment. This will be the time that Juhani looks back upon and recognizes as her final trial. Even in future moments of weakness, that hate will never again hold the grip it once had on her heart. She is radiant in this moment, shining a light so pure it stings Mal's eyes. Juhani stands straight and shines and Mal can only stare in blatant awe as she walks back to the ship.
HK-47 makes his presence remembered. "Observation: The pathetic meatbag will attack us again."
Mal blinks free from her vision and stares at the droid. She knows with full certainty that he can read the command in her eyes. "No, he won't."
HK-47 adjusts his rifle. "Understood, master." He waits until Juhani disappears into the belly of the Ebon Hawk before marching out into the colony halls.
The path to identity is messy. This moment may be Juhani's final trial, but it is not Mal's.
Mal has taken the first steps in deciding who exactly she wants to be. That someone is a Jedi, yes, but one who will not give evil a second chance to hurt the ones she cares for.