Disclaimer: Lucasfilm, Bioware, Disney, et al. and whoever they sell the rights to next own Star Wars and Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic. I write this for fun and not for any monetary gain.


Chapter 11: Dragon Hunt

Not long after departing Anchorhead, Revan found himself on the Dune Seas with Bastila, Canderous, and HK-47, having already slaughtered three groups of attacking Sand People by draining their life force. He was beginning to get sick of dealing with these murderous creatures, and they still had a long way to go before reaching either the Sand People enclave or the Star Map. Instead of getting annoyed, he figured he might as well use this as a teaching opportunity for his apprentice.

"Bastila, I am really sick of draining more Sand People lives. How about you do it next time?" he suggested.

"You did explain the mechanics back on Dantooine, but I never tried it myself," his apprentice noted. "I don't know if I can do it."

In response, he refreshed her memories by demonstrating the power slowly, drawing upon the Force for real this time, albeit without a target. "Remember," he lectured at the end. "You don't want to completely drain all life from the target, only most of it to ensure death. Otherwise, there is nothing left for them to join the Force. It is the most painless death I know, but when overdone, as the ancient Sith had, it seems… overly cruel."

"I understand," she acknowledged. "Perhaps that's why the Jedi never use it despite preaching against making their enemies suffer…"

"Like all things that they denounce as 'Dark,' they never seek to fully understand it," the Sith Master agreed.

"What does it mean to join the Force anyway?" the Mandalorian asked. "I've heard it a lot but never understood what it entailed."

"Since time immemorial, Force users believe that when a lifeform dies, their remaining life force 'becomes one with the Force.' That is to say, their memory, their knowledge, their deeds—really, everything that they knew, everything they did—joins the Force itself, becoming a part of a collective," Revan explained. "It's quite drastic and cruel to deny people such a thing."

"Is there any evidence though?" Canderous wondered. "Or is it just a traditional belief?"

"There are some that manage to return, at least temporarily, from the Force, as ghostly apparitions," the Sith elaborated. "The understanding of that afterlife of sorts is based on the testimony of returning Force ghosts."

"And that's what bothered me so much about what the Jedi did to my Master," Bastila interjected. "If their mind-wipe had been successful, the person they erased would never become one with the Force. Everything he knew, everything he did, would just be… gone."

"To destroy the defeater of Mandalore in such a way would be an insult to Mandalore himself," the Mandalorian agreed. "I get it now."

A minute or so after they finished, another group of three Sand People showed up. The Sith Lord froze them with the Force and motioned for Bastila. With some effort, she slowly pulled the orange trails of life out of her first target.

"You did it," congratulated her Master, who offered her a few extra pointers on the technique to increase the effectiveness. She managed to drain the lives of the next two Sand People much quicker.

"You did well, Bastila. Use all the techniques you know to deal with the next group," he ordered. None of them had doubts about another group attacking. "HK, let Bastila fight them by herself. I want her to practice her technique."

"Resignation: As you wish, Master. My lust for blood shall remain unfulfilled," the droid said, longing clear in his tone.

Soon, a huge sand crawler entered their vision. In front of it, they saw four miners struggling to defend themselves against a band of attacking Sand People. They quickly ran towards the scene.

But their arrival was too late. The four men were already on the ground, screaming in pain as the creatures stabbed them over and over again. They seemed careful to avoid any vital organs, instead wanting to prolong their agony. They shouted in their strange language. The Sith Lord asked HK-47 to translate.

"Translation: They seemed to be screaming 'Die, you machine-wielding heretic! Glory to the chieftain!'"

Bastila felt the now-familiar power course through her as her anger and bile rose at the sight of the barbaric act of torture aimed at the innocent miners. But this time, the power seemed stronger than she had ever experienced before. She raised her hand and fired a burst of Lightning at the attacking Sand People, and they were soon stunned and weakened. Channelling the Force, she managed to drain the life of one of the attackers. There was no time to revel in her achievement, however, as the other three regained their wits, and charged at her. She threw out a stream of Lightning, and they fell over screaming. She continued to channel her anger and disgust to continue the attack. After three long minutes, the creatures finally stopped moving.

Her teacher looked somewhat troubled. "I could feel a sense of satisfaction from you when you were torturing them…"

"They deserved it," she declared fervently. "You saw them torturing those miners slowly and painfully!"

When she turned to face him, he could see her eyes were glowing yellow. "I know," he placated, "I know they are terrible creatures and they don't deserve mercy. Just remember how dangerous it is to lose control over your emotions." At her look of confusion, he elaborated, "The danger comes from how easily the satisfaction fuels the Force Lightning, which leads to more satisfaction, until you reach the limit of your power—a dangerous positive feedback cycle. While the power never harms yourself, it is very easy to end up harming innocents in your way. Just look at Malak. He used to do this to Mandalorian war criminals. Now he doesn't care and does it to everyone. I just want you to be aware of the dangers."

"I understand," she said finally. She took a few deep breaths to calm herself, allowing her to leave the headspace. Her eyes turned back to their natural grey.

"What about these miners?" Canderous asked.

Bastila reached out with the Force to sense the damage. "They are too far gone, unfortunately." While the Sand People had avoided damaging any crucial organs, the miners had lost half of their blood by this point.

Seeing the Mandalorian look at him, Revan preempted his question. "Bastila is better than me at healing other people, so if she can't, then I suppose there's no choice." The Sith Lord cast a Death Field on the catatonic and mortally wounded miners as a gesture of coup de grâce, putting them out of their misery. Those in the lofty heights of the Senate would call such a thing murder and had outlawed it, but he couldn't disagree more. Most soldiers, faced with inevitable death, would rather it be quick and relatively painless than suffering through a slow and agonizing demise. Having fought in the Mandalorian wars, he had seen with his own eyes how his mortally wounded comrades begged for an end to the suffering, and with his own hand he had delivered it. He bitterly regretted the circumstances that rendered such a thing inevitable, but never the actual act—not after hearing the end of the agonizing screams and relaxation of their tortured expressions.

"Were you using your full power in the Lightning against the Sand People?" he asked, shaking his head free of the memories.

"I admit I didn't," she answered. "I did not want it to end so quickly for them."

"After what we saw, I can't blame you for feeling that way. Next time though, try more power. The only way to reach your full potential is to push your limits over and over again," commanded the Sith Master.

"Yes, Master," the apprentice replied. "Are we still going to try a diplomatic solution?"

"After that? I don't really want to. But we will give them an ultimatum. If they don't stop the attacks, their tribe will be destroyed," said Revan decisively.


By the time they reached the narrow pass leading to the Sand People's claimed territory, Bastila had enough practice to almost instantly fry Sand People with her Force Lightning and drain life from a single target with practiced ease. Reaching out with the Force, Revan found many hidden Sand People, in addition to the three they could see in the distance.

"There are at least twenty Sand People there, so we are not going to hold back," he ordered.

Moments later, the Sand People saw them, and they charged. A curious thing stood out—some of them were firing blasters.

"So much for machines being blasphemous," the Sith Lord noted dryly as he raised his right hand to block the blaster fire, suspending them in midair before fading into nothingness. "I guess they too are hypocrites." Beside him, Bastila joined in with her yellow blade. Realizing she knew his technique, she switched to it as well. No longer needing her lightsaber for defence, she threw it at two Sand People, decapitating them. Canderous and HK-47 backed the couple up with blaster fire.

Revan reached out with the Force to debilitate the attacking Sand People with the Force, and soon they were clutching their heads in horror. The blaster wielders in the distance were unaffected, still raining fire upon them. He reached out with the Force and choked five Sand People simultaneously, snapping their necks and creating a disturbing crunching noise. His apprentice focused her attention on a single opponent instead, draining his life. As she moved onto frying the rest with Lightning, the Dark Lord broke the necks of a few more attackers. Still, more came out charging.

The Sith decided to close the distance to deal with the blaster wielders, and he slowly advanced, taking care to continue blocking blaster fire. The others followed in his wake. Once they closed the distance, the Sith couple switched to their lightsabers, cutting down a few gaffi stick-wielding Sand People, and soon they reached the blaster wielders.

He reached out with the Force to crush their blasters, turning them into a mangled mess of metal. With a Force wave from almost point-blank range, he overpowered all of them, forcing them to the ground while simultaneously breaking most of their bones. Shooting a purple beam from his hand, he drained their life force in one go, and the Dune Seas was silent once more.

"Can you teach me how to drain multiple targets at once?" asked the Sith apprentice. "It's so overpowered." Her Master indulged her thirst for learning as they crossed the pass into the Sand People territory.


After Bastila managed to practice Death Field a few times, the entrance to the Sand People's enclave was within sight. The party sat hidden behind a small sand dune to avoid detection.

"I thought you said these people hated technology to guts," she asked after taking a peek, finding the military-grade turrets around the enemy base.

"Clearly only for ideological reasons to wage this war against Anchorhead. Presumably, this tribe decided to do the practical thing to fight Czerka. Hypocrites," commented the Sith Master. "Still, running the distance is suicide."

"Where did they even get all this equipment?" the Mandalorian asked.

"They probably stole it from Czerka when they tried setting it up against the Sand People," deduced Bastila.

"That is the most likely explanation," Revan agreed. "Seems like Czerka is the equipment shipping contractor for the Sand People. What a bargain, delivering such things for free!" he joked.

"Any idea how we might get in without being turned into burnt flesh?" inquired Canderous dryly.

"Bastila, try doing an illusion of someone running the distance. Then we can see how the turrets are operated," the Sith Lord proposed. She did as asked, focusing all her attention on producing a realistic image of herself.

Soon, the image of Bastila was shot at. She created a good impression of herself being shot to pieces.

"I found that more disturbing than I should," remarked her boyfriend. "Seeing my beloved shot to pieces, even if it was just an image, hurt."

"Don't worry, I am perfectly fine. Let me assure you," she said before leaning towards her Master, kissing him on the mouth.

"Statement: I do not understand why meatbags press their slimy, mucus-covered lips together. What could such an action possibly accomplish?" came the voice of HK-47.

"Should we modify HK's programming?" Revan asked.

"Possibly, as I would like to kiss you a lot more in the future," Bastila answered and kissed him again.

"Clarification: Master and Mistress are free to do whatever mea— human things they wish! I simply don't understand, but there is no need to mess with my genius programming!"

"Now, let us try an illusion of one of the Sand People running the distance," suggested the Sith Lord, ignoring HK-47's comment. She did again as asked, and the illusion passed without incident.

"Clearly, that was a visual identification, which means we probably should dress up as Sand People," the Sith apprentice observed. Backtracking to the last group of Sand People they fought, which thankfully was done cleanly with Death Field, they quickly dressed themselves up in the Sand People clothing.


The party of four walked the path to the entrance to the Sand People enclave without trouble. When they opened the door, the Sand People inside were immediately alarmed and started to attack. Revan gave HK-47 the prearranged signal to tell the Sand People to tell their chief to stop the attacks on Anchorhead and only defend themselves, explaining that Czerka wouldn't last that much longer anyway.

The shock of someone so alien speaking their language caused the Sand People to pause. Still, the Sand People conversed amongst themselves. In the meantime, the quartet took the opportunity to remove their disguises. Eventually, one of them, dressed distinctively, walked up to the party, and spoke.

HK-47 dutifully translated. "Translation: This meatbag is saying that the attacks on Anchorhead will stop once they leave the planet and tear down their blasphemous buildings." It was exactly as Revan expected.

"That's out of the question," he replied. "The attacks must stop now."

HK-47 relayed the message. "Translation: He will reduce the frequency of attacks on Anchorhead if you bring him some of Czerka's water vaporators. He also said something about Anchorhead stealing the moisture in the air," he translated after the chieftain replied.

"This makes no sense," the Sith noted. "Why doesn't he just move away? The Sand People are nomadic." The hypocrisy of asking for machines to be delivered wasn't lost on him either.

"Translation: He says Anchorhead taints the land and must be removed."

"That doesn't answer the question," the Dark Lord observed.

"Observation: Perhaps he doesn't wish to answer the question," HK-47 reasoned. "Inquiry: Would you like me to ask again? I suspect this meatbag might not take it well."

"Don't bother," Revan decided. "Tell the chieftain that I am willing to do him a favour if he stops the attacks, but only if he stops it completely. He can defend the immediate vicinity of this enclave upon intrusion, but must not attack anyone outside except in self-defence."

The droid translated this message, as politely as possible despite secretly hoping for a bloodbath. The chieftain of the tribe shouted angrily to the other warriors, who all wielded their gaffi sticks threateningly and started charging, granting HK-47's wish. The chieftain retreated deeper into the enclave, disappearing from view, clearly not the kind to fight with his people.

Revan and Bastila immediately pulled out their lightsabers to defend against the onslaught. The layout of the enclave worked to their advantage. The enclave consisted of a circular corridor with rooms on both sides, with a single entrance corridor branching off the ring, though of course they didn't know at the time. The attacking Sand People naturally funnelled themselves towards the narrow corridor, negating their own numerical superiority. The Sith couple easily kept the attackers at bay with their lightsabers, all the while inflicting heavy casualties.

Behind them, the Mandalorian veteran, seeing the foolishness of the attack, threw a plasma grenade down each side of the ring corridor branching from the entrance. It proved to be a devastating blow, and tens of Sand People were instantly killed in the explosion. The remaining Sand People near the entrance were too far away to be killed by the blast, but were stunned by the attack and the sudden lack of support from behind. The Dark Lord took the opportunity to freeze them with the Force while his apprentice drained their lives.

"Good job, Bastila," he congratulated her after she managed to dispatch most of the trapped Sand People with a single attack.

"Thank you, Master," she replied happily.

However, it seemed that the Sand People wised up and retreated deeper into their enclave. This caused a problem for the party of four: if they advanced as a unit, they would be trapped in a corridor with Sand People on both sides, cut off from the entrance. However, if they instead split up, they could be defeated piecemeal. Fortunately, the Sith Lord had an idea—he gathered the fallen bodies of the Sand People and stacked them to block off one branch of the circular corridor from the entrance, then set the bodies ablaze with the Force. The fire should prevent their enemies from advancing from that side, keeping the entrance open. With their path of retreat secured, the quartet carefully advanced down the corridor.

All of a sudden, a wall fell over behind them, and Sand People poured out, cutting off their escape. On the other side, the Sand People suddenly appeared also, attempting to box in the party of four.

Revan reached out with the Force and found that there was only one entrance to the room from which the Sand People attacked their rear—other than the fallen wall, that is—and that was a door ahead of them. "Bastila, Canderous, defend our rear!" he ordered. "HK, come with me." He intended to advance past the door and cut off the Sand People. To this end, he threw out a Force wave, pushing the Sand People back. The most unfortunate of them were impaled on the gaffi sticks of their own comrades as they fell. Taking advantage of the opportunity, HK-47 threw a plasma grenade down the corridor, its effect devastating on the mass of Sand People pushed together by his creator's attack.

The Sith Lord advanced down the corridor menacingly, blasting any Sand People who dared approach with Force Lightning. Some of them reacted accordingly, opting to throw their gaffi sticks at him. He kept up the Lightning with his left hand, while wielding his lightsaber with his right to deflect the incoming projectiles. Unfortunately for him, gaffi sticks were not resistant to lightsabers, and as a result, a swing at them was not very effective at getting them out of the way, and many sticks landed uncomfortably close to him.

Deciding to switch tactics, he turned off his lightsaber, instead catching them with the Force and throwing them back. However, dealing with so many projectiles was taxing and one mistake would spell his doom. Fortunately, HK-47 solved the problem by throwing more grenades down the corridor. They continued their advance, reaching the door. The Sand People retreated, leaving their comrades attacking the rear stranded. With a mighty Force push, the Sith brought down the entire wall of the room, crushing many Sand People hiding behind it. Turning around, he saw Bastila on the ground, desperately dodging an attack. She was able to kill her attacker, but the sight angered him. His fury was terrifying to behold—with glowing yellow eyes, the Dark Lord of the Sith sent out a mighty storm of Force Lightning, blasting the remaining Sand People in the room too far away from the wall to be crushed. His wrath was so terrible that it tired him, but he rectified that by draining the lives of any survivors.


Bastila, on the other hand, was not having as much luck. While she was able to kill a few of the Sand People with Force Lightning, she was unable to hit as many targets as her teacher. As such, she was forced to use her lightsaber to cut down Sand People. Fortunately for her, the ability of her lightsaber to cut gaffi sticks worked to her advantage, for the ability of the Sand People to fight greatly decreased without their preferred weapon. However, the sharp end remained lethal.

While the Sith apprentice was a pretty good fighter, the waves of Sand People attacking soon took a toll on her, especially as she sought to practice Vaapad with which she was still slightly unfamiliar. She made a slight mistake, and one of the Sand People attacking her managed to stab her leg with a gaffi stick. With a cry of pain, she fell to the ground. Her attacker took the opportunity to try to stab her in the chest, but she barely managed to roll away. With a Force wave, she managed to temporarily stun most of the attackers, but she was in a precarious situation. In desperation, she stuck out a hand to drain the life of her attacker. He froze in surprise as his life force flowed away in an orange tendril and entered her body. Miraculously, the wound in her leg began to heal. Reaching out the two Sand People Canderous was fighting nearby, she cast a purple field of death, siphoning their life force as well. Canderous seemed somewhat put out that she stole his kill, but the drained life force fully healed her leg, allowing her to stand up mostly painlessly again. It felt somewhat strange, but she did not reflect upon that feeling.

She spun around, and saw her Master at his full power, having destroyed a wall and now blasting the Sand People behind it with a huge storm of Lightning. She looked at it in awe for a moment, for it was far beyond anything she could manage herself at the moment. A moment later, the Force screamed a warning, and she engaged the remaining Sand People with her lightsaber, now completely cut off from any support. Beside her, Canderous's blaster cannon suppressed most of the fighters outside of mêlée range.

Moments later, she cut down all the demoralized Sand People that engaged her, and no more came out. However, there were some still hiding where they could from the blaster cannon. This suited Bastila just fine, as she could hit them with the Force despite their cover. She simply cast a Death Field around their hiding places, draining them of their lives. The battlefield was quiet for the moment, and the quartet took the opportunity to join together once more.

"Are you okay?" Revan asked his girlfriend, pulling her into a hug. "I saw you on the ground."

"One of the Sand People surprised me and stabbed my leg," she admitted. "Fortunately, I was able to drain his life and heal the wound."

"Please be more careful," he pleaded. I can't lose you, he added in her mind.

"I try to," she promised.

He resolved to use the rest of the battle for her to practice, but also to keep her under his watchful eye.

They continued down the corridor, now systematically tearing down every wall and eliminating any Sand People hiding inside. Without the element of surprise, the desert creatures proved to be of little threat, and soon the quartet reached the opposite end of the enclave, where there was a path leading to the centre. Pushing over the door, Bastila was met with four much stronger Sand People. She immediately reacted with a Force wave to knock them down, but they didn't fall back far.

These are clearly the elite warriors, she thought. She shot a purple beam out to the temporarily stunned warriors and started to drain their life force. Tendrils of Revan's Force Lightning soon joined her. Despite the powerful attacks, the warrior that was the farthest away rose. While injured, he seemed still capable of fighting and charged at her. She threw her lightsaber at him, and it cut cleanly through. The warrior fell in two pieces as she summoned her weapon back with the Force.

She pushed down another door and was finally met with the chieftain. He activated what appeared to be an energy shield, in complete opposition to their stated hatred of technology. Besides him, two Sand People armed with blasters started firing. The Sith apprentice easily raised a barrier with the Force to block the blaster fire. Before she could do anything else, the Sith Master dealt with them by crushing their blasters with the Force. With their weapons disabled, they took out their gaffi sticks.

Seeing the small size of the room, Bastila used a Force push to throw the Sand People into the walls. The two ex-blaster wielders slammed into the walls on both sides, knocking them down, momentarily stunning them. Another warrior hit the back wall but rose quickly. The chieftain only slid back, no doubt aided by the shield. Quickly, he advanced once again, trying to stab her in the gut. She moved to cut the gaffi stick in half, but to her surprise, she was only able to push it aside.

With her lightsaber now trapped under the lightsaber-resistant gaffi stick, the chieftain slid the gaffi stick up the length of her blade, intent on breaking her thumb. Thinking quickly, Bastila turned off her lightsaber, tilted it up, and turned it back on. With her lightsaber now above the gaffi stick, she lowered her hands, and pushed the gaffi stick away. Twisting suddenly, she turned on her second blade, and the chieftain was impaled by the blade as it formed. She turned the blade off again, and the chieftain fell, too weak to move with the mortal wound.

Looking around, she found the two Sand People at the side dead from multiple blaster wounds, courtesy of Canderous and HK-47, while the last warrior was held lifted up in the air, clutching at his throat. Turning around, she saw Revan making a choking gesture. Suddenly, he closed his hands, and a crunching noise was heard. Turning back, she saw the body fall to the ground.

"You have fought well, Bastila," commended the Sith Lord.

"Only thanks to your teaching, Master," she replied sweetly.

He suddenly turned around and fired a blast of Lightning. She looked at the direction of his arm and saw another group of Sand People attacking from the rear. They fell to the ground as charred corpses. They returned to the main corridor and mopped up the remaining resistance until they arrived back at the giant funeral pyre, acting as a barricade. The enclave seemed clear.


Backtracking, they searched the rooms that they had glossed over earlier, and took useful items from the wicker baskets around. They also picked up any gaffi sticks that they could find. Revan found some Jawas in a prison cell, and a blue Twi'lek that matched Mission's description of her brother, Griff. They were mostly unharmed, but in terrible fear of something. He released them and ordered them to follow his lead.

Opening another door, they were greeted with a gruesome sight. Corpses tied to racks, with scars that told a tale of long and brutal torture. It was probable that the other prisoners were forced to watch the process, with the knowledge they would be next. There was an old human woman, still barely alive.

As the Sith Lord approached, she whimpered in agony, "Please end it. I can't take this… any longer. Please put me… out of my misery." He was stunned for a moment, unsure if he should try to heal her or grant her wish, but before he could do anything, the woman choked on her breath and died, finally escaping the torment.

He lowered his head in a moment of silence for the victims of the Sand People. He turned to leave, but gave the corpses of the victims one last look, and set a fire to cremate them.

In a different room, they found the children of the Sand People cowering, the women standing in front of them, shielding the children with their bodies. One of them wore distinctive robes reminiscent of their recently deceased chieftain. She shouted at the quartet.

"Translation: This female meatbag is asking what we intend to do with them. She appears to be the chieftain's wife," HK-47 supplied.

"Tell her that I will spare all of them if they swear to not raise their children to take revenge upon Anchorhead," the Sith decided. As a gesture of good faith, he turned off his lightsaber, placing it back on his belt.

"Translation: She says that the chieftain was foolish to wage this war on Anchorhead. She says that he was blindly seeking glory, hoping that wiping out those outsiders would earn himself eternal fame. He flamed their traditional hate of technology to justify this war, causing much of the tribe to be lost, while using technology himself. While she disagrees with the ways of outsiders and refuses to adopt them, she understands that she has no right to impose her views on the outsiders just like how the outsiders have no right to change her ways."

"Glory is of no use to the dead," Revan remarked. "She is wise to be tolerant. Tell her to do whatever she wants—whether that's to stay and rebuild, or pack up and move, or join another tribe. It's up to her."

"Translation: She is grateful and will be joining the nearest tribe." The new leader of the tribe said something to the women and children, and they all left the enclave. The party of four continued down the path in the ruined enclave, eventually nearing the entrance. Revan climbed up to find the controls for the turrets outside. The operator was nowhere to be seen. Channelling the Force, he fried the controls with Lightning and crushed the remains into scrap metal. No one would be operating the turrets anytime soon.

Sensing there was nothing left, the Sith Lord gave one last look at the carnage, before turning his back and leaving. He sent the Jawas and Griff back to Anchorhead, and walked towards the Eastern Dune Seas with his party, where the Star Map was located.

Once the others were out of earshot, HK-47 spoke up. "Pleased statement: I am happy to announce that I was able to eliminate 37 meatbags during the last altercation."

"Good work, but that blaster seems to be an insult to your skills," the Sith Lord observed. Really, the droid should have been able to do much better. He took out one of his backup lightsabers, the green one from Sherruk converted to red, and handed it over to the droid. "Take this. You are programmed to fight with lightsabers."

"Acknowledgement: Thank you, Master," the droid said happily, igniting the lightsaber and started performing acrobatics with it to show off his skills. "Query: Can I please go back to Anchorhead now? I would very much like to stab the meatbag Yuka Laka with this marvellous weapon. It is also a long-time fantasy of mine…"

"I think we have more important things to do…" Revan mumbled. Still, he did not regret giving HK-47 the lightsaber. The droid's skills were formidable, mostly thanks to the incorporation of the algorithm underlying Vaapad into his programming. While the most powerful Sith could use the Force to react faster than HK-47's computer ever could, most of his opponents were not so skilled. The assassin droid's lightning fast reaction, combined with his mechanical strength and inability to make mistakes gave him the ability to defeat many Jedi Knights and even some Jedi Masters in single combat.


The quartet soon approached the krayt dragon cave where the Star Map was hidden. A Twi'lek hunter, Komad Fortuna, soon asked to join forces with Revan to hunt the krayt dragon in the cave. He told the Sith that he already mined the path to the cave and wanted him to lure some banthas to rouse the dragon from its hibernation. He pointed towards the banthas nearby that were obvious mounts for Sand People. He could sense them nearby through the Force.

The Dark Lord gave the hunter a look of disgust. "You want me to kill Sand People to steal their mounts so we can use them as bait to lure the krayt dragon out," he summed it up succinctly. "Those Sand People clearly know we are here, and they didn't attack us. There is no good reason why we should provoke them by stealing their mounts and risk starting a war. I am not doing this your way." It was none of the hunter's business so he hadn't mentioned it, but he didn't end a war between Anchorhead and a tribe of Sand People just to start another.

"Do you want to end up dead? Another hunter went up to the cave and got killed instantly," protested the Twi'lek.

"Watch me," the Sith commanded. He took out his lightsabers and floated them with the Force next to the krayt dragon's eyes. He rotated them to point the blade towards the brain. If they were turned on, the blade would form inside its head, instantly killing the fearsome beast. Yet, he paused. "Bastila," he called. "Would you do the honours and avenge your father?"

"Gladly, Master," she replied. Sensing what he planned to do, she pressed the buttons with the Force, and the blades ignited. Exactly as predicted, the krayt dragon let out a deafening roar and dropped dead right there.

With the Force, Revan easily pulled the lightsabers back and put them back on his belt. "See, that wasn't so hard," he commented as he finished. "No grand theft or murder required." Even if the lightsaber failed to kill the krayt dragon, it would come charging out and be blown up by the mines, he added for his apprentice.

"And just how exactly are you supposed to get anything from the dragon now? It barely fits in the cave. There is no space in the cave to do anything!" challenged the hunter. "Are you going to pull it out all by yourself?" In his mind, it was clear that such a feat had to be impossible.

"Yes," Revan declared, glaring at him, before turning around to the cave. He first shot Force Lightning at the mines, detonating all of them. He then raised his right arm, closed his eyes and channelled the Force. Soon, the carcass of the krayt dragon floated off the ground and was dragged out of the cave. He then threw his lightsaber, slicing open the carcass, and telekinetically pulled out a pair of pearls back along with the weapon.

Komad's eyes shone with greed for a moment, before thinking better of it. He bowed in a show of respect. "You are a much greater hunter than I could hope to be. I wish you the best." He walked away.

Leading the way into the cave, the Sith Master found a few chewed corpses in the cave. One of which wore what appeared to be the robes of a Jedi Master. He examined the remains with the Force and found an intact violet lightsaber crystal. In a pile of rubble on the other side of the cave, he found an intact Opila crystal, suggesting that there was another dead Jedi. These findings disturbed him, as he could not remember if he had seen them before. Last time, he was a bit distracted by the excitement of finding the Star Map and didn't search the area carefully. The chewed Jedi corpses were dried, no doubt due to the dry wind on Tatooine, implying the Jedi must have died a while ago. However, he was unable to tell how long ago it had been—not without a lab to perform radiocarbon dating. It could have been one of the Jedi who died during the Great Hunt, or it could have been a visit in the last few years, looking for the Star Map. He did not like the latter possibility.

Deeper in the cave, he found a tattered equipment pack. Using the Force, he searched it and found a datacron. He summoned it to his hand. Opening it, he saw a projection of a man and a young girl. He recognized her as a young Bastila.

Standing next to him, the same girl was taken with emotion. With her own eyes, she saw the evidence of her father's demise, for there was no way he would part with his precious datacron in such a manner as long as he lived. It was a special reward he received years ago for hunting down some treasure. He kept it with him all those years, storing a lifetime of memories, including all he had of the daughter that the Jedi stole from him, depriving them of even a chance to say goodbye. Now, they never could. She leaned on her boyfriend's shoulder and started crying. Revan held her in his arms, letting her pour out all her emotions, offering as much comfort for her as he could. Slowly, her sobs subsided, but he held her anyway, giving her all the time she needed. They continued embracing each other for the next while.


When Bastila finally gathered herself, she took the datacron reverently from Revan's hand and carefully placed it in her pocket. Taking his hand, the couple walked together towards the Star Map, which opened as they approached.

Revan took out his datapad and started recording the waypoints on the Star Map. Half an hour of diligent work later, he let out a scream of frustration, as well as a stream of words in some forsaken language that sounded like very nasty expletives, at least as far as Bastila could tell. "Osti de câlice de sacrament de criss de cibore de marde de tabarnak!"

"What's wrong, Master?" she asked.

"One waypoint. That's what stands between us and the Star Forge. ONE WAYPOINT!" he yelled. "Without it, there is no way we'd be able to plot a hyperspace route to the next waypoint without spending at least a year surveying the whole unexplored area."

"Can you repair this map?" his girlfriend asked.

"The map will repair itself. That waypoint should be fixed in around… 500 years," he answered sarcastically.

"But… if it could repair itself, the information must exist somewhere!" she observed.

"Yes, I know," he agreed. "However, we don't have any tools to access the long-forgotten Rakatan technology. Before you ask, the only place I am aware that has such tools is the Star Forge."

Knowing how frustrated he must be, she pulled him into a hug. "It's okay, we'll go and find another Star Map," she tried to comfort him.

Revan took a few deep breaths. "I suppose you are right, though the longer we delay, the more damage Malak, the Jedi, and the Republic do to the galaxy, and Malak is more likely to figure out what we are doing."

"I know…" she sympathized. Trying to take his mind away from their problems, she asked, "What do the words you were screaming mean? They sound vaguely like Old Corellian, and they also sound like expletives."

"Now that's an interesting tale," the connoisseur of ancient languages grinned. "Those are names for liturgical objects and processes in an ancient religion once practiced on Corellia. For some reason, in one of their colonies, they ended up as expletives, I suspect because they offended the clergy."

"I am not sure if I understand. Can you give a modern example?" asked the apprentice.

He thought for a moment. "Imagine the Jedi Order. It's not too much of a stretch to call it some sort of religion that worships the Force, right?"

She nodded. "Well, given what we have currently seen of the Order, we might as well call it a crazy cult: having crazy beliefs, brainwashing children, ostracizing them from society, trying to completely control the daily lives of every member, denouncing every source of information from outside and any disagreement with the Council as 'of the Dark Side,' and all that," she added snidely. "They don't even have the decency to brainwash their own children like normal cults. They have to steal us away from our parents!"

"Yes," he agreed before smoothly continuing, "Now, think of using the terms 'lightsaber,' 'Jedi,' 'Grandmaster,' 'Trials,' 'knighting ceremony,' 'the Force,' or 'Padawan' to describe stuff you don't like. What would the Jedi Council think? Would they not be terribly offended?"

His girlfriend laughed. "Yes, I can see how it works now. Still, what do the Old Corellian words actually mean?"

"I don't quite understand myself. I know marde is a variant of merde which means 'shit.' I think crisse is some sort of deity, câlice and ciboire are different kinds of cups, tabarnak is some kind of a box, sacrament is some kind of ritual, and osti is some kind of bread? I am not sure why these are considered sacred." He frowned somewhat. "The exact details are lost to history, I am afraid. I remembered the words because I found the idea novel when I read a book about Old Corellian a while back, but I am no archaeologist."

"Interesting…" the Sith apprentice commented. Suddenly, she perked up, "It would be hilarious if we actually started using the Jedi-based profanity that you just made up…"

"Lightsabers!" the Sith Master exclaimed. "Why did that not occur to me?"

The couple shared a laugh while HK-47 watched in confusion.

After a few moments, Canderous spoke up, "We should leave soon if we want to make it back to Anchorhead before nightfall."

"Before we go," Bastila interrupted. "Should we destroy this map?"

"You know, Malak asked me the same question last time we were here," Revan recounted. "I told him no because we might not record every detail and need the originals later. In retrospect, it seemed rather unwise, since any Jedi could have found it and defeated the guardian. Yet, that is the only reason we are able to find it now… Funny how things worked out."

"Perhaps it was your foresight acting on some subconscious level… But you have to admit, the circumstances that led to this moment are rather contrived," his apprentice noted. "It's inconceivable that we would need this map again."

"Indeed, it seems to me the risk of the Jedi finding this map to be far greater, especially when you already informed them of the existence of the Star Maps," Canderous interjected.

"You are right, of course," the Dark Lord agreed. "Everything on the Star Map is on the Star Forge itself anyway. Consider this an opportunity to practice your Lightning, my apprentice."

"Gladly," she agreed, before blasting the Star Map. After a minute, it was half-melted, and no information could possibly be gleaned from it in that state.

"There, it should take at least ten thousand years for it to recover from that damage," her Master noted. Having nothing more to do, they soon found themselves on the trek back.

"What's with all the ancient languages?" the Mandalorian asked. "You two seem to know a lot about them."

"Well, we like learning languages, as you can probably tell," Revan explained. "But learning modern languages is boring for us, since we can just use a bit of telepathy to pull languages out of people's minds."

Canderous recalled how he had never seen Revan struggle to communicate with anyone other than the Sand People. "Is that how you seem to understand everyone in the galaxy?"

"Yes," the Sith Lord confirmed. "Now, you must be wondering about the Sand People. I tried. They don't quite think like normal, civilized people. Delving into their minds was a mistake." He winced at the memory of his past attempt to read their minds. "Anyway… we always wanted to learn a language the normal way. To avoid the temptation to use telepathy, we decided to learn the original languages of our birth worlds, long forgotten now that basically every human speaks Basic. For me, that was Deralia, which used to be a Corellian colony and once spoke Old Corellian."

"And for me, that was Old Talravin," Bastila continued. "So we learned the languages from ancient books in the Jedi Archives for fun, and then shared them with each other through telepathy, of course. So we do speak both languages."

"How interesting," the Mandalorian said finally.


A/N: There's no reason to believe the Sand People—at least, the ones actively attacking humans—have changed their ways between the KotOR era and the prequel era, so I am assuming they are giving the full Shmi Skywalker treatment to their prisoners, one by one to maximize the terror, and it's just too graphic for the game.