Star Wars 1. Jump

**Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars, KOTOR, and several other aspects of this story. However, the plot, several characters, and dialogue are mine. I am making no profit for this, nor do I intend to. If you want to post this fic on your own site, please consult me first and I will most likely allow you to, provided that there is a way for me to receive reader feedback. **

******Hello Everyone. This story began as a fun little project more than four years ago and I was pleasantly shocked and amazed when it started to received so much positive feedback. Sadly, about two and a half years ago, I felt that keeping up with this story and others things in life had become too difficult. This story was put on the shelf and out of production. I recently reread it however and found my inspiration. So now, I'd like to thank you for reading what I like to call Phase Two of The Darkest Lord. The chapters will all be subtly altered in the next few days. The most dramatic change is that you will see appropriate line breaks between scenes in each chapter in order to make transitions easier to follow. Whether you are a new reader or an old friend returning, I am truly glad that you are here. This story wouldn't be anything without people with a love of literature who simply want to enjoy creativity in the mythos of worlds they love.**  
**-Lord Darth Master**

**The Darkest Lord  
Chapter I: Jump through the Ages**

Through the visor of his faceless mask, Darth Revan observed the space conflict from the bridge of his flagship, his face as blank as the façade that hid it. Superior numbers, technology, and efficiency had the unorganized Republic forces scrambling for cover behind their capital ships, which were now bearing the brunt of the Sith onslaught. The computerized analysis of the Republic's front line of ships was displayed through the Dark Lord's visor, informing him that most of the ships' deflector shields were below forty percent, while a select few of them had already lost their shields and were defended only by the heavy metal plating that made up their hulls. He was confident that the fleet would soon be decimated and the Sith would be able to begin their conquest of the core worlds, purging the galaxy's weakness from its heart.

His plan was a grand one. It had all begun when the Mandalorian Neo-Crusaders had started to systematically conquer worlds and territories along the outer rim of the Republic, using each world to build up their strength, supplies, and numbers. Despite a unanimous cry from all of the Jedi in the order, the Jedi Council had forbade their participation in the struggle, claiming that an even greater force existed, which had goaded the Mandalorians into battle and was responsible for the war. Despite his efforts to find this force that the council had spoken of both during and after the war, Revan had only been able to uncover one piece of evidence that even suggested that there may have been a threat besides the Neo-crusaders. An old academy of the dark arts stood in the heart of a world known as Malachor V, an ancient structure at the edge of what had once been an empire of unchallenged strength and power.

Though he did not know the specifics, Revan knew that those who had built the academy had perished, seeing as how their empire was no more and their teachings were all but forgotten. Fearing that the council may have been right, he and those who were loyal to him had ventured out of known space and began to hunt out those who had thrust war into their lives. They had found nothing. There was nothing outside of the Republic. None of the dozens of planets that had surveyed still contained life besides the native flora and fauna that naturally developed there, none of which could be classified as intelligent. Having proven that the Jedi Masters had been wrong, Revan had come to the realization that their hold on the galaxy had cost the Republic billions of lives, a mistake that he and his men could not simply overlook. This threat that they had feared had been no more than a ghost tale and had prevented the bulk of their order from entering a conflict that had claimed the lives of those they had sworn to protect.

War had changed him though. Revan no longer cared whether or not the innocent lived or died, rather that the galaxy seek the strength that it would need to defend itself without the aid of the Jedi Knights. He wanted them to be unnecessary, due to the fact that their failure had been too grand to be forgiven and their presence and general acceptance within the Republic was a cancer that needed to be cured. Much like a cancer however, there was no actual cure. The Jedi could not be cured to see the error of their ways as a child or a sensible adult could. Like a cancer, there was only one way to successfully deal with the Jedi within the Republic: to cut it out. His war was not with the Republic, though it had risen up to defend its supposed defenders from the extermination that was due to them.

His cause was not a hopeless one, however. Despite the fact that he and his Sith had been forced to claim the lives of billions, they had also managed to sway thousands to their cause. The Sith had become an empire unto itself and soon that empire would encompass the greatest democracy to ever exist within the galaxy. The small fleet that stood between his forces and Coruscant was all that stood between the Sith and ultimate victory, which would benefit all who lived.

Therefore, it was imperative that he finish off the Republic before they had time to draw reinforcements from the other Core worlds, which would hamper the Sith efforts tremendously. There was something, however, that the Dark Lord did not know, which would prove even more detrimental to his plans than a Republic fleet four times the size one he was currently facing.

In a private meeting between Chancellor Diath and the Jedi Council, the decision to capture either Revan or Malak and attempt to use them to draw out the secrets of their power and the source of their endless fleet of ships and resources. A handful of elite soldiers and unique Jedi had been selected to board either of the Dark Lords' ships, each one having specific talents or skills that put them above most of the usual crusaders against Darth Revan and Darth Malak.

Commander Carth Onasi was one such soldier who had been assigned to the special strike team in this battle, due to his piloting skills and his sharp eye with a blaster. In the last year alone, he had been award seventeen different medals and honors for his work against the Sith forces, most notable being the destruction of a Sith flagship called _The Leviathan. _Onasi currently sat in a one man space fighter that soared in a standard V formation en route towards the _Spirit of Revenge, _Darth Revan's personal Interdictor dreadnaught.

Using a prototype cloaking device, the strike team had managed to slip by the Sith forces by flying far below them and then coming up under the belly of the ship. The cloaking technology, designed by verpine engineers in the capital building of Coruscant, could hide a ship of any size from any type of radar or scanner by dampening the frequencies that its systems put out, although it did leave the ship visible to the naked eye. Therefore, they had a distinct advantage over space foes. Blaster fire in space relied on a targeting system, which tapped into the ship's scanners for accuracy. Once the scanners became worthless, so did the cannons. Still, it was best for the strike team to stay below the battle, lest some lucky Sith fighter managed to fire a torpedo that happened to strike one of the ships, ending their mission before it began.

Staying in formation, Carth guided his fighter upwards, towards _The Spirit of Revenge_ and into the heat of the space battle. There was no way that the Sith Interdictor dreadnaught had managed to spot them yet. At six hundred meters long, the _Spirit _had only one view port window, which had been built on the bridge, located at the very nose of the ship. Therefore, logic dictated that no one could have foreseen their arrival, but Carth was still very cautious about the situation, having seen first hand the mysterious powers the Sith could wield and knowing that Darth Revan was by far the most powerful of these enigmatic Dark Jedi. If the Dark Lord had sensed their arrival, the small unit of twnety men and women would stand no chance if the Sith activated the dreadnaught's twenty quad laser cannons, four battery turrets, and two ion cannons. Even if they started shooting blind in every direction, there was a fair chanced that they would still managed to take out a large portion of the strike team. He kept his eye on the quad cannon that he was about to pass as the team began to hover in front of the hangar.

"Proceed with caution," the Jedi who was commanding the team ordered. "May the Force be with you."

The age old term of the Jedi, which in Carth's opinion was the equivalent to Galactic Basic's "Good luck" was lost on him. He needed neither the Force, nor luck to complete this mission. As far as he was concerned, they needed a damn miracle. He had opposed the idea of luring the Sith so close to the Republic's capital in order to attempt to capture their leader. Even if they did take Darth Revan or Malak, the rest of the forces may not retreat. The Sith soldiers could press their luck and attempt to conquer Coruscant, which would only end in high casualties for both sides and it was a complete coin toss as to who would win. Despite his opposition to the plan, the Jedi Council and Chancellor Diath had overruled his suggestion and named him the commanding officer for the mission. Therefore, he was forced to do as he had been ordered.

The small ships slipped into the hangar and the occupants began to emerge, ready for the Sith to open fire. Surprisingly, there were no personnel inside of the hangar. The crew must have already disengaged and joined the attack on the Republic fleet.

From the bridge of the _Spirit_, Captain Sazer furrowed his brow as he looked at the readings that were beginning to come up on his computer, which informed him that the twenty of the twenty four spaces inside the hangar had been filled. None of these new ships' ID signatures matched those of the Sith fighters that usually docked there. _We've been boarded. _The captain quickly tapped into the security feed, which brought up the image of fifteen Republic soldiers and five Jedi Knights.

He opened the intercom, which would send the message to the fifty thousand different officers that were onboard the ship, effectively cutting off the intruders chances of pressing onward. "Security to the hangar. I repeat, security to the hangar. This is a Class One emergency. We have been boarded by a small force of Republic forces and Jedi Knights. Shoot on sight."

Darth Revan approached the captain and gazed at the small computer screen that showed the strike team looking urgently about the hangar. They had clearly heard the captain's announcement, shattering any hopes that they could use the element of surprise to their advantage, for whatever it would have been worth in this case. Calculating the risk, Revan turned from the captain and began to walk out of the bridge. He would deal with this intrusion himself.

Back inside of the hangar, Carth pulled one of his heavily modified and customized blaster pistols from his thigh holster and held it at the ready. The Sith would begin to flood into the room soon and they needed to be ready. He tapped the small device on his wrist, which was a miniature computer that could, among other things, display the stolen blueprints for the ship. Taking stock of their situation, he decided the best course of action would be to go through the door to the far right end of the hangar, break into the weapons storage unit, set off an explosion that would act as a suitable diversion and then climb into the ships ventilation systems, where they could make their way to the bridge without being seen by security cameras.

"Follow me," he ordered his fellow soldiers as he proceeded towards the door.

"Wait, what's our plan?" one of the Jedi called to him. Carth turned to her, instantly annoyed. She was young, which was the only reason he would excuse such a novice outburst such as the one she had just made. One of the first lessons he had learned as a cadet was to keep your mouth shut and to follow orders. They were clearly under surveillance, which meant they couldn't actually communicate with one another openly, lest the Sith hear every word and formulate a counterstrike. Conveying strategies with each other was out of the question and she should have known better.

Upon his inspection, Carth had to wonder why that particular Jedi was even a part of the team. Judging from her appearance, she was in her early twenties or maybe even younger. If she was even a knight, which he doubted, she had only just been promoted to the rank. Her face and fair skin weren't as worn and hardened as those of the rest of the Jedi. She seemed to have been spared the hardships of war since its outbreak. She spoke with a very thick cultured accent that Carth wanted to identify as native Talravin. The Jedi had tied her hair back into two small braids behind her and wore a set of tan formfitting robes that were personalized, differing sharply from the traditional garments worn by rest of the Jedi. He could only assume that she was special in some way, but her appearance didn't tell him how.

Thankfully, an older Jedi silently rebuked her for her rash attitude with a dark look and they were able to move on quietly. The hallway they entered had a small security force of Sith troops approaching them. Carth and several other soldiers opened fire using their blasters, while the Jedi girl that had questioned him a moment ago stepped back, closed her eyes, and began to focus. The Sith that were approaching them went for their weapons, but their movements seemed sluggish and lazy. They didn't seem very motivated to apprehend their foes or even fight for their very lives. The small volley of blaster fire that Carth and his men sprayed at them was more than enough to overwhelm them before they reached the strike team.

"Good work, Bastila," one Jedi congratulated before they moved on.

"What'd she do?" someone asked as they continued.

_Good question. _Carth thought to himself.

Four floors above them, Darth Revan could feel the outcome of the small skirmish in the corridor. He stopped to consider what the strange anomaly in the Force could have been that he had felt before a team of his men's Force signature's had vanished. He would have to remember to extract the information from one of the Jedi before he killed them. As he walked, two Dark Jedi that were stationed outside of the prison cell block saluted him. Deciding that it would be prudent to have assistance that could actually stand against a Jedi, he stopped and turned back to them.

"Follow me," he ordered.

Without question, the two Dark Jedi abandoned their post and followed their master down the halls of his ship, leaving the empty prison block unguarded.

The strike team had been cut off at the weapon's room and had been forced to retreat back to the garage. Here, the Sith stored all of their speeders and their swoop bikes, which were being worked on a fine tuned by several engineers and technicians. The security force followed them into the garage and attacked. Using the door as a thinning point, the soldiers began to pick off the security team as they entered, making it difficult for the Sith to get a clear shot at any of them. While the soldier dealt with security, the Jedi had turned their attention to the garage crew. The battle did not last long. Carth was soon recalculating their choices, trying to decide what would be the next most effective way of getting to the bridge.

"Master, do you sense that?" the female Jedi who went by the name Bastila asked an aqua colored Twi'lek who seemed slightly older than the rest of the Jedi. The master nodded her head, her lekku bouncing with the firmness of the nod. All of the Jedi could sense the dark presence that was approaching them, which moved with a speed that could only be attained by one who was drawing on the Force in such closed quarters as a ship.

"What is going on?" Carth asked the Jedi Master.

"The Dark Lord is coming towards us," she replied. "Lightsabers at the ready," she instructed her fellow Jedi. "This is what we've been training for! Bastila, I want you to remain here and use your Battle Meditation to weaken the Dark Lord's resolve and tip the scales in our favor." She turned to Carth and her voice held the tone of someone who had taken complete control of the situation, meaning she had pulled rank on him and he was no longer in charge. "We cannot afford to have Bastila distracted while she is using her Battle Meditation to aid us, Commander Onasi. Will you stay with her and protect her from the Sith?"

Carth understood what the Jedi Master was trying to do. She had relieved him of his command of the situation and now she was trying to get rid of him so that he wouldn't be a nuisance to her later on in the mission. Although he didn't particularly like the situation, he didn't have much choice in the matter, as she was a superior officer. It had been awhile since he had actually served with any of the Jedi in the Republic Navy, but he was pretty sure that the Jedi Masters at least held the rank of General, while he was only a Commander. He nodded his head with dignity, refusing to show this Jedi just how angry he actually was with her at the moment, despite the fact that she could probably sense his unshielded thoughts.

"Good," the Twi'lek said turning to the rest of the strike team. "We don't want to have an open confrontation with the Dark Lord in a closed space. We need to lure him someplace more open."

"Take them to the training hall," Carth suggested, earning a dark look from the Jedi General who was now in charge of the situation. He glared back at her, but maintained his position on the situation. "All of the Sith are on duty during a situation like this one. You won't find any of them running training simulations. The room should be empty and it's a wide open space that you can use for melee combat."

Despite her dislike of Onasi's superiority complex, the Jedi had to admit that the plan was a good one for the most part. The nodded at him grudgingly and turned away. "Follow me," she said to the rest of the strike team, leaving Carth and the Jedi, Bastila, alone together in the garage. Once they were gone, the Republic Commander drew a small security spike from his pocket. He inserted the spike into the door's key card receptacle and waited for it to hack the program. With a nod, Carth locked down the garage and activated the blast doors. Manual override had been deactivated as well. The only wait the Sith could get into the garage was if they had a whole lot of fire power in front of them… which wasn't exactly out of the question.

While Carth was securing the room, Bastila had fallen to her knees and had fallen deep into her meditation. She no longer saw the room as it was, for her eyes had closed and her normal vision had been blackened. She saw the ship and those who occupied it through the Force. Each person was a small blur of light in her mind. The Republic soldiers, as well as Onasi and the Sith troops were close to a gray color to her, though they were each tinted with a slight blue or red color, depending on their loyalty to either the Republic or the Sith. The Jedi on the other hand were all a radiant blue color, which inspired the beholder and sent warmth through her mind and body to see. The Dark Jedi who had been trained in the ways of the Sith were quite the opposite. The chaotic red lighting made them fearsome and the overwhelming amount of the dark side energy that was around her almost blotted out the faith and resolve that the Jedi made her feel. Through the Force, she began searching for one individual Dark Jedi among the others: Darth Revan.

It wasn't long before she found him traveling through the elevator down to the hangar floor. His dark aura was different from any other on board _the Spirit of Revenge, _and it filled her with horror to know that such an evil could exist in the galaxy and how tainted and warped the Force could become because of just one twisted man. His aura wasn't just the blood crimson color that she could feel inside the two Dark Jedi that were accompanying him. Looking into his aura and his spirit was similar to looking into the fiery chasms of Hell itself.

Darth Revan stepped off of the elevator and began to search through the Force for the Jedi that had boarded his ship. It wasn't long before he realized where they had gone and their strategy had become painfully obvious. They were planning on luring him into the narrow hallway out side of the training rooms in order to have the soldiers tire or weaken him and then once he moved into the actual room where the Jedi were waiting, they would ambush him in an attempt to overwhelm him. With confidence, the Dark Lord decided that he would walk right into the Jedi's trap and still overcome them with relative ease.

The Jedi could already sense him coming and were getting anxious. The Lord of the Sith had slowed his pace and was letting anticipation and anxiety work their will inside the minds of the soldiers and the Jedi. Nerves were running high and practically everyone was shaking, terrified of what could happen in the next few minutes. Four of the fourteen soldiers were standing outside of the training room, weapons primed for battle. Two of them held Republic prototype vibroblades in their hands which utilized a new type of power cell fixture to maximize damage upon contact, while the other two were holding thermal detonators that they would cast at their foes the moment they rounded the corner.

The time finally came. Darth Revan rounded the corner and came into their sight. "He's here!" one of the soldiers warned those who were still inside. The two soldiers in the front hurled their explosives at the trio of Dark Jedi approaching them. Without breaking his stride, Revan used the Force to push the two spheres back at the soldiers. There were screams of fear before they went off, creating a massive explosion outside of the training room. All four of those who had made up the forefront were killed by the blast, as well as three more who had believed themselves to be safe within the training room.

On the other side of that floor of _the Spirit of Revenge, _Bastila Shan began to focus within the Force, allowing it to consume her. She basked in its power before turning her mind to the situation at hand. She could sense seven soldiers and four Jedi remaining on the ship. They were being confronted by two Dark Jedi and the Dark Lord himself. Using her power, Bastila began to rip the resolve away from the three Sith and weaken their hopes of victory. While she meditated, their efforts would become sloppy and they would perform with minimum efficiency, while the opposite was true of her allies. The Jedi and Republic soldiers were already beginning to feel an increase in their strength of will and their determination to overthrow the Sith forces.

Darth Revan noticed the sluggish performance of his two Sith apprentices while they fought against the Jedi. He could feel his own sense of will being tampered with as well, as if someone had intruded into his mind and was playing with his thoughts. Comfortable in the idea that it would take his men at least another couple of minutes to die, he turned his mind into the Force and sure enough, he found an intruder. There was another Jedi aboard the ship and he suddenly understood that this Jedi was using the art of Battle Meditation in order to weaken him. He had heard that there was a padawan within the order who had the rare gift and a hint of a smirk formed on his lips. Raising his mental shields, Revan thrust Bastila out of his mind and broke their connection. She would not impair his abilities while he fought against the Republic forces.

His two Sith had fallen, but so had all of the remaining soldiers. It was just him and four Jedi. All four of them had their lightsabers active and they all had confident looks on their faces, causing him to smirk beneath the mask he wore. The fools would never be able to overcome the power he wielded within the Force. The Dark Lord drew his lightsaber and his thumb depressed the activation switch. The crimson hued blade sprang forth and he began to walk into the training room. The Jedi began to circle him, rotating around him in an attempt to catch him off guard. Unfortunately, he could sense them all and knew the thoughts of each Jedi in the room.

A human Jedi leapt at him and swung his saber in a wide arc. Overconfidence was his downfall. It allowed Revan ample time to see the attack, side step, and retaliate. He plunged his lightsaber into the Jedi's chest, burning through the heart. He wrenched the blade upward to pull it free, cutting through the center of the Jedi's head. Two more Jedi jumped at him, swinging their blades in an elegant flurry of attacks. Despite the fact that the two Jedi were attacking him from opposite sides, he was still able to move with enough speed to block every attack. They swung at him with two powerful attacks simultaneously, attempting to cut into his stomach, but he brought his blade up in time to catch both attacks on it.

"You can't win this one, Revan," the Jedi Master warned as she approached him, her lilac lightsaber pointed towards where his neck was beneath the mask.

"Really?" the Dark Lord asked as a grin split across his features.

Without moving, Revan was able to unleash a powerful wave of dark Force energy, which sent all three Jedi sprawling backwards. He sliced through one of the Jedi Knights before he could fly too far away, while the other one went sailing into the wall. His head smashed into the durasteel plating that covered the room and the Twi'lek Jedi Master heard a loud snapping sound. She closed her eyes and gasped at the sickening noise before she heard Revan approaching her. Looking up, she saw the Dark Lord's saber pointed at her neck. She gulped, but that was the only indication of fear that she would give off. He would not hear her beg for her life and she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her fall to his cause.

"Kill me, Sith swine!" she snarled.

Being one to please, Revan cut a large gash into her stomach with his lightsaber, causing her to scream in agony. He then used the Force to wrench her intestinesfrom her body and tossed them on the ground. The Dark Lord turned away and left the mess behind him, knowing full well that it would take several minutes for the Jedi Master to die, though he received no pleasure, nor guilt from what he had just done. The Jedi Master was a blight on the galaxy and it was his job to end her life. The death of every Jedi brought the Republic closer to the independent force that it should be, therefore it was only right that he should finish her off. The extra pain he inflicted was purely a matter of justice in his mind. A Jedi Master would have to have been old enough to join the Mandalorian Wars when they had broken out, therefore the Twi'lek he had just slain had been one of those who had refused to join his cause against the Neo-crusaders. The pain she felt now was nothing compared to the pain that thousands of his men and women had suffered at the hands of the invaders.

There was only one thing he needed to do before he could return his attention to the space battle that was raging outside of his ship. The Jedi that had tried to invade his mind during the battle was still on his ship. She was hiding her presence now, but he could still feel the faint essence of light side energy that was coming from the garage. He needed to deal with her before he could return to the bridge. Still, it would have been foolish for him to turn a blind eye to the situation altogether. He put his hand to his ear and activated the comm. link that he had hidden beneath his mask.

"Malak, what's the situation?"

Revan had to wait a moment before he received an answer from his friend and apprentice, but when it came through there was a buzz of static that made it difficult to understand. "Aren't you watching this?" the bald former Jedi asked.

"The Jedi boarded my ship. I had to deal with the matter," he explained.

"Have they been finished?"

"Of course," the Dark Lord replied. "Now what is the situation?"

Malak knew that Revan hated it when he was forced to repeat himself and his apprentice had just unwittingly forced him to do so. The Sith Lord quickly hastened to answer the question. "We've lost one of the Interdictor Dreadnaughts. The Republic is using a new kind of turbo laser cannon that they've mounted onto their capital ships. Still, our forces have overrun theirs. It will take a miracle to save them now."

Revan nodded, having expected as much. "Alright, I still have one last rodent to deal with. I want the entire fleet locked onto the _Spirit's _navicomputer. We're about to bring our entire fleet into the atmosphere as soon as I give the word."

"Yes Master," Malak replied.

Revan cut the transmission and deactivated his lightsaber. Clipping it to his belt, the Dark Lord began towards the garage where he could sense the last Jedi hiding. Despite the fact that the rare gift of Battle Meditation could be used to aid the Sith, this Jedi had used her skills against him personally, which was an insult that he was not willing to overlook. She would be dealt with in a fashion that was more painful than her master's death.

On the other end of the space battle, Admiral Forn Dodanna had just given the command for the Republic's capital warship, _The Harbinger, _to activate the new quad laser turret, which would unleash a blast of superheated plasma towards the _Spirit of Revenge_. It was a last ditch effort, but there had been no word from the strike team and she was running low on options. The new cannon was running off of a new type of power source, which she didn't actually know the specifics of. All she did know was that it was a lot more powerful than any other gun in the Republic armada.

"Open fire," she ordered.

The blast sprayed across space and struck the hull of the _Spirit of Revenge _dead on. The ship shook violently, knocking almost everyone on board off of their feet. On the bridge, a navigation officer was throw forward, smashing his head into the computer console. The force of the impact shattered his skull, piercing his brain and turning him into a vegetable before he died. His head had smacked to coordinate computer, typing in a random set of coordinates that could quite possibly lead to nowhere.

Having received Revan's orders to synchronize their navicomputers, every ship in the Sith fleet reprogrammed their coordinates to match the ones that were coming in from the _Spirit. _Malak didn't recognize them, but he was sure that Revan knew what he was doing. In less than a minute, the entire Sith fleet made the jump to lightspeed, entering the blue hyperspace tunnels and leaving the Republic fleet bewildered at what had just happened.

Although people would theorize as to what had happened to Darth Revan and Darth Malak, they would never learn the truth. Those who had been active during the time of the Mandalorian Wars and this Sith War that Revan had launched on the Republic would die before the mystery was solved. Countless generations would pass and as time went on, the story of Revan and Malak would become an unsolved part of history. Four thousand years would pass before anyone learned what really happened during the Battle Over Coruscant.

**If anyone is interested in seeing more stuff that I have worked on, I am a crew member on a new web show. It is a comedy series called "Revenge of The Sock," which can be viewed on YouTube or at . It very loosely and unofficially ties in with "Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog" for those of you who were fans. The original video was one of the Evil League of Evil application videos for the DVD, though it wasn't selected. I'd appreciate you guys checking it out and giving us some feedback. Please note, I am not the writer/director/producer of the series. Contacting him with regards to any fan fictions will just confuse him. Also, for any Mass Effect fans out there, I have a KOTOR/Mass Effect 2 crossover story that I've started updating again as well. You'll probably get a kick out of that.**


	2. Escape

**The Darkest Lord  
Chapter II: Escape**

Within mere moments of the initial shock of having jumped to lightspeed, the Sith fleet re-emerged from hyperspace, expecting to be surrounded by Republic forces after performing a still jump. Much to their surprise, they weren't. In fact, there was no one near them. They hadn't performed a still jump at all, but had somehow traveled to a different region of the galaxy. Officers on the bridges of major crafts and the pilots of smaller ones all looked about in bewilderment, trying to ascertain what had just happened. Aboard the _Spirit of Revenge_, Darth Revan pulled himself to his feet checked his surroundings for any possible threat. Finding none, he activated his comm. device and opened the channel between himself and the bridge of the ship.

"Report," he ordered.

A moment later, Captain Sazer answered in an unsure tone. "We made the jump to lightspeed, Lord Revan," the Sith officer replied. "We're trying to calculate our exact location."

"Why did we retreat?"

"It was an accident, Milord. Alzo was killed by the Republic's last attack and he must have hit something when he keeled over."

The Dark Lord could hardly believe what he had just heard. The entire Sith fleet, for he could sense that all of his men and women had followed his ship into hyperspace, had retreated from a battle they had been winning because of a blundering idiot's dieing mistake. His desire to kill the last Jedi suddenly increased tenfold, but he calmed his rage enough to focus on the task at hand. He needed to know where they were. They hadn't been in hyperspace for very long, which meant that they couldn't have gone more than a few lightyears. Hell, for the amount of time that they had been in transit, it very well should have been a still jump. Even the Star Forge ships shouldn't have been able to travel through hyperspace so quickly. Also, there had been no mention of the Republic's forces in Sazer's report, which led him to believe that there was nothing to mention. They were in no danger, but where were they. If they had only traveled a short distance, the Republic forces should have been hot on their heels.

"This system looks familiar, Lord Revan," Sazer commented as he looked at the astrocharts that the computer was creating. It's very similar to the… the Alderaan system, but it's missing a few things."

"Such as?" Revan dared to ask.

"Alderaan," the Captain replied in bewilderment.

Revan delved into the Force in order to take a look at the system that they were in for himself. He was shocked with the results of his test though. His mind was suddenly overwhelmed by the screams of countless minds that had suddenly become one with the Force all in the span of half a minute. The experience quite literally knocked the breath out of him and he fell to one knee. His eyes were wide and he gasped for air beneath his mask. The pain was incredible. With a loud grunt, the Dark Lord retreated, bringing his mind back to his body. He let his breath come and go for a moment before his brain set to work to calculating an explanation for what had just happened.

"Captain Sazer," he spoke into the comm. channel.

"Yes Sir?"

"I want you to bring up the galaxy map and study the Alderaan system," he ordered. "Have the computer's simulators generate a concept image of what the system would look like if Alderaan and its gravitational pull were erased." He waited for quite some time before he heard a gasp through his comm. "They're identical, aren't they?"

"Very nearly," Sazer answered still reeling from the shock of what he was seeing. "There is an asteroid field in the real thing, but aside from that they are."

"So Alderaan has been destroyed," Revan mused as he stood up and began to walk towards the elevator. He would deal with the Jedi later. Right now, he needed to worry about his fleet. Whatever machine or creature that had destroyed the entire planet could still be near and while the Jedi preached that the power to destroy a planet was insignificant when compared to the Force, Revan was compelled to say that they were on pretty even terms.

"Lord Revan, there are two small fighters approaching," Sazer warned.

"Republic?" he asked.

"Negative, Sir. Unknown make and model. Moving fast."

Revan stepped into the elevator and frowned as he folded his arms. This was very strange indeed. He needed to see this for himself. "Go to blackout," he ordered. "I want life support systems only. Shut everything else down and send the same orders across the fleet."

"Yes sir," Sazer answered.

On the other side of the Alderaan system, aboard a space station that was comparable in size to a small moon, another Sith Lord was experiencing a feeling similar to Darth Revan's. Darth Vader, beneath the helmet that he wore to hide the ghastly injuries he had received nearly twenty years previously, frowned. The Imperial Officer that stood before him, Grand Moff Tarkin, was waiting for him to reply impatiently. The Moff had been indignant when the Dark Lord had seemed unsurprised by his rather urgent report, not knowing that Vader had sensed the arrival of the massive fleet that had just appeared as if from thin air, or the lack of that was in space. Tarkin had expected him to react instantly and order the battle station's defenses to be activated, but the Emperor's apprentice had not done so. Instead, he had gone into one of the long drawn out silences that he seemed to take to when he needed to resolve a problem that was set before him. This had proven quite annoying on several occasions, as no one really knew what he was doing when he fell into his meditations.

In truth, Vader, like Revan, had reached into the Force to study the Alderaan system from a more effective point of view than any of the Death Star's computers could. Having expected the sudden rush of screams coming from those who had been killed when the space station destroyed Alderaan, Vader was able to simply push passed it and look into the galaxy. He saw the fleet that was slowly drifting through space, for they had shut off all of their power reserves and were using nothing but their life support functions. What caught the Sith Lord's attention was the fact that all of the sentient beings on board the ship were tainted with the dark side of the Force. His first instinct had been that the Rebellion had been able to secretly construct or commandeer a fleet that would fly against the Death Star in a foolhardy attempt to destroy the threat before it was fully operational, but he now realized that it was not a Rebel fleet. There were no dark side practitioners within the Rebel Alliance. They had all sworn allegiance to the Emperor himself and served as his Hands, his personal guards, or in Vader's case, his apprentice.

"This is interesting," the black armor clad Sith Lord spoke as he considered the situation. "Tarkin, I want my shuttle prepared. I'm going to make contact."

"With Rebels?" the Moff asked in disbelief.

"They are not Rebels. They're something else… something I have a feeling that the Emperor would be very interested to hear about."

"And what of the princess?" he asked.

"She can wait," the Dark Lord sneered as he stood up.

Revan was curious, if nothing else, when he heard that a small shuttle was approaching the Sith fleet with no weapons and no back up. By now, the Sith had already managed to scan the entire system and they were well aware that the Death Star was waiting for them at the other end. Most of the soldiers were terrified when they heard that a space station the size of Endor even existed, but not a one of them had the nerve to voice their opinions to the Dark Jedi. Word had already spread. The entire fleet had powered down and was operating with only life support, radar and line of sight satellite transmission. The last of these was a crude method of relaying messages from ship to ship, but there was no questioning the fact that it was effective and untraceable even by advanced computers.

From his own ship, Malak was wondering what Revan had planned for this shuttle. The order had been relayed that the entire fleet was to remain powered down, but he could see through the viewport of his ship that _the Spirit of Revenge _was beginning to activate.

"What are you playing at, Revan?" he wondered aloud.

"Sazer, have your officers activate the _Spirit's _tractor beam. I want to meet our guests face to face," the Lord of the Sith ordered from his own ship's bridge.

Upon hearing the captain's affirmative reply, the Dark Lord turned on his heel and strode out of the room. As he made his way towards the hangar, he remembered the Jedi who had distracted him during the battle with the strike team and frowned. She needed to be dealt with, but he didn't have time to do it personally. It was a shame, as the Jedi did deserve to be punished for her crime against him, but the situation couldn't be helped. His ship had made an unknown jump into a Core sector where the capital planet had been destroyed. One Jedi had suddenly fallen rather low on his priority list. He sent a message back to the bridge, ordering security to sweep the entire ship for any sign of an intruder and to kill on sight.

Bastila Shan and Carth Onasi had expected such a dilemma after the Jedi Commander had felt the screams within the Force that the area they were in echoed. Having attempted to explain to Carth what it meant, Bastila gave up, deciding that a Force blind could never understand the higher connection with life and death that all Jedi felt. Once she assured the soldier that it was simpler if he remained in the dark, they left garage where they had been hiding, deciding to retreat using the ships that they had docked in the hangars.

Their plans were dashed when they saw that a shuttle was preparing to dock inside of the hangar as well, leaving them with no means of escape, forcing them to hide behind one of the docked star fighters that they had piloted less than an hour before. They didn't know that the Sith were just as unaware of the identity of the shuttle's personnel as they were. Figuring that it contained more Sith allies, they looked at one another, trying to decide what was the appropriate course of action. Another problem quickly arose for them to face. As the Imperial shuttle folded up its fins and the boarding ramp appeared, Darth Revan entered the room from the main entrance.

Darth Vader began to walk down the boarding ramp and walked towards the figure that was clad in red and black armor that was approaching him. The two stopped in front of each other and began to size one another up. The analysis was similar on both ends, as both of them could sense the enormous amount of dark Force energy within the other and neither could determine the physical state of the other due to the armor that they both clad themselves in.

_This man is more powerful than Malak. _Revan mused.

_This man is more powerful than the Emperor. _Vader thought to himself.

At last, the tension was broken by an offer of peace from Revan, who extended his hand towards the other Sith Lord. Vader, having expected a challenge, was weary of the stranger's gesture, but decided to play along all the same. The two gave each other a firm hand shake, which could only be considered a good first impression on both ends. A hand shake could tell a lot about a person. One with no strength behind it showed the weakness of he who used it, while one that was capable of breaking someone's hand showed the need to show off or overcompensate. Both of the Sith Lords felt this way and both had successfully passed this test in the eyes of the other. It was firm, but not bone crushing.

"As the host of this meeting, I'll do the honors and introduce myself first," Revan offered. "My name is Darth Revan, Dark Lord of the Sith and soon to be Emperor of the Sith Empire."

A new thought struck Vader. This man and those who served him were not Dark Side users that were loyal to the Emperor. They were rebels, as he had first suspected, though they were still probably not aligned with the Rebel Alliance. No, these were rebels who hoped to overthrow the Empire as it currently stood and rebuild it using the teachings of the Sith, which had been kept confidential between himself and his master for nearly twenty years. The name "Revan" did not strike any bells within the Sith Lord's mind. Though he had studied history in his time as a Jedi and a Sith, Vader had not delved into the histories that took place before the Ruusan Reformation, which was now considered to be the creation of the Republic, as he had known it.

The Dark Lord suddenly perceived the situation he was in. There was an entire fleet filled with Sith that had plotted and schemed to overthrow his master surrounding him. Being one the of the most powerful Force users that the galaxy knew, Vader was confident in his own abilities, but he was no so arrogant as to believe that he could wipe out an entire fleet without dieing himself. Still if he had to, the Sith apprentice would slaughter as many of these traitors as he could before they ended his own life.

Revan was beginning to grow impatient while he waited for his "guest" to introduce himself. Vader saw this and hastened to fix this mistake, realizing that a cordial approach was probably going to be the most effective. "I am Darth Vader, apprentice to the Dark Lord of the Sith and servant of our Emperor."

"I sensed the thoughts of one knowledgeable of the Sith in your mind," Revan commented as he strode passed Vader and began to examine the vessel that had brought him onto the Interdictor Dreadnaught. "It would seem that two separate factions of the Sith have risen in the galaxy. In fact, I am not surprised. I had always wondered what had happened to those who had been loyal to Exar Kun after his defeat."

"Exar Kun?" Vader repeated.

"So you are not former followers of Exar Kun and Ulic Qel-Droma? Odd."

Bastila was watching the scene before her unfold with disbelief. There was another Sith Lord in the galaxy that rivaled Revan in terms of power. Her first instinct was that this must have been the threat that the Jedi had warned Revan of during the Mandalorian Wars. She couldn't possibly fathom a threat any greater than the combined power of the two Sith Lords that she saw before her. Add Darth Malak to the equation and the amount of darkness in the galaxy would be capable of blotting out the light forever. The Jedi would be like gizka when compared to a mutated rancor.

In her nervousness, Bastila's mental shields slipped, alerting the two Sith in the room to her presence. Vader did not react, but Revan did. He spotted her instantly behind the ship she had chosen to hide behind and leapt towards her. Carth and Bastila dove out of his way, avoiding what surely would have been their deaths. Revan ignored Carth and went for the Jedi quickly. He hurled her towards Vader with the Force and began to approach them both with long quick strides. Vader recognized the power of a Jedi within the girl before him and frowned beneath his helm. He had thought that he had managed to purge that galaxy of their kind since the formation of the Empire.

"Stop!" Vader cried out as Revan prepared to kill the Jedi.

He looked down at her with fascination, having not seen a Jedi in the last twenty years. How had this one escaped his sweep of the galaxy and if she had been able to, maybe there were others.

Revan was not a patient man and it annoyed him that his work had been halted by a man who should have seen as much of a reason to hate Jedi as he did. After pinning both Bastila and Carth to the ground so they would not interrupt, he looked up at Vader, his face demanding an explanation from behind the faceless mask that conveyed no such message. Despite no verbal inquiry, the black armor clad Sith Lord understood the point. His host's aura screamed for an answer.

"If this Jedi still lives, maybe there are more of them," he explained.

"Of course there are more! There are always more!"

"You know where they are located?" Vader was shocked to hear this, but pleasantly surprised. It had been so long since he had killed a real Jedi Knight and he longed for the challenge. Saber wielding battle droids had ceased to test his abilities years ago, but a real Jedi Knight could prove entertaining for quite some time.

"Of course! The Jedi Temple lies untouched on Coruscant behind the Republic's defenses, while more of them gather inside of the Dantooine enclave and the Ilum stronghold."

"Coruscant?" Vader repeated. "That isn't possible. I personally saw to the destruction of the temple twenty years ago."

"Twenty years ago?" Revan chuckled dryly at this. "You had best check you memory, friend. Twenty years ago, I was still a padawan there." A sudden notion struck Revan. "Wait," he said before Vader could reply. A sudden idea had struck him. He tapped the comm. device that was located on his ear and opened the channel to the engineering level. "Revan to engineering," he spoke quickly. "What's your status?"

"The new hyperdrive is overloaded, Sir," someone replied.

He cut the transmission. He didn't need anymore than that to deduce what had happened. Hundreds of questions had suddenly been answered within the course of a mere minute. He felt idiotic that it hadn't occurred to him earlier. The new hyperdrive technology that the Sith fleet had been equipped with had been produced aboard the Star Forge. They hadn't known what it was truly capable of, seeing as how they hadn't tried to make a super speeded jump into hyperspace before the Battle Over Coruscant.

The Rakatan technology hadn't just shifted them forward through space, but they had actually managed to rip a hole through time as well. "You've exterminated all of the Jedi?" Revan asked Vader with a new found respect.

"I thought I did," the Dark Lord replied. "But this one must have gotten away."

"No," he whispered. "She didn't. She isn't one the Jedi you would know. She is one of mine – one of the Jedi from my time."

Revan steeled himself to give Vader a long explanation. If Vader didn't believe him, this could end very badly.

Aboard the Death Star, an old Jedi Master had reunited with his companions, disturbed by the recent turn of events. Obi-Wan Kenobi, or Ben Kenobi as he called himself now, had left Luke Skywalker, Captain Han Solo, and the Wookiee Chewbacca alone with two droids with no expectation to return. Obi-Wan had planned to confront his former apprentice, Darth Vader, and it was quite likely that he would have been killed during the encounter. After deactivating the tractor beam that was holding Han Solo's ship, _the Millennium Falcon, _in place, Obi-Wan had sensed Darth Vader's departure.

Obi-Wan was more than concerned when he tried to follow Vader through the Force. The Dark Lord had traveled to meet a strange fleet that reeked of dark side pollution. With no delusions in his mind, Obi-Wan realized that such a fleet could end the rebellion in an instant. It took some time for the old Jedi to locate his companions, as they had gone off in search of Princess Leia, the woman who had sent him a distress call via an old R2 unit.

The group had been through quite an adventure, impersonating Stormtroopers and dropping into a garbage pit, but all in all, they were alright. The group stealthily returned to the hangar, where their ship should have been free from the effects of the tractor beam. What they saw upon their return did not please them. Darth Vader's personal shuttle had docked beside the _Millennium Falcon. _

Kenobi watched the scene unfold as Vader and another man exited the shuttle. The old Jedi's reaction was very similar to that of Bastila Shan aboard the _Spirit of Revenge. _The dark energy that the second man radiated in his Force signature was on equal terms with, if not bigger than, Darth Vader's. Luke, Han, Leia, and Chewbacca had looked down and saw the scene that Obi-Wan was observing, but none of them realized what was going on the way the old Jedi did.

"Ben?" Luke asked.

The Jedi Master didn't respond as he saw two prisoners being led out of the Imperial shuttle. His eyes narrowed when he felt the presence of the Force coming from one of them. The Force was strong within her, as it was with Luke, but it wasn't wild and untamed, which meant that this woman had received Jedi training at some point. At first he had thought her to be another Jedi to have survived the Dark Lord's purge, but when he looked at her closer he realized that it was impossible, as the brunette haired woman was very young. She was no older than twenty and Vader's sweep of the galaxy that had nearly wiped the galaxy from existence would have occurred when she was still an infant, which could only mean that there were more Jedi to have survived besides him and Master Yoda.

"We have to save those two," Obi-Wan stated.

"The hell we do!" Han Solo interjected.

"Of course we do!" Luke snapped back. "She's in trouble!"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "I'll distract them," he said as he stood up straight.

"Good plan," Han muttered still unconvinced. The old man walked off before he had a chance to make another argument though, leaving him in a very poor mood.

What Obi-Wan did not anticipate was that Carth Onasi had already formulated his own plan of escape. During the shuttle ride from Darth Revan's flagship to this massive super station, Revan and Vader had been so engrossed in their conversation that they had let their guard down, which had been a surprise, but at least it was a pleasant one. The binders that held Carth's hands together were defective and one of the cufflinks was open, meaning he had full use of his hands. He saw his blaster and Bastila's lightsaber and he knew that if they could just get their weapons, they had a chance of escaping. He wasn't sure where they would escape to, seeing as how they were four thousand years in the future, according to this Darth Vader person, but that wasn't foremost on his mind.

As they walked out of the shuttle, Carth managed to take his blaster pistol in hand, as well as the lightsaber. He could only assume that Vader had left it for the shuttle crew to collect when they swept the ship, but he wasn't too concerned with the Sith Lord's carelessness. It had been a very valuable asset to them so far and he hoped to exploit it further in the future. He looked forward and saw that a small unit of men in white armor that resembled the Neo-crusader armor that the Mandalorians wore was approaching. These must have been the Stormtroopers that Vader had referred to. As his elite force of troops, they were feared across the galaxy, or so the Dark Lord had boasted, but Carth was not interested in testing their battle prowess and decided instead to make a very hasty and loud escape.

"Bastila, heads up!" he called to her as he tossed the lightsaber to her.

Sensing the weapon approaching, she managed to catch it in her bound hands and ignited one end, slicing the bonds open. The two Sith Lords spun around and took in the situation. The Stormtroopers opened fire without hesitation. The Jedi and the Republic soldier dove for cover behind a large freighter that was also docked inside of the hangar. Several of the blaster shots struck the ship, blackening its outer hull.

"Son of a!" Han Solo screamed as they saw what the Stormtroopers were doing to his ship. He ran out into the midst of the fray, opening fire on the Imperial soldiers before Obi-Wan had a chance to draw their attention. Three of them fell instantly. Chewbacca quickly followed his friend and started firing his blaster rifle. The entire room was filled with blaster fire as Luke Skywalker and Princess Leia joined the fray, followed by Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Darth Vader and Darth Revan stayed out of the battle, watching with interest as two saber wielding foes overwhelmed the Imperial forces. Revan was not surprised that the Jedi had attempted an escape, but he had not expected another Jedi to aid her, along with the rabble that had followed. Vader was more astounded, recognizing the Jedi before him as his old teacher, Obi-Wan Kenobi, the man who had inflicted the life threatening injuries that had placed him in the cybernetic black armor that he was forced to live in for the rest of his life. He wanted desperately to join the battle, but knew that it would not be wise. He would have to cross between both the Jedi's allies' blaster fire and his own men in order to do so and he was certain he wouldn't be able to deflect shots from both sides. Ordering his men to cease fire would be suicide, so he was forced to wait out the conflict, hoping that none of the Stormtroopers would be successful and take his revenge away from him.

"Get onto the ship!" Luke cried out as he took out another Stormtrooper with his automatic blaster rifle.

Leia quickly complied, but Han and therefore Chewie only backed towards it slightly. Carth was rooted to the spot, unsure of who these strange allies were and not sure if he trusted them. Bastila was not having the same problem. The old man beside her was clearly a powerful Jedi Master and she felt she could trust him completely, but still she refused to back down before all of the non-Force users were aboard the ship.

"Go!" Obi-Wan ordered Han and Chewbacca.

"Chewie, let's go!" Han called as he turned on his heel and ran up the boarding ramp.

"Commander Onasi, follow them!" Bastila ordered.

Carth was annoyed that the Jedi had chosen to use his rank to give him an order, as all Jedi padawans held the rank of commander, meaning that they were even in terms of military status. Still, he knew that he had little choice in the matter so he did as he was told and was quickly followed by Luke. The two Jedi backed their way into the ship last and Han was able to take off. They shot out of the hangar, leaving one Sith Lord very frustrated and one somewhat amused.

"Is that how you deal with prisoners, Lord Vader?" Revan sneered with a dark snicker. Vader did not reply, leaving a smirk on Revan's face. He tapped the comm. link that was still hidden in his ear and opened up the channel between himself and Malak. "Dispatch a squadron of fighters to capture the freighter that is making its way towards you," he ordered. "I want them alive if possible, but don't let them escape."

"Yes Master," Malak responded.

Vader turned to his Stormtroopers, preparing to give a similar order for them to send for the pilots and get a squadron of TIE fighters into space, but Revan cut him off. "There is no need, Lord Vader. Though outdated, I think you'll find my ships adequate for the task."

"You are too confident, Lord Revan," Vader warned. "Your technology may have been first class four thousand years ago, but now they are worthless compared to the ships that are produced in the Imperial shipyards."

Revan smirked. "Suit yourself," he said with a shrug. The Dark Lord had omitted to tell his contemporary counterpart that the technology he was using had technically been twenty-five thousand years old when he had discovered it and it had still been more than a match for modern Republic forces. He doubted very much that anything had changed in a time as short as four thousand years. Still, he did not argue. He was curious to see how capable Vader's men and machines were.

Aboard the _Millennium Falcon, _Han Solo's scanner began to beep loudly, indicating an oncoming vessel. He looked at the radar and saw a squadron of unknown fighters approaching. "Kid, I want you to go down that hatch in the center of the main hallway. It leads down to the bottom gunner position. Try to take out as many of them as possible until I can make the jump to lightspeed!"

Luke quickly complied with his order. Carth, noting a second hatch in the roof, asked a question. "Is there a second gunner position I could occupy?" he asked.

"Through the roof," the captain confirmed, not having thought of putting his new passenger to work.

Carth followed Luke to the hallway and took the ladder that led up to the second gunner seat. He quickly pulled on the headset and set to work with the unfamiliar controls before him. Despite being four thousand year more sophisticated than anything he had ever worked with, the Republic pilot found the controls to be similar to the ones he had grown up with and mastered. He was not used to maneuvering his blaster with his entire body, rather than his hands though. The cannon seemed to be attached to the seat he was in, meaning that he had to swerve the chair around to turn his weapon. He would definitely need to adjust to that sort of control before becoming proficient in modern defenses.

Luke Skywalker, being somewhat more familiar with contemporary weaponry, though not too much more, was having a somewhat easier time. Most of his advantage probably came from his innate piloting skills and the fact that he was a very gifted Force sensitive also made things easier. He swung around in his seat and fired three shots at one of the Sith vessels. One shot missed completely, while on grazed the wing. The third shot struck the cockpit dead on and the craft exploded.

"TIE fighters coming in fast!" Han warned from the cockpit.

Carth could see the new ships coming in, which were moving much faster than the Sith ships that had already been chasing them. He groaned inwardly when he saw the speed with which they could travel. He had been having trouble enough with the Sith fighters, but these would be a major problem if he couldn't keep up with them.

"Shoot them!" Han called from the cockpit.

"I'm trying!" Carth called back.

Inside of the cockpit, Obi-Wan was growing restless. The _Falcon _was getting very close to the dark side fleet and he was beginning to get anxious. "How long before we can make the jump to lightspeed?" the Jedi Master asked.

"Another couple of seconds," the space pirate replied as he threw another switch. "The coordinates are set. Let's get out of here." The _Millennium Falcon _suddenly was engulfed by the blue tunnels of hyperspace, shooting forward and sending everyone on board sprawling from their seats.

Aboard the Death Star, Darth Revan was slightly amused by the tantrum that Darth Vader was throwing in the hangar of the space station. The Dark Lord had ordered him to call off his own fighters so that the Imperial TIEs could take over, which had probably allowed the prisoners to escape. The former Jedi General shook his head as objects began to fly through the air. He could see now that Darth Vader was not the powerful and controlling Sith Lord that he had anticipated, meaning that there was no real reason to ally himself with the Empire if this was the supreme commander of its military. Despite the fact that Vader wasn't as smart as Revan, at least in the Dark Lord's own eyes, he was powerful enough to challenge him in head to head combat. He might make a fair apprentice someday, but not now. For now, he wanted Vader to revel in his failures.

"Lord Vader," he yelled firmly enough to overpower the raging Sith Lord's fury. Still fuming, Vader turned to look at his guest. "I'm returning to my fleet."

"What?" the black armored warrior shouted.

"I need to pursue that Jedi myself. I will send word to this station when I find the old man."

"You cannot leave, Lord Revan!" Vader stated.

"I am not your prisoner, Lord Vader," Revan answered evenly.

The modern Sith Lord stepped forward threateningly, but his ancient predecessor easily side stepped the move. The move had been foolish, dictated by rage and it told Revan quite a bit about the former Jedi Knight's physical condition, which did not appear to be very stellar. Darth Vader moved with the same slow and mechanical steps that a droid did, indicating that both of his arms and legs were machines. One of the things that the four thousand year old Sith Lord had liked about the current one was that he hid himself behind the black armored suit that he wore. Now he realized that the suit was a portable life support system that he had to wear in order to survive. He was weak.

Revan quickly used the Force to hurl a small oxygen canister at Darth Vader. It struck him in the back, sending him sprawling on the floor. Revan didn't bother to finish his foe. To his merit, Vader did have the same beliefs about the Jedi Order and the need to exterminate all of its members. If his claims about his purge of the Jedi were true, than Vader had killed thousands of Jedi on his own, which had earned him some respect. He could prove quite useful in the future, especially if Revan could use the Star Forge's medical technology to restore his biological limbs to him, stripping him of his mechanical weaknesses.

Darth Revan began walking up the steps of the Imperial shuttle and used the Force seal himself in. He sat down in the pilot's seat and began to work the unfamiliar controls. He felt the craft begin to hover beneath his feet and he knew that he had been successful in his escape. The shuttle shot forward, out of the hangar in a fashion similar to the _Millennium Falcon, _which left Darth Vader in an even fouler mood than before. Revan could sense the rage that had just exploded from Vader. It would have been overwhelming if he had not been exposed to such outbursts from Mandalorians that had been captured during the wars and his own men who had lost themselves within the dark side and let it consume their minds. Anger was power, but it could blind the user, making it possible to exploit at a later time if the need ever arose to face the Sith Lord in the future.

Turning his mind away from the Imperial station and its occupants, Revan began to devise a plan of action. The Republic had fallen nearly twenty years ago and the Jedi had fallen with it. His dream of a galaxy without Jedi was finally a reality, though he had not anticipated it taking so long to accomplish. Had he continued to direct the Sith war effort in his own time, they would have fallen millennia ago. Still, there were at least two Jedi left to be dealt with. Bastila Shan and the old Jedi Master who had aided her aboard the Death Star could still conceivably rebuild the order if they were given the time, which he would not allow, given how hard he had worked and how much he had sacrificed in the name of their demise.

First he needed to establish a foundation in this time. His fleet was all that he had left, which would prove useful, but cumbersome at the same time. A fleet required resources, such as food for the men and women and fuel for the ships, which also needed routine maintenance. Also, he no longer had an advantage in terms of knowledge of the playing field. In his time, Revan had spent months studying the political and military structure and condition of every planet in the Republic, which would prove useless four thousand years into the future. He wondered if any of his strongholds still remained on secret planets, such as Korriban and Rakata Prime.

He would direct his fleet to the Rakatan system and try to recover the Star Forge, if possible. If the ancient super structure still existed, which he was quite sure it did, he would be on even terms with the empire's Death Star. If it didn't exist, Revan was sure that the Star Forge manufactured ships in his fleet would be able to breach the outer plating of the Death Star, despite Darth Vader's remarks about an invincible weapon. His conquest of the Republic would have to begin a second time, but he was confident. Tracking down two Jedi and overthrowing an Empire wouldn't be too difficult. He was a child of the Force, one of its chosen. Darth Vader and his emperor couldn't stand against that.


	3. Changes

**The Darkest Lord  
Chapter III: Changes of Time**

A small distortion resembling a mirage began to ripple through space, indicating an emergence from hyperspace. Three Sith Interdictor Dreadnaughts sailed into the black of space, accompanied by their six complements of Sith fighters. These three ships, _the Tormentor, the Sphinx, _and_ the Nightbringer _were under the command of Dark Malak, apprentice of the Dark Lord of the Sith, Revan and second in command of the entire Sith Empire, which now consisted of a single fleet. The Sith Lord stood aboard the bridge of _the Tormentor, _looking through the viewport in silent thought. His golden yellow eyes were glazed, indicating that he was lost in his own mind and not on the current situation.

"Sir," his intelligence officer called to him.

Malak's bald head snapped up and he cast a weary glance at the man who had called to him. He strode over to the console where the Sith officer was seated and nodded at him in acknowledgement. The man, dressed in a gray uniform which was not decorated in the least bit, seemed somewhat unsure of himself as he reported to the Sith Lord, which was apparent immediately. The former Jedi rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"What is the situation, Corporal?" he demanded.

"Sir, three unknown star fighters approaching," a braver officer reported.

"Excellent," the Dark Lord commented as he turned away. "Lt. Karath, activate the tractor beam. Revan will want to study their ships and weaponry.

"Yes Lord Malak," the former Republic soldier replied as he began to key in the tractor beam's command sequence in his computer.

The three TIE fighters soon felt something pulling against their ship, which made all three of the pilots blink. Their scanners soon alerted them to the presence of the Sith dreadnaughts, but it was too late. They were already being pulled towards the _Tormentor's _hangar by an unseen force. The squad leader began diverting all unnecessary systems' power to his craft's reverse thrusters, but it was no use. The Sith had captured them.

A battalion of Sith troops were waiting in the hangar for the three ships. Over an intercom from the shielded room behind the hangar, orders were given to the captured pilots. "Eject from your ships or we will use lethal force," the Sith officer inside warned.

The pilots had no choice. Their unsealed their cockpits and jumped down from their ships. Each one's hand went for his sidearm, but the golden armored troops stepped forward, raising their blaster rifles threateningly. "Drop them!" the single red armored Sith commander ordered. "It'll do you no good to get yourselves killed."

The three pilots looked at each other and nodded. With a sigh of defeat, they tossed their weapons and kicked them aside, putting their hands into the air to indicate surrender. The commander, blaster still trained on his prisoners, nodded at a nearby soldier. The woman returned her blaster rifle to the harness that was strapped to her back and drew the smaller blaster pistol that was on her belt. She stepped forward cautiously and recovered the three pilot's weapons. Once she had moved away, the commander and two higher ranking soldiers holstered their weapons and moved towards the three prisoners.

"You are now prisoners of the Sith Empire," the commander informed them as he cuffed one of the pilots. "You will be held for questioning and your ships and weapons now belong to us. Should your leaders negotiate for your return, you will be ransomed fairly and turned over unharmed." He turned to his men. "Escort them to the detention block."

His men saluted him before proceeding with their orders. The black suited pilots were escorted from the room and the commander turned to inspect the three ships. He was not a flyer or a mechanic, so he could say very little about the ships except that they were smaller than most of the star fighters he had seen. Shrugging, he turned to the woman who had collected the three blasters from the pilots. "Take those to the lab for analysis," he ordered.

"Yes sir," she responded as she snapped off a salute before leaving.

The red armored commander activated his comm. link to the bridge and waited for the transmission to be accepted. A moment later, the channel opened and Lt. Karath's voice came over the comm. "What's your status, Commander?"

"Mission success," he replied. "The pilots have been captured and their ships and weapons have been taken."

"Very good, Sir. I will report to the Dark Lord immediately."

Aboard the bridge of the ship, Malak had heard every word of the report and was satisfied with what had been said. "I am going to the lab to oversee the weapons analysis," he stated. "Admiral Sentai, the bridge is yours." Pearl Sentai nodded. The Sith apprentice turned on his heel and strode out of the bridge, his mind wandering as he navigated the corridors until he came to the elevator. He stepped inside and punched in the key for the third floor, which lit up at his touch.

The door slid shut and he felt the elevator moving downwards around him, but he was too deep in thought to care. His mission from Revan had been a simple one, but it was not going well. He had been ordered to hunt down the Jedi that had escaped from Darth Vader aboard the Death Star and kill them both, along with their companions, but he had discovered significant problems along the way. The smuggling freighter that they were using was significantly faster than the Sith Interdictor ships and star fighters, which made it difficult to track them at all. Even at maximum speed, which would have outrun any Republic ship in the galaxy in Malak's own time, was at least two lightyears slower than the Jedi's ship.

If he wasn't able to track that ship and kill its occupants, Revan would have his head for sure. The Sith apprentice tapped the steel plate that covered the lower portion of his face; a constant reminder that he was never to fail his master again. The door opened and he stepped out of the elevator, continuing to think. Why had the Force brought them to this miserable point in time where their mission was not so clear? Their only objective had been to destroy the Jedi Order, but the Jedi were gone now. What did Revan plan on doing now that the Jedi were out of the picture? His plan for conquering the Empire was genius, but what was the point. The galaxy was united under one rule, like he had always wanted, but the Dark Lord of the Sith was still not content? Was it greed that fueling him now? Did he fight because he wanted to be in control of the galaxy instead of this emperor that Darth Vader served?

Despite his doubts, Malak would not and could not betray Revan at this point. His friend had guided him for years and he owed him a certain amount of loyalty, in spite of the ghastly injury that he had sustained. Challenging his master would be foolish, for Revan was far more powerful and it would be suicide to try to overthrow him. A change in command now would also have effects on the crew, who might rebel given the terrible circumstances they were in. All he could do was follow orders and hope for the best.

This was why he was planning on sending Revan the schematics for the weapons and ships he had collected from the Imperial pilots. More information on their enemies could only be valuable at the moment and since his master was en route for the Star Forge, he doubted that the _Spirit of Revenge _had already come across any Imperial forces.

He reached the lab and briskly walked over to where Prof. Aurnon was testing the blasters that had been collected. One was sitting fully intact on a work bench, while another one had already been disassembled for study beside it. The third one appeared to be missing. The Twi'lek professor had not stopped his work on account of the Dark Lord's presence, but continued to study the weapon with interest.

"What have you found, Professor?" Malak asked.

The head of weapons aboard _the Tormentor_ held up a small squad device, which Malak recognized as a power pack. "Significantly smaller than our own," he commented as he took it into his hand and inspected it closely.

"But far more powerful. One of our power packs would die out after firing approximately one hundred standard shots, no special modifications included, but one of these can last for closer to four hundred, if my calculations are correct."

"Can you replicate them?" Malak asked.

"Of course," the scientist snapped indignantly. "But I think you'd be far more interested in the blaster itself." He took the power cell from the Sith Lord and replaced it on the table, swapping it out for the assembled weapon instead. He held the blaster up for the bald Sith, wondering if he would notice anything. It became apparent that he didn't and the professor hastened to explain. "This," he said indicating the rather large chamber for the weapon. "is used to hold a charge when firing. It consumes approximately four shots to use, but…" He led the Dark Lord over to a testing console where he could fire weapons at specific targets. He keyed in a small code and a manikin dressed in golden Sith armor was installed from a secret panel in the floor. The weapons specialist activated the charge on the blaster and it began to vibrate steadily in his hand. He raised the weapon and his finger gently squeezed the trigger. A large ball of energy shot out of the blaster's barrel and struck the Sith armor in the visor. The shot burned through the metal alloy that the armor was comprised of and left a scorch mark in the manikin's head.

"Impressive," Malak commented.

"The trigger is rather sensitive though. I suggest constructing a hybrid between our models and theirs for best results."

"Your opinion is noted, Professor," he replied. "How long will it take you to construct a prototype?"

"If I were to begin now, seven hours," he answered.

"Then I think you had best get started."

"Yes sir," he replied with a salute.

"Inform me if anything else of interest should arise. I want a prototype in seven hours."

"Follow that ship, Captain," Darth Vader ordered as he gazed out of the viewport of his personal Star Destroyer, _the Chimaera, _spotting the freighter that had escaped from the Death Star flying towards the moon of Nar Shaddaa, hoping to make an escape there, but the Dark Lord would not allow it. He turned to the captain, Gilad Pellaeon, and nodded his helmed head, indicating that the ship was allowed to fire on the _Millennium Falcon. _Pellaeon nodded and turned to his weapons officer.

"You may fire when ready," he stated to the middle aged Chiss.

The blue skinned humanoid snickered as he instructed the computers to aid one of the barbette turbolasers at the small ship. "Firing in three…two…one."

A burst of superheated plasma shot out of the cannon that was located at the base of the Imperial II-class Star Destroyer. The fiery colored beam ripped through space, heading right for the freighter, which managed to swerve behind a nearby asteroid. The blast struck the floating rock and tore it to sunders, but the _Falcon _was unharmed. Vader frowned, suddenly wishing that the men who ran the Fondor shipyards would hurry up and complete the Super Star Destroyer that was being built for him. A single blast from the soon to be finished _Executor _would have engulfed the asteroid and proceeded to overtake the _Falcon_, but he would have to make use of the less sophisticated second class Star Destroyer.

In truth, an Imperial II-class Star Destroyer was one of the most advanced ships in the Imperial fleet, but Vader was not satisfied simply because it could not accomplish what he wanted to be accomplished. While the Death Star held the power to wipe a planet from the face of the galaxy, the _Chimaera _probably had enough fire power to extinguish all sentient life from one, which ultimately achieved the same goal in the end. Still, the Dark Lord could not be satisfied with what he had. He wanted a ship of his own that rivaled the Emperor's space station in terms of fire power, giving him a supreme grip on the galaxy which would one day allow him to overthrow his master. In the mean time, he would have to make do with what he had.

"Increase speed, Captain," Vader ordered as he folded his arms. "I want that ship."

Pellaeon quickly gave the orders to comply with the Dark Lord's command and the sound of groaning metal could be heard as the ship lurched forward with a burst of speed. The _Millennium Falcon _was still too fast though, gaining distance between the two ships as the seconds ticked by. Vader tightened his fists and gave the order to fire again. The result was similar. The pilot of that ship was able to barrel roll out of the way safely, taking no damage to the ship in the process.

"Send in the TIE fighters."

"Damn, TIE fighters," Han swore as he saw the incoming crafts coming towards the _Millennium Falcon _on the ship's radar. "Luke, Carth, get back to the guns."

They both nodded and made their way back towards the gunner seats, while Han tried to maneuver the ship around the small vessels blaster fire. Bastila reached out into the Force, seeing two separate groups of four TIE fighters approaching the ship. None of the pilots were Force sensitive, which would give her an advantage against their minds when she tried to invade.

Leaning against the co-pilot's chair for support, the Jedi padawan closed her eyes and began to focus on the eight pilots minds. She could sense the resolve inside of them and she began to rip it away using her power of Battle Meditation. The speed of the TIE fighters began to decline and their performance became sluggish. Han saw the ships formation break slightly.

What surprised Han was that these fighters had come from an Imperial II-class Star Destroyer, which usually indicated that the pilots had worked their way up in the ranks before being stationed on Darth Vader's personal ship. These TIEs were acting as if they were still in the academy, which would make their escape simple, but also concerned him. What if the Imperials were playing some sort of trick on them to lure them into a false sense of security?

Obi-Wan directed his attention away from the duel towards Bastila as he sensed the strange Force energy that her aura was radiating. Looking at her through the Force, the normally blue aura was filled with strange sparkles that were a beauty to behold, but held great power within their insignificant appearance. He had seen a similar aura on a few occasions from Jedi Master Yoda and a few of the other Jedi Masters. Bastila had delved into the Force and was using Battle Meditation to strip the Imperials of their willpower, making them less formidable pursuers.

Battle Meditation was a rare gift, but it had become more common since the days of the Old Sith Wars. He was surprised that someone from that time period had arrived with the training to wield such a gift. Considering it to be a gift from the Force, the Jedi Master turned his attention back to the viewport, where two TIE fighters could be seen flying on a crash course with the _Falcon. _They were soon vaporized by two well placed shots from Luke and Carth, sparing the ship any damage.

"How long till we jump to hyperspace?" Leia asked.

"Another couple minutes," Han answered.

"Can't this thing go any faster?" she demanded angrily.

"I'm trying!" he snapped back.

Similar to what Darth Revan experienced aboard the _Spirit of Revenge, _Darth Vader could feel a strange presence in the back of his mind, attacking his will power like a termite feasting on the trees of Kashyyyk. He closed his shielded eyes and left his body in the physical world, venturing into the depths of his own mind. Once inside, it took him very little time for him to locate the woman who had escaped from Darth Revan aboard the Death Star.

However, he chose not to close his mind off to her as Revan had done, but instead he chose to make her a prisoner inside of it. He reached out with the Force, grabbing her presence and solidifying it inside of him. She gasped when she realized that she had been found and quickly looked up at the Sith Lord. There was fear in her eyes and in her aura, but she held fast before him, refusing to budge from her place. The blackness that surrounded them threatened to engulf her if she moved even a muscle, so she stayed put, giving the Dark Lord no ground whatsoever. Vader, accustomed to the darkness of his mind, moved towards her with slow imposing steps, which only increased the fear she felt.

The two did not have corporeal bodies, so there would be no contest to determine who was more skilled with a lightsaber. This would be a conflict of wills, which Darth Vader felt more than prepared for. He wanted to study this Jedi before he shredded her mind, making her body little more than a shell aboard the _Millennium Falcon. _He wanted to toy with her and see how he could hurt her before he ended her miserable life. He reached out with his arm and grabbed the manifestation of her thoughts within his mind by the throat, tightening his grip so that he sealed off her airway.

Aboard the _Falcon, _Bastila's body was reacting to the feelings within her mind. Her body felt the cold grasp of Darth Vader's had around her neck and she had collapsed to the ground, unable to breath. Obi-Wan and Leia had rushed to her side, but only the old Jedi Master realized what had happened. His former apprentice had caught the intruder within his mind and was now fighting to make her pay. From this distance, there was nothing he could do, as Obi-Wan did not have the training to invade the mind from far away.

Inside of Vader's mind, Bastila was dieing. The Sith Lord's strength of will was crushing the physical essence of her mind that was inside of his. She was putting up a noble fight, but in the end, it was impossible to overpower him within his own thoughts and feelings. The abyss threatened to close in on her and she could sense the dark power inside of it. There was uncontrolled rage hidden in the black corners of his mind, along with incredible sorrow, which she had not expected to feel. Deciding that it was worth looking into to find a weakness to exploit, Bastila threw all of her willpower into a wave of Force energy. The wave did more than she expected. Vader was thrown back, but so was the veil of darkness. For the briefest moment, several faces became visible to her, before the empty blackness retook its position. There had been a dark haired woman with the face of an angel, dressed in a thin blue dress with a strange pendant around her neck. There was also a man who looked very similar to Obi-Wan Kenobi, but much younger and there was less sorrow in his eyes. A dieing woman had also appeared in the arms of a young man who had been dressed in Jedi robes. The man had been weeping as she prepared to become one with the Force, but the woman had a strange sense of contentment in her eyes.

Vader's rage seemed to increase when he realized that she had glimpsed into his private memories and he began storming towards her, ready for the kill. He no longer cared about hurting her. He just wanted her to die and to be out of his mind. As he approached, Bastila considered her options. She had to do something and waiting for him to come kill her wasn't it. She dove into the empty abyss that surrounded them, terrified of what she might find, yet curious all the same.

Darth Revan could not believe that it had been four thousand years since he last set foot aboard the Star Forge, an ancient factory that had fueled the conquest of the Infinite Empire for centuries before they collapsed at the mercy of a disease that had been bioengineered by one of the more sophisticated slave worlds that they had once controlled. The disease acted as a viral infection, attacking the midichlorians in their cells, killing their connection to the Force and making their advanced Force-machine hybrid technology worthless. While their species weakened, their technology grew stronger as the Force gave it a mind of its own. The Star Forge in particular became one of the most powerful monsters created during their reign. As the millennia went on, the computers that had logged the dark purposes it had been used for began to draw on the dark side of the Force, which allowed for more destructive power than the neutral powers it had been using. After nearly thirty five thousand years, the Star Forge had gone from a mere factory to a living creature that wielded more dark side power than any Dark Jedi or Sith ever had.

Controlling the beast inside of the Star Forge had been difficult for Revan at first. The artificial intelligence inside of its computers that acted as its mind was literally a Force-adept with more power than he had, but it was still just a computer. It had no desire to conquer worlds or begin its own empire. It recognized its place as a tool for another to wield, but numerous calculations and test had to be done before it would accept the Dark Lord as its owner. The AI had been more than surprised when Revan had not only passed its tests, but managed to level an entire deck of the factory with his raw Force talent. He hadn't used bombs or weapons of mass destruction, but his own powers. The Forge had been impressed.

Now Revan stood aboard the Star Forge, along with the only other Sith Lord whom he trusted, aside from Malak. She was shorter than him, standing at approximately five feet and six inches, while he dwarfed her with the imposing six feet and four inches that his armor allowed him to reach. She wore simple robes of elegant black fabric and she kept her hood up to cover the obsidian colored eyes that had long since lost their ability to see. Two gray braids came from within her hood and the lower half of her face was visible, but the unholy eyes that struck terror into those she met were shielded. Her sagging skin was the color of ash, while her lips had been painted black. Her name was Darth Traya, formerly known as the Jedi Master and Historian of the Jedi Archives, Kreia.

Traya had been Revan's Jedi Master when she had been in her prime and had been proud when he defied the council and led the war against the invading Mandalorians. Once Revan departed for unknown space, the Jedi Council had come to arrest her, stating that she needed to pay for her crimes against the order. They had believed that it had been her unique teachings that had led her student towards the dark side of the Force. Despite her age, the Jedi had been unable to apprehend her and she escaped, departing for the unknown regions to find her lost apprentice. By the will of the Force, she encountered him on Korriban while he had been searching for the ancient relics that would lead him to the Star Forge. Near death and half insane, she made her way to the Tomb of Naga Sadow, which had become the center of darkness on the graveyard world. It was unknown to the rest of the galaxy that that had been the place where she had fallen from the light and became a Dark Jedi. She fell prostrate before the Star Map and lost all feelings, falling into a quiet meditation. For days, maybe weeks, her body sustained itself with the powers of the Star Map, healing her injuries, which she had received while fending off the dark hississ dragons which roamed the valley.

Her meditation was broken when she was discovered by Revan and Malak, who had sworn themselves to the Sith Order and pledged to destroy the Jedi Knights across the galaxy, either by death or conversion. Having neither liked, nor respected Kreia, the bald Jedi had recommended that they kill her, but Revan's loyalty to his old master had been far too strong. He told her of his discoveries in the unknown regions and offered to save her if she would join him, which she had agreed to instantly. Her son had found her and they had been reunited at last.

Once they had left Korriban, Revan halted his search for the Star Forge so that he could take Kreia with him to Malachor V, where he had discovered the ancient academy of darkness, which was called "Trayus." There she learned that her student had spent months translating the Sith language into Basic so that he could study their ancient ways, hoping it could be used to destroy them. Kreia became obsessed with the Sith teachings, which seemed to be the shining hope in her despair. It was everything the Jedi Order stood against, which meant that it was what she must stand for. After submersing herself fully into the Sith ways, she fashioned herself a new name: Traya.

Later, when Revan discovered that there never had been a threat beyond the Mandalorians during the war, she was overcome by rage in a fashion similar to her apprentice. The Jedi had withheld her during the war, refusing to let her help the one who was most dear to her for nothing. He had almost died and had given most of his sanity for nothing. With the rage of a mother who had lost a child, she joined Darth Revan's crusade to wage war on the Jedi Order until it was no more.

Darth Traya stepped towards an ancient the viewport of the Star Forge's viewing platform, looking out at the fleet that had followed Revan into the future. She looked up at her apprentice and master, venturing a question. "What do you plan to do with this monstrosity now that it is yours again?"

The red and black armor clad Sith Lord did not answer for a moment. Instead, he threw back the black hood of his cloak and pulled the faceless mask her wore away from his face, revealing his visage to the woman who had been like a mother to him for so long. It was a grand gesture coming from him, which few ever received. He was showing his true face to her, the one that was human, weak, and capable of dieing. Most only ever saw the face of Darth Revan, who signified power and conquest that would never end. Traya and Malak were the only two who were ever allowed to see what he actually looked like and both knew that it was a sign of trust and respect.

Revan's face was pale, as one might expect for someone who hides his face from nearly all natural light. Lack of sun and the taint of the dark side of the Force had caused his skin to resemble a slab of marble. He kept his face clean shaven and tidy, feeling that to abandon such practices as hygiene would be to abandon his humanity and truly become an animal. His chocolate colored hair was pulled back in a long ponytail, which ended around his shoulders. There was one noticeable scar on his left eyebrow, where Mandalore the Ultimate had managed to knick him during their duel. Aside from that, his face had never had to bear any of the scars that years of combat and war had inflicted upon him.

"The plan has never changed, Traya," he told her as he folded his arms. "According to the holonet, this galaxy is filled with just as much corruption as it was four thousand years ago."

"If four thousand years have changed nothing, do you truly believe you can unite this galaxy under the banner of peace?" she asked him.

"If it weren't for that idiot Alzo's dieing mistake, I would have seen to it that there was peace in the galaxy in our time. No one has ever tried what I am doing and I doubt anyone ever will. I alone can save this galaxy from itself."

"You believe that you can bring balance to the Force through war, Revan?"

He recited an old line that he had told his men for years in order to justify the actions that they took against the rest of the galaxy. "There is no peace without a war." Traya smiled grimly at this and nodded.

"So how do you plan to overthrow the Empire?" she inquired.

"The Star Forge was going to be my tool to destroy the Jedi. Now it will be my tool to destroy this Galactic Empire." He paused to draw a long breath. "I never wanted to destroy the Republic, but I believed it would be necessary to destroy the Jedi. Now that the Jedi are gone, both of my dreams can be realized. The Empire will be overthrown and I'll restore the Republic in the form of an alliance between the systems of planets. My Sith will govern worlds that had once been ours, such as Korriban and Rakata, but we won't seek to expand into another empire. That will no longer be necessary."

Traya was silent as she considered the matter. She sighed, knowing that it would not be as simple as Revan made it sound. She was an old woman who had relied on the Force her entire life and she had never had much of a problem with that, but she knew that there was more to war than using the Force. Machines, ships, and weapons were all important factors, as well as numbers and territory. The Galactic Empire seemed to have the advantage in terms of all of those, meaning that Revan was outclassed in every way. Their fleet would be able to make a stand and probably destroy the Death Star, but one fleet could not liberate thousands of worlds and trillions of civilians. It just wasn't possible.

"I know what you're thinking," he told her. "It won't be impossible."

"What will you do?" she asked.

"We'll take the outer rim first. We'll start by invading worlds that are rebellious towards the Empire and liberate them. They'll swarm to our cause and boost our man power and with each world we conquer, we'll gain samples of their more advanced technology. From there, the Star Forge will be able to create fleets of modified hybrids that combine the strength of our technology with their own." She nodded, admitting that the plan was a good one. "We'll form the Galactic Alliance with the worlds that we liberate. Worlds that will not join us will burn. Once the war is over, I'll withdraw as emperor and let the Alliance set up their own democratic system."

"Do you believe that they'll actually set up a democracy or vie for power?"

"They'll do what I tell them," he replied.

"I hope you're right."

"I am," he assured her. "But first, we need to get the Star Forge operational again. I'm sure you've sensed the dark presence here."

"Indeed," she answered. "I wasn't sure if you had noticed."

"She's here," he stated as he turned his full attention to the viewing platform. "Trapped by the Star Forge." His voice contained a hint of sorrow, which his old master quickly picked up on, causing her to smirk.

"I did not realize you still had feelings for her," she stated.

Revan refitted his mask to his face and buckled the straps at the back of his head. His mechanically filtered voice answered his master's statement, but it was still clear that there was an icy chill to his tone. "I don't."


	4. Forgotten

**The Darkest Lord  
Chapter IV: Ignored Darkness**

The words of his former master had stuck with him as Darth Revan stepped into the Star Forge's command center, where the disturbance in the Force that he felt was the strongest. He had not allowed his men to come aboard the ship yet for fear that they would anger the spirit that was inside of the ancient superstructure, yet a deeper part of him knew that there was more to it than that. He needed to deal with the situation carefully and so he sent Traya back to _the Spirit of Revenge _with the idea that he could take care of it himself in mind. Once he was alone on the eons old space station, he delved into the Force to find the spirit, which took very little time. The agony that her essence screamed into space was overwhelming. It rang in his ears like a lamenting song that sent chills down the spines of those who heard it. Surprisingly, the sheer power of this one spirit rivaled the agony that the Lord of the Sith had felt when he had first arrived in this time in the Alderaan system.

He had once known the woman that had become this terrible apparition that was now unable to become one with the Force. As children they had studied together on Coruscant until her Jedi Master was reassigned to Dantooin, beginning what would be three long years of separation from one another. If his memory served him properly, she had been fourteen at the time of her departure and he had been fifteen at the time. At the outbreak of the Mandalorian Wars, Malak went to Dantooine to recruit as many Jedi Knights that would listen to his plea for help against the ruthless invaders, Revan led those that had followed him from Coruscant to Naboo. Malak's company of Jedi met with them there and the two factions joined forces with Revan as the leader. The Dark Lord had been pleasantly surprised to find that the girl he had known as a child had chosen to follow him, having never lost her faith or trust in his instincts.

In the three years that had passed since their separation, she had developed into a beautiful woman and a talented Jedi Knight. He remembered speaking with her after he had briefed the Jedi on what would occur during their first battle with the Neo-crusaders. It was like she was a different person all together, though he could still pick out traces of the young girl he had once known. When he had known her, she had been clumsy and awkward, generally causing other Jedi to shun her. Her skills with a blade had been mediocre at best. The Force had been strong with her, despite the fact that she had little control over the power that raged inside of her like a storm on the surface of the planet Hoth. That had all changed. He, an experienced swordsman, he been awed by her form with a lightsaber. It was clear that she had been trained to duel using the perseverance form but she had added her own flair to it, making it even deadlier and more beautiful to behold. Her moves in combat with the other Jedi seemed almost choreographed, which he had known to be impossible. Furthermore, the rash and overemotional little girl he had known had been replaced by a controlling and calm minded individual that had a mastery of the Force that surprised even Revan. Her talents rivaled those of some of the Jedi Masters that he knew and it angered him to know that they had been holding her back. Still, that had been all over. They were probably never going to be able to rejoin the Jedi ever again and it would have been foolish to dwell on such thoughts. Instead, they had turned their focus to the battle that was awaiting them, both eager to test their skills against the Mandalorians and both confident that the Jedi would tear through the invader's forces with little effort.

In truth, neither of them had been prepared for what they had walked into on the metropolitan world of Taris. They had both seen the true heart of evil that day and had come away scarred. The Jedi had always sheltered their students from the darkness in the galaxy and Taris was probably the darkest place either of them had ever visited. The local crime lords had joined forces with the Neo-crusaders in an attempt to bring the urban world under their control. The lower and undercities had both been alive with slave trade and spice exchange. Most of the nobles who had lived in the upper city had been captured and were being sold, while the aliens that were persecuted on that world were being hounded like vermin and being auctioned off to the highest bidder. Revan clearly remembered the look of pure horror in the eyes of a small Cathar girl that had been won by the leader of a swoop gang. She had been with him for nearly a week before the Jedi and Republic forces had arrived on the planet and there was no doubt in Revan's mind that her owner had molested her more than once. It had sickened him to see the man laugh when he had thrown the girl up as a shield to protect him from oncoming blaster fire. The Cathar girl, Juhani, had been struck in the back and was rendered unconscious. Despite his desire to make sure that she was alright, the Jedi had been called to the next battle and he had been forced to leave her in the care of local medics. He had never found out whether she had lived or not.

While en route towards their next destination, Revan had gone to his old friend's quarters aboard the Republic warship that they were using as a transport. If she had felt anything similar to what he had felt during the battles, he wanted to make sure that she was alright. What he had found had not surprised him but it had tugged at his heart for weeks to come. She had been broken by the events of the past few days. The young woman had felt conflicted about her decision to defy the council. Her choice to leave had been for the sake of saving lives, not taking them. At the time of Malak's speech that had swayed her to his cause, she had truly believed that she was living the life of a true Jedi by going to war. The first battles had made her reconsider. She didn't feel like a Jedi Knight anymore. She had felt like a disgrace. She had torn the Jedi robes that she had worn for so many years from her own body in shame, casting them away in shame. He remembered how she simply trembled in the corner of her room, muttering about how she was dirty and wrong.

Killing was not something that the Jedi had condoned under any circumstances and her battle with the Mandalorians had shaken her to her very core. Life had been extinguished by her hands and it had left its mark. Sobs wracked her body and caused her shake even more. It wasn't until Revan had taken a seat beside her and put his arms around her that she felt at ease. It was in that moment that the Force had begun to flow freely between the two of them, linking their minds. The presence of each other's spirits was all that calmed them after the battle and they took solace in one another. A passion had ignited between them that night. They torridly took comfort in each others arms, temporarily forgetting the horrors they had seen in the days that had passed.

The next day, the transport arrived at Dxun. Revan took command of the Republic forces there while she led the Jedi ground forces. Hundreds of Jedi died and thousands of Mandalorians gave their lives to stop the new threat. It was one of the bloodiest battles of the entire war. Although she had accepted her actions as necessary, the young Jedi came away from Dxun more unsure of herself than before. Her decision to leave the Jedi plagued her mind constantly and the only reassurance she had was the intimate time that she spent with Revan. Each time she took a life, the Jedi Knight questioned her choice and he was always there to assure her that they were doing the right thing. In turn, she provided similar comfort and relief that he needed to recover from the horrors he faced during the long days of bloodshed. As the leader of the Jedi forces, every life that was taken by any Jedi fell on his shoulders.

As the war continued, their relationship became stronger. It developed from one of necessity to one that some would call love. As the years went by, they became attached to each other and when Revan became supreme commander of the Republic Navy, he chose her to become his general instead of Malak. It had been unwise for many reasons. The Dark Lord's relationship with his bald friend had never been the same since the day of her promotion. Malak had felt betrayed by the man that he had called his best friend. The future Sith apprentice had called the woman who had taken his position a harlot and a thief. It wasn't until later he realized that the choice had saved his life. She had been forced to serve as the field general during the Battle of Malachor V and she had been the one to order the activation of the Mass Shadow Generator, which had crushed the planet and decimated its surface with its own gravity. According to initial reports, no one had survived the catastrophe that had wiped out a the planet and scarred the galaxy. It wasn't until after Revan had already left known space that he learned that she was in fact still alive, though she had been stripped of the Force by the Jedi Council and exiled from their ranks.

Learning this had fueled his rage towards the Jedi Council at the time, coaxing him to make the decision to attack their order. Before he launched his campaign against the Jedi Order, Revan had attempted to find her. He had contacted all of his old friends that he had made during the war, hoping that one of them would be able to locate her and bring her back to him, but the Jedi had already released her and she had gone into a self-imposed isolation in the unknown regions of space. Believing the situation to be hopeless, Revan turned his attention back to his campaign against the Jedi. They had been responsible for every single life that the Mandalorians had extinguished after they chose to stay out of the war. He had discovered no significant threat outside of the Republic's borders, meaning that their mistake had cost the galaxy billions. In addition, they had forsaken one of the few Jedi that had tried to preserve their name and cast her out, but not before taking the Force from her. The corruption in the order that had never seemed to exist when he had been a child was now more apparent than mutations in a rancor. He hated the Jedi and everything that they had become. It was this hatred that led him to rename himself and those who followed him as Sith and to christen himself Darth Revan. As the days drifted into weeks and the weeks drifted into years, the new Lord of the Sith pushed the woman he had once loved out of his mind, turning his attention fully to the destruction of the Jedi instead. It had been quite literally years since he had even thought about her and it shocked when he realized that her presence aboard the Star Forge was having such an effect on him.

As he entered the command center, he could see her ghostly apparition before him, screaming her agony into the Force. Even in death, she was beautiful but she wasn't as he remembered her. Her face was wearier and her eyes were filled with hate, rage, pain, and sorrow. Her lithe body was clad only in simple black robes. A utility belt hung from her waist and the image of a lightsaber was clipped to it, though it had been nearly four millennia since she had used the spiritual weapon. Her hands were clasped to her head and her body shook as it had that night four thousand years previously.

He approached the raving spirit and stopped before her. She seemed not to notice the man standing in front of her, for she continued to scream random gibberish that held no real meaning to anyone but her. He studied her with interest, curious as to what had happened to her. He was certain of only a two things. At some point, she had been able to re-establish her connection to the Force and, in his absence, she had become the master of the Star Forge. He knew this because hers was the only presence aboard the space station other than his own and in order to take control of the Star Forge, one had to be able to command the Force with power beyond a normal Jedi or Sith.

He didn't know how it was possible, nor did he really care at this point. His priority was to get rid of her. Seeing her like this not only hurt and confused him, but it was also detrimental to his plans to overthrow the Galactic Empire. He would need the Star Forge and she was keeping it from him. Their relationship was secondary to that.

"Mina," he said aloud. His voice was filtered by his mask's systems so that it would be indistinct and similar to a droid's, making it impossible for her to recognize him by it.

She did seem to react to her own name though. "Mina?" she wondered aloud. "Mina!" She began to chant her own name. It was as if she recognized it from somewhere but was not sure where she had heard it. She shook her head back and forth, snarling and cursing her own name. She grabbed her head and fell to her knees, screaming in pain as if something had suddenly struck her.

"Mina!" he cried to her. He hoped that the presence of another human being would be enough to break through her mind's clutter, but it was to no avail. He could not see anything else in the room, but the dark side of the Force began to swirl around the command center like a hurricane. It was enticing to him. The Forge was trying to tempt him away from its mistress and he truly wanted to give into his temptation, letting himself revel in its almighty power, but he forced himself not to. The Star Forge was trying to lure him away from its master but he refused to let it continue to torture her the way that it was. He had to focus.

Ignoring the power that whipped through the room, he wrinkled his brow and frowned. He had never dealt with an insane Force ghost before. He couldn't touch or interact with her physically, so he would have to try to break through the clutter with words and images. His right hand moved to tear away the faceless mask that obscured his features from her. "Mina, look at me!"

Her head turned and her eyes focused on him for a moment without recognition. Her features twisted into a frown and everything stopped. The pain that wracked her body seemed to vanish and the lamenting song that the Force sang for her was silent. Revan hoped that the confused look she gave him was one of vague recognition; that she knew that she knew who he was but could not quite place his face. In truth, it was just strange to her that there was someone else with her aboard the Star Forge. She had been the only one to find the ancient superstructure in more than four thousand years. The presence of another human was an usual twist indeed.

The Dark Lord met her eyes, noting that all of the dark emotions that had been in them mere moments ago were gone. All of the hate and pain had been replaced with vague interest and awed confusion. She stood up slowly and turned away from him. "My body," she whispered to herself as she went. "My body."

The Force apparition walked through the walls of the Star Forge and Revan moved to follow. If her spirit was bound to her body then it was possible that he could set her free if her simply destroyed it. If not, he would have make his way to the Star Forge's core and discuss the matter with the artificial intelligence that governed the Star Forge's inner workings and negotiate the release of Mina Takhisis. If the program refused to cooperate, he had ways of persuading that would force even a machine to come to his way of thinking and it would not be pleasant.

Despite the order to return to the _Spirit of Revenge, _Darth Traya chose to ignore her former pupil's order and remain on the Star Forge in order to purge the dark spirits that still ran rampant aboard the ancient space station. Aside from the exiled Jedi Knight who became the master of the artificial intelligence that operated the massive factory, other Force users had come and gone throughout the ages that were now trapped and needed to be released. Revan could not sense these other spirits due to the fact that he saw only the spirit of Mina Takhisis aboard the Rakatan monument, but she was not blinded by memories that were best left forgotten. Her student's plan to free the galaxy was a good one but he was letting his personal feelings distract him. This obsession with his past lover was sickening to her.

Traya walked through the halls of the lowest deck of the Star Forge, noting that there were no bodies lying about, despite the plethora of spirits that roamed the ancient halls. She could sense the growing anger within the station, indicating that the AI did not accept her presence within its walls but she ignored the feeling. There was nothing that it could do to stop her short of killing her and that would only bring the hand of Revan down upon the age old superstructure. Despite its omnipotent control of the dark side, the Star Forge AI was still a machine and there were certain things it could not do. The Dark Lord of the Sith knew all of its strengths and weaknesses and knew how to destroy it should it ever betray him. Her death would only bring about its destruction and she was fairly confident that the computers knew it too.

Still, the Star Forge did not want her to release the Jedi and Dark Jedi that it had corrupted and captured over the centuries and it would do everything in its power to stop her. Two metal devices were at the far end of the room, each with a large open circle at the very end. Bolts of electricity shot out of these openings and scorched the ground at the very end of the room, several meters from where the former Jedi Master walked. Two large orange Star Forge droids materialized at the end of the room, blocking her path to the door there. They were not the strange shaped creatures that she remembered from the war with the Republic, but instead their exoskeletons were more humanoid shaped. Each was armed with one of the Star Forge's unique blaster rifles and a strange red gel looking aura coated their forms, which Traya presumed to be shields.

The Dark Lady sighed as she pulled her lightsaber from her belt, but did not activate it. The two droids began to march towards her and once they left the spot where they were created the machines created two more. This process continued until eight droids were marching towards her, blasters raised. The two in the front opened fire, sending two uniquely colored bolts at her. Her saber activated and she struck the two azure plasma shots with her weapon, causing them to fly back at the droids. As she anticipated, the droids' shields absorbed the damage, leaving them untouched.

With a sigh, Traya began to walk towards the droids, deflecting any shots that they sent her way. Once she was in striking distance, she didn't even bother to shred them to pieces with her crimson hued blade. Instead, she simply used the Force to rip their weapons from their hands. Once the droids were unarmed, an artificial wind began to blow through room. It became stronger and stronger until the machines were knocked off their feet, swept into the whirlwind that was whipping everything in the room that wasn't bolted down about. The droids tried to analyze the situation and adjust, but it was impossible. The whirlwind forced them to smash into one another or fling into the walls, causing them to explode and sparks rained down to the ground about the old woman.

Once the droids had been dealt with, Traya looked up at the two devices that had created them and frowned. Using the Force to guide it, the Dark Lady threw her lightsaber into the air, striking the device and causing it to explode before it moved onto the next one. More sparks showered down upon her but she ignored them and started to walk forward, catching her lightsaber as she went. Before she could reach the door, a light whining noise filled the air, causing her to wince as it pierced her ears. She turned around and looked up to see a small spherical shaped probe droid floating towards her. The machine was primarily black, but there was a circular shaped glass photoreceptor which was an eerie blue color and Traya could sense the inner mechanics of this droid moving at an abnormally fast rate, meaning that this probe was directly linked to an artificial intelligence, for only an AI could think at such speeds. The Sith woman deactivated her weapon to signify that she meant no harm, but kept it in her hand to be safe. She had never trusted the Rakatan AI that governed the inner workings of the Star Forge and four thousand years of separation didn't make her feel any more secure.

"Greetings," the droid said politely. "I am Star Forge AI probe recon droid Delta. May I inquire as to what you are doing?"

"Do you recognize me, droid?" the old woman asked in an acid like tone.

It took the droid less than a moment to register her face and compare it to all known sentient beings in its memory core before it answered. "You are Darth Traya," the droid began. "Third in command of the Sith Empire and Mistress of the Academy of Malachor V. You were to take control of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant once Darth Revan captured it, but records indicate that before the Sith fleet could destroy the Republic fleet one of the Star Forge hyperdrives aboard a Star Forge Interdictor Dreadnaught malfunctioned sent the _Spirit of Revenge, _which you were stationed on, forward in time by three thousand nine hundred and fifty seven standard years."

Traya nodded, satisfied that the droid knew who she was. "I am one of your masters then, Machine," she pointed out. "Release the spirits of fallen Jedi that you have captured since our journey through time." The former Jedi Master folded her arms and waited for the droid to respond, staring at it with the two black abysses that were her eyes. She saw the small probe only through the Force, which made it difficult to perceive. It didn't exist in the Force as organics did, meaning that she could only sense the hole in the Force that it created. Still, her limited knowledge of its presence, movement, and location told her all that she needed to know.

"I am sorry," Delta told her. "In order to release the spirits of deceased Jedi, I would require a direct command from the Master."

"I have all of the same clearance aboard this station as Darth Revan, meaning that I am to be treated as your master," she replied.

"Incorrect," it stated. "Darth Revan is no longer the Master of the Star Forge."

Traya was not surprised, having already arrived at the conclusion that someone else had taken command of the station while they had been away, but she had expected that the droid would still follow orders from a former master, as she had not died and no one had known of her authorization in order to revoke it.

"Where is the master?" she asked wearily.

The droid seemed to check something in its databanks for a moment before it replied. "I am sorry. I do not have authorization to answer that question." It stopped for a moment before the eerie blue color of its photoreceptor turned a fiery red color. "New Orders: Kill all intruders. This is a first priority mission from the master!"

Traya stepped back and threw her hand at Delta. Tendrils of blue-white lightning crackled at her finger tips and lashed the droid violently, frying its inner circuits. The droid exploded and the single photoreceptor fell to the ground and shattered. The Sith Lady could sense a hoard of Star Forge droids approaching her position and she knew that even more were going to come down on Revan. They needed reinforcements.

"Malak, where are you?" she spoke into her intercom. There was no answer and the vibrations of a marching droid army ripped through the ground. "Malak!" There was still no answer. She sighed and shook her head. The Star Forge AI had probably jammed their transmissions, making it impossible for them to call in reinforcements or even contact one another.

Traya thumbed her lightsaber's activation switch, causing the red blade to spring forth. In addition, three more sabers were attached to her belt. Using the Force, the Sith Lady pulled them loose and used her powers to stabilize them. Three violet blades sprang forth from the weapons and began to hover around her, acting as an impenetrable shield with a mind of its own.

Contrary to what Traya had expected, the Star Forge droids did not bother Revan or even attempted to hamper his progress. Mina was walking at a relatively slow rate and it was a simple matter to follow her from a safe distance. If she passed through a wall, he would use the Force to remove it from his path. The alarm had not gone off in the upper level of the Rakatan superstructure and he could not sense any of the commotion that was occurring below. All he felt was Mina and her spirit.

Still, the Dark Lord did not let down his guard completely. He was aware of the sentinel droids that were following him as he trailed his former companion through the halls. He had replaced his mask and was using the targeting system in order to analyze their composition and structure. Each one was equipped with a beam cannon that would fire superheated plasma if the order was given. Having worked with such sentinels before, he was aware that deflecting their blaster fire back at them with his lightsaber would be impossible. A constant stream of fire was impossible to bounce off the energized blade of his weapon and he would have to rely on his abilities with the Force if they should become hostile.

It had not come to that though. They simply followed him silently as he navigated through the ancient halls of the grand space factory. Keeping a watchful eye on his pursuers, the red and black armor clad Sith Lord turned his attention to the spirit of Mina. She was leading him towards the medical bay as far as he could tell, which was surprising. Was her body still inside of the emergency room where she had died? Had the Star Forge AI simply left it to rot for all time? Unless it had been pumped with preservatives, the bones themselves should have dissolved into dust by now. There would be no way to destroy her body if that was the case and he would have to find a new means of releasing her.

Still, he did not know how she had died, what condition her body had been in, or what protocols she had enacted after taking over the Star Forge, so he decided to simply follow her and see what happened. The spirit led him into the medical center, which had not changed much in the last four thousand years. He closed down all of his mask's scanners and sensors, allowing him to look at the room with his own shielded eyes. Switching over from the dark green color of the scanners to the bright white color of the room stunned his eyes and he had to stop and wait for them to adjust. Once he was alright, he continued to follow the spirit.

It wasn't until she led him into the back room that he saw any changes from the room where he himself had once been treated for battle wounds. The operating room had been completely revamped as some sort of laboratory. A large table that was standing vertically was surrounded by complex equipment that he did not recognize at all. He couldn't discern its use or function simply by looking at it and would have to go through the Forge's records in order to learn its purpose. As for the table, he could tell that it was blocking something from view, because the spirit had stopped and was looking at the other side with a smile. Furthermore, the machines seemed to be working on whatever was on the other side of it.

A large mechanical arm pulled away from whatever project it was working on and began typing at a computer terminal at the far end of the room. A panel in the wall opened and a female shaped manikin was ejected. He noted the strange object with interest, as it was dressed in what looked like black Jedi robes. A silver belt with a copy of the Sith emblem on the buckle wrapped around the waist and he was interested to see a lightsaber hanging from it, which he recognized as Mina's from her days in the war.

"Mina, what is going on?" he asked her spirit.

"Shhhhhhh!" she snapped at him as she brought her index finger to her lips. "My body knows!"

The arm that had summoned the robed manikin took the garments and began to place it on something else. The sick idea that the equipment was dressing Mina's decayed corpse in a fresh set of Jedi robes entered his mind and he moved to stop it. He ran to the other end of the table, hand on his lightsaber, but stopped suddenly.

"By the Force," he gasped as he realized that he was face to face with the body of Mina Takhisis. His eyes widened as the droid attached the utility belt to her waist. She was exactly as he remembered her. The body had not changed one bit. Her hair was still the soft silky white color that it had been and her face had not decayed at all. He could sense all of the organs working and the body was functioning properly but it was missing something; a spirit. "You found a way to bring yourself back to life?"

"Exactly!"

It was not Mina who answered his question. Instead, a small spherical shaped probe droid that was identical to the one that Traya had spoken with hovered behind him. "Greetings. I am Star Forge probe recon droid Gamma."

"How did she do this?" Revan asked the probe as he studied his former lover's body. "It hasn't decayed at all."

"On the contrary," the droid replied. "The body of the master dissipated nearly three thousand eight hundred and twenty-three years ago. This is an exact replica of what she once was."

"A clone?"

"Precisely," the probe replied.

"My body," the spirit raved. "My body."

"You see, the master traveled through most of the known galaxy searching for you, Darth Revan, after your disappearance over Coruscant. Her travels took her to Korriban, where she encountered the maddened spirit of the ancient Sith Lord, Ajunta Pall. Her studies of Pall's spirit taught her what Jedi would become if they refused to become one with the Force. The master did not believe that she would be able to become one with the Force until she was reunited with you, Darth Revan and she feared that the same fate would befall her."

"Which it has," he muttered darkly.

"True, but the master planned ahead. Once she discovered the Star Forge and became its master, the central computer AI informed her of your jump through time. She left explicit instruction that a clone of her body was to be made and that it was to have reached the age of twenty-four at the time of your arrival in this time."

"How did the AI know of my journey through time?" Revan asked suspiciously.

"The Star Forge is capable of tracking all of its products and after calculating the coordinates and locating the mistake in the hyperspace path, it was simple to calculate when and where you would re-emerge."

The droid's explanation made sense and he wondered if this ability would prove advantageous in the future. He knew he would be able to use it in order to track missing or captured ships, but he doubted that he would ever be able to test its time travel predictions. Still, he was interested in what the droid had to say and indicated that it was to continue with a nod of his masked head.

"Knowing her spirit would descend into madness, the master ordered that the mind of the clone was to have sufficient memories and information to pull her from her madness."

"Her brain would function normally and her spirit would be healed," he realized. "Incredible."

"The master's body is now complete. She is ready to return to the world of the living."

Revan looked at the body and then to the spirit. If it was possible to bring her back to life, he wanted to do it. She had been one of his most loyal troops and a damn good military officer. Her presence would give him one advantage an advantage over the Galactic Empire that he wouldn't mind having.

"Mina," he said to her as he removed his mask again. "Do it. Enter your body."

Though she gave no indication of hearing him, Mina stepped forward and the spirit fell into the clone. The Force ghost vanished and he could sense awesome power flowing through the air around him as the Jedi Knight's life was restored to her. The eyes fluttered open and her emerald colored eyes met with Revan's amber colored ones.

There was a long moment of silence between the two before Mina chose to break it. She stepped away from the table and walked past him, taking in the sights around her with her new eyes. She breathed long and deep breaths, savoring the cold air the went in and out of her lungs. Her hands ran across everything that they could and memories of what objects such as metal and plasteel felt like returned to her. Her body was screaming with life and she felt ecstasy from it.

"I'm alive!" she smiled.

"Mina," Revan spoke.

She turned around at the sound of her name and looked at him through her burning emerald eyes. Her smile widened as she recognized him at last and the same calm and serenity the two had once felt in each other's presence was restored after four thousand years. "Revan," she sighed as she shook her head playfully. She stepped forward and placed her hands on his breastplate, letting the physical feeling from the thick armor wash over her. The reborn woman pressed herself close to him and their eyes met. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she pulled his head down to hers. Their lips met for the first time in years and tranquility flooded their minds. The kiss deepened and intensified as they pulled each other closer.

Revan reluctantly broke the kiss and pulled her into a tight embrace. "This is impossible," he whispered.

"No it isn't," Gamma interjected. "Would you like me to explain the scientific specifications to you?"

Mina looked at the droid darkly and decided to test out her new body's abilities. Her mind focused on the machine and the Force began to compress around it. The circuits inside popped and it imploded, the glass photoreceptor shattering as sparks flew in every direction. "I hate droids," she told him.

"I remember," he replied with a smile.

The two interlocked their gloved fingers and shared one more heartfelt look before they both leaned forward for another kiss. Passion engulfed them both. She began to unbuckle the straps of his breastplate as they kissed, both becoming more excited when they realized what was about to happen. Revan pushed her outer robe off of her shoulders and it fell to the floor in a clump. Her knees went week and she collapsed to the ground, followed by his bulky form.

As time went by, the screams of ecstasy that Mina unleashed were paralleled by the cries of pain that Darth Traya emitted in the lower levels of the Star Forge as she battled with an entire droid army.


	5. Deliberations

**The Darkest Lord  
Chapter V: Deliberations**

When she had been eleven years old, Bastila Shan had discovered that she had a very rare gift among those who were chosen to become Jedi Knights. She had still been a Jedi Initiate, not even having attained the rank of padawan learner. The Jedi Master who had been overseeing the initial training of the initiates at the time, Kol Cade, and another master, Dorak Epsila, had been giving a lecture at the time on the Shi-Cho lightsaber form. Once the lecture had been over, the two Jedi Masters engaged in a practice duel in order to demonstrate what they had just explained.

During the duel, Bastila, who had been determined to become a Jedi Consular at the time, fell into a quite meditation and ignored most of the demonstration. She could never truly be sure of what had happened after that. Her mind had wandered and as far as she could remember, she had fallen asleep. She was told later though that she had not really been asleep but that her mind had actually delved into the Force in order to affect the minds of both Master Cade and Master Dorak. She had snapped back into reality upon hearing a very loud shriek of pain. Master Dorak had slipped up and received a nasty blow to the chest. He had almost died but Master Arren Kae, a Jedi Healer, had been able to save his life and get him back on his feet within a matter of days.

Master Cade had sensed the power fluctuations in Bastila's mind and felt the need to report it to the Jedi Council. After many days of deliberation, the Jedi decided to test a theory that had been formulated by Master Nomi Sunrider. After the council had watched her for several weeks, they came to the conclusion that she had been gifted with the art of Battle Meditation. Shortly afterwards, Master Sunrider, a galaxy-wide renowned hero, approached her and took her on as a padawan learner. Bastila, now a padawan, had been selected to train at the heel of the woman who had ended the threat of the Sith Lord Ulic Qel-Droma and the woman who had practically developed Battle Meditation within the order. In the eight years that followed, the Jedi padawan had become quite proficient at the art and had used it to lead the Republic forces to victory after victory against the Sith forces that Darth Revan and Darth Malak unleashed on the galaxy. In all of that time, she had never experienced what she was experiencing now.

Bastila and her only companion, Commander Carth Onasi of the Republic Navy and a wealthy noble of the planet Telos IV, had been transported through time and were now evading the Sith forces of Darth Revan and the forces of an empire that was controlled by more modern Sith. As the Force would have it, she and Commander Onasi had been able to escape from two Sith Lords who ruled two separate Sith empires because of a small group of rebels that had been captured as well. The two from the past joined together with these rebels and escaped from a massive superstation aboard a small smuggling vessel. Although the pilot boasted about the ship's speed, the Sith had been able to keep up with them and they had been drawn into a space skirmish.

With all of the gunner positions occupied, Bastila did the only thing that she knew would help them escape. She fell to her knees, concentrated on the Force, and began to use her talent. Despite the fact that she had used her Battle Meditation to enter the minds of others countless times before, there had never been a mind that had latched onto her consciousness and trapped her within it. It seemed, however, that Darth Vader had been able to accomplish such a feat. Once he withdrew his consciousness from the real world and began to focus on the foreign presence in his mind, Vader unleashed all of his mental strength at her. She had been forced to delve deeper into his thoughts, violating all of the mind's privacy in order to seek refuge within his memories. It had felt like she had fallen through an endless abyss of darkness for days before she finally felt the blackness around her dissolve, giving way to an entire world that was colored a fiery red and orange color from the molten lava that covered its surface.

When Bastila did re-emerge inside of Darth Vader's memories, she was not herself. She felt trapped, cold, and alone. A burning sensation that she had never experience but knew was undiluted rage coursed through her as the scene unfolded around her. Her body was moving by itself. A Jedi was not far from her, standing on a metal platform that was moving through the tides of the lava with its current. She herself stood on a small labor droid that was half submerged beneath the volcanic emission. The heat was overwhelming, but she did not care. The rage that fueled her every movement blotted out such distracting things like the exhaustion that wracked her entire body and the heat that threatened to burn the skin off of her very bones. She had to focus o just one thing: the Jedi.

The Jedi that she saw on the platform before her was weak and his powers were getting weaker with each passing moment. He was sweating profusely, probably due from both the planet's natural heat and from physical exertion. His robes had been darkened by the smoke that filled the air across the world that they were on, turning them to a dark gray color. Some spots were even blackened in places where bits of magma had splashed through the air and caught him. Despite all of this, he seemed determined. The Jedi held a lightsaber in his hand that had a very familiar azure color to it that Bastila knew she recognized.

What was strange was that she herself was holding a similarly colored saber that she had never seen in her life. The shell had a design that a Jedi Sentinel, such as herself, would never use as it would interfere with her ability to combine her swordsmanship with the Force. This weapon's hilt had been designed for combat and combat only. It was a Jedi Guardian's weapon and she wasn't sure how she had come to possess it.

Without choosing to do so, Bastila used the Force to guide the droid she was standing on closer to the platform where the Jedi was standing. He looked familiar but she couldn't place it. He had a thick but well maintained beard on his chin and mustache beneath his nose. His eyes were hardened, as if he had steeled himself to do something that went against every moral fiber of his being.

As she grew close, the Jedi attacked first. She countered with her own lightsaber and the two began to engage in a fierce duel. As they struggled to gain the upper hand over one another, she lashed out with wild and unpredictable moves that resembled the Shien form of lightsaber combat, but it was far more effective than the Shien form was known to be against another lightsaber combatant. Still, she didn't care. She had the advantage and that was all that mattered. With one final grapple, she and the Jedi broke apart. The Jedi kept his saber raised in a defensive stance but took the break in the action as a chance to catch his breath. She forced herself to breathe through her nose, making it look as if she weren't worn out by the battle that had been raging between them for some time now.

"I have failed you, Anakin," the Jedi said to her. "I have failed you."

For some reason, this sparked only more anger inside of her to surface. Her grip on the Guardian saber tightened and her eyes narrowed. "I should have known the Jedi were plotting to take over!" she snarled at him.

"Anakin, Chancellor Palpatine is evil!" he cried out.

"From the Jedi point of view," she countered. "From my point of view the Jedi are evil!"

"Then you are lost!" he cried.

The Jedi was getting desperate. His attempt to reach her through idle chatter was beginning to annoy her and she wanted to finish him off so that she could go be with the woman that she loved. Images of a brunette haired angel with a large swollen stomach and a beautiful smile filled her mind. A smile flickered across her face for a split second before it vanished and she regained her resolve to slaughter the man before her.

The currents of the lava brought their two platforms together, bringing them within striking distance of one another. The Jedi refused to make the first move but she had no qualms with striking. "This is the end for you, my master," she stated coldly.

Bastila leapt into the air, flipping over the Jedi's head and landed on the platform behind him. They both spun around so that they were facing each other again and the battle resumed. Balance was becoming a problem for both of them. The magma was eating way at the metal alloy that their platform was made out of, making it difficult for both of them to stand far enough apart from one another to duel. Both made a fair attempt but it was the Jedi who decided that it would be impossible to continue. He broke free of the struggle and leapt backwards onto a nearby shore at the edge of the lava, landing on a higher portion of it.

Bastila quickly used the Force to halt her platform's progress through the ocean of fire's currents and turned to look up at the man who she hated so much. He was a coward for fleeing from her!

"It's over Anakin," he called down to her as she seethed over how he attempted to flee. "I have the high ground."

She wanted to laugh right back in his face for making such an arrogant statement. His hubris would be his undoing in this case and that made her smile. "You underestimate my power!" she warned him.

"Don't try it," the Jedi pleaded.

The Jedi padawan crouched down and leapt at her enemy, preparing to bring her blade down on his head. Before she could though, he swung his blade upwards in a single cut, which caught her off guard. It took her mind a moment to register what had just happened as her body slammed down into the ground and she rolled down the hill, towards the lava. The only thing that slowed her progress was her right arm, which dug into the loose topsoil of the hill. Pain that was so blinding she thought that she had truly died exploded throughout her entire body. She screamed but couldn't hear it over the feeling of her own pain. Her eyes saw that both of her legs and her left arm were rolling down the slope, into the fiery waters behind her. Her first instinct was to call on the Force to heal her wounds or at least to soften the pain but she could not find the spark of light within her mind to heal herself. It was gone. Only a black abyss rested inside of her, obscuring all light from view. It was impossible for her to heal herself. The rage and pain blocked out any of the goodness that may have still been inside of her heart.

The Jedi before her retracted the blade of his lightsaber and started to walk away. He picked up the Guardian saber that she had dropped as he went and started to head off, unable to say a word to her. Another scream escaped her though and this forced him to turn back to her and look at the heap that was the pathetic remains of her body. He looked as if he would weep, but he didn't. Instead, he buried his sorrow in anger. The sight surprised her for some reason because she had never really seen this man angry before. He was a Jedi. Such emotions were the path to darkness but he seemed to have forgotten the blasted code so that he could continue to hurt her until she died.

"You were the chosen one!" he shouted. "You were supposed to destroy the Sith, not join them! You were supposed to bring balance to the Force, not leave it in darkness!" He sighed painfully once he was done and turned away. He was finished. He couldn't watch this anymore.

Waves of lava were crashing against the shore of the hill that she was on and she could feel drops of burning liquid licking the stumps of her legs. The pain was only worsened by this. Her only hand clenched in rage and she smashed it against the ground. "I hate you!" she screamed with all of the venom that she could.

The Jedi turned back one final time and this time it was clear that there were tears in his eyes. His body shook with emotions that a Jedi should have controlled but he seemed unable to. "You were my brother, Anakin!" he said sadly. "I loved you."

Just as he said this, the lava in the ocean crashed against the shore and ignited the fabric of her robes. She suddenly realized that the pain she felt was about to intensify and braced herself for the worse. Within moments, her entire body was complete engulfed in flames and her screams ripped through the air like a bolt of lightning, sending a chill down the Jedi's spine.

Bastila could sense the sorrow that the Jedi was radiating and suddenly knew who he was. It was the same Jedi Master that had helped her escape from the Death Star with Carth Onasi. Her fist unclenched when she realized that she was about to loose consciousness and was grateful to the Force that she would not have to bear such intolerable pain for much longer. The darkness began to close in on her and she slowly let it consume her…

A long groan escaped from the stirring Jedi as she slowly came back to the physical world, her body aching everywhere. Her gray eyes fluttered open and she looked about, seeing those who had rescued her and Commander Onasi from the Death Star.

"How are you feeling?" the old Jedi Master asked as he helped her sit up.

"Fine," she responded. "What happened?"

"We outran the Imperials," the pilot answered. "And now I think it's time for some explanations."

"I agree," the older Jedi replied. "But I think it would be best if we began with introductions."

Bastila stood up, slowly taking stock of the situation around her. She was in the main hold of the _Millennium Falcon, _clearly having been moved out of the cockpit after she had lost consciousness. A thousand questions were running through her head at the moment. What had she seen when she had accidentally delved into Darth Vader's memories? Why had the Jedi Master before her spared the Sith Lord and let him become the monster that he now was?

Despite the fact that she wanted answers to these questions, she knew that it would be both impolite and detrimental to her cause to instantly make accusations before she even knew the Jedi's name, therefore she decided to be patient. Turning her attention away from the Jedi Master, she focused on the others who were aboard the ship. The pilot looked like a somewhat shady character and she could sense clouded and mixed thoughts within his mind, though she wasn't able to read him as she normally would read a Force-blind. This puzzled the young Jedi but in the end she chocked it up to exhaustion from her encounter in Darth Vader's mind rather than any formal training on his part.

A brown furred Wookiee stood protectively near the pilot, though he did not seem feral or vicious in anyway. His demeanor was relaxed, as if he felt comfortable with his surroundings, but his hands were ready to jerk to the blaster rifle that was resting in a harness on his back. It was likely that the hairy creature was honoring a life debt to the captain. Though Bastila had never actually met a Wookiee before, she knew that their life debts were considered sacred and more binding than blood in their culture, which would explain why he felt the need to watch over the man, even if he didn't feel that his charge was in any sort of danger. The Wookiee's mind was somewhat easier to read than his companion's, though there was no truly useful information on the surface. Dark thoughts clouded his feelings, hinting that the furry creature had known hard times in his life and that he had a deeper past than his expression and demeanor let on, much like the man he protected.

A young girl stood near a golden plated protocol droid and a blue and white painted astromech droid. The young Jedi was somewhat surprised to see the amount of raw Force energy that the girl was radiating and kept her gray eyes focused on her for a moment. The Force was clearly strong within her but it was wild and untamed, like a cyclone that raged inside of her. She had an attractive face, though it was hardened and seemed very sad, as if she had experienced some great loss recently. There was anger and even hate within her, which could prove dangerous given her high sensitivity to the Force.

Standing next to the Jedi Master were Commander Onasi and a young boy, who looked to be about the same age as the girl that she had just studied. The boy was very similar in fact. They both appeared to be roughly twenty years old, maybe a little younger even. Both of them had an unusually high sensitivity to the Force and neither of them seemed to have any sophisticated Jedi training. This boy's control over his natural talents was probably a bit greater than the girl's seeing as how he was controlling his emotions better. The same dark backdrop was there in his mind but he seemed to be more at peace with whatever horrors he had experienced. She could only assume that this boy was the Jedi Master's apprentice, though his training must have only recently begun.

Bastila noticed that everyone in the room had their attention firmly fixed on her and that she was being quite rude by ignoring them. "I apologize," she said hastily as she offered her hand to the Jedi Master. "I am Bastila Shan." With a nod, the Jedi Master took her hand and shook it firmly before he proceeded with introductions from his end.

"I am General Obi-Wan Kenobi," he responded. "And this is my apprentice, Luke Skywalker," he said as he indicated the boy and confirmed Bastila's theory.

"Han Solo," the captain said as he indicated himself. "And this is my first mate, Chewbacca." The Wookiee growled what the young Jedi believed to be a warm welcome, though she couldn't be one hundred percent sure.

"My name is Leia Organa," the girl introduced herself.

"Why hello," the gold plated protocol droid said as he stepped forward. "I am C-3P0, human-cyborg relations. And this is my counterpart," he said as he indicated the astromech droid. "R2-D2." The smaller droid beeped cheerfully. Threepio stepped forward and approached Carth. "And who may I ask are you?"

"I'm Commander Carth Onasi, with the Republic Navy," he replied.

"Republic?" Han repeated.

"Yes," Carth replied. "Bastila, I think you'd better explain what's going on," he suggested.

The padawan nodded and took a seat in on of the passenger chairs that were anchored down to the ground. The entire group kept silent as she related her tale to them. There were various reactions when she spoke of the Mandalorian Wars and told them of the Jedi prodigy that was Revan. She detailed what she knew of his fall to the dark side, which Obi-Wan knew to been both incomplete and far more complex than she made it sound, though he did not interrupt her. She told them of how he became known as Darth Revan and how he launched a campaign against the Jedi Order, which had resulted in a war with the Republic. They were horrified to hear the stories of the worlds that had been devastated by the Sith forces and the countless lives that had been lost. Then they heard of the Jedi's plan to capture either Darth Revan or Darth Malak and use one of the Sith Lords to find the secrets of their power. Obi-Wan seemed particularly affected when she explained how her four companions had been mercilessly slain by the Dark Lord aboard his ship during their mission and how he had attempted to come after her as well.

All the while as she spoke, they wondered where such events could have taken place and how was it possible that none of them had ever heard these stories. A full scale war with the Republic would have been remembered for generations, but it didn't strike a bell with any of them. Han had pretty much concluded that the Jedi was either lying or crazy and in either case he didn't want her on his ship any longer. Still, he remained silent and waited for her story to end. He became even more skeptical when she told them of her capture by the two Sith Lords and when she told them of the conversation that she had heard between Revan and Vader. The others all appeared to believe her, which made him roll his eyes.

When Bastila was finished with her story, Obi-Wan Kenobi sighed and folded his hands in his lap as he took a seat beside her. "I am afraid that you have been brought to a rather dark time," he informed her. "The Jedi Order was wiped out nearly a generation ago by one of its own. The Republic and democracy were overthrown, replaced by this empire that we now live in. The Sith rule in secret, shrouded behind the political veil that the emperor has weaved for himself."

"Yes, Darth Vader said as much," she replied. "But how did this happen? How did the Jedi fall?"

"No one knows," Leia answered. "The Emperor kept that information confidential."

"There are those who know," the Jedi Master told her. "Myself for example."

Leia's attention suddenly shifted from Bastila to Obi-Wan, curious as to what information he had about the fall of the Jedi Order. As a child, she had read numerous holobooks that told stories of the Jedi Knights and she had asked her parents on more than one occasion what had happened to them, but they had always responded that the emperor had covered up the truth and all that they knew were lies.

"The Jedi Order lived in times of peace ever since the Ruusan Reformation, more than one thousand years ago. The Sith hadn't been heard of and we assumed that their teachings were extinct. We were wrong."

"What happened?" Luke asked.

It was Obi-Wan's turn to tell a very long story of his own. He told them of how he had been a padawan under the tutelage of Qui-Gon Jinn and how they had been sent on a mission to rescue the queen of the Naboo system. Their mission had taken them to Tatooine, where they had been attacked by a saber wielding foe that had been trained in the dark arts. Later, back on Naboo, this same warrior had challenged them again and had killed Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan had managed to kill him and it was later decided by the Jedi Council that he had been a Sith Lord, though they had been unsure of whether or not it had been the Sith Master or the Sith Apprentice. Ten years later, the answer to that question had been answered when another Sith Lord had appeared and initiated a war between the Republic and dozens of planets that wished to break away and form their own nation within the galaxy. Near the end of the war, this new Sith apprentice had been killed by Obi-Wan's apprentice and the Sith Master, now known as the Galactic Emperor, began to seek a new apprentice to replace his old one. The new apprentice, Darth Vader, had led an attack on the Jedi Temple, while the Emperor's soldiers across the galaxy began slaughtering all of the Jedi they could find. In the end, the entire order was practically wiped from existence.

"That's awful," Bastila spoke once Obi-Wan had completed his tale. The old Jedi Master nodded his head as he crossed his arms over his chest. "What are you going to do now though?"

"That's a good question," Han agreed. "Because you ain't staying on my ship."

All eyes in the room immediately darted to the captain in disgust. It was Leia who voiced her opinion on the situation first. "You would really abandon us to save your own skin, wouldn't you?" She scoffed and turned away from him. "You only rescued me for the reward, didn't you?"

"I only have one person to look out for, Princess," he retorted. "And that's me."

"You're a damn coward," Carth sneered at him. "How could you really turn your back on the galaxy like that?"

"Wait a moment," Obi-Wan said on Han's behalf. "Each of us is somehow connected to this conflict in a way that binds our very destinies to it. We have to face this challenge and there is no question about it. Captain Solo has the right to make his own decision however."

"Knowing what he does and turning away makes him a coward," Bastila stated coldly.

"Maybe," Han conceded. "But I'll still be alive. Soon as I drop you off on Yavin, I'm out." He stood up and stormed out of the room, leaving the others with a mixture of bewilderment and disgust at the fact that he would abandon them after all that he had heard and all that he now knew.

"What will we do?" Bastila asked.

"Well, I think there are still some things to be said before we make that decision," the older Jedi said as he indicated Leia. "I'm sure you've felt the raw potential flowing from this girl."

"Indeed I have," she replied.

"I've felt something too," Luke added. Obi-Wan smiled at his apprentice.

"That is good," he told him. "You're learning to use your feelings."

"But do you mean when you say 'raw potential' in me?" Leia inquired.

In truth, the princess was somewhat sure that she knew what the three Jedi, or two Jedi and the half-Jedi, were referring to. Ever since she had been a child, Leia had had a strange sort of sixth sense that had followed her everywhere that she went. There were times when her mind knew what was going to happen before it did and being able to perceive the future was not normal. Her mother had always told her that she simply had heightened reflexes and was in excellent physical condition but her father had always seemed to think that it had been more. When she had been a child, she had pressed the matter with him until he told her that he suspected that she was a Force sensitive.

Bail Organa had explained what he had known of Force sensitivity to her and that if there had still been a Jedi Order, she probably would have been accepted into it. For months after that conversation, the young princess had been enamored by the prospect of becoming a Jedi Knight and learning the ways of the Force. Now she was starting to believe that the childish dream she had cherished may not have been so far from reality as she had suspected.

Obi-Wan's answer confirmed what she had believed and a flicker of a smile tugged at her saddened features. Her mind began to accept the possibility of being schooled as a Jedi. It wasn't as if she didn't have the option. Her home planet had been destroyed, obliterated by the awesome power of the Empire's new super weapon. She was no longer the princess of Alderaan, which meant that her political duties to the Empire were gone. Even if they weren't, she had been branded a traitor by Darth Vader and Grand Moff Tarkin, effectively making it impossible for her to show her face in public ever again. Becoming a Jedi was probably the last useful thing that she could do for the Rebel Alliance. All things considered, how could she not accept the offer that Obi-Wan was purposing.

"I'll do it," she said with a nod.

"Yavin will be a fine place for you both to begin your training in earnest," the old Jedi Master stated. "The Force is strong on its surface." He drew in a sharp breath and turned to Bastila, unsure of how she would respond to his next suggestion. "Luke has already begun his training and I do not believe that it would be prevalent slow his progress so that Leia can catch up with him," he said matter-of-factly. "Therefore, I believe that you should become Leia's master."

Kenobi had expected her to be flattered and the young Jedi definitely was but she was also taken aback by the offer. Though she was not sure how the rules that governed the Jedi's actions had changed in the last four thousand years, she was certain that padawan learners were still not allowed to oversee the training and progress of another individual.

Obi-Wan sensed this and smiled. He stood up and walked over to her, placing a hand on her left shoulder. "Times are hard, Bastila. The formalized ways of the Jedi must be suspended if we are to survive. Therefore, you must forgive me for not gathering a council."

At first, she had simply believed that he was telling her that her expertise was needed, despite her youth, but the full meaning of what he was saying hit her when he mentioned a council. Could it be? Was he really going to promote her to the rank of Jedi Knight?

"Bastila Shan, I welcome you fully into the Jedi Order as a Knight of the Galactic Republic," he said as he applied pressure to her shoulder, indicating that she should fall to one knee. She did so and was awed when he drew his lightsaber with a ceremonial flourish. The blade fell gently beside her ear and its humming sound rang loudly in her ears as her heart pounded inside of her chest. "I pronounce you, Jedi Knight Bastila Shan," he stated as the blue-white blade of his saber retracted.

The words of the Jedi Code and the Jedi Oath suddenly filled Bastila's mind as she closed her eyes and bowed her head in silent awe of what had just happened. She was a Jedi Knight. All of her years of hard work and training had paid off. She had become a true member of the Jedi Order. It was impossible to keep the wide smile from her face and it would be for the next several days.


	6. Preperations

**The Darkest Lord  
Chapter VI: Preparations  
**

Darth Revan tapped his gloved finger impatiently as the medics brought the unconscious body of his former master, Darth Traya, into the medical bay. His entire mind was alive with rage at what had occurred while he had been indisposed with Mina Takhisis. How could he have let himself get so distracted? He was the Lord of the Sith! He should never have let himself lower his defenses the way that he had. His mistake had nearly cost him the life of one of his most powerful servants and though he would never openly admit it, a dear friend. He cursed himself inwardly for his childlike decisions.

Thankfully, the droids that defended the lower regions of the Star Forge had not been able to kill the former Jedi Master but they had come close. The first response team that had kept her stable until more advanced personnel arrived had found her with several burn marks and her usually flawless robes were covered with both blood and fluids that came from various droids. She would need kolto treatments for some time before she would be back to maximum efficiency and the doctors weren't sure how long it would be before she woke up.

He felt the presence of his only close friend, Malak, coming up behind him. The bald human put a comforting hand on his shoulder, which the Dark Lord shook off in annoyance. He did not need to be comforted like a child. He turned to his friend as he folded his arms over his chest, indicating that he wanted some sort of information. Malak, knowing that Revan was in a foul mood and very easy to stir to violence at the moment, hastened to report.

"We've managed to capture some of the Imperial technology, as you ordered Master. My men have already created prototype blaster technology that fuses the Star Forge equipment with the modern weaponry. I've given the first set to the Omegas."

"Fine," the Dark Lord said dismissively. It was clear that his mind was on other things and that a few new blasters really didn't concern him all that much. The Dark Lord's apprentice groaned inwardly, knowing that it would be impossible to get any sort of positive feedback for his work from his master at the moment. Instead, he chose to bring up a different subject that was more important.

"My slicers have managed to hack into the Empire's holonet. It runs on a different frequency than the one that the Republic used. Shall I begin uploading the necessary programs into ours ships?"

"Yes, fine."

In truth, Revan had already managed to slice into the holonet on his own several days previously but if someone else had already done the work for him, he saw no need to develop the computer programs that it would take to reprogram the Sith computers with useable frequencies. In fact, it would probably behoove him to simply let Malak's slicers do all of the computer work for him in the future. Most of the communication channels that they had used four thousand years ago were obsolete or inactive, meaning that they would have to establish new means of contact. His men would need to set up new radio towers on the worlds that they conquered. The line of sight satellite transmissions that they were using at the moment were only effective if they had a direct path to one another or something that would bounce the radio waves from one ship to the next. More sophisticated equipment would become necessary if they were to take control of the galaxy.

"And what are your orders for the fleet, My Lord?" Malak asked, breaking his master's train of thought.

Again, what his apprentice said made Revan fall into his own thoughts. He considered the question for a moment, his features forming a frown beneath the blank façade of his mask. Despite the fact that there were at least one millions Sith soldiers and officers making up the fleet that he commanded, the Empire had him vastly outnumbered. Billions of sentients lived on almost every planet in the galaxy, meaning that there were probably trillions of citizens within the Empire itself. They needed to set up bases of operations across the galaxy and recruit more to their cause. Furthermore, he had planned on sending a small portion of the fleet with Traya to the planet Mandalore, hoping that she would be able to negotiate with the current Mandalore and sway them to the Sith's side for the coming war. That would have to be postponed though. He didn't trust any of his other servants with such an important task, not even Malak.

The Empire had turned its attention to the planet Alzac. A decision had been made by the Emperor himself to raise the taxes on the planet, requiring that each citizen submit pay thirty percent of their annual income to the planet's government and then another forty percent was to be sent to the capital for Imperial use, leaving them with only thirty percent for their own use. After the usual union uprisings and political riots, the planet cut off all communication with the Empire and the Emperor had been quick to retaliate. Imperial forces now occupied the planet and from what he heard, the planet was quickly cooperating and the two parties would soon reach an agreement.

_Rubbish! _Revan thought bitterly. The occupying forces were probably imposing strict Imperial law on the citizens and conditions were probably worse than before. It was likely that the planet's leader had been swapped out for one that had no spine and wouldn't cause a problem.

Still, the Imperials had given him an advantage that he could use. As long as the people were discontent with the goings on within the Empire, they would be quick to swarm to his cause. Also, Alzac was on the outer rim so it would be easy to access. He wouldn't have to worry about Imperial forces cutting off his escape routes. It was a good place to begin _his _rebellion.

"We're going to assimilate the people of Azlac into our Sith empire first," he stated at last.

"Will I be the one leading the attack, Master?"

Revan nearly laughed at the very thought of letting Malak handle such a delicate mission. This was to be their first greeting to the galaxy. Not only was it imperative that he, the leader of the Sith, be the one to make first contact, it was doubly important that his apprentice stay out of such a conflict. Although he expected some bloodshed during the invasion and that was one of the bald Sith Lord's specialties, he did not like the idea of letting the man run loose and terrorize the locals. He had once entrusted Malak with a very delicate situation regarding the planet of Telos. He had regretted the decision when reports came in that his friend had gone off the deep end and completely annihilated the entire planet.

Revan had never trusted Malak with global conquest after that point.

"No," he said simply in response. "There will be no large scale assault on the planet."

"Yes my lord," the bald man responded through clenched teeth, having wanted to lead the attack himself.

"I want to Omegas ready though," he stated. "Besides blasters, have they been given any new equipment?"

"No my lord," Malak answered, putting his anger aside for later. "We've managed to capture three of the Empire's standard Star Fighters and my scientists and engineers have begun to create a hybrid between our technology and theirs. Progress has been slow however. Until the Star Forge is fully operational again, we won't be able to work at a faster rate."

Revan sighed, knowing that it would be quite some time before he would be able to regain complete control of his space station. Mina was the Forge's current master and despite the fact that she claimed to want to be a part of his empire, she still would not turn it over to him. The Dark Lord wasn't sure if this was because she was planning on using it as leverage to get something from him or because she planned on using it against him but he was suspicious in either case. Now that he had had her again and learned what it had nearly cost him, his vision on the situation was clear. She could be a threat and he would have to watch her closely.

"That is being dealt with," he said dismissively.

Malak narrowed his eyes and half a smirk cracked onto his face, which did not go unnoticed by his master. The taller Sith Lord was more than aware of the effect that his friend's lover had on him and knew that he would never have the nerve to openly confront her. He saw it as a sign of weakness and decided then and there that if Mina ever so much as looked at him the wrong way, he would deal with her himself. Though Revan had always considered his two closest friends to be on pretty even ground in terms of battle prowess and Force potential, Malak had always believed that this was a lie that had been conceived to make the woman feel secure. The idea of ripping that security away from her before plunging his lightsaber right through the schutta's heart satisfied the Sith apprentice to no end.

"Send in the Epsilon group," Revan ordered, wiping the smug look from Malak's features and bringing him back to reality. "It's possible that we'll be able to take Azlac by simply eliminating the Imperials who are stationed there. Once liberated, I'm hoping that they'll simply turn to our ways in gratitude."

"Very good, Master," his apprentice groveled. "The Epsilons will be more than sufficient."

Revan turned to leave but then halted, deciding that he would need to deal with his apprentice now, before he became a true threat. "I'm sending you and the Sigmas to Korriban. I want to know what has happened to the Sith tombs there and retake the planet if it was has been colonized. Use whatever force that is necessary but do not speak on behalf of the Sith Empire. If word of your slaughter gets out, I do not want it to be linked to our rebellion." Believing that this would be a sufficient assignment for Malak to keep him occupied for a few days, the Lord of the Sith turned away and strode off, leaving the bald former Jedi to ponder his thoughts.

Bastila Shan stepped off of the _Millennium Falcon, _following Master Kenobi and Princess Leia off of the small smuggling vessel. The Jedi Knight looked about in confusion as she planted her hands on her hips and took in the scenery around her. The freighter had landed in a small circular clearing that was surrounded by nothing but forest in every direction. With a scowl on her pale face, she turned around and looked back up at Han Solo, who was standing at the top of the ramp with his arms crossed and a pleased smirk on his lips.

"I hope you all have a nice trip," the smuggler said as he indented his head slightly.

"Wait just a moment!" Bastila thundered as she stormed up to him. "You plan to leave us in the middle of the woods?"

"That's what the old man asked me to do," he replied simply.

The older Jedi nodded when the younger one turned back and cast him a questioning gaze. Before she could press him for more information, he turned away and started towards the forest. Bastila frowned but accepted the older Jedi's decision. She turned to Han and gave him one last look of disgust. The pilot was about to give her a snide remark but Luke, carrying several packs around his shoulders, came into the room of the ship and started down the boarding ramp, bumping into the Jedi as he went.

"Sorry," he apologized as he set the bags down in the grass. "We ready?"

"Where is Commander Onasi?" the recently promoted Jedi asked.

"Here," Carth called from in the ship as he appeared at the top of the boarding ramp. "Don't these Rebels have a hangar we can use until Han packs up his money and leaves?"

"They do," Leia stated as she turned to Obi-Wan. "Why are we landing out here?"

The old Jedi Master was silent and pulled up his hood to shade his head from the harsh sun that was beaming down on the small group. Bastila sighed as the two droids came down the boarding ramp as well. "We need to move swiftly," Obi-Wan stated. "We have a job to do before we meet with the Rebels."

"What sort of job?" Carth asked angrily.

The middle-aged military commander had not been informed of any sort of job beforehand and cast a suspicious look at all of the Jedi, only to find that Bastila, Luke, and Leia all seemed as lost as he did. The old Jedi Master started into the forest by himself, knowing that his companions would soon follow. With a sigh, Carth decided that it would be best to accept what the old man said and keep a weary eye out for any signs of trouble. Although he had only just met her a few days ago, according to his memory, the Republic pilot had already come to trust Bastila for the most part, but Obi-Wan Kenobi was a different story. He was cryptic and rarely gave a straight answer to any questions that Carth ever posed about the Sith Lords who controlled the Empire, which led him to believe that the Jedi Master was hiding something. Shaking his head, he slung the pack that contained his supplies over his shoulder and started to follow Obi-Wan, leaving the other bags for someone else to carry.

Luke, who was in a very foul mood, walked up the boarding ramp of the _Millennium Falcon_ one last time. He stopped in front of Han, who fixed him with a tired look. The pilot had a feeling that he knew what the young man wanted to discuss and it was clear that he didn't want to be bothered. Still, the younger man was determined and refused to give up without making at least one more attempt to sway his friend.

"We could use your help," he stated angrily.

"Sorry kid. I have my own problems to deal with," he replied simply. "If I don't pay back Jabba the Hutt soon, I'll be a dead man."

"We can protect you from Jabba!" Luke offered.

Han chuckled at the thought and shook his head. "Not that I don't appreciate it, but I think I'd better just play this one by the book and pay the old slug back."

"You really don't care about anyone, do you?"

Han didn't even bother to consider the question. He turned away and started for the cockpit. "Better get off my ship fast, unless you want to be a permanent resident."

"Leia says you should lay low until the Rebels transfer your reward to your account," he informed the man as he walked off.

"Thanks."

Luke clenched his fists angrily and turned away, walking down the boarding ramp. "Goodbye Chewie!" he called back. His only response was a whining growl that sounded somewhat sad. The young Jedi initiate smiled, hoping that maybe the Wookiee would be able to persuade the stubborn old captain to come back. Pushing the thought out of his mind, he picked up his pack off the ground as the boarding ramp of the _Millennium Falcon _began to seal itself. The group started into the forest, knowing that they would want to use the trees as windbreakers when the freighter took off.

Once the _Millennium Falcon _was gone, Luke and Leia both sighed deeply, unable to believe that the man they were starting to consider a friend had really betrayed them. Obi-Wan on the other hand smiled grimly, somewhat reluctant to hold his tongue. The two young initiates both seemed so disheartened by the smuggler's departure. What they didn't know is that he would be back. The old Jedi had personally made sure of it.

"Ben," Luke called from behind him. The old man turned around and saw that Luke, Leia, and Carth had all stopped with R2-D2 and C-3P0. "I don't know if the droids will be able to make the trek through the forest."

"Oh my!" Threepio exclaimed. "Please don't abandon us sir!"

"We're not leaving you," the droid's master assured him. "I'm going to need a few minutes to build a raft or something."

Obi-Wan nodded and took a seat on a nearby fallen tree while he waited. He watched with mild interest as Luke began to look up at the branches of the trees, searching for strong ones that he could use to build whatever transport he was constructing for the two droids. His apprentice pulled his lightsaber from his belt and ignited it, proceeding to use it to slice acceptable branches from the trees.

Feeling that her skills would not be needed, Bastila decided to discuss the visions she had seen inside of Darth Vader's mind with the older Jedi. She sat down on the fallen tree beside him and the two looked at each other. Obi-Wan could feel the confusion inside of her and beckoned for her to speak with a gesture of his hand.

"You were Darth Vader's master before he fell to the dark side." It was a statement, not a question.

The old Jedi Master closed his eyes, wishing that the younger Jedi had not brought up the subject of his old apprentice, for the wounds that had opened nearly a generation ago had not closed. He simply nodded, not wanting to continue the conversation. Unfortunately, Bastila pressed the subject.

"How did he fall?" she asked.

The full answers to that question had never been revealed to Obi-Wan, so he didn't really know how to respond. He knew that Anakin Skywalker had been arrogant and over-confident in his abilities since he had been a young boy. The nine years of non-Jedi life that he had lived had probably contributed to his fall. The pain that he had endured on Tatooine must have been maddening. His apprentice had never really discussed the subject of his childhood with him, stating that the past was best left in the past. At the time, Obi-Wan had considered this to be a mark of wisdom but now he wished that he had pressed the subject.

In addition to being raised in a brutal environment, the boy had been separated from his mother at an age where children generally depended on their parents. Master Yoda had warned him that the boy wouldn't easily forget his only parent and that the memories he had of her would stay with him forever. He had been warned that separation from his mother could cause problems in the future but Obi-Wan had been a naïve padawan at the time. He had been too blinded by his promise to Qui-Gon to realize the danger of his decisions.

Still, the main reasons for Anakin's fall to the dark side hadn't occurred until the boy had been older. He had suffered at the hands of that maniac, Count Dooku. Despite the fact that he had been able to continue with his life quite normally after the loss of his arm, rage had burned inside of the boy's mind and he had felt a need for revenge. The fact that the man who would later become the Emperor had been filling his mind with dark and disturbing notions hadn't helped either. It was Anakin's connection with the Emperor that had proven most detrimental.

Anakin's relationship with Padmé had also been a key factor in the young man's fall, but Obi-Wan did not know to what extent. The senator had passed away before she had been able to shed much light on the subject and Anakin had been too overcome to stop and talk about it while they had been dueling on Mustafar. The old Jedi was not so blind to say that the affair had been a minimal part of the events that had cast the galaxy into the dark rut that it was in now, but he did not know and probably never would know the true extent of what Senator Amidala had meant to Anakin Skywalker.

The old Jedi realized that he had left Bastila without an answer and he simply shook his head. "He fell for many reasons," he stated slowly. "He was good man. It just goes to show what the dark side can do to the best of people."

Bastila nodded, deciding to change the subject. It was clear that Obi-Wan did not want to discuss the matter further and she would try again at a later time. "Why are we traveling through this forest?" she asked. "Princess Leia told us that we could have simply used the Rebel hangar."

"We are not going to rendezvous with the Rebellion quite yet," he replied. "First we must visit a very special place." Bastila frowned, wracking her brain for any significant locations on the surface of Yavin IV. The small moon had been taken over by Exar Kun in the days preceding the Mandalorian Wars, but she doubted that Obi-Wan was referencing anything so old. Again, she was mistaken. "An ancient Sith Lord was defeated here on Yavin," he stated.

"Exar Kun?" she inquired.

"Indeed," he replied.

Everything the Jedi had ever taught her about the infamous Sith Lord came to her mind as she attempted to see how he was connected to their current situation. Exar Kun had been an arrogant padawan learner who had often engaged in practice duels with other students that resulted in severe injury to his opponents. His master, Vodo-Siosk Baas, had attempted to teach him of humility and to see his own faults and weaknesses, but Kun had been far too arrogant. The lure of the dark side led him to proclaim himself a Jedi Knight before he ever passed any of the trials. He left the order, claiming that he intended to find a way to merge the dark side with the Jedi teachings and come out uncorrupted but was ultimately unsuccessful. His plan backfired and he fully immersed himself in the dark side of the Force on the planet Korriban.

From there, he had traveled to Yavin IV and enslaved the native Massassi people, forcing them to serve him as soldiers in his coming war. The alchemically created people were forced to erect grand structures and temples in Kun's honor. In fear of being overthrown, Kun began to hunt any Jedi or Dark Jedi that posed any threat to his power, starting with the Jedi Order. His war with led him to meet another fallen Jedi named Ulic Qel-Droma, who was forced to become his Sith apprentice after being defeated by the mad Jedi renegade.

Months after the Great Sith War had begun, Nomi Sunrider, Bastila's own Jedi Master, confronted Qel-Droma, whom she had fallen desperately in love with, after he had slain his own brother. Seeing no other alternative, Sunrider stripped Qel-Droma of the Force, releasing him from the dark side and leaving him a broken shell of the great man he had once been. No longer swayed by the darkness, Qel-Droma led the Republic forces against Kun on Yavin IV. In an attempt to save himself, he drained the entire Massassi race of their life force energy and transferred it to his own body. Many believed that this was an attempt at godhood but it hadn't worked. Kun had been completely vaporized by the amount of power that coursed through it, ending the Sith War before the Republic could even fire a single shot that day.

Frowning, Bastila could not see how visiting the Dark Lord's tomb would prove beneficial. Obi-Wan saw the expression on her face and smiled at her. He stood up and patted her on the shoulder. "You'll see," he said to her.

By this time, Luke, Carth, and Leia had completed a makeshift stretcher that could be used to pull the droids through the forest. It took only a few more minutes before R2 and C-3P0 were secured to it before they continued further.

In the four thousand years that had passed since the end of the Mandalorian Wars, the Palace of Mandalore had changed greatly. Darth Revan noted this as he walked through the halls of the grand building, escorted by two Mandalorians that were dressed in what looked like ceremonial black Neo-crusader armor. Each one held a banner that bore the Jaing Head symbol, the crest of the Mandalorians, in his left hand. Vibroblades hung from the left side of their hips and a Mandalorian repeating blaster rifle was strapped into a small harness that was lashed to their backs.

Royal guard members stood exactly four meters away from each other as Revan walked down the hallway towards the Chamber of Mandalore, where the leader of the Mandalorian clans awaited the Dark Lord. The former Jedi Knight noted with interest that although the palace surrounding him was equipped with more high tech security technology and contemporary decorations, the people had not changed significantly. The Mandalorians still gave off the same air of confidence and pride that he had felt during the wars and each one was watching him closely. He could feel their eyes burning into him, sizing him up in case he posed a threat to them.

The two escorts reached the circular door that separated the palace hall from the Chamber of Mandalore and stopped. They both took positions beside the door and one of them brought his wrist to his helmet. When he spoke, his voice was mechanically filtered by the protective head gear, similar to the way that Revan's Sith soldier's armor functioned and the way that his personalized mask worked.

"Mandalore, he's arrived," the honor guard reported.

Revan did not hear any response come from the Mandalorian's wrist communicator but it appeared that he had received one, for he lowered his wrist back to his side and nodded at him companion. They both stepped back to that their backs were against the walls and snapped off a salute to their guest. The circular door to their sides began to roll open and they gestured that he was allowed to enter.

The Dark Lord walked at a leisurely pace, examining his surroundings as he entered the chamber. It was a small circular room and the walls were made of murky colored duracrete bricks. It looked more like one of the huts that could be found on Tatooine rather than the sleeping quarters of the leader of the proudest race in the galaxy. Still, he had to admit that he was impressed. It was rare that he found another sovereign besides himself that was able to make due with Spartan living conditions.

Once he was done admiring the room, he turned to the three people that were inside of it. He frowned beneath his mask and folded his arms as he approached. He had expected to find only the Mandalore in the room. He could only assume that the middle aged man in the room was the current Mandalore, while the young woman and the small boy were his family.

The Lord of the Sith quickly analyzed the three Mandalorians with a smug look on his masked features. The man was probably in his mid fifties or so and was still in prime physical condition. He wore only crimson ceremonial robes, which was odd for the Mandalore. In his time, Revan had met two Mandalores and had seen holos of at least four others. He had never met one who was not dressed from head to toe in the thick, cumbersome armor that was traditionally donned during his coronation ceremony. Though it was unusual, it was also a pleasant relief. The Mandalorian clearly didn't consider him a threat, despite the fact that nearly one hundred medium and lightweight cruisers had followed the _Spirit of Revenge _to the Mandalore sector and were waiting in orbit for their leader to return.

As for his looks, the warrior leader was nothing special. He stood at just over six feet and was not overly large, nor small in build. His thick black hair had been pulled back into a pony-tail and the stubble that had formed on his chin had slight traces of gray in it. His eyes were a pleasant icy blue color and they were currently fixated on his guest with interest. It was clear that he was sizing Revan up the same way that the Dark Lord was sizing him up.

The Sith Lord's amber colored eyes flicked to the woman who was sitting with her legs crossed and her arms folded at a metal table in the center of the room. She was dressed only in a deep burgundy skin tight body suit and had a belt hanging from his thin waist. Exemplary of all Mandalorian women, she was in excellent physical condition and probably looked younger than she actually was. Judging by her appearance, Revan would have guessed that she was approximately twenty-five years of age, which probably meant that she was closer to thirty. She ran a hand through her jet black hair and folded her arms back over her ample chest. The Dark Lord had a feeling that she was trying to attract him to her with her exquisite physique in hopes that he would lower his guard but she would have no such luck. On a normal day, he would have laughed at such an attempt but at the moment he was so infuriated with the entire female race that it only made him smile grimly.

The last person in the room was a young boy, probably seventeen years old. This was probably the man's son. Revan noted with interest that not only was the boy the spitting image of his father, but he was also Force sensitive. In their long history, the Dark Lord had never known of a Mandalorian Force-user, though his knowledge was a few thousand years outdated, so it was possible that there had been a few.

After everyone had sized each other up, the current Mandalore offered a greeting. He stood up and extended his hand to his guest, which Revan shook firmly. "I am Gladius Vevut, leader of the Mandalorian people."

"My name is Darth Revan," the Sith Lord replied. "Dark Lord of the Sith and current Emperor of the Sith Empire."

Once the handshake was broken, Gladius gestured for Revan to be seated in a small metal chair that sat on the opposite end of the table. The Dark Lord complied and as a sign of good will, he removed the faceless mask that obscured his features. Having expected to meet nothing other than a helmed warrior, he had not thought it necessary to remove the mask and decided that it would be polite if he showed his face to the man that respected him enough to show him his.

"Forgive me," the Mandalorian said as he gestured to the woman and the boy. "This is Incendia Ordo," he said as the woman inclined her head just slightly. "She was born here on Mandalore and trained with the Honor Guard until she was eighteen. My predecessor chose her to be his personal bodyguard. I allowed her to keep the position once I became the Mandalore."

Noting the subtle glances the two cast at each other and the way Gladius spoke of the woman, it was clear to him that the two were mates. That aside, their auras seemed to carry traces of the others, signifying that the two of them made physical contact with one another on a regular basis. His ashen lips curled into a polite smile as he nodded at her in return and turned to the boy.

"This is my son, Vesica, the future Mandalore."

"Pleasure," Revan commented. "I didn't believe that the rank of Mandalore was passed through blood though."

Gladius laughed slightly at this and nodded. "It is not, my friend. We choose our leaders base on his individual worth, but I am confident that my son will be the one to take my place when I am gone."

"I see," the Dark Lord said with an understanding smile. "He seems to be a fine boy. I can sense his potential."

"High praise coming from a Sith Lord," the boy's father stated proudly.

"Indeed," Revan admitted. He liked this Mandalorian. He was a proud man but he was not arrogant. That was a drastic change from the Mandalore that he had slain in order to bring about the end of the Mandalorian Wars.

"Tell me," Mandalore said, his tone becoming serious and his smile vanishing. "I was led to believe that the Sith had become extinct. How is it that you are here and that you have a sizable armada orbiting my planet?"

"Forgive me," Revan pleaded genuinely. "They are merely here for my protection. I have no intentions of beginning a war with the Mandalorians."

"Then tell me why you are here, Darth Revan."

"It is a long story," the Dark Lord stated as he leaned back in his chair.

"Then we will need refreshments!" the man stated cheerfully. "Incendia, have the chefs bring us some food and the finest wine."

"Yes my lord," she stated as she stood up. "Come Vesica."

The boy hopped up and followed the Mandalorian bodyguard out of the circular room, leaving only the two leaders together. The Lord of the Sith had a feeling that the Mandalore had sent his mate and son away for a reason and he respected the decision. The less people that knew of his plan until the union between the Mandalorians and the Sith was official, the better.

"Please, Darth Revan, tell me your story," Gladius urged eagerly. "I am curious to know how your people have survived."

"Well the Sith have never been extinct, despite popular belief," the Dark Lord informed him. "Both Darth Vader and the Emperor himself are Sith Lords."

Gladius frowned, somewhat taken aback by this new information. In true Mandalorian fashion though, he hid his surprise quickly. "I was not aware of this," he stated.

"As for myself," he continued as if uninterrupted. "I was brought to this galaxy by an unexpected accident. I have only one fleet of men and I wish to stand against the Empire."

"Ah!" the Mandalorian exclaimed triumphantly. "So you have come to seek my aid in your struggle against the Empire!"

Revan nodded. "I have. Your people have been nearly forgotten, Mandalore. This is your chance to come back as heroes."

"My people aren't interested in heroics, Darth Revan," he pointed out. "Only honor."

"Well then look at the Empire," Revan returned evenly. "Is it an honorable empire, governed by a sovereign who allows freedom of thought and equality? Are all people secure in their livelihood or does the Empire select those that it prefers to serve in the higher positions? Mandalorians have long been known to be tolerant of all sentient species, yet this Empire is the polar opposite, segregating those who are not human and passing laws that forbid aliens from holding certain political offices. Is the Empire honorable?"

Gladius laughed mightily as he cast his head back. "You are a wise man, Darth Revan," he stated affectionately. "You are right. The Mandalorians do despite the Empire and all it stands for, yet we are a small portion of the galaxy. What hopes do we have against such a mighty beast as the Galactic Empire?"

The former Jedi Knight clenched his fists melodramatically and narrowed his amber eyes at his host. "Your words shame the memory of your people, Gladius Vevut!" he said boldly as he stood up, knocking over his chair in the process. His strong words had the intended effect on the Mandalorian. It was quite apparent that anger was surging through him and that he was ready to throttle Revan, but the Dark Lord began his tirade before an attack was made. "Let me tell you of the most glorious days of the Mandalorians!" Revan thundered, his voice reverberating off the walls of the small room. "There was a time when the Mandalorians were feared throughout the galaxy! Their culture was no larger than yours is now, yet they nearly managed to bring the galaxy to its knees! The Republic was nearly lost to their might! The only thing that stood between the Mandalorians and ultimate victory was a Jedi Knight named Revan!" Gladius's shock at hearing the name was crystal clear on his face, but the Dark Lord didn't stop. "He and his forces were all that could save the Republic from the terrible fury of your people. Even in the last moments of the war that shook the galaxy to its very core, Mandalore the Ultimate fought with courage and honor! You shame his very name by speaking of your people in such pathetic terms! You are their leader! You should be the one to don the Helm of Mandalore and bring them glory and honor as they deserve! Hunt down the corruption that runs rampant in the galaxy and let the name of your people be sung throughout the galaxy once again."

Gladius was utterly stunned by the burning conviction in Revan's voice and by his knowledge of what had occurred during the Mandalorian Wars. He was also stunned by the fact that this Sith Lord and the Jedi that had slain his ancestors so many years previously had the same name. Was it merely a coincidence or had the Jedi Knight Revan truly found the path to immortality? A deep rumbling was emitted from the Mandalorian leader's throat and he stood up quick, extending his hand to Revan.

"By the ancient line of Mandalores and by the honor of the Mandalorian people, we will see to the destruction of this foul empire!"

Revan smiled in satisfaction and shook Gladius's hand for the second time. He could see the fire burning in the man's eyes and knew that his short speech had won him over, heart and soul. He, the Sith Lord that had started out with just one small fleet of outdated star ships, now had the entire Mandalorian armada behind him, along with all of the most advanced war technology that the warrior culture had developed independently of the Empire. Once both of the fleets mobilized, it would be time to begin his conquest of the outer rim.


	7. Past

**The Darkest Lord  
Chapter VII: What Should have Stayed in the Past**

Luke Skywalker now understood why Obi-Wan Kenobi had chosen to setback their progress towards the Rebel base as he looked down at the base of the temple that had been erected by the enslaved Massassi people in order to serve as a tomb for the Dark Lord that had held them in thrall. Despite numerous disagreements with Princess Leia, the old Jedi Master had firmly stated that their delay would prove beneficial to the Rebellion. For this reason alone, the princess had held her tongue and quietly agreed that she would accompany them on the expedition, though she had remained skeptical. The small group had trekked through the forest for two days, R2-D2 and C-3P0 in tote the entire way. During their hike through the woods of Yavin IV, Luke had attempted to question his master about the temple they were proceeding to several times.

"It would be best not to discuss the matter until we've arrived," the Jedi Master had responded each time.

Now, as he gazed at the pyramid shaped structure, he saw that a small group consisting of six golden clad soldiers and one robed figure, had already settled at its base. Two of the men in golden armor were acting as perimeter guards and each one held an archaic looking blaster rifle in his gloved hands. These two were the only ones that had donned their helmets, whilst the others sat comfortably around a small campfire, their helms resting on the ground beside them. Luke frowned. All of them seemed to be in high spirits and the two who were combing the area were supposed to keeping watch seemed relaxed, as if they did not expect any sort of threat to approach them. They did not seem to be in the least bit concerned that there was a Rebel outpost just three kilometers from their position.

Aside from the small group below, Luke felt something strange about the temple. Obi-Wan had warned him that the Force would be strong around Exar Kun's tomb, though to the young moisture farmer, this had only meant that the strange tugging feeling in the pit of his stomach that the Force was responsible for would only intensify. This was not the case however. While that sensation was still present, there was something else. It was twisted and dark, the way that he had felt when he had seen Darth Vader aboard the Death Star but there was more to it than that. He felt as if something was watching them.

Turning at the sound of harsh whispering, Luke became aware of the fact that both Bastila and Carth seemed greatly disturbed by the presence of the small group that sat before the temple. His thoughts disrupted, the young man watched closely as the two seemed to be communicate silently with each other, utilizing sharp hand gestures and signals in place of their voices. At last, Bastila nodded. Addressing the entire group, the recently promoted Jedi Knight jerked her head back towards the path that had led them to the temple, indicating that they should follow her. As she moved, she kept her head down and remained in a hunched over position, as to avoid casting any shadows on the temple walls or grounds. Luke, Leia, and Obi-Wan followed her back the way they came, while Carth stayed behind, maintaining a crouched position behind some shrubbery in order to cover himself.

The Republic commander pulled his blaster pistol from its holster on his though, keeping it in a low ready position just in case. His eyes moved among the group of Sith soldiers that were surrounding the small fire, believing that there was a chance he would recognize one of them. Despite the fact that the numbers of the Sith Empire had swelled since Darth Revan had returned to known space, Carth had occasionally met an old friend that he had known during the Mandalorian Wars on the field of battle. War was not personal. It was one of the first things that he had been taught at the academy when he had been a cadet. War was never supposed to be personal. Still, the sting of betrayal that he had felt when a third of the men that he had known betrayed their oaths to protect the Republic had been devastating. Fate had insisted that the battle would become a personal issue for him.

In an act of pure malice, Darth Malak had ordered a newly promoted lieutenant to bombard his home world as a way of testing his loyalty. The officer in question, Saul Karath, had been born on the planet Telos, the same place planet that Carth had been born on. During the Mandalorian Wars, before the Jedi had intervened, Karath had been the lieutenant that had been in charge of Carth's platoon. The two had immediately formed a connection, being that they had grown up in the same sector of Telos, though they had never met before the younger of the two had joined the Republic Navy. Despite the fact that Saul had been his commanding officer, they had become close friends. Carth had only been a grunt in those days and he began to idolize Commander Karath as more than mortal.

After the war, Saul had told Carth that he was planning on following Revan into the unknown regions to hunt down the remaining Mandalorian clans that had fled after the Republic's victory at Malachor V. He had stated that young officers like Carth, who was now a lieutenant himself, needed to remain behind should Revan's fleet be destroyed and the Mandalorians returned. At the time, the younger soldier had been honored by his friend's faith in him. He had sworn an oath, separate from his oath as a soldier, to make Saul proud. Karath had left and Carth had expected never to see the man he had viewed as his mentor ever again.

Unfortunately, he had been wrong. When Revan had returned to the Republic under the banner of the Sith, the young soldier had been more than certain that his friend had been killed. If there had been a mutiny among the Republic fleet, Saul would have been at the front of it. He would have fought against the Dark Lord himself before he betrayed his oath and all the people he had left behind. For months after the war had begun, Carth had fought against the Sith with his memories of Saul fueling his resolve. Revan's betrayal had stolen his leader from him. His war with the Sith had become a personal one, despite all of the training he had received.

While the war had raged, the Republic forces had concentrated all of their efforts on fighting Darth Revan, while Malak had gone unnoticed. The Sith Apprentice, in a demonstration of his power and ruthlessness, had ordered the destruction of one of the Republic's few civilized planets along the outer rim: Telos. A small number of Sith warships had bombarded the planet, leveling entire cities and killing millions. The population had been reduced by ninety-three percent in less than an hour. The Republic forces had moved to aid the planet as quickly as they could but it had been too late. The Sith had already fled and Telos had been lost.

Carth had been a part of the recovery team that had been sent to Telos. There had been almost nothing worth salvaging though. All advanced military outposts had been destroyed and there had been no special projects being conducted beneath the planet's surface. His own family had been lost in the attack. His wife, Morgana, had died in his arms in the decimated streets. His son, Dustil, had never been found.

For some time, the loss of Telos and his family had only compounded the pain he felt from losing Saul, but things got even worse. While on personal leave, the Republic lieutenant had seen something on the holonet. Saul Karath had successfully managed to infiltrate a Republic recording studio that broadcasted his message to every channel of the holonet and holovision. Carth had been horrified to see that his mentor had survived and was now working for Darth Malak. It made him sick to see what the man he had respected more than any other in the military had become. A Jedi Mind Healer had told him that despite his lack of sensitivity to the Force, the dark side had consumed Saul. The Republic officer had refused to believe this though. The Force didn't control everything that was that the Jedi believed and preached. There was no supernatural deity that had ruined his life. It had been greed.

More than two years after the war began, Carth, who had been promoted to the rank of Commander, had still not fulfilled his need for revenge. If Saul Karath ever made the mistake of crossing his path, it would end in a bloody fashion. The traitor would be made to pay severely for what he had done. Every time he met the Sith on the field of battle, he hoped to find his old mentor. He always checked the list of names among the records of those who perished in battle but he had never found Saul. To the best of his knowledge, his former friend had survived. It was even possible that he had been a part of the Sith fleet that had jumped forward in time. It was more than possible. It was probable. There was no good explanation that Carth could give for his feeling, but he knew that his enemy had come forward in time with him and that there was still a chance to have his revenge.

"Carth."

The commander turned around, seeing Princess Leia standing behind him with a blaster pistol in hand. She came to kneel beside him and nodded. Out of the corner of his eye, Carth saw that Bastila, Luke, and Obi-Wan had moved into different positions around the camp.

"Now!" Bastila cried from her hiding place.

A loud _snap-hiss _sound filled the air as three lightsabers activated simultaneously. The three Jedi descended upon the small Sith unit, cutting down the golden armored soldiers with little effort. They had been caught off-guard and were ill prepared to deal with such a swift and terrible foe.

Before Bastila could stop him, the robed figure that had been in command of the small Sith force ignited his crimson hued lightsaber and launched an attack at Bastila. The former Jedi padawan was more than ready though. With only one end of her saberstaff active, she spun around and caught the attack on his blade. The Dark Jedi, a relatively large man, attempted to use brute physical force to overpower her but this proved unsuccessful. The Jedi Knight planted her feet and held her ground well, using the Force to augment her more feminine muscles.

The Dark Jedi snarled at her viciously as he finally broke off his attack. Hoping that he would be more successful using the Force to his advantage, he hurled numerous pieces of burning firewood from their camp fire at his opponent. He did not however, use the Force to guide his attack and it missed her by some distance. Bastila extended her arm towards her foe, unleashing a wave of Force energy that crashed down on him like the waters of Manaan. The dark Force user let out a grunt of shock as the attack knocked him off his feet and he was sent sprawling, his lightsaber rolling away from him.

Bastila quickly called the fallen blade to her hand and ignited it, switching to an awkward Jar Kai stance. The Dark Jedi quickly caught the imperfections in her stance, smiled. The hilt of her double bladed weapon was about three times longer than that of a standard lightsaber, making it difficult to wield along with another weapon. He also noticed that Luke, who was finishing off the rest of the soldiers with Obi-Wan, did not seem to have complete control of the Force that was whirling within him.

"Idiots," he muttered as he extended his hand towards the younger man.

Before Luke could even realize what was happening, the cerulean colored blade was ripped from his hand and sailed into that of his companion's opponent. Bastila moved to attack, but the awkwardness of her own style got the better of her. It slowed her down and he was able to deliver a powerful kick to breastbone before she could bring the two blades towards her. Both of the weapons fell from her hands as she clutched at her sore chest, allowing the tenacious Dark Jedi to recall his fallen weapon, but not before transferring Luke's to his offhand.

"Come on, Jedi!" he jeered at Bastila. "Face me!"

Obi-Wan, being the only one armed to face such an opponent stepped forward. He pulled his blade back into the traditional stance of a Soresu practitioner and prepared for battle. The Dark Jedi seemed ready to enter combat with the old man but something he had not anticipated happened.

Luke attacked him.

With no regard for his own safety, the moisture farmer threw himself at the Dark Jedi, feeling the need to reclaim the weapon that had once belonged to his father. They were both on the ground now and the younger man grabbed both of the Sith warrior's wrists, making it impossible for him to strike with either of the lightsabers.

"What is this?" the Dark Jedi cried when he could not overpower the young man.

He didn't realize that by stealing the only item that his father had left him, he had ignited a flaming rage inside the young padawan. His pale gray eyes widen when he realized that he was actually being overpowered by the youth that had him pinned to the ground. It was shocking, considering both his control of the Force and his intense military training. The boy was literally tapping into his raw Force power in order to reach the same level of strength that it had taken him years of training and two wars to reach. The two wrestled for a moment before Carth raced towards them. He dropped to one knee and pointed his blaster at the Dark Jedi's head, forcing him to stop struggling.

"Drop them," the commander ordered, nudging the man's head with his blaster for added effect.

Knowing that he was finished, the Dark Jedi sighed loudly. Both blades retracted into their respective hilts before he let them fall to the ground. Luke quickly grabbed his own and then the second one, keeping a firm grip on them this time. He stood up and walked over to Obi-Wan, turning the Sith weapon over to the older Jedi.

Bastila, who was still on the ground from the blow that had been dealt to her, was groaning loudly. Leia was kneeling beside her, trying to sooth her in anyway that she could but she knew that it was just a matter of time before the soreness faded. Having been struck in the chest several times by dirty fighting Imperials, she knew how painful it could be and that there was no real way to stop the pain except to wait it out.

The Dark Jedi slowly got to his feet as both Luke and Obi-Wan approached him, the tips of their azure sabers pointed at the beaten man. Carth stepped back, but he did not lower his guard, choosing instead to return his blaster to a low ready position. The three men surrounded the black clad Force user, while the women stayed behind in order to recover.

"Who are you?" Carth demanded as he raised his blaster to get his point across.

The Dark Jedi licked his lips, unsure of what he should do. His men were dead and he was alone against three Jedi and two armed soldiers. He glanced around, hoping to find something that he could use to his advantage but there was nothing. He was beaten. Sith protocol dictated that he was supposed to suicide if there was no escape from capture and it seemed that he was in just such a state, though he hesitated. There was a small vibrodagger on the back of his belt, which was obscured from view by his black cloak. These Jedi wouldn't be able to stop him before he was able to take the blade to his own heart.

The decision was taken out of all of their hands. Princess Leia was the one who took decisive action. Knowing that the Rebels would be capable of implementing more effective means of interrogation, she set her blaster pistol to stun mode and fired a charged shot at the Dark Jedi's chest. He yelped in shock at what had happened before the electrical charges began to disrupt the neural signals that his brain sent to the rest of his body, effectively turning him into a vegetable temporarily. Leia's weapon was outdated, however, and the effects would not last long. The Dark Jedi would awaken within twenty minutes, meaning that they had to move to get him to the Rebel outpost with all possible speed.

"We need to move fast," she declared, ignoring the stunned look on her companions' faces. "The Rebels will be able to make him talk, but we need to hurry. He won't stay out long and I don't think my power pack has another charge left in it." The ache in Bastila's chest had faded enough for her to stand and she moved to stand beside Leia. "Are you alright?" her soon to be apprentice asked her.

The Jedi nodded. "I'm fine," she replied, despite some strain in her voice.

"Are you sure?" Luke inquired to make sure. "I mean he kicked you pretty hard."

She shook her head and indicated the paralyzed body on the floor. "Just move him onto the platform, with the droids," she ordered. "Let's go."

Luke Skywalker hadn't been wrong earlier when he had sensed that someone had been watching the group. Someone had been watching them ever since they had come onto the grounds of the pyramid shaped tomb, though he had been specifically paying attention to Bastila Shan and Obi-Wan Kenobi due to their obvious Force sensitivity. However, his focus was drawn away from them when he observed the short exchange between Luke and the Dark Jedi.

The boy, though he had seemed so weak and insignificant in the Force, had overpowered the Dark Jedi with minimal effort and he had done it all by tapping into raw Force energy that he had kept hidden until that point. At first, this onlooker had believed Luke to be a powerful Jedi Master but he quickly changed his mind when he studied the boy. First of all, he was too young. The youngest Jedi Master ever appointed had been in her early thirties, or the alien equivalent, while this child could not have been more than twenty. The next reason was more compelling to believe. While the two that were dressed in Jedi attire had permanent mental shields raised, a sign of Jedi training, the boy did not. His mind was an open book and it had already cost him dearly, though he did not know it.

The dark being who had seen the battle with the small band of Sith forces had walked into the boy's mind, taking note of everything he observed. The boy's name was Luke Skywalker, son of a Jedi Knight named Anakin Skywalker and an unknown woman. He had been born on an unknown planet and brought to Tatooine by his uncle, Owen Lars to be raised as a moisture farmer. Owen and his wife, Beru, had recently been killed by Imperial forces, which had prompted Luke to join Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi in an endeavor to aid a princess named Leia, who was not traveling with the boy as a companion. Luke and Kenobi had hired a pilot named Han Solo to take them to Alderaan, which had perished recently because of an Imperial superstation. While aboard the station, Luke and Solo had rescued the princess and reunited with Kenobi. During their attempt to flee, they also met with Bastila Shan and Carth Onasi, who were soldiers for the Galactic Republic that had traveled forward in time four thousand years. Solo had dropped the group off here on Yavin, where they were planning on joining the Rebel Alliance.

The dark apparition frowned as he watched the group go. "Jedi from my time?" he wondered aloud as he glanced at Bastila. "That's interesting." Still, the girl did not interest him. The boy who had delved so deeply into the Force was all that he cared for. Skywalker's body would make an excellent host for a spirit that had lied dormant for more than four millennia.

Mina Takhisis stared through the glass windows that separated her from the medical bay of the Star Forge, wondering how her droids had failed her so miserably. On the other side of the glass, Dr. Dansig, a Quarren physician who generally served aboard the _Spirit of Revenge, _though he had temporarily been transferred to the Star Forge, was performing a routine medical pre-release examination on Traya, who had completely recovered from her experiences in the lower levels of the Rakatan monument. A day in a kolto tank had quickly rid the old woman of all injuries, both internal and external, meaning that she would be fit to return to duty within a matter of hours.

Well, not quite. Mina wouldn't allow that to happen. She started towards the door that would lead into the examination room. The glass slid away silently, allowing her to enter. Both Traya and Dr. Dansig looked up at her. The doctor didn't pay much attention to her and continued looking over the report that had been made regarding his patient before the case had been turned over to him. The Sith Lady on the other hand, made no attempt to hide a scowl. Her ashen lips curled in disgust, which Mina returned with a pleasant smile.

"Revan will be pleased to hear that you are doing well, Lady Traya," she said politely, though the venom was clear in her tone.

Traya's atrophied eyes narrowed at the girl, already sensing the dark intentions behind her presence. Mina smiled. She was truly looking forward to this. Her interaction with Revan the night that she had been reborn had been her body's first test. This confrontation with Traya would be the second one.

"Doctor, would you excuse us for one moment," the exile asked the alien sternly. Her words carried a veiled threat with them which was apparent to the Quarren's ears instantly, though he did not budge.

"This woman is my patient," he stated firmly in his strange alien tongue. "It would be abandonment to leave her for any reason before she has been certified for release."

Mina rolled her eyes, somewhat amused that Revan had actually managed to locate a medical officer that had a sense of honor and one that would not flee from his duties the moment a threat was made to him. Still, the exile had always considered honor to be a foolish thing. In her opinion, it was simply a hindrance and quite honestly a weakness that was quite simple to exploit. For example, it had cost this Quarren his life.

The reborn Jedi's face held no emotion whatsoever as she extended her hand towards the alien and tendrils of white lightning ripped from her fingertips. The electric currents engulfed him and his body began to convulse violently. He started to screech loudly, his strange alien vocal cords filling up with strange fluids naturally secreted by his throat. The electricity began to burn through him quickly. Mina stopped her assault but it had already done its job. The currents that still surged through the aquatic creature's body caused it to keel over and let a slow and quite painful death take him.

Once she had dealt with the medic, she turned back to Traya, who was not in the least bit surprised with the reborn Jedi's betrayal. The Sith Lady hopped off of the examination table and reached into her robes in order to draw her lightsaber. Mina did the same and the two eyes each other for a moment.

"Killing me will only bring Revan's rage down upon you, Takhisis," the old woman warned. "He will not look kindly on this betrayal."

"This coming from the woman who has been christened the Lord of Betrayals?" she responded quickly. "It is the way of the Sith to kill for power, Kreia. You, a historian, should know better. Those who cannot protect themselves deserve to fall. Thus only the strongest will survive and only those most worthy will lead."

"Revan knows that there is more to power than sheer force," Traya responded. "Though my age has made me less of a physical asset than I once was, I have become one of his most loyal and useful servants over the years. Killing me will not bring you his love."

"I do not care for Revan's love, you old hag!" Mina snarled.

This was a lie. Mina knew it. Traya knew it. The girl had refused to pass into the Force for more than four thousand years because of her infatuation with the Dark Lord. Stating that she had any other motivations than her misplaced obsession with her lover was an obvious fallacy. Traya's lips twisted into an amused smile. As she had stated previously, there was more to power than sheer force. Sometimes it wasn't the one with the most brute strength that would prevail. Every brute had some sort of weakness that could be exploited. It had been in the Dark Lady's experience that it was often times the one who hid his or her flaws that would emerge victorious from any conflict. Having suffered much because of her shortcomings in the past, Traya had become a master of keeping them obscured in the present.

"It is such a strange thing, to fall in love," the old woman said thoughtfully as she approached the younger one. "It blinds us to what is clearly in front of us. It hinders us; makes us too weak to do what is necessary. Revan knows this. He has realized that your existence and his feelings for you have become a burden. Soon enough, he will have the strength he needs to cut you out of his life like the cancer that you are."

Fury, pure and unadulterated, erupted within the exiled Jedi Knight. It boiled to the surface within seconds and was about to explode in every direction. The exile ignited her lightsaber and lunged at the Sith Lady. These feelings didn't emerge because Traya would even suggest such a thing. It was not due to the fact that the woman didn't know of what she was speaking. The reason that the Sith Lady's words hurt her was that deep down, she knew that it was true. Revan had been different since she had returned. In the initial moments after her return, he had been filled with joy to see her but that had soon changed. Once he had used her and released years of pent up stress, pressure, and longing, the Dark Lord had been a little more clear minded in regards to her. He had not so much sent her a single look indicating that he wanted to be with her since that night. She had refused to turn over the Star Forge to him because she knew that he would no longer need her if he controlled it himself. It was a desperate act to force him to want her and it was failing.

Traya had expected such a rash move from the Jedi exile and had been prepared. She countered by igniting one of her lilac toned sabers and brining it up to catch her opponent's. The crazed Jedi was physically stronger than the older woman, though her energies were not focused. Traya was able to use the Force to augment the strength within her aged and withered muscles, while Mina was too blinded to focus. The result was an almost even deadlock. No matter how hard she tried, the reborn exile could not overpower her lover's former master and at the same time.

"You are a fool," Traya taunted. "You are so blinded by a one sided love that you will destroy everything that stands in your path."

Mina didn't respond. She knew the old woman's mind games. She had played them enough when she had been a padawan on Coruscant. She was wiser now. Manipulations and mind tricks wouldn't work on her. She broke off her attack and ducked out of the way to avoid a horizontal sweep from the violet saber. The young woman kicked the older one in the knee, forcing her to lose her footing. Traya avoided a killing strike from the exile's silver blade by unleashing a powerful Force wave in every direction. Beakers, test tubes, and jars throughout the medical station shattered and all of the beds were overturned. The exile went flying.

Years of battle experience were all that let Mina land gracefully on her feet at the other end of the room. However, the distance between them was all that Traya needed in order to gain the upper hand. Using her mind, Traya gathered all of the broken glass shards in the room and hurled them at the exile. Mina saw the attack and her emerald colored eyes widened. Quickly, she extended her arm and another volley of Force lightning shot towards the Sith Lady.

The electricity caused most of the glass to turn to dust, however a few shards managed to penetrate her electric barrier and pierce her skin. She winced as the glass painfully entered her left arm, her lower stomach, her waist, and her knee. Traya on the other hand, had a much easier time defending herself from the exile's Force attack. Bringing up her violet blade to defend herself, the old woman soaked up almost all of the attack with her weapon. A smile crossed her lips as she watched Mina pull glass out of her body. The black robes she wore were noticeably darker in the stomach area, indicating that the shard that had struck her abdomen had gone deeper than the others.

"I'm going to kill you," the exile restated angrily as she placed a hand on her bleeding stomach.

Traya smirked. It was clear that she was not afraid of this girl in the least bit, which Mina was well aware of and very angry about. "I'm the best swordswoman you'll ever know, you old hag!" the exile boasted. "I will kill you!"

Using the Force to augment her speed, Mina rushed towards Traya, her silver lightsaber a glowing blur as she swung madly. Traya had almost no time to think before her enemy was upon her. She quickly calculated her options. Mina was an impatient girl and that could be exploited. She was trying to end the fight quickly, rather than drag it out in hopes of breaking the old woman's spirit before finishing her. That meant that the longer the fight went on, the more frustrated the exile would become and the larger Traya's advantage would be.

Traya quickly began to defend herself using the third form of lightsaber combat: Soresu. The Resilience Form's quick strokes and rapid movements that were kept close to the body weaved an impenetrable shield around the old woman, making her nearly invincible. There were no openings that the exile could attack and so all of her strikes were deflected by the violet lightsaber.

As the Lord of Betrayals had predicted, this tactic quickly agitated her enemy and Mina began to get sloppy. Her attacks began brutish and she left herself wide open to attack on several occasions. Believing that the duel was over, Traya attempted to exploit an open area and tried to stab Mina through the stomach. It was pure luck that allowed the exile to survive. Her next attack had been a diagonal slash that had caused her to side step the attack. The exile's heart skipped a beat when she realized that Traya was wide open. Her arm was still extended in a stabbing motion. Mina's lips curled into a smirk as she brought her silver lightsaber down, severing the old woman's hand from her wrist.

Pain exploded through the Dark Lady's wrist and quickly shot up her arm, spreading through her entire body. The exile cackled as she looked at the lightsaber that was still clutched in the lifeless hand on the ground. She had won. The old woman had faltered. She kicked the kinrath whore in the stomach and swept her outwards, causing her to be thrown to her knees.

Traya looked up at the young woman, her teeth clenched together in agony. Her muscles were tense and she knew that she had lost. She cursed herself inwardly for making such a childish mistake. Her guard had been impenetrable until she had dropped it and left herself just as wide open as the exile. The Force was already starting to rush towards the wrist area, alleviating some of the pain, but it was impossible to numb herself to it.

Still, she would not give Mina the satisfaction of seeing her beg or die easily. She sat up, using her good hand to prop herself up, and looked directly into her murderer's shining emerald colored eyes. The exile had a wide smile on her lips and she approached, her lightsaber extended. The tip of the blade almost touched the old woman's chin, causing her to gulp loudly.

She brought her blade up for the killing strike, preparing to decapitate the old woman. Traya's eyes closed as she prepared to meet death head on. Mina didn't bother with any last taunting words. She simply started to bring her lightsaber down towards Revan's former master's neck.

All Traya heard was a sudden yelp, a loud crashing sound, and the noise made by a lightsaber when it deactivated. She turned around and to her surprise, Darth Malak was standing at the entrance of the medical bay, arms folded. Behind him, outside of the room, four golden armored Sith soldiers stood behind him. The Sith Lord turned to one of them and jerked his head towards Traya. The man indicated stepped into the room, pushing his blaster rifle into the specially made harness on his back.

"By the Force," Traya muttered, knowing that the boy she loathed so much had just saved her life.

"Traya," Malak's mechanical voice said coldly. "Are you alright?"

"I'll live," she replied dryly.

"You bastard!"

Both of the Sith Lords glanced at Mina, who was pulling herself to her feet angrily. "I would have expected you to stay out of my way, Malak!" she snarled. "You hate her as much as I do!"

"But I am loyal to Revan," he returned evenly as he unfolded his arms. He turned to the soldier he had called into the room and nodded.

The armored trooper walked over to the injured woman and knelt down beside her. Before he could intervene, Mina started towards him, but was quickly thrown back by an invisible force that came from Malak's hand. The exile crashed into an overturned medical bed and Traya could hear the cold machine like chuckle coming from the Dark Lord's voice replicator. Once the reborn Jedi was subdued, the Sith trooper next to Traya hoisted her up into his arms. The old woman gasped indignantly but the soldier did not set her down. He stood up, turned away, and walked out of the room.

Once she was clear of the room, the other three soldiers came in, harnessing their blasters as well. "What are you doing, Malak?" Mina asked as she stood up, throwing the bed she crashed into aside with the Force.

"What I should have during the Mandalorian Wars," he stated coldly as he turned away.

Mina's eyes darted from soldier to soldier as they pulled small spherical shaped objects from their belts. Each one hurled his orb at the exile and she realized that they were all thermal detonators. Her eyes widened and she tried to use the Force to hurl them back at the three soldiers, but from outside, Malak kept them right were they were planted on the ground.

"Goodbye," he sneered as his men filed out of the room.

Mina's scream pierced through the air, chilling the spines of the four soldiers who had aided Darth Malak in her defeat, though the Dark Lord and Lady Traya were both unaffected. In fact, both were rather pleased when the thermal detonators went off and the medical ward was engulfed in a loud explosion. Flames erupted out of the window and doors that had been made of glass, causing Traya to wince from the heat.

Once the Sith soldier set her down, Traya stood up and folded her arms over her chest. "Good riddance," she muttered with a wide grin on her lips.


	8. It Begins

**The Darkest Lord  
Chapter VIII: It Begins**

Alzac was a serene world. Its vast landscape was filled with sprawling fields that were teeming with life. Plants of various rich colors grew amongst the trees in the forests. Small animals ran wildly through the jungle. For the most part, this nature was undisturbed by the presence of higher intelligence. This was because the surface, though beautiful to look upon, was deadly. Even the friendliest looking of creatures could bear its teeth and become vicious if disturbed. Swarms of venomous insects and arachnids were indigenous to the area and there had been many fatalities during the initial attempts at colonization near the beginning of the Empire. All attempts at fumigation had been a failure due to a seeming imperviousness to gas of any variety. Scientists could only assume that this was because the high chlorine concentration in the air had strengthened the native flora and fauna against gas based attacks.

Still, the Emperor had been determined in his plan to have the planet as his own. Billions of credits and thousands of hours of man labor had led to the production of a floating cities just four miles above the planet's surface. Settlers from various refugee planets, such as Nar Shadaa and the outer rim had been hired to populate these grand cities, which many had eagerly agreed to. Why wouldn't they? Their choice had been either to remain as refugees on a planet that had a much higher mortality rate than survival rate or they could travel to a planet where they would be clothed, fed, and provided for in anyway that they wanted, while enjoying a remarkable view just outside of their bedrooms. There had been no seeable downside to this plan at the time. Now many of the people were beginning to realize that they may have made a mistake. Their old enemies of hunger and cold were gone, only to be replaced by the bitter talons of unrealistic taxes and Imperial tyranny. At least on Nar Shaddaa they had been free.

Once the colonization had begun, the Emperor had named a man that served him, Ji Taaak to be the governor, for which he had received no objections. It had been peaceful for a time. Schools had been set up for young people to attend while various job positions needed to be filled in order maintain the colonies. With a little Imperial funding, the men and women who had once been members of the lowest class in the galaxy had become productive members of society and had been able to provide for themselves. Governor Taaak became quite popular amongst his people. During his second term in office, he had purposed an investigation of the planet's surface. Former refugees that had studied at the planet's academy of science had been intrigued by the proposal and many of them had volunteered. None of them had imagined what they would discover.

In the northern hemisphere of the life filled world, an ancient structure had been found. Time had long since eroded away all valuables that may have once lied within but the historical significance had yet to be determined. Upon hearing about a structure of unknown origin, Governor Taaak hired a team of explorers to conduct a thorough search of the structure. As it was, there was no historical evidence that could be determined by studying it but something much more important was discovered. One surveyor had inhaled some of the pollen of one of the flowers and when she had done so, the plant had emitted a strange chemical spray that put her into a coma for months. After that time had passed, her heart shut down and she passed away in her sleep.

In his monthly report, Governor Taaak had sent a copy of the field report, as well a summary of the surface investigation. The Emperor had been intrigued and had demanded that the pollen be investigated so that it could be incorporated into bio-weaponry. Despite Taaak's protests that it was too dangerous and the loss of four surveyors in the initial study of the strange ruins, the Emperor was resolute. He simply would not see reason and demanded that the people of Alzac begin to study and harvest the plants.

Grudgingly, Taaak set up a small harvesting plant on the surface. His researchers began to study the effects of different pollens and spores on various rodents and other mammals in order to ascertain which ones would be useful to the Empire. Unfortunately, his highness the Emperor believed that the Alzac researchers were working too slowly. In paranoia, he decided that Taaak was withholding information in order to develop biological weapons for himself.

The Emperor ordered his forces to take over Alzac and the colonies. Taaak was stripped of his rank and thrown in prison while one of Darth Sidious's Dark Prophets became the interim governor. Within days, three new harvesting plans were under construction, along with research facilities and small weapon manufacturing plants. Several of the former refugees were replaced with Imperial scientists and biologists, effectively forcing nearly two percent of the planet's population into unemployment. Furthermore, the Emperor decided that the people of Alzac had overstayed their free stay in the galaxy. Taxes increased sharply. Before, adults had been forced to pay only about ten percent of their weekly salary to the Empire. Within weeks, a new bill had been passed that had increased that number to almost seventy-five.

Needless to say, the population of the hovering cities were more than discontent with the current state of affairs. The new governor was a strict enforcer of the Emperor's will. More than twenty civilians had been publicly executed within the first month and many more had followed. According to the holonet, they had refused to pay their taxes to the planetary government but simple negotiations had resolved the problem and they were now being cooperative. This was not the case. The Dark Prophet had spread these rumors for two reasons. One was to avoid any rumors of Imperial misconduct make their way into the galaxy and the other was to raise his own image in the public eye. If he could so easily resolve a dispute of such a colossal scale, then just maybe the Emperor would grant him even more power.

Above the planet's surface, three Mandalorian Dreadnaughts and several Mandalorian Corvette's orbited the planet's atmosphere's, unnoticed by the Imperial forces below. The main dreadnaught, the one that belonged to a Mandalorian senior officer named Kalius Fett, was set to lead the planetary assault. The capital ships in orbit were meant to act as an impasse, making it impossible for any TIE fighters to escape or any shuttles to ferry Imperial officials off world. Meanwhile, shuttles would transport the Mandalorian forces, as well as Darth Revan and Gladius Vevut to the floating city.

Aboard the bridge of Kalius Fett's ship, the Dark Lord of the Sith and the current Mandalore stood, along with the veteran Mandalorians who would be leading the assault. Seven different cities were scattered across the planet and each one was a fair distance away from one another. They would have to break into seven different squads and liberate them simultaneously. Gladius would be leading the largest of the groups to the main city, which was larger than the rest, while Revan accompanied him. The other six units would be comprised of senior Mandalorians with experienced warlords acting as commanders.

Kalius Fett brought up a small holoreadout of the main city for the current Mandalore to observe. The government building was in the very center, surrounding by four skyscrapers that acted as lookouts. Turbolasers had been installed atop each of these buildings, which would make it difficult for the Mandalorian drop ships to bring them directly to the Dark Prophet. Instead, they would have to enter the atmosphere several hundred miles away and come up under the belly of the hover platform that supported the city. From there, a Basilisk wardroid would be used to drill a hole into the platform, enabling them to enter the city undetected. Once inside, it would be a simple task to take the capital building, kill the Dark Prophet, reinstall Ji Taaak as the governor, and establish friendly relations with the planet.

Revan considered all of this as the Mandalorian explained this plan to all of the leaders that were gathered. His arms were folded and beneath his mask, his face was as blank as a wall. Still, he was impressed by the tactical planning that the yellow armored Neo-Crusader had done. The plan was a sound one. With any luck, they would be able to take the planet within the day and not have to start any major wars in the process. The Dark Lord stepped up and tapped the holoimage, causing it to shift slightly. He tapped the area of the capital building and it zoomed in, showing the office of the governor.

"Leave the Dark Prophet to me," he ordered all of the Mandalorians. "You do not have the training to defend yourselves against him the way your ancestors would have."

His statement was meant to be an honest statement, but each Mandalorian in the room took it rather harshly. Still, their leader had ordered them to cooperate with this Sith Lord and they would rather lay down their lives before shaming themselves with disobedience. Each one offered a stiff nod or a word of acknowledgement in response to their order.

"I apologize," the Sith Lord said as he nodded his masked head towards Kalius. "I have not memorized all of your names."

The yellow clad Mandalorian snapped off a traditional salute to his superior officer before he spoke. "My name is Kalius Fett," the Mandalorian stated with pride.

"Fett huh?" Revan repeated with mild interest.

"Clan Fett," he explained.

"I am aware of what Fett is," he snapped.

The Fett clan had provided one of the most notorious Mandalorians during the wars. Of course the Dark Lord knew of them and their specific cultural practices. During the wars, there had been a field marshal named Cassus Fett, who had quickly risen in the ranks once the Neo-Crusaders began to conquer the outer rim. Cassus had been a personal friend of Mandalore the Ultimate's and soon became his second in command. Had Revan not taken the sacred Helm of Mandalore after his duel with the Mandalorian leader, Cassus probably would have donned it and become the next Mandalore. He had led the genocide of the planet Cathar and all of her people before moving onto Taris and reducing the planet's population by almost forty percent. His name had been known throughout the Republic. Citizens had known him as a terrorist once the war had begun in earnest.

It had been Darth Malak who had finally ended Fett's reign of terror. Once the wars ended, Fett, like so many others, had become a mercenary. He was presumed dead by the Republic, but Revan had never truly believed it. Once he had become the Lord of the Sith, he had sent out his forces to find any surviving Mandalorians and purge them from the galaxy for the crimes they had committed. Malak had found Fett, a drunken slob, on Nar Shaddaa. Without a second though, the Sith apprentice had slain the Mandalorian veteran.

Later on, when he had reported back to Revan, Malak told his master of his encounter with the Mandalorian. Revan had been highly amused to hear that the once famed warrior had become a wretch of life on the smuggler's moon and had quickly approved his apprentice's decision to end his life. The galaxy was safer without him anyway. The Republic still held him in high esteem afterwards though. Mandalorian blasters had been sold over the holonet for millions of credits by men and women claiming that the weapons had belonged to the famed Mandalorian. Most of them were cheap knock offs, although a few had been pretty high quality weapons.

Although Revan had disappeared near the end of what had been termed the Jedi Civil War, he had researched thoroughly into the more modern clans and was well versed in their histories. Once the clans had been reunited and the Mandalorians had become a force to be reckoned with again, the Fetts had taken control for centuries. For nearly thirteen hundred years after their reformation, the Mandalorians were led by a member of the Fett clan. It wasn't until the Ordo's had challenged them for supremacy. For the next several generations, the control of the clans had been varied, no one clan being able to overthrow the other. About six hundred years before the Republic was reformed into the Empire, the Fett clan attempted to break away, hoping to begin their own culture of people. This insurrection was quickly put down and no Fett had ever held the position of Mandalore since.

Revan did not like the Fetts as a rule. Four thousand years may have passed but his distaste towards them had not. He perceived them as murderers with almost no honor, barely Mandalorian. He did not respect them the way he respected the rest of the warrior culture. He couldn't. Still, he needed to be diplomatic with all his forces in the days to come, so he simply held his tongue and turned instead to Gladius.

"My friend," the Mandalorian stated with a smile on his hardened face. "This will be a glorious day for both the Mandalorians and the Sith Empire!"

Revan chuckled as he nodded. _Depends on which Sith Empire you're referring to. _He thought ruefully with a grim smile. "How long before our forces are mobilized and ready to deport?"

"They can be ready within thirty minutes of receiving the order," Kalius replied.

"Then give the order."

"Sir, incoming fighters," a Sullistan security officer reported.

"What?" the Dark Prophet who had become the governor of Alzac gasped as he stood up. "The Emperor did not send any word."

"They do not appear to be Imperial, Sir."

"Rebels!" he hissed angrily as he turned his gaze out the glass window and looked saw star fighters coming out of the sky.

"No," the Sullistan replied. "Mandalorians."

Similar reports were being made across the planet as one thousand Mandalorian fighters broke atmosphere and began to head to their assigned location. Seven drop ships also came into the skies, each one covered by a spiderlike Basilisk war droid. The shuttles and the droids broke formation and began to separate, each one going in its own direction. The Dark Prophet was able to see all of this from his office and was mildly amused.

"Evacuate the building," he ordered. "I'll stay here and handle this personally."

Meanwhile, in the streets of the cities, the star fighters had begun to rain plasma fire down on the various Imperial garrisons that had been set up. Foot soldiers quickly abandoned their ships to meet the Stormtroopers that had been assigned to replace various security forces head on.

The drop ship that both Revan and Gladius Vevut rode in sped towards the edge of the main hover platform, followed closely by its Basilisk wardroid. The Dark Lord had taken a seat near the back and had fallen into a quiet meditation. He was attempting to monitor the battle from his current location but he found it difficult to concentrate. It was as if something in his mind was unclear. A part of him felt detached from his current situation. He felt like something terrible had happened and that he needed to be elsewhere. Sadly, that was not an option.

"We're approaching the target zone," the pilot informed them.

"Open the hatch," Gladius ordered as he strapped his repeating blaster rifle into the harness on his back.

"Yes Mandalore."

Revan glanced up at the ceiling of the drop ship and noticed for the first time that there was a small square shaped cut in the center. A moment later, the square receded into the ceiling and withdrew into its sides, allowing the Mandalorians to look directly up at the bottom of the hover platform.

They all pulled themselves out of the hatch and had to work to maintain balance on the top of the ship. Gladius activated his comm. channel and opened a link between himself and the Mandalorian piloting the Basilisk.

"Initiate the Basilisk's drill," he ordered.

Moments later, the spiderlike machine latched onto the bottom of the platform by embedding its eight legs into it. A drill came out of the stomach area and began to work its way through the bottom of the city. They would be inside within a matter of minutes.

In the midst of battle on another platform, Kalius Fett twirled his Mandalorian Sword into a reverse grip and cut through the armor of a Stormtrooper, who grunted with pain as he collapsed. "Keep moving!" he called to his men. "I want this entire city under our control! Do not harm the civilians!" The Mandalorians began to sweep through the streets of Alzac, effectively eliminating the Imperial forces with little effort. The Stormtroopers had all been caught unaware and were unprepared for such well armed and well trained foes.

Within half an hour of the initial assault, six of the seven cities had been taken. Imperial officials had been captured and the politicians that had been imprisoned by the Empire were released. The Basilisk wardroid was also completing its task. Its massive drill broke through the surface of the city streets and the Mandalorians were soon standing outside of the capital building, Revan at the head of the group.

"Liberate the city!" the Dark Lord ordered. "Mandalore and I will handle the Prophet!"

With that, the two military leaders rushed into the capital building. Revan's crimson lightsaber was blazing as he rushed up the stairs to a nearby elevator. Vevut followed closely, his blaster in hand. They entered the lift and keyed in the commands to take them to the top floor. They had to strike fast and leave no survivors if they were to succeed with no civilian casualties.

The lift door opened and they both stepped out. Revan raised his saber over his head, ready in case any Imperials should attempt to attack while Gladius led the way into the hallway. The Mandalorian began going to each door and checking inside, searching for the Dark Prophet but Revan stayed put. He could sense a faint cloud of dark side energy inside of the building. Their enemy was trying to mask his presence from them but he had been poorly trained. He was seventeen meters to the east, which meant that they would either have to go through a couple of walls or navigate through the corridors.

Sighing, Revan made his decision. He turned to a nearby wall on the right side of the hallway opened the door. "Mandalore, this way," he stated as he entered the room. It was a well furnished office, which had already been abandoned by its current resident. Shrugging, the Dark Lord pressed forward, followed closely by his companion. Without breaking stride, Revan extended his arm towards the durasteel wall. The sound of metal groaning filled the air as the wall began to crack. Suddenly, it exploded and the two were simply able to walk into the next room. This process was repeated twice before they reached the governor's office.

The Prophet of the Dark Side had sensed the approach of Darth Revan and Mandalore. The dark side was his ally and he placed his whole faith in it. He stood resolute in the center of his office, gripping his lightsaber cane in his gloved hands. It had been some time since he had had a chance to make use of his weapon, having acted as the Emperor's political servant rather than as a spy or a Hand for the last several years. He admired the craftsmanship of the elongated hilt.

Suddenly, the wall to his office broke down and a chunk of it went flying towards him. With practiced ease, he side stepped the attack and used the Force to send the debris crashing through the glass window, causing it to plummet towards the surface of the planet below. The Prophet ignited his cane, causing a somewhat longer than average blade of pure crimson to spring forth. His enemies came into the room slowly. One was a Dark Jedi, that he could tell by the waves of dark side energy that was emanating from his person. The other was clearly Mandalorian, though his armor looked different from the usual Neo-Crusader suits that he was familiar with.

"Stand back, Mandalorian," the Dark Lord of the Sith warned as he pointed the blade of his active weapon at the Dark Prophet.

Gladius Vevut, used to being in the midst of the fray, actually chuckled at this and stood back. He harnessed his blaster rifle and rest his hands on his hips, though he was not so careless as to leave himself defenseless. His left hand rested on the pommel of his enhanced Mandalorian vibration sword, just in case the Dark Lord should fail. The leader of the Mandalorian people was eager to see the awe inspiring talents of the Sith emperor.

He didn't have to wait long either. Revan moved quickly to begin the duel. He was a black and red colored blur to the Mandalorian as he charged towards the Dark Prophet. Their blades clash and the sound reverberated off of the bare walls of the room.

Bastila Shan stopped her advancement, a frown forming on her soft features as she did. The others also paused and turned to her. Carth, thinking that she had heard something, rested his hand easily on the blaster pistol that was holstered on his thigh. Seeing this, the young Jedi Knight waved away the concern with her hand and shook her head. There was no danger surrounding them currently, at least not that of which she was aware. Bastila turned to look about, seeing if she could see anything that would explain the strange feeling that was forming in the pit of her stomach. There was nothing.

"Are you alright?" Luke asked her.

"Yes, I'm fine," she answered. "I just sense something…strange."

Obi-Wan frowned as well and folded his arms within his robes. "I sense nothing," he stated as he began to reach out to his surroundings. Indeed, he could feel nothing unusual. The native animals were the only living things in the area besides their group and the Dark Jedi that they had taken prisoner.

"It's probably nothing," she replied. "I just feel different."

"Different how?" Leia inquired.

"I feel elevated, as if adrenaline was rushing through me," she explained realizing that her heart was pounding in her chest.

"The Force is speaking through you, young Bastila," Obi-Wan said thoughtfully. "Listen to what it has to say to you."

"We don't have time," Leia reminded them. "He," she indicated the Dark Jedi who was unconscious on their makeshift raft, "could wake up at any time."

"We cannot be blind to what the Force is trying to tell us, Leia. It guides us. It would not purposefully put is in harm's way," the girl's soon to be mentor spoke. "If the Force calls to you, never turn away."

The princess sighed and warily watched the Dark Jedi, wondering just how long her disruptor bolt would keep him under. "How long will this take?" she asked.

"I'm not sure," the newly promoted Jedi Knight answered. "It could take some time. Meditations are unpredictable."

"Ben," Luke said as he approached Obi-Wan. "What if he attacks us again? Why don't you, Leia, and Carth take him to the Rebels? We'll stay here and you can send a transport to come get us later."

"Master Kenobi, I believe that would be wise," Leia agreed.

Obi-Wan nodded. "Very well," he replied. "Then we will continue. Luke, Bastila, may the Force be with you."

"And you as well, Master Kenobi," Bastila replied.

Leia, who was impatient to move forward, bid a quick farewell and continued. Carth took up the ropes to the small raft, which a hibernating C-3P0 and R2-D2 sat on, along with the Dark Jedi they had captured, and began to pull it by himself, noting how it was much heavier without Luke's assistance. Obi-Wan took one last look back at the two and turned away. Once they were out of view, Luke turned to Bastila.

"So what do we do now?" he asked. "Is there some sort of ritual?"

"Jedi rarely take part in actual rituals, Luke," she replied with the same grin an elder sibling would bestow upon a curious child. "No, this is a simple meditation technique. I must do this alone I'm afraid. I simply need you to protect me if I go into any sort of deep trance."

Luke nodded as he pulled out his E11-blaster rifle and sat down at the base of a nearby tree. "Alright," he replied with a slight smile.

Bastila flashed him a slight smile before she fell to her knees and folded her hands in her lap. She closed her gray eyes and relaxed, letting the Force roll over her. _There is no emotion, there is peace. _She said to herself in her mind.

Luke watched Bastila as she meditated, unsure of what to do with himself. True, their trek to the tomb of Exar Kun had been constantly interrupted by attacks from indigenous animals and beasts but he had not seen many recently. Maybe they had moved on top a safer portion of the forest. He shrugged and let it pass out of his mind, choosing instead to study his companion. During his schooling on Tatooine, Luke had been close with few girls and had never spent any sort of considerable time with one. Being around Bastila was a new experience for him, not that the last few weeks hadn't all been new.

He couldn't help but state at her face. With her eyes closed and her head tilted downwards, she looked like she was simply sleeping in a relaxed kneeling position. She was so peaceful and her very presence seemed to sooth him. As a woman, she was beautiful. Her features were very pale, which was a sharp contrast to the normally dark tanned women he had known on Tatooine. She obviously hadn't come from a world that was anywhere near as harsh as his, in either climate or society as his own. Her accent was well cultured and fine, which was nearly a death sentence in Mos Eisley or Anchorhead or any of the settlements that he had visited. The crude opportunistic dealers and criminals would quickly take advantage of one who was not used to such callous conditions, not that Bastila in particular would have had any problems handling herself there.

There was also another thing about Bastila that Luke could not stop himself from thinking about; her body. The young farm boy had grown up around women that had been broken and hardened by the twin suns of Tatooine. Most of their physical features had withered away from the heat and dry climate. Bastila had definitely not lost her looks. Her body curved in all of the right ways to catch his attention and the form fitting robes that she wore left little to the imagination. Luke gulped just thinking about it.

He turned away, realizing that his head was moving in a negative direction and that those sorts of feelings were wrong. Obi-Wan had told him that a Jedi could not have such attachments and that he must discard physical desires if any plagued him. Still, it was difficult to take his mind off of her. Knowing that he could not stand to keep sitting still, Luke stood up and began to pace back and forth. He liked pacing. It always helped him clear his mind when he was trying to concentrate on something.

_Jedi_

Luke looked around, certain that he had just heard something. It had sounded like a cold hissing noise. His eyes darted around him but he was unable to see anything out of the ordinary. Bastila was still deep in her meditation and there didn't seem to be anyone else around, so who had spoken? Deciding to test himself, Luke decided to look around with his mind, rather than his eyes. He closed them and started to let the Force dictate his actions. He knew something was wrong instantly, for he felt cold. There was a thick presence in the air around him, which almost made it difficult for him to breathe so long as he perceived it.

The dark specter that had followed Luke from the Tomb of Exar Kun knew that the boy could sense him in the Force and he also knew that it was pointless to mask his presence any longer.

Luke could not see what was going on inside of the spiritual plane of existence but its effects on his world were clear. A cloud of impenetrable black haze seemed to sprout from the air and form a large cloud of smoke before him. He had barely a moment to register what was going on before it was too late. The cloud soared towards him. His eyes widen and he tried to back away. He stumbled backwards and tripped himself over his feet. With a large thump, he smacked the ground and the cloud overtook him. It flew into his mouth and down his throat, spreading through his systems quickly. He tried to scream but the haze inside of him choked him, making it impossible.

Several feet away, the dark side of the Force that screamed around her forced Bastila to come out of her meditation. She was on her feet in moments and had just enough time to see the last of the smoke cloud disappear inside of Luke's body. His body was convulsing with seizure like spasms that wracked him with pain. Now that the smoke wasn't blocking his lungs, he was able to cry out. It was a horrific sound. Luke's voice was tainted by something. It was becoming dark and inhuman, like a banshee crying out into the night. It made her wince just to hear it. The Jedi reached around to her lower back, where her lightsaber was clipped to her belt. She did not detach it but she did keep her hand on it. It would have been foolish to approach her companion while he was in this state, for she was unsure of what the smoke cloud that had disappeared inside of him was, not to mention the dark side Force energy that was radiating off of him in enormous waves.

"Luke!" she called to him. "Luke, can you hear me?"

"Bastila, run!" he screeched, his mutated voice piercing her ears like a high pitched siren.

That was something she refused to do. She was a Jedi Knight and she had taken an oath to protect those who were in need. Her friend was in need. She began to slowly approach him, cautious, yet determined. He had gone silent and was now beating his fists against the ground as the spasms continued.

"Luke-," she began as she came near him.

The young man looked up at her, eyes wide open and she went sailing backwards. The Jedi cried out in shock as the unheralded attack overwhelmed her and she went rolling through the grass. Again without warning, her body lifted into the air. Before she could react, Luke hurled her into a nearby tree but he did not relinquish her. As the pain of the first blow started to set in, she slammed into another tree. This time he let her go, allowing her to fall to the ground. Her shoulder, where the first tree had been struck, blazed with pain. Her robe had torn against the thick bark and her bare skin could be seen. The second time she had struck she had hit her back, which ached tremendously.

"Luke," she whispered as he approached her.

He squatted down beside her, a wicked smile dancing across his features. She groaned as she looked up into his eyes. They were not Luke's anymore. The softness and burning desire for thrill and adventure were no longer there. Instead, they had been replaced by the malice of someone else. There was hatred inside of him now, hatred beyond the hatred Luke had buried after the death of his family. This man was a monster.

Her reached down and cupped her right cheek in his hand, forcing her to look at him. His hot breath burned against her skin as he brought leaned in to be close to her, switching into a kneeling position. She tried to pull away from him but the physical strength in Luke's body seemed to have increased. He felt her firm.

"Don't touch me," she threatened as his hand came towards her.

"Shhhhh," he said softly as he placed a single finger over her lips to silent her. His voice was no longer the horrid screech that it had been moments ago but there was definitely something different to it. It was just evil. "Bastila," he whispered softly, turning her name over in his mind. "Are you afraid?" The Jedi's eyes hardened with resolve and she shook her head fervently. This incited a chuckle from Luke, though there was little real mirth in it. "You lie," he said as ran his hand through her messy brown hair.

A sudden terror was filling Bastila. The way that he was holding her in his arms and the way his hand went through her hair were indicative of a man overcome by lust. She suddenly felt the need to struggle and to pull away. She attempted to but he held her still.

"Calm yourself, Bastila," he said to her. "I will not lay one finger on you or your precious Jedi virtue… not yet anyway." He smiled darkly at her and relinquished her. He stood up, but used to Force to keep her on the flat of her back, though she did struggle against it. "I will not touch you until you submit to me yourself, which you will."

"Never," she snarled at him.

Luke chuckled at this and decided that a demonstration was in order. He extended his hand towards her and Force lightning shot from his fingers. Bastila screamed as the electricity engulfed her and she began to roll over in pain, curling into a fetal position. Her attacker laughed out loud as she screamed. The two sounds mingled horribly in the air of Yavin IV's forest. He relented in his attack. Bastila stood up, no longer restrained by his power, and turned to face him.

"Torturing me will gain you nothing," she spat at him as she grabbed her lightsaber.

The spirit that had possessed Luke Skywalker was amused to see that she was holding a lightsaber that had energy emitters at either end of the hilt. The only reason he knew of that a lightsaber would have such an appearance was because it was intended to be a double bladed weapon. Had his creation really survived for all of this time? Were common Jedi Knights really using a weapon that he, the Dark Lord of the Sith, had created? He could only wonder what adjustments they had made to his designs over the centuries. He would have to study this woman's weapon but taking it from her now wouldn't be sporting. He wanted to have a challenge. Once she submitted herself to his every whim, he would take it from her.

"I believe that you're wrong," he responded to her previous statement. "Torture is a most effective way to break a Jedi such as yourself."

Again, with no prior warning, Luke was able to use the Force to send her flying. This time she stuck nothing but the hard ground and she was thankful that it was not another solid tree. She pulled herself to her feet and ignited both ends of her sun colored lightsaber. Before she could attack, however, a whirlwind began to Force around her. She cried out in shock as she dropped the weapon and was swept up into a small tornado. Her body twisted in the air along with the current of the Force created wind. Several small objects such as rocks and sticks had been picked up in the gust and were striking her painfully. The pain was aggravating but the motion was the worst. She was beginning to feel nauseous. Her stomach was wrenching painfully inside of her. Luke sensed this and decided that he had had enough. He pulled her free of the gust that surrounded her and smacked her down on the ground with heavy force. Luke walked over to her. She writhed in misery on the ground before him, unable to defend herself. He did not pity her in the least. He was taking pleasure from her pain. Still, his time to play games was over. There was work to be done.

"My name is Exar Kun," he told her as he lifted her into the air and began to use the Force to choke her. The Jedi's eyes went wide but she found that it was not impossible to breath. He had left her just enough room in her throat for oxygen to pass through. "I am returning to my tomb. It will be the capital of my empire in the days to come. You, Jedi, will have the honor of becoming my apprentice. Join me there when you have recovered.

With that said, Kun relinquished Bastila and she dropped to the ground. He turned away and walked off, headed in the direction of his temple. Bastila moaned on the ground and watched him go, unable to stop him. Pain and exhaustion made it too hard for her to think clearly or register the implications of his last words. She simply forced herself to her hands and knees, vomited everything that was in her stomach, and passed out.

Darth Vader entered what would be considered the throne room of the Death Star, seeing as how the Emperor eventually planned to have the massive superstation become the new capital of the Galactic Empire, rather than Coruscant. He had received orders from his master to return to the Empire's new weapon in order to meet with his master personally. The Dark Lord had quickly complied and had returned at once to find that his master was not pleased. The withered of Sith Lord eyed him angrily as the black armored warrior approached him. The Emperor sat in a large black chair in the center of the dimly lit room. Behind him was an enormous viewport, making it possible for him to gaze out at the galaxy behind him, though he was not interested in such things. His attention was focused only on his apprentice's failure.

"What is thy bidding, my master?" Vader asked reverently as he kneeled before the sovereign of the galaxy. He bowed his head as a sign of respect, refusing to meet the older man's eyes.

"Lord Vader," Sidious spoke darkly. "You have failed me."

"I am working to correct the problem, Master," he answered as he looked up.

"Silence," the Lord of the Sith snarled. "How could you let an entire fleet escape you, not to mention Obi-Wan Kenobi?" Vader did not answer, knowing that there was nothing he could say to slake the wrath of the Emperor. The Emperor had expected as much and continued. "I have received reports from the surviving officials that were station on Alzac," he stated. "The planet has been liberated."

"What?" Vader's head snapped up and his full attention was on the Emperor now. "Liberated? How?"

"Darth Revan," his master replied. "He has formed an alliance with the Mandalorians. His forces touched down only a few hours ago. They have already liberated the planet and killed one of prophets."

Vader stood up abruptly and clenched his mechanical fist in rage. "I will rectify this, my master," he promised. "The power of the dark side will destroy him!"

"You fool," Sidious snapped as he stood as well. "The dark side is his ally! He basks in it! He is no Jedi or neophyte fallen one who you have slain since the fall of the Republic. He is a Sith Lord! He is your equal!"

"I will destroy him," the former Jedi Knight repeated.

Sidious sighed and shook his head. "You still have much to learn, Vader," he cooed. "Your overconfidence will be your undoing. He has already amassed a fleet without our knowledge and formed an alliance with the Mandalorians. He is smarter than any foe we have ever faced."

"What then, do you purpose?"

The Emperor did not like the tone in his apprentice voice when he asked his question, though he decided to let it go. As degrading as it was when he tortured Vader, he did not have time for setbacks. They needed to move quickly if they were to end this threat without a full scale war erupting.

"The Rebel Alliance has needs to be dealt with so we can focus on Darth Revan," he stated coldly. "Have your men found the _Millennium Falcon_?"

"Yes, master. We installed a tracking device when it was aboard the Death Star. It stopped briefly in the Yavin system before moving to Dagobah."

"Dagobah?" the Emperor repeated. "Why would Kenobi go there?"

"He is searching for something, Master."

"Clearly. Lord Vader, bring me that ship. I want Kenobi and the Princess alive!"

"Yes master," he replied with a bow. "What of Darth Revan?"

"I will deal with Alzac myself," he answered vaguely. "In the meantime, I want that ship."

"I will bring it to you," he promised.

"Do not fail me, Vader."

"I will not."


	9. Demise

**The Darkest Lord  
Chapter IX: Demise of a Dark Lord  
**

Darth Malak slowly scanned the Valley of the Dark Lords, his yellow eyes flicking back and forth between the various Imperial Stormtroopers that were stationed at different points throughout the canyon. During the days of the old Republic, the bald Sith Lord had visited Korriban numerous times, the first being when he and his master, Darth Revan, had come in search of the third Star Map of the Star Forge. At that point in time, there had been only five tombs that had been erected in honor of the Sith Lords: Ajunta Pall's, Marka Ragnos's, Naga Sadow's, Tulak Hord's, and Ludo Kressh's. Four of the tombs had been used for their original purpose. Only Naga Sadow had died offworld. His life had ended in exile on the planet Yavin and all that remained inside of his tomb was the ancient Rakatan object that had led the Sith to their ultimate weapon.

Since that time, only one other structure had been built in the valley. Malak scanned it curiously, finding it strange that he sensed nothing within. No restless spirit dwelled inside. It was still empty. If the Dark Lord's apprentice had a mouth, he would have frowned. Why would there be an empty tomb within the valley? More importantly, he wondered, why were there so many more Stormtroopers guarding that particular tomb. As he glanced at the rest of the canyon from his hiding place above the Tomb of Naga Sadow, he realized that the Imperial forces were concentrated around the new tomb.

"Perhaps they are afraid to venture too close to one of the Dark Lord's spirits," he wondered aloud.

"Master?"

Malak turned around. The only Sith that had accompanied him to the dark world didn't seem to interested in the new tomb or the fact that the Imperials had it surrounded. In fact, he seemed rather bored with himself. His arms were folded over the light fiber armor that he wore over his robes and his posture reeked of impatience. The Dark Lord sighed, turning back towards the valley.

"You must learn patience," he told the other bald man. "Pay attention to the scene around you before you go rushing in for the kill, Bandon."

"They are insects beneath us, Master. There is no need to wait," the younger Sith argued.

"Do you believe that you can single handedly kill every Imperial in this dark valley if you were to go rushing in at this vest moment?" Malak asked.

"I do," he replied with a nod.

"Very well," the former Jedi General said with a shrug. "Wipe this pathetic rabble from existence."

Bandon's features creased into a wide smile at his master's words. He detached his double bladed lightsaber from its harness on the back on his belt and twirled it in his hands before igniting both ends. The brutish Sith Marauder sprang forward, leaping from their concealed space and down into the canyon below. Malak watched with mild interest as his student cut down two nearby Stormtroopers, before proceeding towards the vacant tomb.

Bandon had been raised on Taris, the metropolitan world of the outer rim, which had once been an important stop for trade and commerce in the days prior to the Great Hyperspace War. The Jedi there had found him when he was an infant and brought him to the temple in order to be trained. Growing up on such a harsh planet left its mark on the boy, however. Constant association with the various swoop gangs and criminals in the lower cities had given him a cynical and rather violent personality. When Revan and Malak had left the Jedi Order in order to combat the Mandalorian threat, Bandon had still been a youngling. It wasn't until the two had returned under the banner of the Sith that he had had his chance to join with them. Joining the Sith had been more fulfilling than joining the wars would have been. As Jedi, they had gone to war in order to protect. As Sith, they waged war with the Republic in order to conquer and become powerful. That was his interest. He wanted to become the most powerful Sith in the Empire. One day, he would slay his master, Malak, and become the apprentice of the true Dark Lord. Once he had learned everything that there was to be learned from Revan, he would challenge the Lord of the Sith and usurp his position. Until that day came though, he could only get stronger.

Malak was well aware of his student's ambition and that he was a liability. Still, he was confident that he could keep control of the man. For now, Bandon didn't even come close to rivaling him in terms of power. However, as a precaution, the bald Sith Lord had chosen not to take the former Jedi padawan as an official apprentice. Bandon was simply a pupil. Malak would go only so far in his training. None of the ancient Sith secrets that Revan had bestowed upon his apprentice would be passed along to Bandon. He was far too arrogant to know what to do with such knowledge. As a result, he would learn only how to master the ways of the lightsaber and the power of the dark side. He would never be instructed in Sith philosophy or lore. As far as his training went, Bandon had learned only the ways of the Dark Jedi. He was a Sith in name only, as Revan would want.

Darth Malak had to admit that he was impressed by what Bandon was doing. Four Stormtroopers were already dead and three more were hovering in the air, immobilized, while he electrocuted another one. Several more of the white clad soldiers were running towards him, blasters raised. All of the plasma shots were either deflected by his blade or sent flying in the either direction into the thick rock formations in around him. He was standing about thirty meters away from the tomb. For that fact alone, the former Jedi Knight was impressed.

The Dark Jedi took the three soldiers and sent them flying upwards before he released them. Their screams tore through the air before they smashed into the ground. With a loud feral growl, the bald Sith hurled his lightsaber at four more oncoming Imperials. The blades rotated as they tore through the air and sliced two soldiers each. They all collapsed, their armor not strong enough to repel lightsaber attacks. He quickly called the Sith weapon back to his hand before turning his blade back on one of the last troops in the near vicinity.

While Bandon was finishing the last of the Stormtroopers that were near the newest of the tombs, several others were swarming towards him. Malak saw this threat, which his pupil did not. He was tempted to let them overwhelm the young man, however logic dictated that it would be unwise. Sighing, the Dark Lord began to sprint towards the Imperials with speed that no Force blind could possibly reach. With a mechanical grunt, he leapt at a Stormtrooper that was preparing to ambush Bandon, crimson blade active. The Sith apprentice severed the soldier's leg from the knee down before hurling him at another oncoming armored figure.

Across the valley, another Dark Lord looked down upon the scene with amusement glittering in his pale yellow eyes. Exar Kun chuckled to himself as he watched the multitude of Stormtroopers fall to the two Sith warriors. He was a great distance from the actual scene of battle, near the tomb of Ajuna Pall. It was impossible, even with his Force enhanced sight, to tell much about the forms or styles that the two saber wielders used but it seemed that the taller, bulkier one was the more powerful of the two. He was moving faster and cutting down his attackers with much more ferocity and animosity than his shorter companion.

Kun had left the planet Yavin nearly two weeks ago, after defeating the Jedi, Bastila Shan. He had found transport in the form of a small Sith vessel that he been near his tomb. He could only assume that it had belonged to those Sith that Luke Skywalker and his companions had killed near the pyramidal structure that had been intended for his remains. Having assimilated Luke's memories into his own, Kun actually felt quite fortunate that the vessel he had commandeered was almost as old as he was. That made it simpler to pilot. In fact, the operating systems within the small shuttle had been very familiar to him. Getting off world had not been hard.

He had come to Korriban in hopes of finding the planet populated with Sith, as the shuttle's logs had promised. The Sith would have made promising students that would eventually rival the Emperor, Darth Sidious. Instead, only Imperial forces roamed the planet. He had been quite disappointed. Still, it didn't matter. Somewhere in the galaxy, there had to be a suitable cache of Force sensitives that he could bend to his own will and finding common men and women to serve as soldiers for him wouldn't be the slightest problem. Men were always willing to follow, so long as their leader kept them well disciplined.

Drawing on Luke Skywalker's brain, Kun learned that the Sith that he was watching decimate the Imperial forces were probably part of the colossal fleet that had followed a man named Darth Revan into the present and stood in opposition against the Galactic Empire. That was also unfortunate. Logic dictated that it would be foolish to accept anyone that had studied the dark side from another master as a follower. If they were willing to betray their current masters, then it proved that they would be willing to betray their new one later on.

After the betrayal of Ulic Qel-Droma, Kun was weary of taking on any new apprentices. In fact, he decided, it would probably be safest to forego the tradition of master and apprentice in order to secure his own position. Those he took under his wing would only be Dark Jedi whom he would teach the ways of the dark side. The ancient Sith teachings that he had learned the first time he had visited this rock of a planet would die with him. In any case, those who had sword fealty to the Empire or Darth Revan would not be trusted under even the direst circumstances.

Malak was not a raw recruit or some inept soldier who didn't know when he was being studied. He had been a general in the Mandalorian Wars and had risen to the rank of Sith Lord shortly afterwards. He could sense the presence of another Force user in the area. Still, he chose to ignore it. He would draw this Jedi or Dark Jedi out into the open, rather than be lured into an ambush where he and Bandon would be at a disadvantage. The only thing he needed was bait.

His eyes flicked towards Bandon, who was busy mutilating the corpse of a nearby Stormtrooper. "Bandon," he said calmly as he turned to the younger man. "Did you ever wonder why I brought you, and only you, out here?" the Dark Lord inquired.

The bald Dark Jedi ceased his assault on the Stormtrooper's ribcage and tossed the body aside with a wave of his hand. Both ends of his double sided lightsaber retracted into the hilt. He walked over to his superior and looked up at him.

"No master," he replied honestly. "I did not even consider it."

"I am not surprised," the bald Sith Lord muttered, knowing that Bandon rarely considered things beyond senseless violence and his own power. "Do you know what my orders from Darth Revan were?"

"The Dark Lord wanted you to capture Korriban, didn't he?" he answered, unsure of himself now.

"That is true," the more powerful Force user conceded. "But I did defy him in bringing you here with me. My orders were to capture this rock using the Sigma Force."

Bandon nodded, not even knowing what the Sigmas were or the implications of what his master was saying. Seeing the blank response that he received, Malak rolled his eyes. Bandon truly was an idiot. Playing him would be even simpler than the Dark Lord had thought.

"I brought you instead for a single purpose, Bandon. I wanted to test your abilities."

"And I passed, didn't I?" the Dark Jedi asked confidently.

"Almost," Malak answered with a dark chuckle. "Your display of power against these Imperials was… impressive." As thick headed as Bandon was, Malak had a hard time believing that he was actually fooling anyone. It was a testament to how stupid this young Sith soldier was. He had served well as a common marauder, but he was of little use besides that and Sith Marauders were easy enough to come by. "Bandon, you know the way of the Sith. The apprentice must challenge his master for supremacy. If the apprentice is worthy, then he shall become the master and take on an apprentice of his own. That is how we ensure that only the strongest rule."

"Yes," Bandon said with a nod. "That is how Master Wynn justified his assault on Master Uln when he took control of the academy."

"Yes," Malak said with a nod. "That is true. Master Wynn took control because he was more powerful of than his master. It is time for me to do the same."

"You intend to challenge Lord Revan for the position of Dark Lord?" Bandon inquired, clearly interested now.

"Yes," the Sith apprentice lied. "And I need an apprentice to stand at my side once Revan is dead."

The point of the conversation finally hit the bald Dark Jedi and he threw his head back, laughing madly at what the Dark Lord had said. His mirth was so great that it took several moments for him to regain control of himself, which his master waited through impatiently. When he was finally able to speak again, Bandon looked into Malak's eyes, a smirk still on his face.

"What is your final test, my master?" he asked.

"Before you can be knighted Darth Bandon, you will have to face me in single combat. If you can survive, you will become my apprentice."

"You will not be disappointed," the Dark Jedi replied as he reignited his lightsaber.

The former Jedi General didn't respond. Instead he thumbed the activation switch of his own weapon and took his traditional stance. Malak, like Revan, used a variant of the lost Juyo form. Since the days of the Hundred Year Darkness, the seventh form of lightsaber combat had been incomplete. Knowledge of its technical movements and application had been lost when all of the Jedi and Dark Jedi practitioners were killed in the conflict. Only bits and pieces of Juyo had survived and trickled down through time to Revan and Malak.

When he had been a Jedi, Revan had studied at the foot of several Jedi Masters, many of whom sat on the High Jedi Council at the time. One such master had been Master Kavar, a near god-like figure when it came to lightsaber combat. The Jedi had explained to his student the history of Juyo and how it had been lost in time. Then he had produced a holocron which had deteriorated through time, but still had some of the information on the form nonetheless. Kavar had explained that he had studied the holocron and then proceeded to fill in the form's holes on his own, ultimately creating a new lightsaber form, which he had intended to teach Revan. Before this could happen, however, his student had become eager and done the same as the instructor. Revan shut himself up in the Jedi libraries, studying all he could about the ancient form and the strengths and weaknesses of the other six forms. The end result of his work was another variant of Juyo, completely different from the one Kavar had developed.

The first time that anyone had witnessed Revan apply his form was in a practice duel against his teacher. Many had viewed the conflict and had been awed. In hindsight, Malak realized that that duel had probably attracted several of the younger Jedi to join the Revanchist faction within the Jedi the following year. The bald Jedi, who had seen his friend wield a lightsaber many times since their childhood, had been dumbfounded when he viewed the duel between the knight and the master. Both had been able to match each other blow for blow. The amount of Force energy generated by their fighting had sent ripples throughout the Jedi Temple. Their lightsabers had moved so fast that it had looked like three sapphire blurs smashing into one another and then bouncing away, like electrons colliding within an atom.

Both during and after the Mandalorian Wars, Revan began to teach his friend his new and clearly effective lightsaber style. Malak, who had been, and still was, a swordsman before all else, had been an eager and swift pupil. He had quickly learned all there was to learn about the form from his master and then proceeded to go about making his own changes and variants. In the mean time, Revan, who had begun to study the ways of the ancient Sith inside of the Trayus Academy on Malachor V, had started making small adjustments to his style in order to assimilate the Sith ways. Revan's knew form channeled his emotions in the way for which the Jedi would rebuke. Similarly, Malak's alternative form accommodated his own bloodlust and malice, though it lacked the creative gusto in his master's, once again making Revan his superior.

Still, his vicious style would have more than enough power to overwhelm a mediocre warrior like Bandon, who had potential and nothing more. The Dark Lord did not want to make this a battle of attrition. Normally, he would gladly draw ought a fight in order to toy with his opponents and break their spirits before he finished them off, but now was not the time for such games. A powerful dark side entity was lurking nearby and the Dark Lord had a feeling that it was some agent of the Empire's. Despite Revan's claims that Darth Vader, the Empire's prized warrior, was a fool who was only a shell of a Sith Lord, Malak was cautious. The power that he sensed was not that of a second-rate Sith. Whoever was putting out that sort of power was a master of the dark side. Perhaps the being that he sensed was the Emperor himself. After all, if Vader was a Sith apprentice, then his master would have to be infinitely more powerful.

Malak pivoted his foot and shifted his weight to it, giving him solid balance where he was standing. Bandon, taking this as a sign to begin, lunged forward. His double bladed lightsaber was his only advantage over the older, more experienced warrior. As a Jedi, he had used a similar weapon, which he had been proficient with. However, once he turned to the dark side, his skills had soared to new heights. He had adopted a double-bladed modification of Form II, Makashi, which provided him with a distinct advantage over foes carrying a lightsaber of their own, such as Malak.

Seeing his pupil's obvious tactic, the Dark Lord spun himself on his enforced leg, using the other to deliver a deadly snap kick at the younger man's hand, which was choking high up on his saber's shaft. The blow connected and completely threw Bandon off, causing him to drive his weapon into a rock cluster behind the former Jedi General. With a mechanical grunt, Malak turned his blade towards the bald Dark Jedi, planning to end the duel with a single strike but Bandon was faster than he had expected. Despite the pain that had run up his forearm, he was able to roll out of the way of his master's blade and bring himself to his feet. The two blood sabers connected several times, neither penetrating the other's defenses.

Bandon chose to break off. He rolled to his side, hoping to take Malak from behind. He finished the roll by coming back to his feet and plunging the blade of his lightsaber towards the Sith Lord. Malak was gone before the attack could penetrate his red fiber armor though and his hand extended into the air. Sparks danced about his fingertips as electricity shot up into the air. The tendrils of sparks arced in the air and came back down to form a dome around its creator, which Bandon was caught in. His blade and thick armor were able to absorb most of the damage from the attach, but a few sparks managed to make contact with his bare skin, blackening the areas which they touched. Once the attack ceased, he touched a blackened strip on his cheek, enraged that he had been hit.

With a feral snarl, Bandon hurled his saber towards Malak. Even before the attack was near him, the Dark Lord was laughing. The Force energy that Bandon used to guide his weapon was no match for the ruthless power that a true Sith Lord controlled. He wrenched the saberstaff out of the air, catching it by the shaft deftly.

"Your moron," the Dark Lord cried out as he threw his own saber towards the Sith apprentice. Unlike his master, however, Bandon couldn't use the Force to make the blade deviate from its path. Before he knew what had happened, the blade was upon him and it tore into his stomach. A loud cry of anguish erupted from the Dark Jedi as the searing pain in his stomach began to spread.

Malak pulled his weapon back to him before switching it off. Bandon had fallen to his knees and was waiting for the Dark Lord to finish him. His head was hung in shame and blood was dribbling from his lips.

"You have served your purpose well, _my apprentice,_" he said with a chuckle, adding emphasis to the last two words in order to mock the man. "Unfortunately, you are worthless to me now." Malak also deactivate the saberstaff and threw it on the ground before its master. "There is someone else here who is far more powerful than you are. A true Sith Lord would have been able to sense it, but you could not. Your life is forfeit."

Malak, knowing that if he left Bandon alive it would attract the attention of whatever dark side user he sensed, turned away without striking him down. He moved towards the nearby tomb, choosing this location because it would be impossible for anyone to tell if he was lying in wait or if he had gone on into the Sith resting place. Once he had his location selected, he pulled the Force over himself, creating a cloak that would obscure him from vision and leave his aura suppressed.

As Malak had intended, the fact that Bandon had not been killed did catch Exar Kun's attention. The ancient Sith Lord watched as the Dark Jedi collapsed, lying on the ground, waiting for death to take him. He frowned at the more powerful Dark Jedi's carelessness. How could he have left an opponent to die? When the Force was involved, it was never safe to assume that someone was out of the picture until he was dead. Taking the lightsaber that had once belonged to Anakin Skywalker in his hand, Kun started towards Bandon's perishing form in order to finish what Malak had started. Then he would punish the less experienced Sith Lord for his error.

Using speed granted to him by the Force, Kun was able to clear the distance of the valley within minutes. He came upon Bandon, who was groaning in pain as he tried to crawl towards the ship that he and Malak had used to come to this planet. His plan had clearly been to flee and to leave his master stranded. Unfortunately, neither Kun, nor Malak would have permitted it to happen.

When Bandon saw the young looking man standing over him, a slight flicker of hope came alive inside of him. It was soon extinguished when he saw a cerulean colored blade coming towards him. Darkness took him.

"Don't worry, my friend," he said as he looked towards the enigmatic tomb. "Your master will suffer a similar fate."

Malak withheld a dark chuckle when he heard Kun say this. The ancient Sith Lord was approaching and the Dark Lord was ready to face him. Springing from his ambush point, Malak leapt at Exar Kun, lightsaber igniting as he went. Kun was stunned by the attack, just as Malak had predicted, and barely had enough time to bring his lightsaber up to defend himself. The two locked blades in a powerful grapple, which Malak clearly had the advantage in. His body's superior strength and weight, along with the fact that his opponent had been unprepared, gave Malak a clear advantage.

The sapphire colored blade was coming towards Kun's face, near his eyes. Before the weapon could burn them out, however, the ancient Sith dropped his weight, allowing him to fall to his knees. This completely ruined Malak's balance, causing him to topple forward, on top of his enemy. Both lightsabers were dropped in the scuffle and the two Sith Lords went rolling through across the rocky surface of the planet, sharp and jagged edges digging into their skin.

The two broke apart once they slammed into a rocky cluster. They both jumped to their feet and engaged in hand to hand combat. A couple of well aimed blows and both were bleeding. Kun was the first to bring the Force into the battle. He extended his arm and a wave of energy flew at Malak, who was able to dodge the attack. He called his own saber back to his hand and hurled the other one at Kun. Kun attempted to catch his own weapon, but the angle was off ever so slightly. He accidently grasped the base of the energized blade, scorching his hand painfully. He cried out as the weapon dropped to the floor and Malak moved on him.

Malak hurled Force wave after Force wave at the former Sith Lord, forcing him backwards painfully. The two made their way into the center of the valley in this manner, each wave causing Kun more pain.

"I sense that you are not truly a young boy," Malak said as he hit Kun again with another wave. "You are far too powerful for that. You are the spirit of some long dead warrior, aren't you?"

Kun did not respond. Instead he tried to retaliate with his own attack. Malak shrugged it off effortlessly, realizing that he had already done more damage than he had thought. In the body of an untrained Force sensitive, Kun was no match for the Dark Lord. Still, his spirit was potent and Malak was always one to accept power when it was before him.

"The boy may make a valuable soldier," he stated as he raised his arm and clenched his fist.

Kun shrieked in pain as tendrils of violet energy seeped out of the pores of Luke Skywalker's body, transferring into Malak's. A temporary adrenaline rush overwhelmed the Dark Lord, while Kun was weakened slowly.

"You are no Sith," Malak stated as he continued to drain the spirit of the long dead Sith Lord.

With a final burst of energy, Malak pulled Kun's spirit free of the host he had infected and continued to drain it until there was nothing left. The spirit of Exar Kun had been vanquished forever.

"That was easier than I had expected," the Dark Lord muttered as he turned to the boy who was lying on the ground behind him.

Luke Skywalker was feeling disoriented. His eyes took a bit of time to adjust to his surroundings before they focused in on Darth Malak. His mind was had been weakened by his experience, causing him to ignore the feeling of darkness that Malak was permeating into the air. He simply saw another human being.

"Can you help me?" he asked as he got to his feet.

Malak was not as blind as Luke. He could sense the boy's power and folded his arms as he studied the boy. The spirit that had been possessing him had been powerful but it hadn't been the source of his power. He, as an individual, was extremely gifted in the Force. What was interesting was that his aura, a vibrant shade of blue, was tainted by blackened splotches, as if the darkness of the spirit had remained.

"Hmph," he mechanically uttered. "Come with me, boy," he ordered.

"According to the information obtained by Princess Leia and General Kenobi, the Death Star became one hundred percent operational nearly a month ago," Admiral Forn of the Rebel Alliance explained as she gestured to a holographic image of the Empire's deadly battle station that was being projected behind her. "The battle station's hull is thicker than a Super Star Destroyer's and has heavy shields surrounding most of it. From what we can tell, it is impervious to almost anything we can throw at it."

The assembly of Rebel pilots and officials that had gathered for this congress all looked at each other uncertainly, no body wanting to ask the obvious questions that Forn's explanation raised. Finally, Carth Onasi spoke up. "If the Death Star is impervious to our attacks, how would we destroy it?"

Forn nodded at him in acknowledgement. "The Death Star has two weaknesses we could exploit. A team of Rebels could board the station and overload the reactor core. That should cause an implosion that would destroy it."

"The Death Star has already been infiltrated once," Master Kenobi spoke from the back of the room beside Bastila Shan. "Darth Vader would not make the same mistake twice."

"The Jedi's right," Forn agreed. "Which means we'll have to take the second option."

"Which is?" a pilot named Wedge Antilles asked as he looked closely at the hologram.

Forn tapped a section of the hologram lightly with his finger, causing it to zoom in on one of the many trenches along the Death Star's surface. "This trench," he stated as he tapped it again, causing it to zoom in even further. "contains a small thermal exhaust port."

A tactical readout of the small hole in the surface of the trench appeared beside it on the hologram. Everyone in the room quickly skimmed its contents and both Carth and Wedge Antilles scoffed. "What good will that do?" Wedge asked. "It's only two meters wide. There's no way to target something that small." Carth merely nodded his agreement.

"That's not true," Leia interjected as she stood up and came to stand beside Admiral Forn. "Take a look at this simulation."

The princess quickly brought up an animated video of what they expected to happen. It showed several X-Wing starfighters approaching the Death Star. A single fighter slipped into the trench and fired a proton torpedo, which maneuvered its way into the exhaust port. The progress of the torpedo was detailed by the animation. It traveled down the port, towards the reactor and struck it dead on. The animation went red and the Death Star exploded.

"That's likely to succeed on a computer," Carth argued. "It might be harder in reality."

"It will be difficult," Forn conceded. "However it is doable. The Emperor had this station designed with a full scale attack in mind. He never considered the idea that a small squadron of one man fighters would be able to do any real damage."

"Maybe he's right," the pilot muttered.

"Carth," Leia snapped in annoyance. "It's possible. It's the best shot we've got. Besides, the SMART technology that has been programmed into the X-Wing's torpedo didn't exist in your time."

"Besides," Obi-Wan added confidently. "We have the Force on our side. While our pilots are attacking the Death Star, Bastila will use her Battle Mediation to aid us."

Carth kept his mouth shut, knowing that to demoralize the Rebels in a time such as this would be unwise, however he was still not overly confident. The last time that she had used that power, she had passed out and Darth Vader had nearly captured them. What would happen if she lost control again? He would discuss this in greater detail with Obi-Wan later though.

Instead of arguing, he chose to say, "It might work." A weight seemed to fell from the shoulders of most of the Rebel pilots in the room, causing Carth to sigh. He wasn't exactly sure why, but all of them seemed to respect and look up to him. He wasn't sure if it was because he was from the past or if it was because of his military record, which C-3P0 had been blabbing to everyone. In either case, he wasn't fond of it. Respect was one thing, but these people seemed to idolize him. The idea of letting them down disturbed him greatly.

"Four squadrons will be involved in the assault on the Death Star," Forn stated, now that the small dispute had been resolved. "Red, Gold, Rogue, and Y squadrons. Red team, you'll Commander Onasi will be your team leader. Gold team, Commander Narra. Rogue Squadron, Commander Antilles. Y squad, Commander Bravo. Any questions?"

No one answered. "Good luck," Forn stated. "And may the Force be with you."

Carth turned away from Forn and moved to speak with Obi-Wan and Bastila, who had not moved from their spot in the back of the room. Shuffling through the small crowd, he finally reached them and looked at Obi-Wan.

"What do you think?" he asked with a frown.

"It won't be easy," the Jedi Master stated. "But, I agree with Princess Leia. It is doable."

"What about you, Bastila? Will you be able to handle your Battle Meditation?" There was no snide tone to Carth's question, nor was there a desire to put her down. It was a simple question, the answer of which could decide the fate of everyone involved in the assault.

The Jedi Knight looked down, unsure of herself. She bit her lip as her eyes studied Carth's boots closely. "I…" she began.

Bastila would have been unsure of herself if their last experience with her Battle Meditation was the only thing on her mind, however it wasn't. Her mind was constantly focusing on Luke and how she had lost him. The Jedi blamed herself for what had happened. The fact that Exar Kun had made it offworld with his body too only made her feel worse. Her failure was probably the most epic in the history of the Jedi Order. She had allowed a padawan to be taken by a Sith Lord and then she had unleashed that same Sith Lord onto the galaxy. At the moment, Bastila had no confidence in her abilities.

"She'll be ready when the time comes," the older Jedi answered Carth. "Come," he said to Bastila. "We should talk."

She nodded absently and the two walked off together, probably back to Obi-Wan's quarters so that they could meditate. The Republic pilot rolled his eyes and turned around. Most of the Rebels had filed out already, leaving only Forn, Leia, Carth, and a few others in the room. Forn and Leia were speaking quietly near the holoprojector. Carth decided that it would be best to take his concerns up with Leia and the admiral privately, so he waited until all of the pilots were gone before he approached them.

"Commander Onasi," Forn greeted warmly. "I figured you had more to say."

"Permission to speak freely, Sir?" Carth requested as he stood at attention.

"I'm not _your_ superior, Commander," the admiral pointed out. "You don't need my permission to do anything."

"Thank you, Sir," he replied as he relaxed slightly. "I want to talk to you about Bastila Shan."

"We know about her condition, Carth," Leia responded. "Obi-Wan has assured us that she'll be ready when the time comes."

"We are launching our attack tomorrow," he stated impatiently. "People don't just snap out of mental depression overnight."

"Then maybe you should speak to her," Forn suggested. "See what you can do."

He shook his head. "She's a Jedi," he stated. "An arrogant Jedi. She won't listen to what a Force-blind military officer has to say. The only person in this time that she respects is Obi-Wan."

"Carth, I've spoken with Bastila before. She's not as cold as she lets on," Leia explained. "Believe me. If she sees that you still believe in her, I think it might help."

The Republic Commander rolled his eyes. "People don't work like that," he stated as he turned away. "They don't just forget their problems because someone believes in them. I know that I didn't."

Whatever Leia said to him after that was lost on deaf ears. He was right. People, soldiers especially, couldn't ignore their feelings after a traumatic experience just because someone else gave them the thumbs up. All of the support from his superior officers and comrades after the bombardment of Telos hadn't done a thing for him. If Bastila was dead set on putting the destruction of the galaxy on her own shoulders, which she seemed to be at this point, there was nothing he could do. He would simply have to go down to the hangar of the Massassi Temple, hop into the X-Wing that had been assigned to him, and continue to familiarize himself with the controls and the external droid interface.


	10. Victory

**The Darkest Lord  
Chapter X: Death Star Destruction **

Luke Skywalker wasn't the same person he had been when he traveled through the forests of Yavin two weeks previously. The spirit of an ancient Sith Lord had violated him, entering his body and stripping him of all control that he had over himself. He had been locked away in the darkest recesses of his own mind and it had been worse than any level of Hell possibly could be. He likened his experience to being clinically brain dead. His own body had been a prison from which there was no escape. He was simply trapped, unable to breathe or move even the slightest muscle by himself. That in itself would have been enough to change him forever. Unfortunately, that had not been all that there had been to it.

Exar Kun had been one of the darkest Sith Lords to ever live. Even the Dark Lord, Bane, and the Emperor himself would have been hard pressed to produce a blacker void of existence than Kun lived in. That abyss that the ancient Dark Jedi had carried with him for four millennia had engulfed Luke. While he had been paralyzed within his own body, that evil had tortured him. It perused his mind and exploited his own darkest memories in order to gain power over him. The death of his aunt and uncle, which he had tried so hard to repress, suddenly seemed so real to him. He would never see either of them again. His uncle, who had worked so hard to put food on the table every night, had died at the hands of Imperial soldiers who were still alive. The man, despite his gruff and occasionally strict parenting style, had loved him. The twin suns of Tatooine had beat down on the man's back for nineteen years as he had worked on the farm to produce the much coveted water that was so scarce within the Dune Seas. His aunt, on the other hand, had always treated him like her own. She had been kind and loving. When he had been a child, she had tucked him into bed most nights and read stories until he fell asleep. She had spent the little money that the family had had to buy him his speeder when he had turned eighteen, even though it had nearly indebted them to Angio the Hutt. That was all gone now. They would never smile at him again. They had been slaughtered like animals by people that wanted to suppress and subjugate their citizens in order to live more comfortably. The Emperor and Darth Vader were sick men. They both deserved to die!

Interestingly enough, however, the dark thoughts and emotions were not the only thing that Kun had left inside of his host's body. Just as Kun had been able to draw on Luke's memories and thoughts in order to familiarize himself with the galaxy around him, Luke could pull certain thoughts that had not faded from when the Dark Lord was destroyed to the surface of his mind. Kun had kept most of his thoughts and memories shielded from the part of Luke's mind that he had been sealed away in, but not all. The Jedi and Sith knowledge had flowed freely, as it would have been no use to his prisoner. It was now.

In the course of two weeks, Exar Kun had inadvertently taught Luke Skywalker more about the Force and how to manipulate it than any Jedi Master had ever been able to teach his or her student within two months. His potential had been unlocked within the blink of an eye. His lightsaber, which was lying on the ground beside him, no longer seemed like a foreign weapon without practicality. Instead it looked like a friend that he had neglected for several weeks unjustly.

His eyes darted from the weapon that his father had left to him before he had died, to the Dark Lord that stood over him, hand extended towards him. This man had vanquished Exar Kun from his body, so the young moisture farmer was grateful to him, but that didn't mean that he would unwisely let his guard down. He accepted the hand offered to him and allowed Darth Malak to pull him to his feet.

"My name is Luke Skywalker," he said politely with a thankful nod.

Malak lifted the fallen lightsaber that the young man had been eyeing thoughtfully off of the ground and brought it to the boy's chest level, pointed away from him. A cushion of air supported the weapon as it hovered in front of its owner. Deciding that the man before him was sincere, Luke took the weapon and clipped it to his belt, thankful to know that it was in its rightful place.

"I am Darth Malak," the bald human replied as he folded his arms.

The young Jedi remembered the name from when Bastila had described her experiences in the past. Malak was Darth Revan's apprentice and a former Jedi Knight who had become famous during the Mandalorian Wars. Mechanical jaw aside, the Sith Lord was not what Luke had pictured. He had expected someone like Revan, who was dressed in thick armored robes and kept his face covered. In any case, it didn't matter. He had saved his life and Luke took that as a sign that he could trust the Dark Lord for the time being.

"When you said, 'come with me,' where did you mean for me to follow you to?" Luke asked.

"This planet is a dead world, Luke Skywalker," the former Jedi replied. "I am offering you transport off world."

"And from there?"

The question caused Malak to chuckle. He had considered taking Luke back to the Star Forge. Revan had been on Alzac for two weeks now and it was likely that he would be leaving his apprentice could make it back to the superstation. Once the Lord of the Sith returned to their base of operations, he would discover that his apprentice had nearly killed the woman that he loved, leaving her in a catatonic state from which she would probably never wake. On top of that, he had left her in the care of a treacherous old woman who had probably injected poison into the dying woman's IV out of spite. All in all, Malak did not want to be near Revan for quite some time. Nonetheless, he would have to deal with it. Perhaps bringing someone as powerful as Luke before the Dark Lord would be enough to assuage his anger… or it would lead him to take Luke as a new apprentice after he killed Malak.

The Dark Lord pushed the thought out of his head and scratched his bald head. "The planet Rakata," he answered. "You could be of use to the Sith Empire there."

"Why would I want to work for the Sith?" Luke tested.

"Because I can feel the torment inside of you, boy. You want power. You want the power to destroy Darth Vader for what he did to your family." Luke's eyes widened at the fact that his mind had been read without his knowledge. "You want the power to kill the Emperor and impress that little Jedi friend of yours. I can bring you that."

"Why would you want to help me?" he challenged again.

The former Jedi actually chuckled at this one. "I just lost one of my most powerful students," he pointed out in reference to the fallen Bandon. "You would serve as a more qualified replacement. Join the Sith and you can have your revenge."

Luke turned his options over in his head for a moment. Two weeks ago, he would have rather died than join the Sith. Bastila had warned him of their ways and how terrible Revan and Malak were in particular. She had also told him of the evil of the dark side and how his dark emotions would only make him weak. He was now starting to doubt the validity of that statement. He felt good. He was completely focused on his anger towards Darth Vader and something was running through him like a wildfire. It was a new feeling, one that he could not describe. It was like an adrenaline rush that could not be paralleled by any drug or chemical stimuli of which he could think. If this was the power of the dark side, then he liked it.

Still, Luke did not know the differences between the Jedi and the Sith ways. Assuming that the two orders functioned the same way, except that one honored the light while the other thrived on darkness, he bowed before Malak, as he would have before Ben Kenobi, and said the words, "I will serve you, my master."

Despite the mischaracterization of his position, Malak didn't bother to argue the point. Instead, he laughed. He laughed with his dark, cold mechanical laugh that caused shivers to run down his new student's spine. Things could not be going better for the Sith Empire.

Thirty-seven ships, thirty-six starfighters and one very agile medium sized corvette suddenly shot out of hyperspace. All of the pilots were instantly aware of the moon-sized space station before them and there was no question as to whether or not they were in the right place. Commander Carth Onasi switched on his comm. link between the other eight pilots in his squadron, along with the one that connected him with the Corellian Corvette that was serving as the only capital ship for the mission.

"Red squadron, sound off," he ordered. One by one, all of the pilots counted off their numbers until Daru Tenjel said the final number. "_Rebel I, _this is Red Leader," he spoke into the comm. "all units are accounted for and we are beginning our assault on the target."

"Copy that, Red Leader," Admiral Forn replied. "Good luck, Carth."

The Republic pilot didn't respond. Instead, he addressed his pilots. "Lock S-foils in attack positions," he ordered. "And good luck." All around him, he saw the X-Wings unfolding and changing modes. The somewhat out-of-date pilot simply hoped that he knew what he was doing as he pressed the release button on the dashboard, causing his ship to switch to attack mode like all the others. The controls were similar, yet there had been a lot changes and improvements over the years and he'd only had two weeks to master them. Still, he was by far the most experienced dog fighter in the Alliance and the troops needed a seasoned veteran to lead them into battle against the Imperials.

A loud siren went off, accompanied by a flashing red light on his dashboard. He glanced down and saw three groups of three unidentified bogies coming his way. "Imperial fighters," he warned his men. "Prepare to engage."

The small battalion of TIE fighters soared towards the swarm of Rebel starships, bursts of green plasma firing from their cannons. Carth quickly jammed his control stick to the left, causing his X-Wing to go into a barrel-roll. All of the others in his squadron did the same and no damage was taken. "Return fire!" he ordered.

Several X-Wings began to open fire on the TIEs. Jets of red superheated plasma rocketed through space, forming a wave of energy that threatened to overwhelm the Imperial ships. Most of the Imperial fighters were able to curve upwards, avoiding any damage. One unlucky ship, however, caught a plasma shot on its wing, causing it to spin out of control. Another nearby fighter happened to be too close and the two collided, causing them both to explode.

Carth smirked as a general cheer buzzed into his ear through the intercom. "Don't get carried away," he warned them. "We haven't won yet."

Aboard the _Rebel I, _Bastila Shan stood beside Princess Leia, observing the slowly developing space battle. There was no panic coming from the Death Star, which told her that the Imperials were either unaware of their presence or they were unconcerned. Judging by the TIE fighters, she deduced that it was the latter of the two. Taking a deep breath, she tried to reassure herself that she would be able to handle her part of the mission. The Jedi Code ran through her mind, though it brought her little comfort at the moment.

Despite her relatively insignificant amount of training in the Force, Leia was able to sense something amiss coming from Bastila. She glanced at her, diverting her attention from the battle momentarily. The princess could clearly see the look of uncertainty drawn on the Jedi's pale features.

"Bastila, you can do this," her apprentice assured her.

"The dark side is strong within that station," the Jedi Knight answered. "Darth Vader is aboard."

"Ignore him," Obi-Wan Kenobi stated as he came up behind the two women.

They both turned to him, surprised by his presence aboard the ship. "I thought you had stayed on Yavin," Leia stated as she folded her arms. "What are you doing here?"

The Jedi Master did not answer as he strode to the window, gazing out at the Death Star. He crossed his arms over his chest as he watched the X-Wings do battle with the Imperial TIE fighters. The other two did the same. "Darth Vader is not your concern, young Bastila," the older Jedi explained. "His will cannot be so easily bent. You have neither the years, nor the experience to accomplish such a feat. Concentrate your efforts on the soldiers."

She nodded, though she didn't exactly feel much better about herself. Knowing that it was time to enter the battle herself, she fell to her knees and folded her hands in her lap. Her eyelids slid shut and she began to concentrate. The raging battle outside of the hull of the _Rebel I _was unheard in the vacuum of space, but the ambient noise around her screamed in her ears. Each breath taken Princess Leia and Master Kenobi rang louder in her ears than the high pitched hissing sound of two lightsabers crossing in a heated duel. Her mind needed to tune such distractions out in order to perform efficiently. The blaring hum of near silence was overwhelming as the other two in the room tried to remain quiet so as not to disturb her. Even so, she suddenly felt that each and every tiny sound was like an explosion in her ears. She couldn't focus on the task at hand, even though the mission may very well have depended on it.

Without the Battle Meditation, the battle was a struggle for the Rebel pilots. Wedge Antilles was hard pressed to keep enemy fighters off of his back. He had taken some damage that was worth considering and his astromech droid was having trouble with repairs. His shields were down to sixty-nine percent and the ships hadn't even made it close to the Death Star yet. Four X-Wings had already been destroyed; their pilots killed. Those in his squadron had been reporting serious damages and the battle had only been going for less than twenty minutes.

"This is Rogue Leader," he said into his intercom. "Come in _Rebel I._"

"This is _Rebel I,_" Admiral Forn answered from the bridge. "Go ahead Rogue Leader."

"The situation doesn't look good, Forn," the young pilot answered.

Bastila opened her eyes and stood up. "I can't do it," she cried out in anguish. "I can't!"

Leia put her hand on her master's shoulder confidently. "How is it done?" she asked. "I'll do it."

"You can't!" the Jedi Knight answered. "It's too difficult."

"It needs to be done."

"But…"

"Bastila!" Leia cried. "The Rebels won't last long if we don't move quickly!"

"But…"

"We can do this. You've taught me meditation techniques. Teach me this one." Leia reached out and took Bastila's hands into her own.

Something inside of Bastila snapped. She nodded at her apprentice and fell back to her knees. Leia slid off her headset and handed it to Obi-Wan. "General Kenobi, take over," she ordered as she locked eyes with the other young woman. "Bastila, we can do this."

The two Jedi closed their eyes and began to concentrate. Leia didn't know what she was doing. She knew how to meditate on the Force and how to feel it flow through her. Its warmth had touched her, like the heat of a young star being born into the universe. Its infinite power had touched her, though she could only grasp at it and try to make it her own. Its true energy slipped through her fingers, however, like water. Despite all of this, she didn't feel nervous. With Bastila, a woman she respected and secretly looked up to as a Jedi Knight, she felt that she would be able to accomplish this. Ironically, Bastila's security came from the fact that Leia was there to support her and supplement her powers with her own. The Force began to flow between the two women. Obi-Wan watched them both, having never seen a Jedi Knight as young as Bastila and a padawan with as little experience as Leia perform a successful mind meld. More importantly, he had never heard of two Jedi performing a dual Battle Meditation.

The Jedi Master knew the facts surrounding the two Jedi before him. Bastila was a nineteen year old Jedi with the training equivalent to that of a padawan. She had not undergone the Trials of Knighthood. Her Battle Meditation was probably the only reason that she had been brought forward in time. As far as training went, she was nothing exceptional. Her lightsaber skills were average and her Force forms were modest at best. Leia was even less outstanding. She had never held a lightsaber before. She did not know how to act as a living extension of the Force, rather than an individual who would simply wield its power. She did not understand different forms of Force application. At best, she could only move a few objects with her mind and simply feel the presence of the Force during intense meditation. The odds were highly stacked against the two. Yet the power in the room was nearly palpable. The atoms in the air were charged with energy as the two worked with one another. Their raw potential, which was very great for both, was playing a greater factor than any level of training. The Living Force worked through them. It flowed freely between the two. They acted as an amplifier, increasing the power in the air and redirecting it towards the battle field.

"Wow!" Carth Onasi and Wedge Antilles both gasped simultaneously.

A complex system of work began to work between the two Jedi. Leia's natural Force energy was far greater than Bastila's and provided the oomph that they needed to affect all of the Rebels and the entire Imperial force aboard the Death Star. Her natural reservoir of Force ability was a pool that Bastila was able to reach into and manipulate. The waters of that pool were either converted into moral and high spirits with one hand, or despair, darkness, and hopelessness with the other.

Leia had never been in such close contact with the Force before. As previously mentioned, she had been able to grasp at wisps of its energy by herself through long hours of deep meditation. Now, for the first time, it surrounded her. Its very essence had consumed her and she felt more alive than she ever had in the past. It was breathtaking, what she was feeling now. The light of the entire galaxy was shining upon her and she felt for the first time what it truly meant to be a part of the Force.

The battle suddenly turned for the Rebels. Within mere minutes, they were able to flank the Imperial fighters that were firing upon them. Most of the TIEs that had been dispatched from the Death Star were destroyed quickly. A few had the good sense to flee. These unfortunate Imperials were quickly tailed by the unforgiving Commander Onasi, who gunned them down without incident.

Aboard the Death Star, the situation was critical. Darth Vader stood inside of a conference room, along with the moffs that had been placed in command of the superstation. The Imperial officers, like all of the other Force blinds inside of the monstrous technological masterpiece's confines, had been overcome by a gripping terror and exhaustion that no one could explain. Even the Dark Lord, who was without doubt one of the most powerful Force users currently in the galaxy, could feel its effects. His sheer will power was all that prevented him from falling apart like the Stormtroopers in the halls.

Vader folded his arms and scowled beneath his armored helmet. That Jedi that had invaded his mind a few weeks previously was aboard the Rebel ship that was just out of firing range of the Death Star's defenses. She was harming the Empire's efforts. He needed to find a way of rendering her efforts ineffective. He turned to one of the officers who seemed to be in the most in control of her actions.

"Do not dispatch anymore TIE fighters," he told her. "Activate the Death Star's auto-turrets to deal with the Rebels. Our men are worthless now."

"Yes Lord Vader," she replied.

The Dark Lord turned away and stormed out of the room, towards Hangar Seven, where his personal TIE Interceptor was waiting.

As Vader traveled towards his ship, the Rebel pilots were able to break through Imperial forces and make their way towards the Death Star itself. The twenty-three remaining X-Wings and seven remaining Y-Wings soared towards the massive superstructure in a single formation. The slower moving Y-Wings lagged behind their speedier allies, but they still made good progress. Within just a few minutes, the distance between the ships and the Death Star was closed and the Rebels began to comb the surface of the Imperial's greatest weapon.

"Head straight for the trench," Carth ordered. "Y Squadron, you're in charge of destroying this damn thing. Don't worry about enemy fire. We'll cover you."

"Roger," the leader of Y squad answered.

The Y-Wings broke formation and dove towards the trench. Carth watched confidently as they entered and began towards the exhaust port. Interestingly enough, there didn't seem to be any TIE fighters around, leading him to believe that they had destroyed all of them already. Thinking the Y's to be safe, he decided to secure their position, rather than provide complete cover.

"Rogue Squadron," he spoke into his comm. "Make for the hangars. I want two X-Wings stationed outside of each one. If any Imperials try to send out more ships, send a torpedo into their hangar."

"Copy that," Wedge replied.

"Gold Squadron, fan out around the Death Star. If anymore TIEs are coming, take them out." Carth waited for an affirmation before he continued. "Red Squad, follow me. We'll give cover to the Y-Wings."

"Yes sir," his men reported.

He threw the control sticks forward, causing his X-Wing to go into a dangerous dive, which he aptly pulled out of as he entered the trench. Large turrets had already sprawled up from the ground of the Death Star. Green plasma bursts rained towards the X and Y-Wings, catching several of them off guard.

"Damn!" Carth swore as he saw three of his ships explode around him.

"Two Y-Wings down," someone reported.

Carth repeated his profane swear and shook his head. "Return fire," he ordered.

Red and green plasma bolts fired in each direction, creating a deadly volley of energy within the trench. Sparks filled the trench as blaster shots from the turrets and starfighters landed on the walls. Several of the turrets were destroyed as they progressed through the trench, though none of the X-Wings were.

Further along in the trench, however, beyond the range of any of the Rebel ships' scanners, an unusual turret popped up out of the hull and began to charge. This small weapon, while insignificant looking, was actually a scaled down version of the Death Star's superlaser. It had no where near the power of its larger counterpart, though, with only about one thousandth of the power. Still, it was more than capable of finishing off a couple of starfighters, which was its only purpose. A green light began to build up as it charged its energy. A moment later, a jet of emerald colored plasma spiraled through space. It ripped through the wing of an X-Wing and went directly through the nose of an oncoming Y-Wing. Normally, the loss of two men would be cause for mourning, but under the current situation, it was only worse. The trench was very narrow, ending at approximately ten meters. From wing to wing, the X-Wings barely had enough room to fit. The pilots had to fly carefully in order to avoid collisions with one another. When two ships lost control, it resulted in a pile up that scrapped four additional ships.

Carth groaned angrily. "Watch out for that laser," he warned.

Another blast tore through the tightly-knitted cluster of ships, trashing three more. Carth roared in frustration, knowing that they were easy targets for that laser's targeting system. He pulled up, bringing himself out of the trench. No longer needing to avoid the myriad of obstacles within the channel that formed a ring around the station, the Republic commander activated his X-Wing's thrusters, propelling him forward. As he went, he saw another jet of green spiral beneath him. He didn't even want to know how much damage that one had done.

He quickly switched on his targeting computer, which was currently locked on to the exhaust port at the very end. He keyed in a quick command, causing it to redirect to the much closer laser. His thumbs jammed down on the button on top of his control stick, sending a proton torepedo down towards the automatic weapon. A large explosion rocked the Death Star, knocking several soldiers off their feet. The laser was trashed by the attack. Contented, Carth fell back into position with the rest of his men.

"Report. How much damage did that last attack do?" he asked.

"We've lost the remainder of our Y-Wings," someone responded. "We'll have to make the attack ourselves."

"That makes things more difficult," the pilot said with a sigh. "How many X-Wings are left here in the trench?"

"Four," one of the other pilots answered.

"Alright."

"Carth!" Wedge's voice came through the intercom over a buzz of static. "The Imperials have pulled our X-Wings manning the hangars in with advanced tractor beams."

"I thought we disabled those permanently," he growled in response.

"Apparently not. The pilots are dead, Carth. The Imperials destroyed the ships before we could respond."

"Forn, did you get that?" he asked.

"Yes Red Leader," the admiral responded. "We're recalculating our options. There are eight X-Wings remaining and no Y-Wings."

"Don't add any more to the trench," Wedge advised. "It's a good thinning point. They'll slaughter us!"

Carth nodded, although no one could see it, and increased his thrusters to a dangerous point. He had to swerve and roll and do every conceivable stung imaginable just to avoid colliding with the structures within the canal.

"Carth, what are you doing?" Forn cried over the comm.

"I'm fine," he replied. "I'm ending this mission before we lose anymore men."

"TIE Interceptor coming your way!" Wedge warned. "Unidentified vessel in pursuit."

"What?" Forn and Carth exclaimed at the same time.

"YT-1300 freighter," Wedge confirmed. "Coming in fast."

Several jets of green plasma rained down towards Carth, which he narrowly avoided. He glanced down at his scanner and saw a newer model TIE fighter approaching. More plasma bolts tore through space, attempting to wipe the X-Wing out of the sky.

"Wedge, I need cover!" he called out.

"I'll never make it in time!" the younger pilot despaired as he attempted a futile rescue mission.

From within his TIE interceptor, Darth Vader adjusted his targeting computer, centering Carth's X-Wing. The Rebel starfighter lurched out of the way just before the Dark Lord fired, causing him to pause. That Jedi that was warping the minds of those aboard the Death Star was becoming a real nuisance. Even with increased vigor, the pilot in front of him would never have been able to outmaneuver him if he was at his maximum potential.

"I will kill you," he seethed under his breath as he readjusted his computer sights. Carth swerved back and forth in order to avoid enemy fire, but the black armored Sith Lord was finally able to target him. They fell into a rhythm with one another. Vader began to mirror his prey's movements, realizing that they weren't random at all. They just appeared to be. Once the two starships were moving in the exact same fashion, it became much simpler to lock on.

"Goodbye," he said as he rested his finger on the trigger.

Vader's ship suddenly lurched, causing him to misfire. The two green jets of plasma hit the trench wall harmlessly, while Vader slammed into the other side, skidding across its metal surface. With a loud groan, he was able to pull his ship upwards in order to avoid collision with any surface of the Death Star. As he went, a gray freighter soared past him and he realized that that ship had fired on him.

Aboard the _Millennium Falcon, _Han Solo laughed to himself as he watched Vader's ship go sprawling for safety. "Better run," he muttered. The rouge smuggler opened a channel between himself and Carth's X-Wing by keying a few commands into the system.

"Alright Carth, show me how good you really are. Let's blow this joint and go home!"

Carth was unable to believe his ears when he heard the Han's voice but he wasn't about to argue with him. He turned to his targeting computer and saw that he had five seconds until he reached the target point. The seconds ticked downwards on his computer until they finally reached zero. A white torpedo fired from the X-Wing's cannon, towards the thermal exhaust port. The Republic pilot watched as it slid smoothly into the target and he knew that they didn't have much time left.

"We have to move fast!" he cried out. "All ships, fly out of here. This place is about to blow!"

None of the surviving pilots needed anything else to get them moving. All of them reversed their course and set thrusters to maximum burn. The last four X-Wings, along with the _Millennium Falcon, _soared towards the _Rebel I. _

Bastila Shan and Princess Leia both stood up, watching the Death Star closely. A loud cheer erupted the moment that the monstrous machine exploded, sending debris and rubble out in every direction. The two women turned to one another and pulled each other into a close embrace.

"We did it!" Leia cheered.

Obi-Wan watched the two with a satisfied smile and turned away. They didn't notice as he left the room. The master and the apprentice deserved their moment of triumph.

Four X-Wing starfighters, along with a single medium sized Corellian corvette, and a YT-1300 class light freighter gracefully slid into the hangar of the Massassi Temple back on the fourth moon of the Yavin system. Several garage crew workers instantly ran towards the ships that they had doted on for so many months, eager to inspect them for any damages and begin repairs. The pilots soon began to emerge from their X-Wings and the astromech droids were quickly ejected. The boarding ramps of both the _Rebel I _and the _Millennium Falcon_ descended and those aboard quickly ran out.

Carth Onasi dropped down from his X-Wing and saw that Princess Leia was rushing towards him. She flung her arms around his neck and pulled him into a close hug. "You did it." The two broke apart and she cast him a coy smile. "And you said we would all die."

The pilot chuckled and glanced over her shoulder. She saw this and turned around. Her eyes lit up as Han Solo came towards them. Before the smuggler to get to Carth, whom he was actually trying to speak with, Leia rushed him too. "I knew you wouldn't just abandon us!" she screamed with triumph. "I knew it!" She planted a soft kiss on his cheek and hugged him closely.

_Hugs all around. _Carth thought with a smile as the princess ran to embrace Chewbacca, who was standing not far behind Han. The two men approached each other and Han offered his hand to Carth. With a nod, the Republic commander took it and they shook briefly. "You did good," the scruffy smuggler said in earnest. "I'm impressed."

"Wouldn't have happened if you hadn't shown up," the older man pointed out. "I owe you my life."

"Don't mention it."

"Where did you go, anyway?" Carth felt compelled to ask.

Han turned back towards his ship and pointed at the boarding ramp. Obi-Wan Kenobi was standing beside a small, little green alien that looked oddly similar to the Jedi Master who had briefed Carth and the strike team that had attacked the _Spirit of Revenge. _The two were engrossed in a deep conversation and seemed to be unaware of what was going on around them.

"Who is that?" he asked.

"His name is Yoda," Han replied. "The old man sent me to Dagobah to go find him. Apparently he's a Jedi Master."

"More Jedi," the pilot groaned as he rolled his eyes. "Just what we need."

"Jedi trouble?" his ally asked.

"I'll fill you in later."

Before they could continue, Bastila and Leia approached them, both with very wide smiles on their faces. "Forn wants us all to head over for debriefing. He says we can celebrate later," Leia explained.

"Let's go then," Han agreed.

The briefing went as expected. The Rebel officials congratulated everyone who had survived and then they all took a few minutes to mourn those who had been lost in the assault. Once the official routine was over, they were dismissed. Before anyone could start for the mess hall for some well deserved celebrating, Obi-Wan intervened. "I'd like everyone to meet outside for an important discussion," he told them.

Grudgingly, they all agreed. Five minutes later, Carth Onasi, Han Solo, Chewbacca, Princess Leia, Bastila Shan, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Jedi Master Yoda were all assembled in a large circle, just outside of the hangar. Obi-Wan began to discussion.

"First off, I want to congratulate all of you myself," he began. "Carth, your piloting skills were beyond what I can begin to describe. You are one of the most talented men I know. You did well."

"Thank you, Master Kenobi," he replied gratefully.

"And you two," he said as he turned to Bastila and Leia, who were standing beside one another. "What you two accomplished today was beyond what most of the Jedi Masters of the Old Republic could have imagined. I am very proud of the both of you." They turned to each other and then back to Obi-Wan with wide grins on their faces. "But there is something that must be considered," the Jedi Master continued. "Such a feat could not have been accomplished normally. You two unwittingly broke the barrier that separates your minds from one another. Are you aware of that?" The joyous tone of the meeting suddenly seemed a bit darker at the old man's somewhat reprimanding remark. The two women looked at each other uncertainly before Bastila spoke up.

"Master Kenobi, I don't understand," she answered. "What do you mean."

"Powerful in the Force, you two are," Yoda replied. "And now, very close. I Force bond, I do detect."

"A Force bond?" Han asked. "What the hell is that?"

"It is a mental link that two Jedi can form between one another," Obi-Wan answered. "It is common for such links to form between a master and her apprentice, though I have never heard of one developing so rapidly."

"Nor have I," Yoda agreed. "Nor have I seen one so strong before. See you, I can, in her," he said with a gesture from Bastila towards Leia. "Interesting."

"What does a Force bond do?" the princess asked, still unsure of what they were trying to tell her.

"People that are bonded to one another are dependent on one another. You will be able to see glimpses into each other's mind. Some of your feelings will show through Bastila and vice-versa."

"A powerful tool, it can be however," the small green Jedi Master pointed out. "Much more rapidly, your training will go," he said to Leia.

"How does that work?" Carth asked.

"Complicated, it is," the Jedi answered. "Allows an apprentice to learn through her master, it does."

"Whatever Bastila does, Leia will feel. I always thought of it as a combination of hands on training and studying."

"I don't know how I feel about this," the princess stated as she backed away. "I need to think."

"Of course," Obi-Wan said understandingly. "But I would advise you not to take too long. The Death Star may have been lost but the Emperor is still a child of the dark side. We cannot begin to celebrate until he has been destroyed."

"Agreed," Yoda stated firmly.

Leia nodded and turned away. Bastila watched her apprentice go, noting that she could feel some of Leia's confusion herself. "Interesting," she commented.

"Knight Bastila," Yoda said, pulling her mind from the bond momentarily.

"Allow me to introduce Jedi Master Yoda," Obi-Wan stated with a gesture towards the short Jedi. "Former Grand Master of the Jedi Order."

"Grand Master," the knight repeated. Yoda nodded.

"A pleasure it is, to meet you," he replied. "Powerful, your Battle Meditation is. Impressive to see it is, in someone so young."

"Thank you, Master," she responded with a respectful bow.

"You are welcome," he said warmly. "Master Kenobi," he said as he turned to his old friend. "More there is to discuss?"

"Yes. It is in regards to my new apprentice."

"Ah yes," the green alien said with a nod. "Informed me of young Skywalker, Captain Solo did."

"He's been captured."

Han's eyes widened at the news. He had been curious as to where the kid had been since he had arrived, but he hadn't feared anything. No one had mentioned that he had been involved with the Death Star attack, so he had assumed that the boy was still alive. Yoda was having a similar panicked reaction. He shook his head gravely and sighed loudly.

"By the Empire?" he asked.

"No. By a spirit," Bastila answered. "It was my fault."

"No it wasn't, Bastila!" Carth interjected. "You've been beating yourself up for two weeks because you couldn't stop a very powerful Sith Lord. We're lucky that you're alive! You never did anything wrong."

"I thank you for your kind words, Carth, but if Luke hadn't stayed behind to protect me, he wouldn't have been captured."

"Who captured him?" Han interrupted.

"You wouldn't know him," Carth snapped, not appreciating the interruption. "And what if he had just followed us back to the base? What if he took Leia and Obi-Wan instead? What then?"

"Luke was defenseless. If he had been with Master Kenobi, he would have been safer!" she insisted.

"That's not true," the older Jedi argued. "I am not as powerful as you seem to think."

"You're still wiser than I am," she responded.

"Seriously, who has Luke?" Han asked again, which was followed by a loud groan from Chewbacca.

"Enough!" Yoda cried out. "Tense, you all are. Calm, you must be. Knight Shan, who has Luke Skywalker?"

Bastila sighed and her rain cloud colored eyes met the alien's green ones. "A Sith Lord from my time, Master Yoda," she answered despairingly. "He was Darth Revan's predecessor in the line of Lords of the Sith. He was killed before the Mandalorian Wars, but his spirit has lied dormant here on Yavin ever since. His name is Exar Kun."

Yoda remained silent for several moments before he looked up to Obi-Wan. "Meditate on this, I must. Failed, Master Kenobi, you have not. Nor you, Knight Shan. A powerful Sith Lord, Exar Kun was. Could have defeated him, even I could not."

"We have to find Luke," his master stated. "At all costs."

"The Force, I feel, will bring him to us. Patient, we must be."

"So now what?" Carth wanted to know.

"Celebrate, you should. Earned it, you all have."

_Damn right._ Carth thought with a smirk. The group turned away from the two Jedi Masters and started inside. Chewie growled something insulting about Yoda's scent, which only Han understood. "You said it, Chewie," the smuggler agreed.


	11. Ambush

**The Darkest Lord**

**Chapter XI: Ambush**

Darth Revan felt his ship lurch violently as the hyperspace tunnels surrounding it vanished from sight, replaced by the endless black backdrop of space, dotted only with shimmering stars. His first instinct was that someone, perhaps Captain Sazer, had been navigating improperly, which would account for an early exit from hyperspace, but he quickly discarded the notion. The ship's jerking movement, which had knocked most of the officers surrounding him out of their chairs and onto the floor, had been too sudden. He looked towards Sazer, who was scrambling to return to his station. The Dark Lord had a feeling that he knew exactly what his flagship's captain would say, however. They were under attack.

"Lord Revan, we've been pulled from hyperspace!" he confirmed.

"Imperials?" Revan asked as he approached the Sith man calmly.

"I believe so," he replied. "There's a small fleet waiting for us!"

The former Jedi Knight looked at the captain's scanner. Indeed, a full-scale Imperial fleet had been prepared for their arrival. At least two dozen star destroyers, along with twenty light escort vehicles, accompanied by a swarm of TIE fighters were hovering above a nearby planet. Beneath his mask, Revan's eyes widened slightly. How had they known that the Sith and Mandalorian forces would be coming? The fact that they had determined where they would be at what time implied only one thing: a mole. Someone within their group had sold them out to the Empire. His fist clenched violently.

"Lord Revan, they've sent a transmission," Sazer reported.

"Play it," he ordered.

Sazer quickly keyed a few quick commands into his computer and a holographic image sprouted out of a small projector. A small man was now looking up at Revan, his arms folded over his chest and his posture altogether tall and confident. The Dark Lord couldn't be sure, due to the blue representation of the man's image, but his skin did not appear to be normal. It was a deeper shade of blue than most holographic images of any humans, though not in the same fashion as a dark skinned man's. He had a sneaking suspicion that whoever was standing in front of him was not entirely human. Judging by the number of metals and honors on the left side of his uniform, he was an accomplished military official. Revan, despite his fury, was intrigued.

"Darth Revan," the man said with a heavily accented core world voice. "In the name of the Galactic Empire and his supreme Majesty, Emperor Palpatine, you are to deactivate all of your ships and surrender to our forces. If you do not comply, we will open fire."

"Shut it off," Revan ordered after hearing only this. "This bastard has no idea what he just walked into." Sazer did as he was ordered and the image vanished before it could finish its speech. "Captain, red alert. Have everyone report to their battle stations and send word to the rest of the fleet."

"Yes sir."

Aboard the Star Destroyer leading the small Imperial fleet, Mitth'raw'nuruodo, better known to the galaxy as Grand Admiral Thrawn, smirked as he saw the red light above his holocapturer, indicating that his transmission to the _Spirit of Revenge _had been cut and the Sith would not be complying with orders. "Captain Pellaeon," he said smoothly as he turned to the senior officer aboard his ship. "Engage."

"Yes sir," the middle aged Imperial replied as he stroked his thick mustache.

The TIE fighters suddenly shot forward, no longer restrained by orders to cease fire, towards the Sith and Mandalorian ships. Before they were in firing range of their enemies, however, a wave of Sith fighters were rocketing towards them, the first line of defense for Revan's men. The two groups of starships converged on each other's position and the dogfights broke out. Jets of red and green superheated plasma shot back and forth between the two forces. The Imperial TIEs had a major advantage in terms of speed, though their design, light shielding, and thin exterior made them very vulnerable to damage. A single shot from a Sith fighter could easily tear right through a TIE, whereas the TIEs had time fire several times before any of their enemies would fall.

Before too long, superior speed won out and the TIEs were flying past the Sith, towards their capital ships. Revan, from the bridge of his ship, saw this and was quick to retaliate. "Fire on them before they get near us," he ordered.

The Sith Interdictor ships began to fire enormous jets of fiery red plasma at the incoming TIEs, taking out two or three with each successful shot. Meanwhile, the Mandalorian ships, under the command of Gladius Vevut, moved to attack the Imperial command vessels. The Mandalorian corvettes, swift and nimble medium sized transports, shot forward, their eyes set on the shield generators at the top of each star destroyer. Thrawn saw this threat before it was even a concern and snickered. Six of the nineteen corvettes were destroyed before they could even come close to the star destroyers. To their victory, though, one of the corvettes' dieing act proved useful. The ship, unable to control itself, spun out of control and smashed into the nearest Imperial capital ship. The damage was not severe but the deflector shields were knocked out, leaving it vulnerable even to the fire of one-man star fighters.

Upon receiving orders to attack, rather than defend the fleet, the Sith fighters all swarmed towards this one damaged ship, firing on it ceaselessly. One fighter, piloted by a woman named Sarna, fired three successive shots at the vessel's main viewport. The glass shattered, creating a vacuum on the bridge. All important crew members within were sucked out into space, leaving the transport unmanned for the most part. It slowly began to sink, falling out of line with the rest of the fleet. The ship was dead in the water. The Sith never gave it a second glance, turning their attention to the rest of the Imperial force.

"Boarding crafts," Thrawn stated calmly.

Heavily armored ships containing legions of Stormtroopers were dispatched from the Imperial capital ships, which the Sith knew to contain field soldiers. The pilots of these vehicles were all well trained, top of the Imperial Academy, and were able to successfully maneuver in and out of the way of blaster fire. Only a few of them were destroyed by the time that they reached the Sith and Mandalorian vessels. One by one, they began to latch onto the airlocks of their enemy's transports before the Stormtroopers planted explosives at the doors, blowing the heavy metal doors out of the way.

On the bridge of the _Spirit of Revenge, _Sazer read an incoming security transmission. His eyes widened and he turned to face his commander. "Lord Revan!" he cried out. "We've been boarded!"

"Clever," the Dark Lord conceded to his opponents. "Which airlocks did they come through?"

"Two in the hangar, the engineering lock, and one near our armory," came the response.

That wasn't good. Security in the hangar wouldn't be a problem. His troops could repel the invaders without much effort, but engineering and the armory were different stories. The ship's reactor did not merit security most of the time, seeing as how few enemies ever attempted to enter through the airlocks. They were narrow entries, which would allow his forces to pick off invaders as they bottlenecked through. Still, he would rather have not chanced such a sensitive area of the ship. The armory contained all of the extra weapons that were stashed on board the _Spirit of Revenge, _including the prototype Imperial-Star Forge hybrid weapons.

While Revan was busy considering his options, one of the golden armored troops stationed on the bridge slid his chair backwards. He stood up and pulled a sword from his hip, inching towards the Dark Lord of the Sith slowly. His grip on the weapon was unusually tight, panic causing him to tense up. The thundering in his chest urging him on, he increased his haste, accelerating towards Revan. He closed the distance between the two with each step he took. Raising his Mandalorian Tremor over his head, he prepared to cleave his target's head clean from his shoulders.

"Lord Revan!" someone cried.

The traitor swung his sword quickly. The warning had come just in time. Revan swerved out of the way, taking only a small clip to the shoulder, which his armor stood up against. Only a small cut in the black fiber marked any sign of attack. The Dark Lord, however, let his fury overwhelm him. A burst of blue-white electricity ripped from his finger tips, dancing across the surface of the golden armored man's body and sizzling the skin beneath his protective garb. A high pitched scream tore through the bridge as the man was electrocuted. This only heightened Revan's anger, causing him to intensify the force of his assault. The tendrils of dark side energy became thicker, forcing the poor man to his knees. Whatever he was trying to scream was unintelligible, though no one in the room had any doubt that it was a plea for mercy. He would receive none. Treason was punishable by death. Attempting to assassinate the Sith Emperor merited a slow, agonizing passing, which would serve as a reminder to all those in the galaxy why they should not cross Revan. Unfortunately, such a death was time consuming and time was limited.

Revan ceased his attack. The golden figure crumpled to the floor, dead. The scent of burnt flesh mixed with superheated metal filled the room. His skin had probably melted away, adhering to the armor. Discovering who the man had been would be impossible now, not that Revan cared all that much. Looking down at him, the former Jedi General snarled. Something caught his notice before he turned away. Crouching down, the Sith Lord scooped up the man's weapon into his hand. His eyes, unless they deceived him, were detecting a sword of Mandalorian design. A thousand questions suddenly began to race through his mind. Had Gladius betrayed him? Had Gladius been betrayed? Had the man before him even been one of the Sith who had come forward in time during the Battle Over Coruscant or had he been a renegade Mandalorian who had stolen Sith armor and stowed away on the _Spirit. _For a fraction of a second, Revan regretted mutilating the man so badly. Then his mind returned to the current situation.

"Sir, Imperials are nearing our position!"

Revan stood up. Sure enough, just as Sazer finished speaking, blaster fire could be heard on the door outside of the bridge. How they had managed to penetrate the Sith forces so quickly would remain a mystery, one which there was no time to ponder. The Dark Lord no longer was sure of who he could trust aboard his ship and would take no chances of letting another mole with privileged information escape. A plan had already started to formulate in his mind. It would mean a large sacrifice but it would be necessary for the good of the Sith Empire.

All of the golden armored Sith in the room had moved from their stations, towards the blast doors. Each one held his or her blaster at the ready, preparing for the moment the Stormtroopers broke through the door and flooded the room. As Sazer pulled a small laser pistol from his belt, Revan called his lightsaber to his gloved hand utilizing only the power of his mind. As the door exploded, sending shrapnel and debris into the midst of the Sith troopers, the crimson blade of the Dark Lord's weapon sprang forth from the hilt, casting a faint red glow across the dark metal floor. With calm, calculated steps, he walked forward, towards the skirmish between his men and the Imperial forces, watching a volley of red energy soar back and forth between the two sides, which took down more of his men than Imperials.

He was the Dark Lord of the Sith. In the short twenty-five years that he had lived, he had accomplished more than most men could accomplish in twenty-five lifetimes. He had been the son of a crime lord on Deralia with no chance of being any more than petty criminal like his father, statistically speaking. His mother, having seen what he was capable of, had turned him over to the Jedi, where he had flourished. Even the most powerful masters were awed by his control of the Force and the sheer magnitude of the raw potential inside of him. At the age of seventeen, he had been promoted to the rank of Jedi Knight. Seventeen! Most Jedi didn't reach that level until their early twenties. Just a year later, he had become the general in command of the Jedi forces of the Republic Navy, leading the crusade against the Mandalorian Neo-Crusaders. The Revanchist he had been called. Within two years, he managed to drive back an unstoppable force, almost driving them to extinction in the process. Once he had learned of the folly of the Jedi Council, he had against elected to take up his lightsaber for the greater good of the Republic. The Jedi, having feared the so called "True Sith" had remained safely in their temples and praxeums, while the galaxy had burned away before them. Symbolically, Revan christened his empire after the Sith, feeling that it was only appropriate that they should be the ones to purge the Jedi from the galaxy. His war with the Jedi, a Jedi Civil War some had called it, had made him known throughout the galaxy. There hadn't been a single man, woman, or child in the Republic that hadn't known his name. Having accomplished all of this, he would not allow it to be ruined by the uncontrollable gluttony that one man had for absolute dominance over the galaxy. All of that had been snatched away from him by a stupid accident, which had sent thousands of Sith into the future. Everything he had worked to accomplish had been tarnished and spoiled by men like this Emperor and men like his predecessor, Darth Bane. The Sith were now known for their lust for power and glory, while he had intended for the Sith to be the cleansing force of the galaxy.

His men were dead. The Stormtroopers had managed to gun down all of their foes using superior numbers and weaponry. There were at least twenty Stormtroopers still alive, with several more corpses dressed in white armor scattered amongst the ones in gold. The odds weren't in his favor. Still, the Force was with him. The dark side was his ally, as it had been for so many years now. They didn't stand a chance.

Blaster bolts began to fly through the air, directly towards him. He moved faster than their cloned eyes could keep up with, sprinting to the side, where a large electrical conduit stood. With a shove of his arm, the voltage channel was ripped from the ground and tossed in the midst of a small group of the troopers. Sparks danced across the floor, striking three or four of the soldiers, paralyzing them momentarily. This gave the Dark Lord time to hurl his saber at them, cutting them down and impaling a fifth Imperial in the chest. With the same velocity as before, Revan closed the distance between himself and his saber. Taking it back into his gloved hand in a reverse grip, he yanked it free and took on a somewhat inexperience Shien form. It was a style he didn't practice often, though the basic concept was a simple one to grasp. The long, sweeping motions it implored were ideal for deflecting blaster fire. Ducking to avoid a well placed shot, Revan crouched down and sprang on two troops that were standing side by side, sweeping his blade across their midsections. A push with the Force sent them rolling out of the destroyed blast doors, into the hall. They were either dead or unconscious. Revan didn't know or care. They weren't a threat anymore.

The remaining baker's dozen of troopers knew that they wouldn't need to change tactics. Having seen Darth Vader's skill with a lightsaber in training simulations, they knew that their blasters were probably worthless at this point. None of them had been equipped with vibroblades though, so there weren't many options. A more imaginative troop dove for a fall Sith soldier, seeing the grenades on her belt. Grabbing them all at once, he pulled the pins free and hurled them in random directions. Revan, with years of experience in the field against much more creative Mandalorians, leapt upwards, grabbing onto an electrical line on the ceiling. The grenades detonated, killing more Stormtroopers. The blast from an adhesive grenade did manage to send some of the azure glue-like substance up towards the Dark Lord. He was forced to drop in order to avoid being stuck to the bridge of the _Spirit's _roof, landing beside a burning body. A single blaster bolt was fired.

Beneath his mask, Revan smirked as he heard the last Imperial soldier drop to the floor. He took a moment to check himself before turning to Captain Sazer, who still held his pistol at the ready. A small billow of smoke from the barrel indicated that it had been he who had killed the last Stormtrooper. _"Loyal," _the Dark Lord thought to himself. Despite the logic of his plan, he saw no need for his captain to be punished as well. Extinguishing his lightsaber, he mentally decided that he would spare the captain's life, if possible.

"Sazer!" he called before he left the bridge. "Send an order to withdraw to the rest of the fleet. Then bring us in as close to the ship leading the Imperials. After that, get to your escape pod and get the hell out of here."

"Lord Revan?" the Sith officer asked as he stood at attention across the room, not believing what he was hearing. "You cannot mean to destroy the _Spirit!_"

"There may be more Imperial spies aboard this ship. I'm sending them all to Hell, along with my ship, if necessary_. _But there's no need for you to be killed too."

"Revan, you can't!" the middle-aged man cried out. In the four years that Sazer had been Revan's captain, he had grown to both respect his commander and love his ship. Seeing anything happen to either of them was not something that he wanted. The self-destruct sequence could only be initiated by overloading the reactor, which would leave Revan with very little time to make his own escape. Unfortunately, he didn't have much of a choice in the matter. If the Lord of the Sith had set his mind to a decision, then arguing was a demonstration of stupidity. Sazer was not a stupid man. Revan didn't need him in order to go through his plan. It would have been a simple matter to have killed the captain and program the _Spirit of Revenge _to fly towards the Imperial fleet before making his way down the reactor. Revan had chosen to spare him. Therefore, his shoulders sagged in defeat and he gave the Dark Lord a resigned nod.

"Gilean," the red and black armored warrior said softly, dropping the captain's last name. "You have been a loyal soldier and a good friend. Take care of yourself."

"You too, Revan."

The Sith Lord turned on his heel and strode out of the room, leaving his officer to fulfill his part of the agreement. Sazer turned to the computer console at the front of the room and began to key in the commands necessary to take them right up to Grand Admiral Thrawn's ship. Before he made his escape, he would get the _Spirit _within spitting distance of the Imperials. The blast from the Interdictor's core meltdown would take out most of transports within a kilometer.

On the other side of the space battle, Grand Admiral Thrawn thought that the battle was going exceptionally well, though he gave no indication of such other than a very faint smirk. The Imperials had completely surrounded the Sith and Mandalorian forces and Stormtroopers had boarded all of the capital ships. All of the large Sith ships had sustained heavy fire and the Mandalorians weren't fairing much better. The Chiss warlord could only picture the havoc his men were wreaking on the outdated warships. His red eyes snapped to attention, however, when he looked out at the battle. Despite constant fire from the TIE fighters, a Sith warship had broken from the ranks and was soaring right towards them at maximum burn. While that one ship came closer and closer, the rest of Darth Revan's forces seemed to be breaking through the Imperial siege in an attempt to flee.

"Do not let them escape," Thrawn ordered Pellaeon.

Based on what he could see, the Grand Admiral merely assumed that the remaining ship had "honorably" decided to ignore the retreat order and go down in a blaze of glory. Not knowing the difference between the two as a result of limited resources on both Mandalorian and ancient Sith technology, the Grand Admiral assumed that the ship was Mandalorian. He was wrong. The _Spirit of Revenge _was jetting forward, towards the Imperial forces in a mad dash. Seeing only a desperate attempt to make a last ditch effort. "Captain," he said to Pellaeon. "Do not fire on that vessel. Activate the tractor beams and prepare a short ranged EMP. We'll shut them down and tow them back to Coruscant for interrogation."

Big mistake.

Back on his vessel, Darth Revan stepped out of the elevator, finding a Dark Jedi that belonged to him engaged in combat with a small group of Stormtroopers. With her twin sabers blazing, the woman was having no trouble deflecting the blaster bolts away from herself, though her lack of experience made it difficult for her to return them to the troops who were firing on her. Although her face was obscured by the black hood that his Dark Jedi wore, Revan was able to recognize her by the series of grunts and battle cries she emitted as she fought. Unless he was mistaken, her name was Wilea, an apprentice of Jorak Uln. Realizing this, he knew that it was small wonder that she hadn't won out against her attackers yet. Knowing that he had little time to spare before Sazer had the _Spirit of Revenge _within striking distance of the Imperial ships, he chose not to extend this conflict. Like a feral Kath Hound, he rushed towards the Stormtroopers, ignoring the shots that struck his armor harmlessly. Once he was in their midst, he used the Force to lift himself into the air and create a dome of energy, which exploded in every direction. The repulsion attack crushed the soldiers, killing most of them and leaving the rest unconscious.

"Lord Revan!" Wilea gasped as she approached him.

Not one to take a chance in a situation as delicate as this, Revan turned to the Dark Jedi and placed a "comforting" hand on her cheek. "I am sorry," he stated honestly, knowing that it was unlikely that she had been a part of the attack on his life. Still, he had work to do. He took her head in both hands and gave a sharp twist. A loud _crack _met his ears and the body crumpled to the floor beneath him. Without a second thought, he continued on with his mission. As he had traveled through the dieing transport, the Dark Lord witnessed how successful the white clad soldiers had been against his own. The Sith had underestimated the strength of Emperor Palpatine's forces, a mistake that would have been inexcusable under any other circumstances. Today, it didn't matter. Every man and woman on his ship was a suspect to him now. In recent years, he had come to trust all of them far too much and it had led to a betrayal. It was a mistake which could only be rectified in one possible way. He would kill them all. The blood spilled by the Stormtroopers cost nothing because the blood of traitors was worth nothing. A demonstration seemed to be in order.

When he had been a padawan, Traya, then a Jedi Master, had taught him something which the Jedi teachings would have frowned upon had they known. The historian had told him that there were times when it became necessary for a leader to be feared in order to keep those subservient to him in line. As a child, this had made little sense. Inflicting fear unto others didn't follow the Jedi way, though he resolved that he would understand when he became older. Sure enough, he came to understand during the Mandalorian Wars. The wars had served as a crucible, which had molded him into a cold, logical leader, who knew how to use every advantage to its fullest. Fear was an advantage that a leader could make do without. Fear had the power to put down rebellion and insurrection. It governed those who would be otherwise outspoken and kept them subservient.

Fear had become his ally. Brilliant student that he was, he had learned to make the most use of it. Demonstrations of power and authority struck fear into the hearts of the Republic and the Sith Empire. Planet-wide suffering had shown the Republic what rebellion after conquest meant. Malak had defied him by ordering an orbital bombardment of Telos, which had reduced the small world to a pile of rubble. At that time, Telos IV had been the only civilized world of the outer rim. Losing it meant losing a powerful structure of control for the Sith. As a result of this, Revan had punished his apprentice. In a fury, the Dark Lord took his lightsaber and severed his apprentice's lower jaw. Once Malak had recovered, his rebellious nature began to diminish. He receded into himself, no longer voicing his opinion and obeying every order to the letter. After seeing the success of this move, it became Revan's policy of punishing the slightest betrayal with the utmost severity. An attempt on his life merited the death of a couple hundred Sith.

At last, the Lord of the Sith came to the reactor core, where the powerful Rakatan energy source, a solar powered siphon that redirected power throughout the ship, glowed eerily. It was contained in a large transparent dome, which prevented any radiation from being emitted into the Interdictor class vessel. A computer terminal had been placed at the northern end of the dome, which controlled all of its activities. Having designed it himself, Revan was the only one that knew how to activate it or use any of its functions. Most of the time, the computer simply ran on autopilot, never needing to be overseen by a sentient being unless a change in the ship's function was made. The Dark Lord came to the computer and began to key in numerous authorization commands, pass codes, and identification verification checkpoints. At the very end, he leaned in towards the small microphone that was attached to the device and spoke. "Darth Revan, system override 4A93H82."

With full access granted to him, the Dark Lord of the Sith set silent core implosion for five minutes. In just five minutes, the entire ship would explode and he hoped to put as much distance between himself and the blast as possible. Whether or not that was possible, remained to be seen. Once a digital countdown began on the computer monitor, Revan took off in the other direction, sprinting towards the escape pods.

The _Spirit of Revenge's _nose slammed into the front of Grand Admiral Thrawn's Imperial transport, causing both crafts the shake violently on impact. The idiots in the weapon's bay of the Chiss warlord's ship had waited too long. Firing an EMP now would result in the complete shutdown of both ships, which they could not afford. The only remaining option was two open fire at point blank range. And so they did. Jets of superheated plasma fired from the Star Destroyer, ripping through portions of the outdated Sith Interdictor. Despite their best efforts, however, the Imperials were too slow. The five minutes ticked by very quickly and the _Spirit of Revenge's _core imploded. The result was a blaze of fire, which engulfed everything in its path. Thrawn's ship was overtaken by the blast and reduced to cinders in mere moments, as were all of the nearby TIE fighters that were attempting to fire of the dieing Sith vessel.

The fleet comprised of Mandalorian and Sith forces had received the order to withdraw and had promptly complied, sustaining moderate casualties. Both sides had lost exactly one major capital ship. Until further study of the scene was done, it would be impossible to tell the exact damage toll. Both sides, however, agreed in their theory about the men lost. Both sides had lost one powerful military figure. The Galactic Empire's thirteenth Grand Admiral had led the ambush on the Sith forces. The destruction of his ship without any warning had resulted in his death. It was also very likely that Darth Revan, who had stayed aboard his ship, had perished as well…

Several lightyears away, another Imperial fleet, this one led by Darth Vader, rolled forward into Mandalorian space. Fifty Star Destroyers, twenty Imperial corvettes, forty light battle cruisers, and countless TIE starfighters followed behind the newly completed _Executor _Super Star Destroyer. Nearly nineteen hundred meters long, the _Executor _sported more firepower than any other ship or space station at the Empire's disposal. Fresh out of the Kuat Drive Yards on Fondor, it made the perfect command vessel to lead the invasion of Mandalorian space. For nearly twenty years, the warrior society had resisted annexation into the Empire, despite the repeated efforts of Darth Sidious. While not ideal, they had not been hurting anything. Simple resistance had been one thing but now they had allied themselves with Darth Revan's Sith Empire, which would not be tolerated. They were more than stubborn conservatives, refusing to conform to the new ways of society. Now it was apparent that they were rebels, no different than those enlisted in the Rebel Alliance. Rebellion was treason. Treason warranted death.

At the heart of the Mandalorian sector, the planet Mandalore stood as the seat of their territory. The ancient race traced its origins to this planet and called it their capital, their home. Taking it from them would be the perfect way to establish the Empire's dominance over them. Trusting no one else with a mission of such importance, the Emperor had sent his apprentice to capture the homeworld and kill the man calling himself Mandalore. Reluctantly, Vader agreed to comply with orders, allowing one of the Grand Admirals to lead the ambush against Revan.

Beside Vader, a Mandalorian named Kalius Fett stood proudly, clad in black Neo-crusader armor that he had fashioned himself. It had been Fett who had betrayed Revan to the Empire and it had been Fett who had hired a mercenary to pose as a Sith soldier in order to kill the Dark Lord. The young Mandalorian had studied history and quickly deduced the true origins of his Sith "comrades." Knowing that Revan had killed Mandalore the Ultimate had justified his assassination. Kalius saw himself as the more honorable of the two and since Revan had killed a Mandalore, he was arguably a Mandalore himself. That moron, Gladius Vevut, was nothing more than a steward, waiting for the true monarch to return. Now that Kalius had arranged for Revan's death, he was the true leader of the Mandalorians.

Having learned all of this, Vader agreed to appoint him leader of the Mandalorians once they were conquered. The two now formed an alliance between the Mandalorians and the Galactic Empire, which would override the alliance with the Sith once Fett became the official Mandalore. Politics had never been his strong suit, but Kalius knew that he was finally going to realize his goal of becoming the Clan Leader of all Clans, as the ancients had called the position. Never for a moment did he suspect that he would be a puppet, controlled by Vader in the Emperor's name.

All he saw was a fleet of Imperial ships, raining fire down on the different Mandalorian worlds, with the _Executor _concentrating most of its fire on the world Mandalore itself. Thousands of his people died and their blood was on his hands, but all he saw was the glory that awaited him when he became king. He smiled at the chaos, knowing that war and sacrifice had bred his people into a strong society. If they were not strong enough to survive the Sith, they deserved to die.

"Alert he when the battle is over," he said to Vader as he walked turned away.

"As you wish," the Sith Lord replied, his respirator hissing softly as he looked down on the world that burned away into nothing.


	12. Captured

**The Darkest Lord**

**Chapter XII: Captured**

A standard Imperial shuttle craft, equipped with minimal shielding and no weapon systems, and a reconnaissance Star Destroyer were the only active vessels left in the Telos system following the space battle that had occurred just seventeen hours previously. Debris and space junk floated through the abyss, remains from the recent battle between the Sith armada and the Imperial fleet. The shell of what had once been a heavily modified Star Destroyer drifted aimlessly, harmless to the recon team that had been dispatched to clean up after the space conflict. Parts of various starfighters, mostly TIE and Sith scrub ships, could be seen as well, their remains scattered amongst those of the larger ships. What had once been the command ship of the renowned Chiss warlord, Grand Admiral Thrawn, was now a scorched husk of what it had once been. It was most likely beyond salvage. The blast from the Sith Interdictor ship, _Spirit of Revenge, _self-destructing had killed everyone on board. Twenty thousand men and women, all loyal to the Empire, were dead within mere minutes. Those who hadn't died from the explosion itself had been sucked out into the vacuum of space, suffering a far more painful experience than their more fortunate comrades.

The commander in charge of the recon team looked over his intelligence officer's shoulder, analyzing a bioscanner that could detect life signs within the entire system. Aside from those on the planet itself, within the shuttle, and those aboard the Star Destroyer, only a single life form could be found. Everyone else who had participated in the skirmish had perished. According to the device, the survivor was encased in a small metal object, an escape pod most likely, which didn't seem to be operating. Any energy signatures that should have resulted from activity of the pod were missing, indicating that it had either shut down or malfunctioned. It, like all of the other rubble in the system, simply drifted through space with no rhyme or reason, subject to the will of the zero-gravity environment. Several times, it collided with other space junk, causing it to change course and float in the other direction.

Commander Warren Meres could only assume that it had been damaged in the blast and now the occupant waited hopelessly for rescue. He smirked, knowing that whoever was inside of that pod was most definitely not an Imperial. "Rescue huh?" he muttered to himself aloud. The poor bastard would have been better off if he had died like all of the other Sith scum in the sector. Survival meant that he would be subject to torture and interrogation at the hands of the officer in command of this operation. Normally, that would have been the jurisdiction the military officer that had led the battle, but Thrawn was now dead, which meant his superior would have to take his place. Thrawn had been a Grand Admiral. Grand Admirals ranked third in the entire hierarchy of the Empire. The moffs and grand moffs were beneath them. Only Darth Vader and the Emperor held a higher rank. With Thrawn dead, the prisoner's handling fell to Darth Vader. Meres almost pitied the man. If he had been making less money, then he truly would have. Two thousand credits on top of his normal salary to sweep up after the military was just too good of an offer to pass up though.

"Sir?" the intelligence officer asked, turning from his monitor to his superior.

"Mr. Cade," Meres said as he straightened up and turned to another officer sitting at another station. "Send orders to the shuttle. Recover that escape pod and bring it aboard this ship. It is not to be opened until I arrive."

"Yes sir," the communications officer, Cade, replied as he started typing in an encrypted message that included both the order and the pod's exact coordinates, which would be relayed to the shuttle's crew.

Upon receiving the transmission, the pilot of the shuttle changed his course, headed for the battle's lone survivor. Within just a few moments, a large cylindrical can shaped container came into view of the viewport. Judging by the blackened, scorched exterior, the pod had been caught in the blast, though the exterior damage didn't look like it went beyond burns. The copilot threw a lever, activating the shuttle's limited tractor beam. Within mere moments, the metal canister had connected to the bottom of the shuttle with a metallic _clang_ and adhered to the beam emitter, locked solidly in place. Its cargo secured, the shuttle redirected its course back towards the Star Destroyer.

Hoping to interrogate the prisoner himself a little bit before sending the poor schmuck onto Lord Vader, Commander Meres had already made his way down to the hangar, where the shuttle had just docked. Inside, the copilot released the tractor beam, causing the can shaped vessel to fall violently to the ground. It _banged _loudly and hangar crewmen had to run to keep it from rolling away. Not one to take chances, Meres pulled a modified blaster pistol from a thigh holster before moving forward. Two men stepped forward towards the pod. They quickly put pry bars into the door and wrenched it free, causing the inside to depressurize. White steam seeped out slowly, dissipating into the air created by the Star Destroyer's ventilation systems. Seeing nothing from the angle at which he stood, the commander moved forward, pushing one of the men aside carelessly. He took a look inside of the pod and smirked. The red emergency light was still flashing, casting a crimson glow on the figure inside. The man's face wasn't visible beneath a nondescript mask he wore, which matched the rest of his armored robes. Judging by his lack of a response and crumpled state, the man was either unconscious or dead, the former being the more likely of the two.

"Check him," Meres ordered.

With a nod, one of his underlings stepped into the pod, grabbing the man by the shoulders. With a loud heave, the Imperial recon officer was able to pull the heavy armored figure from the pod and drop him on the floor outside, in the hangar. "Heavy bastard," one of them commented.

Without the scarlet glow caused by the escape pod's emergency light, Meres was able to see the figure with much more clarity. The regular florescent lights that hung from the ceiling of the hangar revealed that his armor had stood up to hundreds of attacks, judging by the scratches, burn marks, carbon scoring, and other battle signs. The once jet black cloak attached to the shoulder pads was now a faded gray, as were the overlay robes that covered the thick armor protecting his legs. The armor itself had once been a vibrant blood color, now a dull red with chips of paint missing and no luster whatsoever. All in all, the man looked like hell. He was, however, breathing. His chest rose and fell rhythmically, informing everyone that he had not died in the recovery process or when his pod had been released from the shuttle moments before.

"Take off the mask," the man in charge ordered as he gestured at the limp form with his blaster.

The man who pulled the unconscious Sith from his escape vessel kneeled down beside the prisoner and began looking for the straps that held the mask in place. After a moment, his hand connected with something that didn't feel like sweat drenched hair and he began to work at it. A moment later, the faceless façade had been dropped on the floor and the three men were looking down at their prisoner's face. Warren Meres folded his arms as he analyzed the man, committing his features to memory. His skin of his face was very pale; so pale in fact that Warren wouldn't have been surprised to hear that he had never once set foot in the sunlight. If anyone ever told him that this man had once spent a month in the Dune Sea of Tatooine, he probably would laugh in the informant's face. Contrasting sharply with his skin, the man's hair was a very dark brown, resembling the bitter chocolate once produced on Alderaan. Sweat drenched his entire form, causing the hair the stick to his face and drip on to the hangar floor. On his right temple, a large blue contusion had started to form, probably from impact with the side of his escape pod. After colliding with so many different objects in space, it was a wonder that he didn't have more similar injuries.

"Get a medical team," Warren ordered. "I don't want him to die before we interrogate him." He doubted very much that the welt was of real concern, but he was answering to Darth Vader now and not Grand Admiral Thrawn. He wouldn't risk anything with the man whose reputation for killing his own men was so well known throughout the galaxy.

One of his men quickly got up and left to comply with orders. Musingly, Warren stroked his chin, considering the possibilities of who they had managed to capture. The man wasn't dressed in golden armor, like the Sith soldiers that had been described in an Imperial alert that all ranking officers had received, nor was he wearing gray robes like those of a Dark Jedi. The black and red armor he wore didn't appear to be a typical uniform of any kind so maybe he had managed to capture someone important. A smirk flicked across his features for a fraction of a second. That would mean that the pay would increase substantially if Darth Vader was pleased.

"Hand me that mask," he ordered the second man. Taking it, he turned on his heel to leave. As he walked, he gently traced the shape of the faceless visor with his finger. It was a nice piece. Perhaps he could sell it on the black market and make a few extra credits on top of what he had already earned. The mechanical systems inside might be worth something to someone.

Upon arriving at the bridge, Warren Meres opened up a hailing frequency that would transmit a signal to the newly completed _Executor _in Mandalorian space and contact Darth Vader. Typically, a clean up job such as this would not go to the Supreme Commander of the Imperial Fleet himself, but with the death of Grand Admiral Thrawn, Vader was the next in the chain of command. It wasn't ideal, considering the legendary rumors of Vader's willingness to kill officers for no apparent reason, but protocol was protocol and violating it would probably result in something much worse. Therefore, the recovery agent stood at attention until Vader's blue holo-form appeared before him. A twitch in his hands was the only indication that he was in the least bit nervous, despite the inner terror which threatened to overtake his senses.

"What is it, Commander?" the Sith Lord inquired, his breath respirator hissing eerily. Warren gulped back a lump that formed in his throat and found his voice a moment later.

"We've captured one survivor from the Sith forces that were ambushed over Telos, Sir."

"Is that all?" The question sounded annoyed, as if the black armored Sith didn't particularly think that this information was worth interrupting him over, despite the fact that it was mandated. "We… we think he may be someone important, Sir," Meres fumbled nervously. "He was dressed… strangely."

"Somehow I doubt people dressed the way you do four thousand years ago, Commander," came the sarcastic response. "Perhaps you would be spending your time better if you researched ancient fashion, rather than bother me."

"He wore specialized armor… and a mask."

This caught Vader's attention. Was it possible that the recovery agent had really managed to capture the man that had embarrassed him aboard the Death Star in the Alderaan system? "Is that it in your hand?" Vader asked with a gesture.

Inwardly, Warren swore, knowing that he wouldn't be able to sell the item now. The Dark Lord sensed this stray thought, though he chose to ignore it for the moment. The spoils system was not worth killing the only officer who knew where Darth Revan was currently being held. Despite his reluctance to do so, Commander Meres complied with the silent order and held up the prisoner's mask so that his superior officer could see it. Across the galaxy, aboard the _Executor, _Vader nodded in satisfaction. "Where is the prisoner now?" he demanded.

"Medical bay," the Imperial officer replied. "He was knocked unconscious in the explosion."

"Move him to your highest level security center and keep guards on him at all times," Vader ordered. "He is a dangerous man and will make every attempt possible to escape."

"Yes sir," Warren answered with a salute.

"Commander, I want you to bring him to my castle on Vjun. I will deal with this prisoner myself."

The Dark Lord smirked beneath his helmet at the frown on the recovery agent's face, though he didn't bother to explain his orders in any greater degree of detail. He was in charge and he would make orders, regardless of whether or not his servants understood. The transmission ended and Vader turned to the nearby navigational officer. "Set a course for Vjun," he ordered. "Send word to Grand Admiral Teshik. He is to finish up affairs in this sector."

The conquest of the Mandalorians could wait.

"Revan is dead?" Darth Malak repeated slowly, his eyes widening at the words that Admiral Tenga had just said to him. The Correlian officer nodded.

"Yes Lord Malak. We were ambushed over Telos while en route to Ziost. His ship was captured by the Imperial forces and self-destructed moments later. I watched it myself. No escape pods were jettisoned."

Tenga had indeed seen the battle that had taken place over Telos through the viewport of his own Sith Interdictor ship, though he had paid scant attention to detail. If he had, he may have reconsidered his analysis of the situation before passing it on to the Dark Lord's apprentice. He may have noticed that Revan's ship had started towards the ship of Imperial Grand Admiral Thrawn before a tractor beam had been fired, indicating that he had not been captured, but had willingly fallen into enemy hands. He may have noticed that the order to retreat had been sent from the _Spirit of Revenge _after the self-destruct sequence had been initiated, indicating that there had been a plan at work rather than the works of sheer desperation to kill as many enemies as possible before dieing. Instead, he came to the first possible conclusion and filed it into his official report. Tenga was a stupid man. The only reason he had managed to achieve the rank that he currently held was because of his violent nature and for his deeds in the destruction of Titan III during the "Jedi Civil War." His actions had resulted in the death of more than two hundred Jedi, which had caught the attention of both Dark Lords. Since his promotion, he had been of little use.

Still, the implications of the words spoken outweighed logic and reason, causing the bald Sith Lord to believe them instantly. Revan had to be dead, which meant that he had just become the acting Dark Lord of the Sith. "By the Force," he said with a wistful tone. "Tenga, leave me," he ordered. "I must meditate on the situation."

The Sith commander rolled his eyes at the Jedi technique, which in his opinion, was a waste of time. Their new leader should set to work conquering planets and earning the spoils of war, not sitting in his quarters sleeping. He saluted his new master obediently though and turned away. Malak, who was currently sitting in his private chambers aboard the Star Forge_, _watched him go before turning away from the door. This new information was overwhelming. He, Malak, was the leader of the Sith Empire. The empire that he had helped build from the ground up was now entirely his. If he had still possessed a lower jaw, his mouth would have split into a wide smile. He began to laugh maniacally. It was all his.

"So Revan, you finally met your match on the battle field," he mused. "It was only a matter of time before you became sloppy. I only wish that it had been I who had defeated you."

With this new revelation, all of the dark, treacherous feelings that he had repressed for so many years began to rise up, over flooding at long last. The Dark Lord chuckled mechanically. Arduous years of being subservient to that over-confident bastard were finally over. He was the Lord of the Sith now. The entire empire served him. True, he and Revan had been friends. The two of them had formed a bond that few men formed with one another, but certain things had always been between them since their fall to the dark side of the Force; power being the number one divider. Envy, anger, and a slew of other emotions had formed a gap in their friendship, which is where Malak lived constantly. Revan's death would prove more useful than emotionally harmful. He was free at last. The death of a single man, no matter how important, could not overwhelm the joy that the former Jedi General felt at that prospect. For the first time since his days as a Jedi padawan, Malak was in control of his own destiny.

And he knew exactly how he would celebrate.

Moving through the Star Forge as fast as he could walk, the Dark Lord came to the forth floor medical center; one of the few medical stations aboard the Star Forge that had not been destroyed yet. As he walked, memories of the years gone by flashed through his mind. He saw Revan severing his jaw, the blood indistinguishable from his crimson lightsaber. Then he could see Revan standing over his bed in the hospital, lecturing him on the importance of power and rebuking him for his folly. Even through the haze of medications and tranquilizers, rage had emanated off of the now jawless Sith Lord. A hate for his old friend and master had been born that day, which he had silently repressed and kept under control. A part of him had always remained loyal to Revan but that part had died the moment that his superior had died. The only person he had ever truly cared about was now dead and all human emotion had gone with him. There was just one last thing that needed to die before all ties to the man were truly severed.

He strode into the med room, taking his surroundings in at a glance. Most of the medical personnel were crowded over one bed, where a Sith woman was lying in pain. From what the new Lord of the Sith could tell, she was suffering from some sort of stabbing wound in the stomach. In the bed beside her, his new pupil and soon to be apprentice, Luke Skywalker, sat patiently. He had probably injured himself during training with the other Sith students. The Dark Lord would ask him about it later. He had something more important to deal with for the moment.

The last patient in the room had been unconscious for several weeks now and the physicians predicted that she would never wake up. Her body looked charred and blackened from head to toe as a result of the explosion she had been caught in. Malak had allowed her to live out of loyalty to Revan. Now it was time for her to truly move on. Mina Takhsisi had been a thorn in his side for far too long. He smirked as he looked down on her burned form. There was no longer any hair on her head and most of her face was covered in bandages. A small breathing respirator had been placed over her mouth and nose, a necessity since her lungs had collapsed and had sustained some serious damage. The mask was the only thing keeping her from suffocating to death.

Removing it would be enough to kill her, but that wasn't enough. He wanted to hurt her before she died. Suffocation wasn't enough. She wouldn't feel it. Through her coma, she needed to feel the agony he was about to thrust upon her. By this time, one of the doctors had realized that Malak was in the room and came towards the bald man. The Sith Lord ignored the Iridonian. His yellow eyes didn't move from the dying Jedi Exile. Gathering the Force about him, Malak began to concentrate, redirecting his energy towards himself. He wouldn't just kill her. He would spite Revan in the last way possible. He would make Mina a part of himself. Her incredible Force energy would fuel his conquest of the galaxy and destroy everything she had Revan had cared about.

Extending his hand, he began to draw all of the Force energy in the air about him inward. Across the room, Luke looked upwards as he felt his blood rushing within him, as if it were trying to escape his body and travel towards his master. It was a strange sensation to say the least. It tingled. The woman in the bed beside him was literally lifted into the air. The feeling caused by Malak's manipulation of the midichlorians in the air became more sensational to her than the pain caused by her injury, though a slight whimper could still be heard. Even in her sleep, pain was evident. She grunted uncomfortably and Luke could tell that beneath the quiet event he was watching, unbearable agony went on.

A stream of energy, colored like a sun, stemmed from the Dark Lord's hand and latched onto the comatose woman's breast. In a way similar to within a Force bond, the Force began to flow freely between the two, which could have been very dangerous for both. If the Force flowed between them both to a great extent, it could transfer too much energy to one or the other, draining the other of their very life force. Luckily, Malak knew how to control his powers and knew that it would be Mina who would be drained. The Force suction technique he was using in conjunction with the link pulled all of the energy into his body, which hungrily devoured it. It was a skill he very rarely used, knowing of the addictive effects it could have on a Dark Jedi. This occasion merited it though. He would not become like that power addict, Nihilus, who Revan unleashed over Malachor during the war with the Republic.

As soon as the Iridonian realized what happened, he ran towards the bald man, desperate to stop him from harming a patient. "Lord Malak!" he cried. "You'll kill her!" The alien grabbed the Sith Lord's arm. He was a distraction, nothing more. With his off-hand, Malak snatched his lightsaber and ignited it, impaling the doctor through the heart with it before returning it to its place on his belt. The dead body collapsed, serving as a warning to everyone else in the room not to disturb the murder before them. None of them dared to so much as lift a finger. Curiously, Luke stood up though. He began to approach his master and watched the power transfer, his blue eyes fixated on the bond that had formed between the two. His mind could perceive the incredible speed that the Force traveled through the connection. It reminded him of a hardwire cable, which transferred data between computers.

The body in the bed began to convulse violently in the bed. It was almost over. A nurse could no longer take in the horror, but this time Malak didn't have to deal with another disturbance. His curiosity getting the better of him, Luke Skywalker pounced on the poor Twi'lek woman. Taking her head into his hands, the sandy haired man gave a vicious twist and the sound of her neck snapping filled the air. The Dark Lord's eyes flicked towards his student for a quick moment before returning to his victim. Mina would be dead in another couple of seconds. He wanted to watch the life flitter out of her for good.

This time, she would not come back.

Malak quickly broke the connection and then gave a great shove with his left arm, sending a wave of Force energy at the bed. The metal frame crushed against the wall, being reduced to a small pile of debris. The body was smashed against the wall and the sheer force of impact shattered several of her bones. The machinery that she had been connected to collapsed on top of her, burying her slender body beneath a pile of metal, glass, and rubble. The new Dark Lord of the Sith snickered as he turned away, content with his first course of action as Sith Emperor.

A sudden jolt in the Force managed to break through the foggy haze that blurred Revan's mind. He groaned softly as the blur of unconsciousness lifted, only to be replaced by that of pain. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to open his eyes, pushing the throbbing in the back of his head to the farthest corner of his mind. "Where am I now?" he wondered aloud as he picked himself up off of the cold ground. His gaze flicked about the room as he took in his surroundings. There was no light in the room, save for that which came from a dim, five inch panels that were bolted into each wall. The panels slowly flashed on and off, casting a very dreary illumination into the room. Although he couldn't see much, the Dark Lord still had four other senses of which he could make use, along with those granted to him by the Force. His ears perked up at the sounds of water dripping nearby. It cast a loud echo each time a drop broke against the ground, indicating that he was in a very large, hollow room. The air itself felt very damp against his skin and there was a chill that caused him to shiver slightly. Placing a hand on his own shoulder, he realized that he was half-naked, having been stripped of all garments except for the trousers he wore beneath his armored robes.

"Captured," he muttered to himself as he continued in vain to try to penetrate the darkness with his eyes.

Extending his arms so that he wouldn't slam into anything, Revan began to move forward, searching for some sort of wall or doorway he could use to make his escape. After several moments of stumbling through the blackness, he reached a wall. His hands moved across its surface, informing him that it was made out of some sort of thick metal. It would probably been very difficult to penetrate, even with his vast pool of Force powers. Before he could ponder the situation for much longer, his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a large door sliding open noisily. Illumination flooded into the room from the opposite end. Revan turned around and watched as Darth Vader, accompanied by two Stormtroopers, approached him.

One of the soldiers moved towards a panel that could now be seen, thanks to the light from outside. Opening it, the trooper found a keyboard, which he typed a command into. Several lights throughout the room switched on, almost blinding the imprisoned Sith. A moment later, the door that the trio had entered through slid shut, leaving them alone in the now well lit room. As Revan had predicted, the walls were entirely comprised of metal; Mandalorian steel if he wasn't mistaken. The dripping sound he had been listening to came from a small exposed pipeline, which he guessed would have served as his drinking water if he had been in the room long enough.

The only exit was the door Vader had entered through. That door became his goal. If he had any intention of surviving, he would need to escape and get back to his forces as soon as possible. Getting past the other Sith Lord was the only problem that he could see. His eyes fixed on the black armored warrior and he recalled with disdain how weak the former Jedi Knight had been when they had last met. With a body made with more cybernetics and mechanical parts than organic material, his control of the Force could not have been what it had been while he had been a normal man. The fact that he still sent waves through the Force made him all the more impressive though. Even with his weakened abilities, Vader probably had more power than all of the Dark Acolytes aboard the Star Forge and could probably last awhile against either himself or Malak.

"Are the soldiers really necessary?" Revan asked as he jerked his head towards the white clad troops.

Considering the question for a moment, Vader nodded to them, indicating that they should leave. The two soldiers turned away and left the room through the main door. It slid shut behind them again and this time, the captured Sith Emperor heard the sound of a heavy bolt sliding into place. The two Sith Lords had been locked in a single room together. Were the odds in his favor, as they would be under normal circumstances, Revan wouldn't have minded so much. Instead, he was unarmed and contending with the pain from his head injury. The stakes were set against him.

"Welcome Darth Revan," Vader said cordially. "It is good to see you again."

"Darth Vader," he returned evenly. "The pleasure is all mine."

"You have been the cause of great concern for the Emperor," the taller of the two stated as he reached into his robes, pulling something out from within. Revan recognized his lightsaber in the other Dark Lord's hand and instinctively wanted to grab for it. Seeing this, Vader pulled it back, keeping it close to his chest. Examining it, he turned the shaft over in his hand, admiring the etchings and designs that Revan had emblazoned into the once plain shell of his weapon. Symbols and glyphs that the present day Sith Lord did not recognize covered the weapon from end to end. "What are these?" he asked curiously.

"Symbols," Revan answered. "Symbols of the ancient Sith who once ruled this galaxy."

"My master is the first Sith Lord to control the galaxy," he retorted.

"No," the older Sith replied. "The original Sith weren't men, as you and I are, Lord Vader. They were creatures; creatures with enormous control of the Force. For thousands of years, they controlled the galaxy. Korriban, Ziost, Mandalorian space, and most of the outer rim made up the edge of their empire, while the mid rim and the core world were empty planets, devoid of life and reason."

"That is ridiculous," Vader interrupted.

"Is it?" Revan retorted. "Think about it. Who designed the structures of the two largest Sith strongholds in the galaxy? Do you think the temples and graveyards of Korriban and the sanctuaries of Ziost just appeared? No. They were built by the Rakatan Sith, thousands of years before the advent of the galactic Republic."

"And what happened to these Sith?" his captor asked, humoring him for the moment.

"I don't know," Revan conceded. "By the time I discovered the remnants of their civilization in the outer regions, that information had been lost. All I know is that a sect of their society had betrayed them. Terrorists of a sort. They waged a civil war within their borders and tried to usurp the king. This led to the Great Exodus, the exile of this faction to Korriban. They were stripped of the Force and left to rot. Ironically, they outlived the rest of their society somehow."

Believing that the Emperor may be interested in hearing what the prisoner had to say, the Dark Lord pressed the subject, hoping to hear more. "And what happened to these exiles?"

"They lived on Korriban, unable to escape," Revan answered, realizing that he had a captivated audience. "They were stranded there for hundreds of years, until they met the first Dark Jedi. After the First Great Schism, the first Jedi exiles found them and enslaved them. The Dark Jedi began to breed with these creatures, reintroducing the Force into their bloodlines and creating a new race. Your Sith teachings are an offshoot of these Sith. Mine are from the ones that exiled them to Korriban in the first place. I follow the teachings of the ancient Rakata. You follow a bastard breed that never overcame infighting and civil war. They were power hungry lunatics. That's why there hasn't been a legitimate regime under Sith rule in so many thousands of years. The teachings you follow, Lord Vader, are flawed, like those of the Jedi. Take a look at what you've followed since you became that madman's apprentice. You should be able to see the holes and shortcomings of your beliefs."

Vader chuckled softly, his breathing respirator hissing softly as he returned Revan's lightsaber to his robes. "Your deception will not work on me, heretic," he stated. "I saw through the lies of the Jedi and I can see through yours."

"And what of the lies of your master?" Revan asked. He raised an eyebrow and a crooked smile stretched across his pale features. "Or are there none to speak of?"

The discussion was beginning to get dangerous. Revan was trying to undermine him; goading him to act irrationally so that he would slip up and provide a means of escape. Vader took a deep breath, causing his respirator to make a loud exhaling sound, and calmed himself. What his prisoner was saying was true. His master was a liar. He had been lying to him since the very beginning. He had only chosen to become a follower of the dark side and the Sith teachings because of a lie, a decision which had haunted him for the rest of his days. Still, looking back on the past wouldn't rectify what had happened. His only option was too bide his time and overthrow his master when the opportunity presented itself. He needed to silence Revan before things went too far.

In a fashion typical of the Dark Lord, Vader stepped forward and hurled a ball of transparent Force energy at the other man. Revan's bare feet scraped against the metal floor, stopping only when he slammed into the wall painfully. He grunted loudly and gritted his teeth, but a smile split across his face all the same. "Come now, Vader," he sneered as he looked up, his amber eyes burning into the broken man. "Do you find pleasure in being the kath hound of a man who uses you for his own selfish purposes; who would dispose of you the second a more powerful apprentice came along." Vader's rage began to boil and he reached out with his hand, wrapping an invisible grip around his prisoner's neck. Revan had been prepared for this, however, and shrugged it off. He began to laugh genuinely when Vader's emotions and feelings began to slip between his mind and the white-hot rage that his body was radiating. Small memories and glimpses of people began to fill the air, which Revan picked at effortlessly. "Perhaps he's already tried to replace you, my friend?" he suggested. "Perhaps he's trying to as we speak. Consider the fact that when I came forward in time, I brought almost twelve thousand Force users with me, all of them loyal to the dark side and a Sith code. Surely one of them could break you."

"Enough!" Vader shouted.

"Your master said he wanted to deal with me personally, didn't he, Vader? Why is that? Maybe he sent you here to test me? Are you my trial, Vader? If I defeat you, will I be offered your seat at his side?"

"Enough!" he repeated as he ripped his lightsaber from his belt and activated it. He swept his arm horizontally, causing the Sith weapon to carve a deep burn into Revan's chest. With a pained gasp, the Lord of the Sith collapsed to one knee and clutched at the wound, more shocked than anything else. Perhaps he had taken his game just a tad too far. He sneered viciously as he looked up at the other Sith Lord, the desire to rip his enemy apart clear in his molten yellow eyes. The charred skin from where the saber's tip had struck stung like hell, but he pushed the pain out of his mind. He could deal with pain. His primary concern was that Vader would completely lose control and would try to hack him to bits. Fortunately, that didn't seem to be the case. With his prisoner down, Vader turned away and exited the room, leaving Revan to suffer, though in truth, the injured Sith was more amused by the little game he had played than bothered by the burning sensation that radiated in his torso. As he had learned from the Mandalorians, pain was secondary. Those who could not withstand its wrath were weak. It separated the weak and wretched from the strong and enduring.

As he came out of the prison cell, Darth Vader, to the puzzlement of all of the other guards around, mercilessly cut down the three Stormtroopers nearest to him. "Commander, I want a security guarding him doubled at all times. No one goes in or out without my permission!" he thundered as he stormed off.

Revan had not been slain in his cell for a single reason: he was valuable. The Emperor could make use of the knowledge he had and that was all. That information would allow the Galactic Empire to turn the tides of the war against the Sith armada and then he would be executed. Vader knew that what he had said had been accurate. Darth Sidious was a conniving man who would betray his apprentice for a more powerful one at the first possible chance. Therefore, he could never allow Revan and his master to meet each other in person. If he felt that the lack of cybernetic prosthetics made the other Lord of the Sith a more suitable student, then there wouldn't be a moment's hesitation before Vader was cast out. Hell, if the Dark Lord wasn't certain that his master had no idea that Revan had been captured, he wouldn't be surprised to learn that this was a test for Revan. The final test for a new apprentice would always be to best the old one in battle. Twice, Sidious had attempted to replace him and each time the final test had been a confrontation in a violent duel. Both had been skilled and one had even managed to defeat him. The man had been far too ambitious, however, and refused to swear loyalty to the Empire. Now he was dead and the man formerly known as Palpatine was stuck with a broken shell of a man for a student. Revan on the other hand was young and in excellent condition. He needed to be eliminated before Darth Sidious could attempt to sway him to their side.


	13. Escaped

**The Darkest Lord  
Chapter XIII: Escape**

"Good luck," Admiral Ackbar, a Mon Calamari military leader of the Rebel Alliance stated as Admiral Forn concluded his briefing of the next mission. The lights slowly phased back on and the myriad of pilots and foot soldiers that were gathered around the holo-projector all stood up. Turning on his heel, Carth Onasi turned around and walked out of the room, a flight helmet under his arm. The other pilots began to file out of the room quickly. Princess Leia stayed behind, however, to speak with the newly arrived alien admiral. Two days previously, Admiral Forn had received a transmission from one of the double agents working on Coruscant inside of the Imperial Capital. The Emperor had learned of the hidden base on Dantooine and was sending men to raid the Rebel garrison. Ackbar, who had been in charge of the Dantooine forces, had packed up as fast as possible, sending several hundred Rebels to Yavin in order to avoid capture or execution. The Mon Calamari, along with the rest of the Rebels that had stayed behind with him, had arrived only a few hours ago.

The merging of the two Rebel factions had been fortunate. Bothan spies had slipped Leia information regarding four different Imperial targets. With the extra manpower, the Rebels that were currently stationed on Yavin would be able to attack all of them simultaneously by themselves. The fleet would have to divide if they wanted any chance at saving the bases, which would leave them weaker than average. After several hours of debate, the group had emerged with a plan. With the Death Star destroyed, the Imperial efforts were crippled. They had lost thousands of men and the holonet was flooding with news of the Rebel victory, which, as anticipated, brought more to their ranks by the day. If there was ever a time to strike at the Empire, it was now. The Yavin and the Dantooine Rebel leaders had sent word to other garrisons across the galaxy, relaying orders to prepare for the attack. The Alliance would attack twelve different Imperial targets simultaneously and leave nothing but rubble in their wake. It would be a crushing blow to the Empire. Leia had even confessed her anticipation at the prospect that such vulnerability would leave a clear path towards Coruscant and the Core Worlds. Once those were captured, the war was over.

Carth Onasi did not share her optimism. The idea that twelve different missions could go without error at one time was a bit of a stretch in his mind. Having served with the Republic Navy for most of his life, he knew the odds. On top of that, he felt some nervousness about trusting the recruits. When the new arrivals had first made an appearance, the seasoned war hero had been quick to note that there was no real military strength in the Dantooine sect of the Alliance. Most of the troops that they had brought were young men and women, not even adults by their individual races' standards. It was apparent that they had been farmers that were attracted by delusions of glory, honor, and a less boring existence. The Republic soldier would be very surprised if any of them had any real skill with a blaster. Having pointed all of this out to Leia, she had brought her concerns before the small senate that had started to form on Dantooine. The group, comprised of Admirals Forn and Ackbar, along with Leia herself and Mon Mothma, one of the Alliance's founders.

This "senate" had listened to the pilot's concerns with closed ears, vetoing his proposal to begin training some of the younger soldiers before initiating their next mission. They felt that time was of the essence. Any delay could be detrimental to the cause. Reluctantly, Carth agreed to comply with orders and step aside. Leia had been more assertive. Seeing the logic in Carth's words, the princess forced a compromise. The attacks would initiate according to plan, but Carth would be pulled from Rogue Squadron and placed as commander of the unit attacking Darth Vader's castle on Vjun. Everyone, including Carth himself, had reluctantly agreed. After the attack on the Death Star, Leia had started to feel more confident in her friend's abilities, even going so far as to secretly admit that he was the best pilot in the entire Alliance. Having manipulated all of the pieces of the kaz board in her favor, the Alderaanian princess was feeling very confident.

Onasi still felt that the lack of preparation would be their undoing. Having nothing but children to back him up in a firefight was not a comforting prospect. Over the years, his dexterity had improved to the point where he could place a dozen shots in one target with lightning speed, but he was by no means omnipotent on the battlefield. All soldiers relied on their comrades to provide support and cover fire. Trusting these boys with such an important task made him cringe. He could only hope that having Bastila and her Battle Meditation with him would reduce the odds of his mission being a failure. The young Jedi Knight and Leia would be aiding him in his attack on Bast Castle on Vjun, while Obi-Wan Kenobi would aid the men on Corellia and Master Yoda would fight with the soldiers on Kashyyyk. Each mission had a specific purpose. Destroying Vader's castle would harm Imperial morale even further, which in conjunction with the destruction of the Death Star, would be a harsh blow indeed. According to Han Solo, the Corellians were being extorted under the current Imperial trade laws. If the Alliance could liberate Corellia, they would gain access to all of the galaxy's major trade routes and the goods that went with them. Kashyyyk was a military conquest. The Wookiees had been enslaved shortly after the Clone Wars had ended. Numerous attempts to free them had been made, but there had been no success. Releasing them from bondage would mean that all slaves would owe their life debts to the Rebels. Such debts would prove useful. All of the Wookiee strength and intellect would start working in opposition towards the Empire. The other nine missions all had similar goals in mind. No mission was a small one. Each could provide a necessary victory or a catastrophic defeat.

Knowing that he would find no rest if he went to the mess hall where all of the Dantooine Rebels were now eating, Carth Onasi elected to go outside, where Bastila was training. He found her near the makeshift battle circle that some of the soldiers had made for sparring matches. Both ends of her amber colored saberstaff were active and she was practicing a very flashy combat form. A thick sheet of sweat covered her skin and the light training gear that she was wearing was drenched, causing it to cling to her pale skin. She was alone, which pleased Carth to no end. He wanted to ask her a question and didn't want the others to overhear.

"Bastila, can I interrupt you for a moment?" he asked her as he approached. The Jedi looked up from her training and nodded. Deactivating her lightsaber, she moved to where she had left a canteen of water and took a long drink. Then she turned to her friend and indicated that he should speak. "I wanted to ask you a question."

"What can I do for you, Carth?"

"I wanted to know something about Revan," he answered as he took a seat on the grass.

"I don't honestly know much about the Dark Lord," she answered. "But I'll tell you what I can."

"It's not about him personally," he amended. "I know everything in his files that the Republic had. I know about as much about his personal life as anyone on our side did. I wanted to know why we aren't hunting him."

"Hunting Revan? Bastila repeated with a frown. "We have no way of knowing where he is."

"You're a Jedi," the commander pointed out. "Can't you sense each other?"

"It's not quite that simple," she replied. "We can sense the Force in others, but Revan isn't even on this planet. Any hint of his power that I could sense from here would be so faint that I wouldn't even begin to know how to trace it. Besides, it could just as easily be Darth Vader or the Emperor that I sense. I couldn't distinguish between the three from this distance."

"I see," he said thoughtfully as he stroked his stubbly chin. "I just feel that fighting Vader and the Emperor isn't what we should be focused on. We have that Dark Jedi. We should worry about interrogating him, rather than fighting someone else's war."

"The Rebels have him locked up, I'm afraid. He hasn't told them anything since we captured him."

"Don't you think it's strange that they don't even seem in the least bit concerned with Revan and Malak?"

"I thought the same thing earlier," she replied. "But then I considered the matter. Vader and his master are real to these people. They don't know the horrors that Revan, Malak, and Exar Kun put our world through."

"And that's the other thing!" he jumped. "What about Kun? Why aren't they looking for Luke?"

"Same reason I suppose," she answered. "Although, I don't believe Kun is a threat anymore."

"What?"

"I'm not sure. A few days ago I felt a disturbance in the Force. I think Exar Kun is dead. I'm not sure about Luke though."

Carth's frown deepened. "What could have killed Exar Kun?" he asked. The exasperated Republic soldier began to pace back and forth, his mind racing. He hadn't personally fought in the Great Sith War against Exar Kun and Ulic Qel-Droma, but both his father and grandmother had. Some said that the tensions remaining after that war had sparked the Mandalorians hatred towards the Republic, leading to the outbreak of the subsequent two wars. How could anyone have actually killed the man responsible for so much anxiety and tragedy without a full fleet and an army of Jedi backing them up?

Bastila didn't answer the question. She honestly didn't know. It was possible that Revan had been responsible for the demise of the Sith Lord. Even that conclusion was making rash assumptions. She didn't even know if Kun was really dead. The rift in the Force that she had felt could have been any number of things. The young Jedi Knight shook her head. "I don't know what to think, Carth. Everything that has happened has been so… strange."

This caused the soldier to give a small laugh. "You could say that again," he agreed. "First we jumped through time. I'm still not sure how I'm handling that. Everything we knew is gone. It's like the galaxy fell apart while we were missing."

Bastila nodded silently. "Everything the Jedi Order stood for is gone. The Republic. Justice. This Emperor, this Sith Lord, has somehow managed to wipe it all away. That's why I'm fighting with the Rebel Alliance, Carth. That's why I'm doing all of this. The world I knew is gone, but the principles I followed still apply. I have to try to bring the light back into the galaxy."

"You know I don't understand that light side versus dark side stuff, Bastila," the pilot responded as he sat down in the grass.

"There are times I question whether or not I understand it myself," she said with a grim smile. "Especially since I lost Luke."

"Luke will be fine," he assured her. "He was a strong kid. Reminded me of my son even."

"You had a son?" the Jedi asked with mild interest. This was the first time that she had heard her companion speak of his personal life. She hid her surprise well though.

"His name was Dustil," he told her with a proud smile. "He was good kid. Smart. Strong. More energy than a rampant krayt dragon." His expression suddenly became very sorrowful and the Jedi could feel the empty coldness inside of him. "He… he died. It happened when Darth Malak ordered the attack on Telos."

"I'm very sorry to hear that," she said sincerely. "And Malak will pay for what he has done to the galaxy. They both will."

"I know. I'll see to it."

Bastila was about to answer when she heard the soft sound of footsteps coming from the temple door. She looked towards it and saw that Leia was coming towards them, a look of weary satisfaction decorating her features. "We've received word from all four Rebel outposts. Mission is ready to begin in 0800 hours."

"Best get some rest before then," Carth said as he stood up. "I'll see you both later."

The two women nodded at him and watched as he walk away. It wasn't difficult for the princess to pick up the saddened air that her friend was radiating. A frown removed the satisfaction she had felt and she turned to her master for answers. "What's wrong?" she asked.

Pain was nothing new to Darth Revan. He had faced it bravely and with honor for most of his life. Still that didn't mean that it was something that he enjoyed being subjected to at some other Sith Lord's whim. The burn marks across his chest, along with the various welts, contusions, and other visible injuries that he had sustained in the last few days all drove his anger towards Darth Vader and the Galactic Empire, giving him focus. All of the brutality and animosity that Revan had faced were driving him to hate the Empire more and more with each passing minute; a feeling that he would use to repay the pain they inflicted upon him a hundred times. The Dark Lord of the Sith swore that he would make each Stormtrooper pay dearly for the acts of cruelty that they had taken against him.

The torture squad that operated within Bast Castle was comprised of a group of cocky cloned Stormtroopers that greatly underestimated the power of a Dark Jedi such as Revan. Once he had regained consciousness, the squad simply began poking and prodding him with various electrical and stun devices. They hadn't even bothered to restrain him or fix him with a Force inhibitor. It was obvious that these men were used to cracking the spirits of Force-blinds and had no training in how to handle a Jedi. While most would break under the agony and excruciating pain that their methods induced, Revan used it to give him clarity.

He hollered loudly as a stun baton was pressed into his rib cage, sending an electrical current through his already fatigued and sweat covered body. Forcing himself to regain control, he recovered power over his voice and simply gritted his teeth, rather than letting them see him howl like some sort of caged animal. A simple glance at the injury told him that the skin was charred and that he would require some sort of medical attention soon, not that he was likely to get it while he was under Imperial hold. He needed to escape soon. Each time a stun baton struck his skin, he felt a surging pain that quickly sapped him of his remaining energy.

His wrath was near its boiling point. The Dark Lord of the Sith could not take anymore of this humiliation. He glanced up at the eight men that were "interrogating" him. Though their faces were obscured by their white armored helmets, he could sense the mirth that the derived from their work. These men had been given this job because of the pleasure that they took from causing others' pain. Revan smirked at this. He too, as a leader, had appointed men that enjoyed torturing their victims to such positions of power. Colonel Atton Rand had been one of the best. The demonstration of cruelty that he had displayed when he had broken the former Jedi, Kayna Sentai had caused Revan to appoint him head of a special operations unit that specialized in hunting Jedi. The boy would have made an excellent Dark Jedi too, if he hadn't vanished shortly after Sentai's death.

One of the Stormtroopers stabbed at Revan with an electro-staff, which would have sent buzzing bursts of electricity through the Dark Lord's figure if it had connected. Instead, Revan rolled out of the way quickly, tripping another torturer as he went. With a vicious snarl, he called the Force that swirled around him into his fists and then relinquished it. Bursts of white hot lightning ripped from his palms and into the air, arcing at their peak and coming back down on the torture squad. Too stunned by the prisoner's sudden outburst, the Imperial soldiers did not even try to evade the attack.

The sound of all six men's shrill screams pierced the air as the water within the bodies conducted the electric current he was sending through them, cooking them alive like fried dewback. It was something that he had seen done to his own golden armored Sith troopers before and the Mandalorian Neo-Crusaders before that. The skin generally melted after approximately eight seconds, at least when he administered the lightning himself, causing the armor and the creature within to fuse together. Even if he didn't execute the person being tortured, they would forever be trapped within their heavy, cumbersome protective gear, disfigured horribly beneath. It was not a pretty sight to behold.

The odor was also foul. The Dark Lord wrinkled his nose as the scent of seared flesh met his nostrils. He quickly shrugged it off. He was unguarded and had a chance to escape. What more opportunity could he ask for? Grabbing a blaster rifle from one of the fallen Stormtroopers, he ran towards the door and, using the Force, blew it off its track. The heavy metallic slab smashed into the wall outside, denting the thick durasteel and landing with a loud cladder.

_"Very subtle, Revan," _The Dark Lord chided himself inwardly as he stepped out of the dark torture chamber and into the well lit hallway of Bast Castle. There didn't appear to be anyone in either direction and he was not in the least bit familiar with his surroundings, presenting him with a bit of a predicament. Chewing on his lip, he contemplated the situation. Then he shrugged. It really didn't make a difference. If he chose the wrong direction, he'd simply kill his way back to his starting point and go the other way.

Hoisting the blaster rifle into a ready position, he started down the left side of the corridor, keenly conscious of the security cameras that followed his every move. Imperial soldiers would be on him within minutes if he didn't act quickly and get out of Darth Vader's stronghold.

In the upper levels of the castle, the men in the security center were completely oblivious to Darth Revan's escape. Their monitors had picked up with brutal murder of the "interrogation" unit and subsequent break out but their attention was focused elsewhere, as was that of Darth Vader. Before their prisoner had made his timely getaway, an alarm had sounded. This blaring siren had been an alert that there was unauthorized space activity in the Vjun system. Nearly fifty Rebel ships, accompanied by squadrons of X-Wing fighters, jumped into the system unexpectedly, all bound towards the barren planet.

"They would strike at me here?" Vader mused to himself as he watched the ships begin to enter the atmosphere. "I want the entire castle put on alert and all troops to their battle stations. Fighters are to be up in the air, repelling Rebel forces," he ordered quickly.

And so it was done. Another alarm sounded, this one encompassing the entire castle. The regular florescent lights that hung overhead went dark, replaced by small red warning signals that had been mounted onto the walls. These crimson signals blinked on and off in rhythm with the siren that ordered soldiers to report to battle stations. Assuming the worst, Revan guessed that the alarm had been sounded because of him. Swearing, he ducked into an empty room as he saw three soldiers dressed in combat gear, though they were not Stormtroopers, running towards him. Unfortunately, one of them, a rust haired soldier with a blaster pistol in his hand, spotted him and saw that he had moved to hide.

"Look there," he told his comrades as he pointed at the room Revan had entered.

The three moved and stood in front of the door of the room, spotting Revan immediately. He lifted his blaster rifle, preparing to fire, before one of the men decided to chide him. "What? You're not scared of the Rebels, are you soldier?" he asked in a tone that could only be described as whole-heartedly narcissistic.

"Must be one of the rookies," a dark skinned man to the left of him added. "They don't got no spine."

"Look kid," the leader of the trio said with a smirk. "Vader's actually in the castle. If he catches you pissing yourself in an empty room when the fighting starts-," the man finished his thought by drawing a line across his own neck with his index finger.

Revan frowned. It was clear that they didn't recognize him and he found it odd that they didn't question the fact that he was running around shirtless, clearly injured, with nothing but a blaster rifle. Still, he wasn't about to pass up an opportunity when it appeared to him. "I'm really nervous," he told the group's leader, adding a trembling effect to his voice. "I don't know if I can handle them."

The three soldiers laughed at this. "Our armor may not be as good as the Stormtroopers, but it can stand up to a blaster just fine. Don't get shot in the head and you'll be good."

"Do you think you could lend me your armor, since I can't find mine?" Revan asked, using the Force to strengthen the suggestion.

"What?" the dark skinned man scoffed, clearly baffled by the question. Both of the rusty haired man's companions laughed violently at the thought.

"It's a good idea," Revan assured them, again implanting ideas that were not their own into their minds. The laughter died instantly.

"He's right," the leader replied with a nod.

In front of the three other men, the rust haired man stripped off all of his combat gear until he was down to just his undergarment. "The blaster too," the escaped prisoner said as he nodded towards the weapon.

"Absolutely, kid," he responded with a wide grin. "Let's go guys. Kid, take care of yourself."

With that, the three Imperials took off down the hallway, towards their battle stations. Pleased with his handiwork, Revan could only imagine what would happen when the soldier reported for duty, dressed in naught but his underwear as he quickly changed into the black gear. He was pleased to see that there were two plasma grenades attached to the utility belt, along with a breath mask. Once he was dressed in the black uniform, he harnessed the blaster rifle on his back, favoring the lighter blaster pistol instead. Once he was ready, he set out again, certain that no one would recognize him.

On the edge of his senses, Revan could feel a disturbance within the Force. He studied it as he ran through the corridors, passing several similarly clad commandos as he went. The source of this disturbance was not a Dark Jedi, as he had anticipated on a world conquered by Darth Vader. Instead, he found an aura typical of a Jedi Knight, which swirled with a vibrant blue color, though it lacked the blinding white quality that only the most pure Jedi Masters, such as Nomi Sunrider and Vandar Tokare could have reached in his time. The Dark Lord frowned. Why was there a Jedi on Vjun? Vader had claimed to have eliminated all Jedi in this time period. Of course that other Sith Lord had been proven wrong mere hours later, when two Jedi dispatched his Stormtroopers and aided the Republic pilot and Jedi Knight from the past to escape the Death Star.

He pushed the thought aside. He needed to focus on escaping before he worried about the Jedi. He pushed forward, hopefully towards an exit of some sort that he could use.

Meanwhile, Leia Organa, Carth Onasi, and Bastila Shan, accompanied by an entire company of Rebel fighters, dropped from the skies, each one using a parachute like device to break their fall. The entire group landed in a small courtyard on the east side of the castle, not far from the hangar. If they could capture the hangar, then the Imperials couldn't send anymore fighters into battle and they'd have to rely on their stationary batteries to protect themselves.

"Come on, come on!" Carth ordered as he disconnected the pack on his back, leaving the device on the ground. "Weapons at the ready. Let's move!"

With an unprofessional cheer, the men followed the hardened soldier. He grimaced at the overwhelming amount of noise that they made. Checking over his shoulder, he realized that the group had dropped into an area that would be perfect for an ambush. He groaned inwardly as he pulled his blaster pistol from its holster on his thigh and held it at the ready.

"Quietly! he shouted at them as he moved forward.

They complied to a certain extent, though they were still much louder than a trained battalion of men would have been. Accepting it as what he had to work with, the soldier led them to an entrance from the side of the courtyard, which led into the main building. Pressing his hand on the pad that would open the door, a red light flashed back in response.

"Slicer," he ordered.

A Verpine Rebel quickly slipped to the front of the group, a strange cylindrical shaped device in his hand. He placed it on the outline of a hand that was on the console, It flashed red for a moment before changing back to neutral blue. After that it began to shine with a vibrant green color, indicating that access had been granted. The insectoid alien recovered its mechanical lock pick and the black door slid open silently.

"Carth," Bastila said, an obvious note of worry in her cultured voice. "Look at the sky." The Republic pilot did so. It was filled with blaster fire, torpedoes, and star ships, but that was about it. He couldn't tell what the Jedi was worried about. Bastila sighed quickly and pointed to a dark black cloud that was slowly drifting towards the surface.

"Vjun's rain is acidic. It'll hurt like hell when we're trying to escape if we're not quick" one of the Rebels explained.

"Then let's be quick," their commander suggested dryly.

Inside, Revan could sense both the growing presence of Darth Vader and Bastila Shan. Though he couldn't actually identify the source of the Jedi aura he could feel, he knew it was a potent one. The Jedi had potential and such potential made him curious. What also intrigued him was the fact that it was getting stronger and stronger, which meant that whoever was the source of that power was getting closer. In fact, the two polarized auras he sensed seemed to be headed towards one another. His mind raced with questions. He wanted to know who was behind the mysterious light sided aura and what would happen when that person met with Darth Vader. Was this Jedi planning on challenging the Dark Lord?

Revan stopped his flight. Biting on his lip in hesitation, he internally debated converging on the position where the two Force users would meet. He wanted to watch the conflict and see how it would turn out. On the other hand, he was still in the heart of Imperial territory and needed to find away out before this convenient distraction became less helpful to his cause.

"Damn it," he muttered as he made up his mind to ignore the tempting show that would no doubt send waves through the Force.

As the Force would have it, there wasn't actually a choice in the matter. Darth Vader, having seen the entrance of the Rebel forces, had gathered a squadron of Stormtroopers, and moved to repel them. Following the chaos left in the Rebels' wake, the Dark Lord found them in his hangar, sabotaging the machinery within. The hangar door was still closed, preventing any of them from escaping. The Dark Lord smiled beneath his helmet at this. They would not get away this time. As he entered, the hissing sound of his crimson lightsaber igniting resonated throughout the room. Everyone looked to see the black armored figure approaching. Flanked by nearly a dozen white soldiers, the Sith Lord was an imposing sight. Many of the younger Rebels backed away nervously.

Bastila Shan stood her ground. "Carth, get the door open. I'll stall the Dark Lord!" she cried out as she twirled her active lightsaber over her head and brought it around behind her back in an acrobatic Ataru stance. Both ends burned brightly in the dimly lit room and the young Jedi Knight stood confidently, certain of her abilities.

Leia Organa was not so sure of the situation. The young woman ducked to avoid the electro-staff of a Stormtrooper that attacked her. She quickly took the butt of her blaster rifle and used it to bash in his skull. A loud _crack _could be head as he crumpled to the ground, clearly dead. The princess looked back at her master and the Sith Apprentice, a knot turning in her stomach. Through their Force bond, Leia could sense that Bastila felt self-assured but this didn't alleviate the Alderaanian's fears. Darth Vader had a reputation as a vicious killer, especially when he used his lightsaber, and the princess had no doubt that the stories that flooded the holonet were in no way exaggerated. In spite of his mechanical appendages and disabilities, the former Jedi General would not be an easy opponent. With this in mind, she decided that her talents would be more useful elsewhere. Instead of fighting the wave of white armored enemies that surrounded her, she decided to hop into the cockpit of a disabled TIE fighter, where she would be able to help Bastila through the Force and through their bond.

"You!" Vader hissed as he strode towards Bastila, attempting to intimidate her with long, powerful steps. It had no effect on the young Jedi. She simply held her ground with a smirk on her lips. He recognized her though. He knew that she could feel fear. He had seen it when she had entered his mind through her Mind Meld. She was just a scared little Jedi. Harmless. He stopped with approximately five meters between them. Taking a somewhat personalized Djem So stance, he waited. She would become overzealous and strike, making a grave mistake early.

Nomi Sunrider had played the same game with her when she had been a Padawan. The fiery haired Jedi Master could stand for what seemed like forever, her emerald blade simply waiting. Bastila had learned the folly over letting a foe's patience eat away at her own. Therefore, she employed a trick to lure Vader into attacking. She lunged forward, lightly trying to strike him. It was no stronger than a child's attack and all the Sith Lord had to do to deflect the attack was twist his wrists so that the blade would catch on his own. This also left his upper portion vulnerable. Bastila turned around so that her lightsaber was touching her back and kicked upwards, planting her boot directing on his chest piece.

Vader grunted as he stumbled backwards, though he was able to recover quickly. He moved forward, swinging his saber, while Bastila caught each attack on either of her blades. She did have an advantage over her opponent. The double bladed lightsaber, which was so popular with both Jedi and Dark Jedi during her time, had fallen out of use over the centuries. Vader had only ever confronted a single opponent who had used the weapon and Darth Maul had not been nearly as skilled as Bastila. Therefore, he found competing with her to be awkward and somewhat tricky.

"You've finally met your match, Dark Lord," she jeered at him with a grin.

"Your confidence will be your undoing," he warned her.

"And your faith in the dark side will be yours," she returned. "There is no need for this. Turn away from the dark side and you can be redeemed."

"There is no redemption for me," he sneered as he swung his weapon again.

As their duel continued, Revan found that his search for some sort of an exit led him to the hangar, where the Rebel and Imperial forces fought. He walked in, taking the raging battle in with a glance from his elevated position at the top of a flight of metal stairs. Despite his decision to avoid Vader and the Jedi, he found himself in the same room as them, watching with interest as they fought. He too had instantly recognized Bastila from when she had tried to use her Battle Meditation against him aboard the _Spirit of Revenge _during the Battle Over Coruscant, four thousand years previously. He couldn't recall her name though. Glancing down, he saw a Rebel soldier pointing at him, warning the other troops of his presence. Dressed in an Imperial combat uniform, it was no surprise that they mistook him for a common soldier.

Lifting his blaster, he picked the soldier off with a single shot, attracting the attention of the fallen man's friends in the process. "Typical," he muttered as he pulled one of the plasma grenades he'd taken from the previous owner of his outfit from his belt. His gloved finger thumbed the activation button and he tossed the explosive into a small cluster of Rebels.

In less than a second, a mess of profanity and warnings went into the air, which was abruptly cut off by the sound of a powerful explosion. Boiling globs of cerulean colored plasma went flying through the air, burning more than eight men and women from both sides. Revan hopped off the banister, dropping down into the lower level of the hangar, where most of the action was taking place. He pointed his blaster at a nearby Stormtrooper and shot him square in the forehead.

The skirmish was wearing down. Most of the Imperials were dead, leaving only a few stragglers and the Sith Apprentice to hold the hangar. Vader and Bastila continued to trade blows with their lightsabers; Bastila's youth and agility giving her the advantage over Darth Vader's years of experience. The black clad warrior swung horizontally, leaving himself wide open. Gracefully twirling her lightsaber with one hand, she struck him on the shoulder, causing sparks to go flying from his breathing respirator. He grunted very loudly as the device started to hiss as oxygen escaped his mask and began to seep out of the machine.

Vader howled loudly. He dropped his lightsaber and ran, knowing that he'd stop breathing soon if he couldn't repair himself. "Come back!" Bastila cried as she started after him.

"He's beaten!" Revan declared as he moved to intercept. "You should worry about escaping this place before more Imperials come!"

The sight of Revan amidst the chaos caused Bastila to do a double take. Her eyes bulged out of their sockets slightly and her feet stumbled backwards by themselves. "By the Force," she gasped. "Everyone, surround him!"

At once, the remaining twenty or so Rebels that were still alive moved to circle the Sith Lord, none of them certain of what was going on. Behind her, Bastila heard a cockpit depress, allowing a pilot to hop out and she sensed Leia's approach. Revan was keenly aware of the twenty-some odd blasters trained on him and he quickly used the Force to call Darth Vader's fallen lightsaber to his hand. Igniting it, he brought it up. No one fired.

"Drop it, Revan," Bastila ordered. "In the name of the Galactic Republic and the Supreme Chancellor, you are under arrest!"

"There is no Republic," he reminded her as a charming smile graced his pale features. "So what are you going to do? Kill me?"

"You're worse than Darth Vader," Carth Onasi, who had come to stand beside Leia and Bastila, sneered. "You deserve nothing less. You're a monster."

"You're standing beside the follower of a true monster, soldier," Revan retorted, indicating Bastila. "She and her masters and their vaunted code are responsible for the deaths of billions."

"So are you," Carth shot back.

The conversation ended abruptly after this. Amidst all of noise of the blaring warning siren, the sound of the ships outside bombing the castle, and the frantic cries within the castle, the sound of a small blaster pistol firing was almost unheard. Its effects were devastating. As the blaster singed a hole through his back, Revan's eyes widened. He was confused at first, unsure of what had happened. He turned around and caught the sight of a nervous young soldier, who had lost his nerve and fired his weapon.

"Son of a…" Revan began to say. He looked back at Bastila before passing out. His body crumpled to the floor and he landed at the young Jedi Knight's feet, completely at her mercy. The Dark Lord of the Sith that had gone through so much effort to escape Imperial capture, was now in the hands of the Rebel Alliance and, after many years of careful avoidance, the Jedi Knights.


	14. Complications

**The Darkest Lord**

**Chapter XIV: Complications**

"Going to kill you," Darth Revan mumbled unconsciously as he was brought aboard a YHP-40000 Rebel transport vehicle on a hover gurney, a medic following behind closely. The floating bed was directed towards the back of the shuttle by a young Tarisian soldier, who ungracefully shoved it into the wall. This caused a loud metallic banging sound, which caused the medic to wince nervously. The impact caused the unconscious man to inhale sharply, presumably from the pain. Without so much as a glance towards Revan, the soldier who had been controlling the gurney also threw a small pack, containing the Dark Lord's gear, onto the ground beside his bed. The young Tarisian turned away and stalked towards the door without a word to the medical officer.

"The man's about to die and you just slam him around like a bumper bike?" the medic called after him.

The soldier didn't respond with anything more than an agitated grunt. He simply slung his blaster rifle over his shoulder, back into his hands and walked out, passing Bastila as she exited the transport. She was followed by her apprentice, Princess Leia, who had set her features in a neutral stage and kept her arms folded over her chest. The young Talravin Jedi Knight approached the bed that Revan had been strapped into and studied her enemy's features for a moment. Frowning, she felt a tad underwhelmed. He was different from the man she had seen before. The pictures and holos of the man that had lead the rogue Jedi, Revanchists as they had called themselves, into battle against the Mandalorian Neo-Crusaders were very different. He had been a good looking, healthy man who had been physically fit and had warm, kind features. The man she saw before her was sickly. His complexion had gone from a ripe pink color to a ghostly white one. His once chocolate colored brown hair was now a sick muddy color, one that was much darker. Even in his unconscious state, she knew that the cold, callous expression she saw was the real deal. A very thick sheet of sweat had broken out over his skin, drenching the Sith Lord. The black combat armor that he had stolen was now adhering to his pasty skin, which would make healing him difficult.

Unfortunately, there was no proper medical equipment aboard the small transport to treat the sort of injury that he had sustained. An untrained rookie soldier that had been well armed had lost his nerve and shot the Dark Lord in the back, burning a hole through his armor, his skin, and one of his kidneys. If he didn't have emergency surgery soon, he would surely perish. Unfortunately, the Rebels didn't have anyone with the kind of medical skills to perform such an operation on the planet's surface. A highly trained surgeon was waiting for their arrival aboard one of the Rebel capital ships, though it was possible that Revan wouldn't make it that long. As the situation stood, all they could do was attempt to keep him relaxed and as comfortable as possible. As far as Bastila could tell, he didn't look very comfortable at all. The thick coat of sweat glistened over his pale features, rolling down his skin and dripping onto the sheets. His breathing came in harsh, labored gasps, which got caught in his throat several times.

In order to alleviate the pain somewhat, the field medic had injected a high dosage of bacta into the man's bloodstream, which should have spread through his circulatory system within mere moments. The hope was that alleviating the pain that the Sith Lord felt would help him rest easier and, more importantly, keep him unconscious. Bacta was a potent drug. If administered in large quantities, it had the power to kill a man. Due to his Force sensitivity, Bastila had allowed them to inject a much higher volume than would normally be safe to administer. It wouldn't kill him. The depressant was supposed to keep him under as long as possible. It didn't seem to be working. The healing agent couldn't even begin to repair the damage done to his kidney, nor stem the flow of pain and toxins that the damaged organ was secreting. His incoherent ramblings and noises were becoming more frequent and more aggressive. He was close to reawakening. When he did, it would not be pleasant. With so much pain surging through his body and no way of defending himself, Revan would most likely revert to a feral stage. Bastila had seen it before. Men became like cornered animals when they were injured. They would lash out and destroy anything that they perceived to be a threat. Revan's raw talent for destruction would be more than enough to destroy the entire transport, which was now beginning to lift off so that they could return to the capital ships that were holding positions in orbit.

Leia saw the amount of pain that the Sith Lord was in and she agreed that they should end it. The difference was that she felt killing him would be a better solution. In her world, there were very few shades of gray. Things were black and white. Revan was on the darker side of that spectrum. From what she had heard, he had the blood of countless innocents on his hands. Saving his life didn't seem right. She felt the need to voice her opinion.

"Why are we protecting him?" Leia asked as she uncrossed her arms and moved to stand beside her master. "I can sense how conflicted you are."

"The Jedi do not kill the helpless," Bastila responded curtly as she set her bare hands on the dieing man's bed frame, glancing at the medic for only a moment before knowing everything he could possibly tell her. Revan would die. What else could a non-Jedi healer tell her? He didn't have the knowledge of what the Force could do to preserve the spark of life within an individual and nurse it back to a roaring flame.

"Are you going to spare Darth Vader or the Emperor if they can't protect themselves too?" the princess asked, uncertain of whether or not she could handle the wrong answer.

"I will not kill a helpless opponent," the Talravin Jedi stated, using the only apathetic answer that she could consider. "Even someone such as your Emperor."

"But he's responsible for the deaths of billions!"

"So is Revan," was the response. "That doesn't justify execution. How are we any better than he is if we become killers too?"

"We're not killing him for power's sake," the padawan answered. "He's a threat to everyone around him as long as he is alive. I can sense the darkness inside of him. It's like nothing I've felt before."

"Your senses are not as well attuned as my own, Leia. It's obscure. Shadows and darkness shroud Revan's mind, making it difficult him difficult to read but there is still good inside of him. I believe that he can be saved."

The Alderaan princess frowned and crossed her arms again, unsure of anything else to say. She forced herself to bite her lip to abstain from making a bitter remark. Ever since she had reached an age where her father felt that she would be useful to the resistance movement, she had dreamed of the day that someone would tell her Darth Vader had been killed. In the two years since the founding of the Rebel Alliance, she had spent a great deal of time helping to plan strategies and politically ruin the Empire. Her mission aboard the _Tantive IV_ had been to find Obi-Wan Kenobi so that he could assist with an assassination mission against Darth Vader. According to her father, Bail Organa, Obi-Wan had been Vader's master before the crippled Sith Lord had fallen to the dark side and been imprisoned in the black suit that he wore.

Bastila didn't like that Leia was vocally questioning the Jedi Code. It wasn't because the princess was showing disrespect for the order. Well, she was, but that wasn't what bothered her. What was upsetting was the fact that she too was thinking the same thing that her padawan was saying out loud. Why was she saving Revan's life? Did he even deserve to live? She had killed in battle before. She was fairly certain that some of the men that she had killed in battle hadn't actually been dead when she left. She had abandoned them with mortal injuries and they had to wait in agony for death to make its claim. What was the difference here? A soldier had shot Revan and done the same. Was there really a difference in the two? Biting her lip, she honestly didn't have an answer. All she could do was what her moral compass guided her to do. That was to save Revan's life if at all possible. She'd live with the consequences of her decision later.

Bastila turned to the medic who was trying to stabilize Revan. "What's his status?" the young Jedi asked him. "How are his vitals?"

"Critical, ma'am. At this rate, he won't live another three hours. They're dropping slower than I expect but they won't stay up for long."

Bastila looked at the Sith Lord. She had never seen his true face before. Holos and videos weren't the same as a face to face encounter. Their encounter on the _Spirit of Revenge _had ended quickly and his mask had been in place the entire time. Now as she studied him, the underwhelming feeling returned to her. His skin was ghostly pale, as if it hadn't seen sunlight in years. The thick brown hair on his head contrasted with his skin tone so sharply that it almost appeared to be black. The majority of his bulk had come from his armor. The actual man had a much thinner build than she had anticipated. In her mind, Revan had been roughly the same size as Malak, except a few inches shorter. Physically, this man was almost the complete opposite of his apprentice.

His face was pained though. She could tell that he would not last long, even without the medic's analysis of the situation. Balancing on her delicate resolve, she decided then and there that letting Revan die was not an option. Her Jedi duties aside, Bastila knew that the Dark Lord of Revenge held a wealth of information in his mind that could be used to stop Darth Malak and the remaining Sith forces. If they could somehow interrogate him and gain access to that information, he would be invaluable to them. The Sith that they had captured on Yavin had been of little use. Before he had committed suicide by throwing himself through his Force cage, the Dark Jedi had told them only that the Sith were using something called the Star Forge as their headquarters. What was the Star Forge? Why were the Sith using it and how could they possibly have known about it if they had come from the past, just as she had?

"Mina," Revan mumbled as his eyes slipped open.

Both Bastila and Leia took an involuntary step back. Revan's head lulled over so that he could face them. A grim chuckle escaped him, which wracked him body with pain, causing him to cough softly. Once the spasms stopped however, a faint smile broke over his lips.

"Mina," he repeated with a little more strength. "So beautiful…" His amber colored eyes locked with Bastila's pale gray ones for a moment, causing her to feel very uncomfortable. She shifted nervously under his gaze, which could only be described as soft and, hard as it was to conceive, caring, and turned away. Another weak chuckle rumbled in his chest and his eyes rolled back in their sockets. He quietly fell back out of consciousness. "You are so beautiful," he whispered again.

"He's delusional!" Leia gasped.

The comment made Bastila gulp loudly. Of all the things she had expected Darth Revan to say to her when they finally met face to face, a compliment on her appearance was not one of them. It had unnerved her tremendously. Beautiful? She had never been called beautiful before. The Jedi had always discouraged such talk while she had been a student at the temple. Such conversations always lead to vanity. She had convinced herself years ago that she was not a beautiful woman. She was a plain one. She had always told herself this and never though anything of it. Now Revan had to go and make an inappropriate comment like that. Of course, Leia was right. He was delusional. How could he be anything other than delusional when he had suffered major blood loss, had a gaping hole in his back, and was hyped up on painkillers?

"Ugh! Bloody Sith Lord," Bastila muttered as she recomposed herself. "Sergeant," she said to the medical officer. "You are dismissed. I will assume responsibility for Darth Revan."

The young man eyed her for a moment. The Jedi had demonstrated no knowledge of medicine. He didn't think that she had any ill intentions though. She had been the one to demand that the Sith Lord be spared. It was doubtful that she would turn around and kill him now. Still, it made no sense that she would take away the closest thing that they had to a doctor at such a critical time if she wanted him to live. The Jedi saw his hesitation and sighed.

"I assure you that Revan is in good hands," she said softly. "We'll take good care of him."

"I swore an oath, Ma'am," the Rebel replied uncertainly as he ran a hand through his sandy blond hair. His mouth opened, as if to say something else, but then shut again. He tried again, only to find similar results. Bastila sighed. As a medical officer, he had sworn an oath. So had she. Arguing about whose oath held greater significance would be foolish and very un-Jedi of her indeed. Gently, she turned and looked down at Revan, whose jaw was clenched tightly as the pain wracked his unconscious form. He was overcome by a painful spasm every so often. It was a pitiful sight, especially for a man who was so powerful. It was also, the Jedi thought, somewhat poetic. He would had been idolized and feared as a dark god was now proven to be nothing more than a man. He felt pain. He was weak. He would die. The ultimate end which was guaranteed for all sentients was waiting for him as well. She wouldn't let death take him just yet though.

"What is your name, Sergeant?" she asked him.

"Private First Class Axel Blaiden," he answered her.

"Sgt Blaiden, you may not understand what I am doing but I assure you that Revan has a much higher chance of surviving if you trust me. I know what I'm asking isn't fair. I'm asking you to place this man's life in the hands of religion rather than science. However, what I'm going to do will save him."

The medic glanced at his dieing patient and then to the Jedi. He knew that there wasn't anything he could do. At the very most, he could dip a bandage in bacta and lay it over the wound, which would begin to repair the skin. The damage to his kidney was a different story. There was nothing that bacta could do for such serious organ damage. It needed to be removed. With the equipment he had to work with and his basic training, there was no way that he could actually save the man. If the Jedi had a way of helping him to save a man's life then he would do as ordered. With a weak nod, he took a step back and made a gesticulation, indicating that she could begin. Saluting to the two Jedi, Sergeant Blaiden walked out of the room, despaired.

"Poor man," Leia muttered, pitying him for a moment.

"I don't know how well Revan will respond to this," Bastila stated as she walked over to the pack that the Tarisian Rebel had haphazardly tossed to the corner of the room. She rummaged around for a moment before she pulled out what she had been looking for: Darth Vader's lightsaber. "Here."

Leia took the Sith weapon, expecting to feel a surge of darkness as she touched it. Strangely, she felt no such thing. The lightsaber had no aura whatsoever. It was a cold piece of metal. Vader had left no mark on it. She twisted it over in her hands, inspecting it closely. A frown crossed her features. It looked familiar. She had seen the weapon before. She had been in the Dark Lord's presence several times in the past and he had used in front of her more than once but she had never taken time to commit its characteristics to memory. Now that she actually was paying attention, she realized that it bore a striking resemblance to another lightsaber that she had seen before.

"This looks exactly like Luke's lightsaber," she stated.

Bastila ignored the comment. Ever since her accidental mind meld with Darth Vader, she had sensed some sort of connection between the Sith Apprentice and Luke Skywalker. Now wasn't the time to dwell on the matter, however. Obi-Wan's apprentice was missing and the Talravin Jedi still blamed herself for the matter. Revan was dieing and she needed to concentrate on saving his life. Once that was taken care of, she could ponder the link between an innocent farm boy from Tatooine and the second most powerful political figure in the galaxy.

The Jedi Knight walked over to Revan and took his cold hand into hers. She could feel how tense his muscles were just by touching him. Swallowing, she began to mentally prepare herself for what she was about to do. Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, the Jedi closed her pale blue eyes and began to concentrate on the Force inside of her. The spark of light side energy that burned strongly within her began to dance wildly, sending bursts of power through her fingertips.

Leia tightened her grip on the lightsaber that was inactive in her hand and watched the situation nervously.

Twenty minutes later, two Rebel soldiers escorting a Twi'lek doctor, came aboard the transport, after it had docked inside of a Rebel capital cruiser. The violet skinned alien entered the back room, where Bastila was still channeling her energy into Revan. Princess Leia approached the trio that had intruded in on the Jedi healing and blocked their path. "Give her a moment," the princess ordered. "This is a sensitive matter."

"We were told that patient was in critical condition and needed immediate attention," the Twi'lek snapped. "Let me through."

"My master has been healing Revan since we left the planet's surface. The recovery process isn't as precise as surgery would have been but it's far more effective."

"I find that hard to believe. Now let me through!" the alien ordered.

"Once this is over, then you can take him. In the mean time, we cannot disturb-,"

"It's alright Leia," the princess heard the Talravin Jedi's cultured voice.

Leia turned around. Bastila had gotten to her feet and was stepping away from Revan shakily. "You may take him, Doctor," she said with an approving nod.

The female physician snorted as she walked by the two Jedi and snorted something about Jedi telling her to do her job. The two women ignored the violet skinned alien's comment and waited for her, along with her two escorts, to depart. "How do you feel?" Leia asked her master once they were gone.

"Tired," Bastila responded. "I need to rest before we return to the planet's surface."

"I'll speak with Admiral Forn about a status update. My hope is that we won't need to return to the surface."

"We'll see," the more experienced Jedi responded, though her voice bore no traces of the optimism that her padawan's did. "Keep an eye on Revan. If anything happens, come get me immediately."

"Of course," Leia answered with an affirming nod. "Go. Rest."

Bastila shook her head in weary agreement before following the medical staff. Leia stayed inside the docked transport for several minutes, simply trying to use the Force bond that she had inadvertently developed with Bastila in order to sift through the confusion within her friend's mind. Unfortunately, it didn't seem that her friend wanted any such help. Bastila had raised her mental shielding to a point that Leia could not penetrate. Frustrated, the young padawan redirected her attention to the lightsaber that was now clipped to her belt. She unhooked it and brought it back into her hands, biting her lip as she once again studied its eccentric features. It was very different from the lightsabers that Bastila, Obi-Wan, Yoda, and the Dark Jedi on Yavin had used. In fact, Luke's lightsaber was the only one that she had ever seen that had any sort of resemblance to the black and silver weapon.

"It's time that I had my own lightsaber," she commented thoughtfully as she turned it over in her hands.

Ever since she had agreed to become Bastila's apprentice, back on Yavin, Leia had studied hard and tried to teach herself the ways of the lightsaber. Bastila had taught her a few techniques using vibroblades and she was sure that she wouldn't impale herself just by activating the weapon. Still, it felt cold. There was nothing significant about the weapon in her hands. It felt as if it had no owner. Darth Vader had not bonded with it. It had not become an extension of himself, as Bastila's golden hued weapon had. When Leia touched her master's weapon, she felt the link between the knight and her sword. It felt awkward holding the Jedi Knight's lightsaber, simply because it did not and could not, belong to her. Vader's weapon was a different story. It was a shell; neutral. She, a Jedi of the light, could use it. Revan, a Dark Lord of the Sith, could use it. Why?

Pondering the question, the princess stepped out of the transport and looked around the hangar. Most of the crew was on the planet's surface, so only a few tech specialists and droids occupied the empty room. Shrugging, she decided that it was time to pay her growling stomach the attention it deserved. Her curiosity did not supersede her hunger in terms of priorities, nor did her concern for Revan. The doctors would have him under heavy medication to keep him unconscious during the surgery, which, judging by the nature of the wound, would take several hours. Removing an organ such as the kidney was not a quick process. It was safe to say that the Dark Lord would be out of commission for quite some time.

At last, heeding the warning that her stomach was growling at her, the young woman started towards the mess hall to find something to eat.

Meanwhile, at the heart of the Galactic Empire, his Majesty, the Supreme Emperor Palpatine or, as he was known in private, Darth Sidious, sighed very loudly as he moved around his ornate desk towards his comfortable easy chair, and seated himself. The Dark Lord slammed his hand down with strength deceiving of a man his age, causing several stacked datapads to spill over, onto the floor with a clatter. The politician ignored these, however, and focused on the man in front of him. Private Cordith stood at attention, waiting for the highest ranking official in the Imperial Military to speak.

He was nervous. The military officer had just had the misfortune of passing Darth Vader's report of the events at Bast Castle to the Emperor. This alone, on any given day, would have been bad enough. The galactic sovereign was known to have a temper that rivaled that of his apprentice. More than one unlucky messenger had been carried out of the Emperor's office in a body bag. It had been foul luck that had placed him on duty when the transmission from Vjun had come in. His girlfriend, a long legged Twi'lek girl with an ample bosom, had persuaded him to trade shifts with another soldier so that they could spend the end of the week alone together, at her private apartment in the city. He'd eagerly agreed to the proposition, unaware that it would place him in the Emperor's presence.

Worse still, Cordith was unaware of the other messages that had come across Sidious's desk that very day. Eight different attacks had been issued against the Empire, Vjun included. The two most notable, however, were the attacks on Kashyyyk and Corellia. After twenty years, the Wookiee war hero, Chewbacca, had returned home and had led a group of Rebels against the slavers that had usurped control of his people. The Wookiee had been successful in liberating his shackled brothers and purging the planet of Imperial presence within just a few short hours. At first, Sidious had been reluctant to believe that such reports could be true. It wasn't until another important fact was revealed that he accepted it as truth.

Before transmission with the Imperial garrison had been lost, a security feed had been sent back to Coruscant. The video file had shown one of the assailants that had aided in the raid on the slaver stronghold. A small green alien, wielding a shortened emerald lightsaber, had been portrayed, ripping several AT-STs apart. The Lord of the Sith had instantly recognized the alien as Jedi Master Yoda, former Grand Master of the Jedi Order. This information had not been taken well. Yoda had vanished just after the formation of the Empire and hadn't been seen or heard of since. His location had been a complete mystery and the Sith Lord had truly hoped that the Jedi bastard had died.

Then there was Corellia. A small fleet, lead by a smuggling vessel that had been ID'd as the _Millennium Falcon, _had fired on the orbital defense station that had been installed over the planet, ultimately wiping out the Imperial forces there. The Corellians, who had long sought to discard the Empire, had provided no assistance, and were now offering to openly trade and negotiate with the Rebels. Worse, another Jedi had been seen with this group as well. This one, an older man who had used a blue lightsaber, was probably Master Yoda's close friend, Obi-Wan Kenobi. The fact that both of them had resurfaced had been enough to give him a headache. The other attacks and Lord Vader's report of the abandonment of Vjun put him in a truly astringent mood.

It wasn't that Vjun even mattered. It was a worthless planet. Its location had no strategic value for the Empire and the dark side energies there could also be harvested from Korriban, Ziost, or any of the other dozens of ancient Sith worlds. The planet had no natural resources of value. Due to the high acidity of the rain that dropped from the thick clouds, agriculture was impossible. Bast Castle was the only Imperial position there. Its loss was of little consequence. Vader had been given the planet to keep him out of the way. The only problem was morale. Since word had spread that he had constructed a super weapon with the power to destroy a planet within the blink of an eye and that that very same super weapon had been destroyed by a one man starfighter, many had defected from the Empire, favoring the Rebel Alliance instead. If word got out that Darth Vader's castle had been taken by the Rebels as well, fear of the Supreme Commander of the Imperial Fleet would die. If the former Jedi Knight was no longer considered a symbol of fear, he would become truly useless.

Fortunately for Private Cordith, the Emperor was too busy considering his next course of action, rather than focusing on venting his frustrations on the nearest person he could find. His nerves were still running red hot, however. The silence that had grown between the two was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. The non-commissioned soldier was shaking visibly, despite his attempts to maintain control. Sidious smirked at this, enjoying the fear that his servant radiated. He bit his lip thoughtfully before looking up and addressing the pitiful man. "Have we had contact with Lord Vader?" he asked, choosing not to torment the man before getting down to business.

"He's alive, your majesty," Cordith replied. "He was injured during the assault by a Jedi Knight. He says that she caught him off-guard."

A third Jedi. Typical. Sidious sighed deeply. Had the Jedi Purges truly been a royal waste of time or was his apprentice truly that incompetent? It had been Vader who had been charged with finding the men and women who escaped the assault on the Jedi Temple during Operation: Knightfall. If a single Jedi had risen up to strike at the Empire, as a few had in the last generation, Sidious wouldn't have been concerned. Three uprisings which had been led by Jedi had occurred in the last twenty-four hours. It would seem that the Jedi had been biding their time and had chosen now as a prime moment to re-emerge. There were at least three that needed to be dealt with, though the Dark Lord was wise enough to know that assuming these three to be the only Jedi on his plate would be foolish. There were probably more. Kenobi and Yoda had probably spent all of this time in a secret academy, training new padawans to become Jedi Knights. Twenty years later, they were lashing out. It was a problem that he had thought himself finished with. To learn that the Jedi were still an influential force in the galaxy was infuriating.

"Tell Lord Vader to return to Coruscant," Darth Sidious ordered. "Along with the fleets. I want all of our defenses surrounding the deep core. We'll let Darth Revan handle the Rebellion for the time being. We must fortify our position."

"But won't all of our other worlds be left defenseless?" the private, who had studied quite a bit of military history during his time at the Imperial Academy, inquired.

"Yes," the Emperor said dismissively. "But I am certain that Darth Revan and the Rebellion will wipe each other out. Once they have, reclaiming our territory will be a simple matter."

Cordith didn't agree. If they left their worlds defenseless, this alleged Sith Emperor and the Rebel Alliance would starting claiming new worlds for themselves. After years of oppression and iron rule at the hands of the New Order, as some called the Empire, any alternative would seem pleasant in comparison. The number of individuals in both groups would skyrocket. Once both sides were inflated, they would start laying waste to the entire galaxy, ravaging the Empire's natural resources and killing billions of men and women that could serve as labor forces or future soldiers. He didn't see how this strategy would help the Empire in any way. As far as he could tell, it was an act of sheer cowardice.

Catching the stray thought as it wandered through his servant's mind, Sidious frowned. "Excuse me, Private?" He asked, contempt dripping from his tone like acid that burned into the young man painfully.

"I didn't say anything, sir," the soldier replied, confusion marring his features. He knew that he had done something wrong though. The Emperor's tone told him all he needed to know. He was dead.

"Silence," the Sith Lord hissed as tendrils of white hot lightning ripped from his finger tips, zapping the non-commissioned officer. A high pitched shriek pierced the air for several seconds before it died off. The body crumpled to the ground, wisps of smoking sizzling from the body.

Groaning in annoyance, the Emperor realized that he had just killed the man who had been his messenger. Now he needed to contact a scribe in order to relay the orders to the fleet. Grumbling, the old man chose to set that task aside for the moment. Maybe he, as the Emperor, would be pulling out of the war for the time being but as the Dark Lord of the Sith would do no such thing. There were too many prizes to be claimed and he would not allow them to simply slip through his grasp.

First, there was the Empire itself. It had taken him the majority of his life to secure control of the Galactic Republic and to reform it to his liking. Even now, there were still some obvious flaws to address. He had apprenticed himself to a Muun Sith Lord named Darth Plagueis, who had learned some of the deepest mysterious of the Force, including how to cheat death itself. The alien had been a brutal master and the decades of apprenticeship had been long and toilsome. Sidious had been tortured many times during this time period, only to come out stronger in the end. Knowing that his master was immortal while focused, the then middle-aged Sith apprentice had killed him in his sleep, taking the master's position of Dark Lord of the Sith.

He had already taken a young Zabrak as his student by that point. This apprentice served him faithfully for many years, up until his death on Naboo. During that time, Sidious had risen to power and become the Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic. From there, he located a new apprentice. Count Dooku, a former Jedi Master who had become disgruntled with the Order, had found him and fallen to the dark side. As Darth Tyrannus, Dooku initiated a civil war within the Republic and lead the Separatist forces against Coruscant. The war had provided the perfect cover for his true plan. While Tyrannus had kept the galaxy busy, Sidious had slowly siphoned the powers of democracy from the people, making him more of a monarch than a politician. At the end of the war, he was able to reform the Republic into the first Galactic Empire and replace Tyrannus with a new, more powerful apprentice: Darth Vader.

All had been well for the first few hours. There had only been one real attempt on his life, which had come from Yoda. Once this threat had been nullified, his reign was secure. No one would have the strength to challenge him. Unfortunately, the Jedi couldn't give up without robbing him of one of his key assets. Obi-Wan Kenobi had viciously mutilated Lord Vader, robbing him of his three good limbs and charring his body in the molten fires of the Mustafar system. The apprentice who had been so gifted in the Force was now little more than a shell of the Sith Lord he had been for a few shining hours. A replacement was long overdue.

That's where Darth Revan came into play. The Sith Emperor reminded him very much of Anakin Skywalker. As a Jedi, Skywalker had been powerful, passionate, and charismatic. Revan shared these same traits. According to the history archives, Revan been solely responsible for the outcome of two wars in the course of five years. From what the Dark Lord could tell, his opponent would make an excellent student. If only he could be swayed away from his archaic Sith Empire and come to see the wisdom of the teachings of Darth Bane. If Revan came to follow the Rule of Two, rather than the disorganized Sith teachings he currently followed, the Sith's hold on the galaxy would be complete. The two would make an invincible pair. Darth Vader and Darth Malak would be cast aside. Vader's loyalty was questionable and Sidious didn't feel safe letting Revan's current apprentice live. The change of power would make him ambitious. That was not something that he needed in another Sith Lord. Revan and only Revan could take the seat at Darth Sidious's right hand.

The prospect of watching Revan enter into a duel with Darth Vader was an exciting one. It was one that he could only anticipate with a child's glee. Smiling, he leaned back in his chair and pressed a button on his desk, calling for the mortician to report to his office. Over the years, the two had become familiar with one another and Sidious wanted to ask the man how his affairs were anyhow. Perhaps killing the private hadn't been such a bad idea.


	15. Bonded

**The Darkest Lord**

**Chapter XV: Bonded**

The wailing sound of a distressed woman's voice reverberated in the inner corridors of Bastila's mind as she slept. The disturbing sound did not awaken her. No. Instead, it drew her even deeper into her own thoughts. It was not coming from the world around her. The young Jedi Knight could sense that the disturbance she felt was coming from within. Sifting through the layers of psychosis was not a difficult process. She had long since learned all of the ins and outs of her own self; a feat that few Jedi her age were truly able to accomplish. Even the Jedi Masters didn't know their own minds so well. As she continued to search, however, something felt different. It was a subtle change but one of profound impact. Something felt wrong. It wasn't that her memories had not changed or altered in any way but as she navigated through them, they felt as if they had been…tampered with. Her own mind felt like a foreign world that she had never visited before. Turning even deeper within herself, she elected to keep looking for whatever was affecting her in this manner.

It wasn't a terribly long period of time before she found the anomaly. The human mind was not particularly large in terms of physical size. There weren't that many places where one could safely hide a foreign object or substance. There were however barriers to make up for this. All Jedi had learned to protect their minds from invasion. The Force allowed them to throw up mental shields that could be used to guard secrets. The abnormality was located in one of the deepest, most well guarded portions she had inside of her. What the young woman came upon in this secure area of her subconscious scared her.

There were two distinct structures that had been erected only recently. One, she had been very much aware of for some time. It had appeared only a few weeks ago and it brought her warmth, security, and strength. The other was completely new. "Where did this come from?" she asked, a grim smile crossing her lovely features as she approached the newer of the two, taking in its appearance. Both objects held the same basic shape. If she had to describe them, she would have called them small mental obelisks that extending through her mind and even outward. The older of the two was a healthy pink color, similar to that of an actual human brain. Although it wasn't normal, it fit in well. One could look at this obelisk and mistake it for some that that was supposed to be found the Jedi's brain. The newer one was just an eyesore. It had a sickly, putrid purple taint to it that made her feel queasy when she looked at it. It was a dull object of decay in a thriving environment of growth.

She knew what both of them were. They were Force bonds that bridged her mind to the minds of others. The rosy pinkish one had been formed sevaral weeks previously, when she and Princess Leia had used a Mind Meld to strengthen the power of their natural Battle Meditation abilities, allowing the Rebel Alliance to destroy the Imperial Death Star. This was the one that brought her security and allowed her to share Force energy with her apprentice. The two used it as a part of Leia's training. It was why the inexperienced princess of Alderaan was able to learn the ways of the Jedi so quickly.

This second one, however, was completely new. The echoing of a woman in distress was coming from the newer Force bond. Curiosity overtook the Jedi as she placed her hand on the obelisk, allowing her to use the bond to glance into the other person's mind. Her vision dipped to white as she suddenly moved into the bond of its accord. As her consciousness was pulled from her own mind and redirected to another, a feeling of bone chilling cold overwhelmed her. She shivered violently as her sight came back a few moments later and she was no longer in her own subconscious. She had appeared in a private bunk aboard what looked like a standard Hammerhead class Republic warship from her own time era. Glancing around, she took in the familiar features of the vessel with a frown. The memory would have been a warm one for her, except for the fact that it was clouded by darkness. Whomever she was now connected to was tainted by the dark side of the Force, which effectively cut all of the warmth and solitude one could find in the Force out of the picture. Instead, all that this person felt was a cold sense of emptiness, which had been passed onto Bastila when she had entered his or her mind.

She shivered again, even more violently this time, as she turned her attention to the two individuals that were already in the room when she had arrived. In the not so well furnished bunk, Bastila saw a young woman, a teenager, curled up in a ball in the corner, between the harsh metal wall and a comfortable looking sofa that served as a bed. Sobs wracked the poor girl's body and if this had been anything more than someone's memory, the Jedi Knight would have felt compelled to comfort the girl. As it was, she was nothing more than an illusion, preserved by time. Interaction between the silvery haired girl and Bastila was impossible. She could be certain of one thing, however. The girl in the corner was a Jedi. The standard cream and chocolate colored robes that she wore were indicative of that. She probably had only reached the level of padawan, judging by the style of robe that she wore. Her outfit was very conservative; standard. Knights didn't typically wear standard clothes. Those were primarily reserved for padawans and councilors.

The other person in the room was also a Jedi, though his robes indicated that he had been knighted already. His garments were completely brown and he lacked the outer robe that most Jedi chose to wear in place of a cloak, but he was a Jedi nonetheless. He was of a moderate height and build, with a muscular structure that he had toned and perfected over the years. He looked to be only slightly older than the sobbing girl in the corner, though only by a year at the very most. His familiar face was laden with pity for his friend. He approached her slowly, crouching down in front of her.

"Revan!" Bastila murmured to herself as she watched the scene before her unfold.

Suddenly, the light bulb went on and it clicked in Bastila's thoughts. She had developed a Force bond with Darth Revan when she had healed him. She suddenly felt very angry with herself for letting such a thing happen. With a loud scream of fury, she hurled a wave of Force energy at the man that she truly despised. He was unaffected by it of course. The memory around Bastila rippled for a moment before returning to normal. Fuming, the Jedi crossed her arms over her chest and simply watched the events unfold before her.

"-no other way," Revan was saying to the poor girl as he repositioned himself so that he was sitting with his back against the wall, beside her. "We're doing what's right. We're doing what the galaxy needs us to do."

"It's not right, Revan!" the girl snapped through a sob. "Those brutes have just as much right to live as the rest of the galaxy and I killed them!"

"Mina, the Mandalorians are animals. They've razed entire worlds to the ground. If we don't stop them, who will? The council? They've already made their decision."

"How are we better than them, Rev? We just abandoned the Order for murder and war. Is that what you promised the Jedi who follow you? Is this the desire of the Revanchist?"

"Of course not," he said firmly. "Look at me." The girl made no move to look at anything other than her kneecaps, causing Revan to sigh loudly. "Look at me," he repeated, this time with a little more force. The girl, Mina, glanced up at him, her emerald green eyes meeting his sapphire blue ones. "We made a difference on Taris, Mina. I know what you're thinking. Twenty of our friends may have died today but think of what they died for. They gave their lives for justice. They fulfilled the oaths that they swore when they became Jedi."

"An oath to kill?"

"An oath to protect," he corrected her. "You saw how bad Taris was. The crime lords and the Mandalorians would have ripped the planet to shreds before too long. I know that you were on the front lines and had to face the brunt of the battle but Mina, you have no idea what we did in the lower cities." She didn't bid him to continue but he chose to anyway. "Slave auctions and spice exchange. Aliens on that world were being sold off. Children even! I rescued a small Cathar girl from a slaver today. Do you know what that bastard had put her through? Weeks of sexual molestation before he decided that she was worth more in credits. The girl is nine years old, Mina. Nine! Was saving her the wrong choice? Was it?"

Mina looked away, unable to hold his gaze anymore. "I just don't know," she responded grimly. The young, confused Jedi stood up and moved over to the sofa, sitting down and burying her face in her hands. Revan groaned as he stood up, clearly pained by an injury somewhere on his leg, and moved to sit beside her.

"The Jedi aren't perfect, Mina," he said as his shoulders sagged sadly. "Their code is flawed. The Masters aren't perfect. They've repressed us for years. With their wisdom, they allowed men such as Exar Kun and Ulic Qel-Droma to rise to power and cast the galaxy into darkness. The Republic can't stand another full scale war like that. We have to stop the Mandalorians before the entire galaxy collapses beneath our feet. You know what would happen? Anarchy. Anarchy would engulf the Republic and the Mandalorians barbaric culture would become the dominant power."

"Is that any worse than the Jedi? Look at me Revan? Look at what I've become?" she held up her hands, showing them to him. There was nothing. They were pristine. Her soft white skin had been scrubbed so thoroughly that any blisters or broken skin that resulted from wielding her lightsaber had been removed. "They're covered in blood!" she told him. "I can still feel it between my fingers! I couldn't handle what we faced today and I'm a Jedi! I can't deal with what I'm feeling inside because I've spent the last seventeen years trying to be devoid of human emotions. Is that what we're supposed to be? Are the Jedi simply supposed to be drones that can kill and protect without feeling anything? Are we supposed to be numb to our actions? If that's what we are, then maybe the Mandalorians and the Sith are more advanced than us… Maybe we should just accept what we feel as a part of us, rather than become empty shells."

"That's what we've done!" Revan said in disbelief as he stood up and looked down at her. "Our feelings are what led us to Taris. They're leading us to Dxun now! Don't say that you're devoid of feelings when you're feelings told you to ignore the highest law of our Order and join us against the Neo-Crusaders!"

"You know that's not what I'm talking about, Revan!" she snapped as she stood up to face him, hardening herself for the emotional blow she was almost definitely about to receive.

"Then what are you saying, Mina? Really? What greater acceptance of your feelings could there be?"

"When you killed the Mandalorians today, did you hate them?"

"Of course not. Jedi do not feel hate," he responded.

"But you're not a Jedi anymore, Revan! You're a renegade!" she shouted.

"You're broken up because what you did today went against everything you were ever taught to believe and you're yelling at me for standing up for what I was raised to know?" he returned.

"Not yelling at you for it," she said as she sighed, too weary to get into a full shouting match. "I'm just pointing out the hypocrisy."

"What hypocrisy, Mina?" he asked wearily.

"You have feelings that you refuse to accept. I can sense it. You've been hiding from me since you first saw me on Naboo. Why?"

"Because you're a distraction," he said bluntly.

"A distraction?"

"Our friendship was strong three years ago. We don't have time to get re-acquainted right now. I have a war effort to lead."

"Our friendship?" she repeated.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked her as he turned away.

Bastila felt uncomfortable. Despite the fact that the future Sith Lord couldn't see her, he was looking directly at her. Under the weight of his heavy blue eyes, she felt small. Her gray eyes flicked away from him, back towards the girl.

"Because I know you feel the same thing that I do," she answered as she stood up and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You feel the same guilt that I do. You feel the same uncertainty and fear. And I know you came here to check on me because you feel for me the way I feel for you."

Mina was unsure of what she should do next. She bit her lip in a moment of indecisiveness. Revan turned back to face her, his eyes softening as they met hers. "I don't know what I'm feeling," he told her honestly as he wrapped his arms around her.

"Maybe you should find out," she whispered as she closed her eyes and leaned forward.

"Maybe," he whispered back as he leaned in and kissed her, as he had wanted to kiss her nearly three years previously, when she had left for Dantooine.

Bastila expected the man she knew as a Sith Lord to toss the younger Jedi aside and rebuke her for her actions but he didn't. Instead, he gave in. He was returning the kiss passionately. It was strange to see a man that she knew to be a cold hearted killer act this way. He wasn't using the confused Jedi. This wasn't his idea of a self-serving game. She could sense that much. He truly had romantic feelings for the girl.

"Revan, make love to me," Mina hissed in between kisses.

Bastila's eyes widened. "What?" she screamed as she turned to stare at them in horror. Realizing what she had just turned to look at, the Talravin Jedi turned away again, determined not to watch the events that were about to unfold in that very room.

"Bloody Sith Lord," she sneered to herself as she covered her ears and closed her eyes.

In the same moment, aboard a Rebel Alliance capital ship that was en route to the Hoth system, Darth Revan and Bastila Shan woke up. They both sat up simultaneously and looked around the room, taking in similar settings. Both were in the Rebel ship's medical facility and neither of them were sure how they had come to be there. As the two scanned the room, their eyes fell on one another. Bastila's features darkened. Revan's contorted with rage.

"You!" Revan hissed angrily as he slipped out of his bed and started towards Bastila's.

"Stop!"

The Dark Lord did stop as he realized that there were more than a dozen blasters trained on him in less than a moment's time, laser sites dotting his entire body. Looking around, he saw that the room was filled with Rebels. It suddenly occurred to him that the last time a large group of Rebels had surrounded him, he'd ended up with a hole in the back. His hands rose into the air, indicating that he meant no harm as backed away from Bastila. The infuriated expression on his face didn't do much to convince his audience of this though. Princess Leia, who was holding a Rebel Disruptor, approached Bastila.

"Are you alright," she asked her master, not taking her eyes off of the madman that stood on the opposite end of the bed.

"Why am I in here?" the Talravin Jedi asked as she looked around.

"You've been unconscious for nearly two weeks," her apprentice informed her. "You never woke up after you healed… him."

"That's how this happened?" Revan seethed as he watched the two women. "You Jedi bitch!"

"Everyone put your blasters down," Bastila ordered as she slipped out of bed to stand beside Leia, ignoring the derogatory comment. "You," she said as she turned towards Revan. "Had best calm down."

Revan's lip curled into a sneer as he looked at Bastila, contemplating the many painful things he would do to her before he finally showed her the mercy of killing her. This Jedi had been a thorn in his side ever since he came forward in time. First she had invaded his mind with her Battle Meditation aboard his now destroyed flagship. Then she had escaped him when they had been on Darth Vader's Death Star. Now she had crossed the line. It had been years since the Lord of the Sith had known a Force bond in his mind. His bond with Mina had been shredded when her connection to the Force had been severed on Malachor V. The normal bond that was known to form between a master and an apprentice that had formed between himself and Traya died when she fell to the dark side of the Force, while he had remained a servant of the light with the Jedi. It hadn't been until later that he himself had fallen but the bond had already been broken. Having a new one thrust upon him was more than enough to make him angry.

"I should kill you, Jedi," he snarled at her.

"You'll die trying, Revan," Leia warned, brandishing her blaster threateningly.

Over the years, the Sith Lord had grown accustomed to respect and, more importantly, he had grown accustomed to people fearing him. No one had threatened him face to face in years. It annoyed him more than it actually angered him. He decided that he wouldn't accept such attitude from a pint sized, Jedi wannabe and, judging by her Force signature, that's all she was for the moment. He extended his hand, ripping the disruptor pistol from her grasp. Before any of the soldiers around him could react, he tore their weapons away as well, forming a small pile on the ground before him.

Leia was the first to form some sort of attack against the Dark Lord. She activated the lightsaber that had belonged to Darth Vader and leapt over Bastila's bed, closing the distance between herself and the captured Sith Lord. Foolishly, she swung the crimson blade with a wide, open strike, leaving herself completely vulnerable. Revan ducked to avoid the thrust and delivered a bone crushing kick to the princess's abdomen. She grunted in pain as her legs stumbled backwards, keeping a firm hold on her weapon all the while. Revan jumped at the chance to take a lightsaber, knowing that it would give him a major advantage over his captors. Lunging at Leia, he grabbed her wrist, twisting it so that she'd relinquish the weapon. Before he could take it, however, a Rebel soldier grabbed him and tossed him into one of the medical beds.

Revan turned back towards the soldier who had attacked him and socked him across the jaw. The force of the blow sent the man flying and he crashed into a defibrillator cart that was located nearby. Bastila quickly moved to intercede and punched Revan on the left side of his back, where his stitches had been until recently. They had been removed while the Sith Lord had been unconscious but the wound area was still very sensitive. The Dark Lord's eyes widened and he cried out loudly in pain. His legs buckled beneath him and he collapsed down to one knee, furious that he had left his injury exposed to the same Jedi who had healed him.

"Get a tranquillizer!" Leia shouted.

"You stick that needle in me and I'll kill every last one of you," Revan threatened as he tried to stand up.

Leia approached him, lightsaber raised, prepared to strike if he made so much as the slightest wrong move. Through the haze of his pain, the Lord of Revenge attempted to attack again. Reversing the saber in her hand, Leia bashed him in the head with the butt of her weapon, causing him to crumple to the ground. He held onto his consciousness though. Trying to stand again, Revan hissed at her. "Where's the tranquillizer?" Leia snapped.

"Stand down," Bastila ordered as she knelt beside Revan. She grabbed the Dark Lord's shoulder and dug her nails into his skin. "You don't have much of a choice, Revan. Cooperate or we'll have you executed now."

"And what would that do to your mind once I'm dead, Jedi?" he inquired with a victorious smirk. "You can't kill me without ripping your own thoughts apart."

The door to the room slid open and Commander Onasi came onto the scene. "Bastila, here," he said as he tossed her a Force inhibitor. She deftly caught the device and attached it to the Dark Lord's forearm, instantly deafening his connection to the Force. "What?" Revan gasped in shock of suddenly losing his sixth sense. Bastila locked the device into his arm and smirked at him.

"Looks like it won't come to that," she told him haughtily. Carth moved beside the Jedi, clamping their prisoner's wrists in a pair of bonders. "Security feeds showed you were having trouble," he explained. "Thought I'd come help."

"Much appreciated," Bastila answered. "Will you take Revan down to the holding cells? I want to speak with him after I'm dressed."

"He might not be as prepared if you interrogate him before getting dressed," the pilot suggested playfully, trying to lighten the mood.

"Commander Onasi!" she said indignantly.

"Wrong audience, soldier," Revan said with a smirk that any male in the room currently wore.

Carth smiled as he straightened up, lifting the Sith Lord to his feet. "Soldiers, follow me," he ordered.

With a forceful shove, Carth started to lead Revan out of the room, towards the prisons on the lower levels of the ship. With a sigh, the Talravin Jedi stood up, still shocked by Carth's inappropriate comment. "Men," she muttered before turning to face her apprentice as the younger girl deactivated the crimson lightsaber. The two eyed each other closely for a moment before Bastila turned away, heading towards the fresher.

A good twenty minutes later, Bastila pulled a fresh set of brown robes on, having showered thoroughly and discarded the medical gown that her nurses had put her in nearly a week ago. Before leaving her quarters, she clipped her double bladed lightsaber to her belt. As she reached for the door, a thought struck her. If she was going to interrogate Revan, she would use the Jedi method before proceeding with more drastic measurements that the Alliance preferred. The first approach was always to kill the prisoner with kindness. With Revan, she'd be cordial. Turning around, she went back to the footlocker that rested at the foot of her bed and flicked the manual locks open. The lid slid open and she began sifting through the various objects that she had untidy stuffed in there in her haste to get off Yavin nearly two weeks previously.

While she and Obi-Wan had explored the great Massassi ruins on the jungle planet, the two Jedi had come across numerous objects that had once belonged to Exar Kun. While few of these still functioned or were of any value, she had held onto some of them. One thing that she had decided to spare from the trash compactor was an old set of jet black robes, which had withered surprisingly little over the millennia. Doubtful that Revan's hospital gown was any more comfortable than hers had been, the Jedi decided that it would be best to pass the ancient garments from one Sith Lord to the next.

Outside, Leia was waiting for her patiently. The Jedi Knight walked past her apprentice, jerking her head forward in an indication that she should follow. The princess complied with the silent request and began walking. "You picked a bad time to go into a Force induced coma," she said, a hint of annoyance in her voice. "A lot has happened in the last two weeks."

"Tell me everything," Bastila ordered as she continued taking long strides towards the elevator, her eyes focused on the robes that she carried.

"Most of our attacks on the Empire were successful. We managed to liberate Kashyyyk, Corellia, Vjun, Nar Shaddaa, Raxus Prime, and Felucia without sustaining heavy casualties."

"I take it that there is a downside, however?" the Talravin Jedi asked, noting the dreary tone in her student's voice.

"Dxun and Dantooine were both failures. We couldn't retake them. Ziost was the worst though. We lost over two thousand men for nothing there."

"I told the senate that Ziost was a bad idea. Taking either of the major Sith planets was begging for trouble that we didn't need and couldn't afford," Bastila said with a snort.

The two arrived at the elevator as she finished speaking. Leia, an agitated tone affecting her voice, pressed the touch pad that would signal to the elevator as she started to make a response. "The Emperor is afraid of us," she boasted. "Due to our efforts, he's barricaded himself on Coruscant. The entire Imperial fleet, all of its ships and men, are standing between us and the galactic capital, leaving the rest of the Empire completely unattended."

Bastila threw her head back in laughter when she heard this, completely surprised by the revelation. "Completely unattended?" she repeated. "Hopefully that will stem the tide of bloodshed."

"Hopefully," Leia greed. "However, the Mandalorians have started expanding. With no one controlling the Empire, they managed to take Onderon, Roon, Sereco, and Geonosis. They're building up their forces and it looks like they may begin a full scale invasion."

That sounded familiar. Of course it did. She had seen the Mandalorians act in just such a fashion before. They had attacked several outer rim worlds that had no way of defending themselves. Each world had some sort of strategic advantage, making it a target for the warrior clans. They would use the resources or population of each world to build up their own forces, making the united clans grow larger and more powerful. Once they were strong enough, a full scale assault on the galaxy would begin. This time, however, things wouldn't be the same. There were no renegade Jedi to repel them from reaching the galactic core. Only the Rebel Alliance had the man power to stand against any sort of full scale army or fleet. The problem with that option was that the Alliance was already engaged in a full scale war with the Galactic Empire, while remaining prepared for an equally deadly conflict with Revan's Sith Empire. No one would stand against the Mandalorians. No one.

"We need to neutralize that Mandalorian threat before it becomes a problem," she announced as she stepped into the elevator, stabbing the down button with her index finger. "We can't afford to become caught up in another war on top of the ones we already have to worry about."

"The Rebel Senate vetoed the proposition," her apprentice explained dryly. "The vote ended with eight opposed and only three in favor of attacking the Mandalorians."

"Politics," the Jedi groaned. The lift reached the bottom floor before she could continue and the two were admitted to the holding cells. They began walking down the aisles, looking into the ray shielded cells, hoping to find Revan. It didn't take them long before they did. All of the containment fields were empty, expect for his, which was guarded by two Rebels that stood at attention outside of the door. They saluted the two as they approached but did not lower their guard. From the bed inside of his prison cell, Revan looked up, seeing the two women that had come to interrogate him. His golden eyes brightened and a crooked smirk crossed his lips. His eyes focused on Bastila, rather than Leia.

Testing out his new connection with the young woman, Revan reached into the back of his mind, surveying the bond that was now located there. His enemy could feel his probing pressing against her. Her gray eyes flicked towards him and then back to the two guards. Chuckling darkly, the Lord of the Sith delved into the bond. A series of emotions and feelings passed over him. The Jedi was frustrated. Having him inside of her head had an unnerving effect. It was entertaining to him to see that he had such power over the girl who had invaded his own mind less than three months previously. To increase the effect, he stood up and moved towards the energy barrier, keeping eye contact with his target. The results were pleasing. Involuntarily, she took a step away from him.

"My name is Senator Leia Organa, from Alderaan," Leia told the two security guards, while Bastila mentally fought with the prisoner. "I have clearance to speak with the prisoner."

"Commander Onasi said that no one is to approach Darth Revan," the younger of the two men replied gruffly. "No one speaks with him."

"The both of us outrank Commander Onasi," the princess informed them. "Stand down."

They exchanged a glance for a moment before the older of them nodded. "Yes ma'am," he replied with a nod as they stepped aside. "But we will not leave him unattended."

"That will be fine," Revan said from inside of the cell. "Wouldn't want to be left alone with a Jedi anyway. She might get out of control."

Both of the Jedi glared at him. "Cover me," Bastila ordered her apprentice and the guards. The two men felt uneasy as the Jedi moved towards the control panel that would release Revan from his cell.

"Back away," the older one shouted at the prisoner as he turned his rifle on him. Revan made no motion to move. It wasn't until Leia and both guards had weapons trained on him that he began to take measured steps backwards, the confident smirk never leaving him. Once he was as far back as he possibly could be, Bastila pressed the button that would take down the shield that separated them. The multicolored light slowly dissolved as its emitters turned inwards, breaking the line of sight connection that was required to keep the shield up.

"Don't move," Leia warned him as she allowed the laser sight on her blaster to linger right between the Dark Lord's eyes.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he answered with a charming grin. Leia glared at him and closed one eye so that it wouldn't distort her targeting vision. Bastila stepped forward and set the clean robes down on the ground before him. For a fraction of a second, the two broke eye contact as his eyes flicked downwards to the garments before him. "A gift for your Lord?" he asked her.

"No," she answered indignantly as she stepped out of the cell and raised the shields again.

"I accept your token," he told her as he picked up the robes, examining them thoroughly before accepting that there were no devices or wires hidden within the folds. With no regard for his modesty, Revan removed the hospital gown that he wore, exposing himself to the four others. Leia and Bastila had similar reactions. Their faces both turned beet red. A scowl formed over the Talravinian's and she turned her head away. Leia gulped and closed her eyes, trying to force other images to fill her mind. The two soldiers, having served in the military before, knew that there was very little of the body that didn't become exposed during war. Nudity of either gender would not bother them, though the younger soldier felt the need to make a bigger show of it by simply watching Revan's every move as the Dark Jedi pulled the robes over his near-perfect form.

Once he was dressed, Revan shifted in the garments, testing the number of restrictions that they placed on him. He was pleased to find that there were very few and that he would be well suited to do combat in the robes if he were forced to do so. Keeping the outer robe and cloak off for the time being, he pulled the shin high boots on, buckling them as he did so.

"That's much more comfortable," he mumbled as he stood up. "Don't suppose you'd let me use the fresher too, would you?" he inquired innocently.

"Where are the Sith, Revan?" Bastila asked, returning to business.

"I don't know," he said with a shrug. "Haven't seen them for a few weeks."

"Where are they hiding?" the Jedi asked again calmly, reciting the Jedi Code in her mind as she did so.

"That code won't get you answers, Bastila," he said as he plucked her thoughts from her mind with no real effort.

"How are doing that?" Leia, who also could glance into her master's mind, snapped. "You've been fixed with a Force inhibitor! You should be stuck in your own mind!"

Revan chuckled. "I'm a virus," he told her as he glanced down at the bulge in his robes, where the device that the Rebels had locked to his bicep was located. "You can throw up as many firewalls and seekers as you want but I'll always be able to get through. Your master just made it easier when she linked out minds, the way that she linked yours, Leia," he explained with an icy chill to his voice. Leia shivered when she heard her own name. The princess forced herself to regain her composition. Hearing Revan call her by name, which she had never offered to him, was discomforting. Still, it was obvious what he was trying to do and she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her break. Even so, the Force inhibitor should have restrained his ability to follow the bond that linked their minds together. Bastila knew this. She had studied the effects of such items during her training on Dantooine. His mind should have been completely isolated within itself. If he was still able to follow their link to her mind, then what other powers did he still have control over? All of them? The idea that the Dark Lord was standing in front of her at full power made her flinch.

"Where are the Sith hiding, Revan?" she asked him one last time.

"Even if I told you, you'd never find then," he informed her.

"Then why don't you tell me if you're so confident," the Jedi challenged him.

"Rakata Prime," he answered as if it were nothing.

"Where?" Leia spoke.

"Told you that you wouldn't know where to start looking," the Sith Lord chuckled. "You'll get yourself killed if you go looking for it anyway. Hell, Malak and I almost died searching for that world."

"Tell us how to get there," the Alliance senator ordered their prisoner.

"Find it yourself," he returned. "It's hidden because only the worthy deserve to find it. You think the ancient Sith really left their greatest monument of power out in the open so that any Jedi with half a brain could find it? The secret of that planet's location has been a well guarded secret since before the advent of your Republic. I, after so many eons of Sith have protected it, won't disclose such information lightly."

"What do you want then?" Bastila asked, willing to bargain for the info she needed.

"The same thing I've always wanted, Bastila," he told her. "I want to see a galaxy where the Jedi aren't needed. I want the government to be strong enough to live without the influence of the Force. The wars between Jedi and Sith brought the Republic to the brink of collapse so many times. Now look at this Emperor, this self-proclaimed Dark Lord of the Sith. He's a Sith Lord like no other. He wiped the Republic and democracy out of the galaxy in just a few short years. He didn't seize power from the government either. The people handed him the throne to the galaxy. They locked themselves in their chains willingly. If this were the natural order of things, my people and I would begin exploring the unknown regions of space, searching for a place where we could live in our own fashion. But this isn't right. The Sith have control of society, which would be no better than if the Jedi had control."

"You call yourself an emperor as well, Revan," she snarled viciously. "You waged war on the Republic, conquering worlds so that you could expand your power and usurp control of the galaxy for yourself."

"Never my intention," he responded. "The galaxy was dependent on you and your Jedi Order. The Republic proved how weak it truly was when the Jedi elected to stay out of the Mandalorian Wars. They used the Jedi, an independent organization, as their military strength. My plan was always to take control of your Republic, root out all of the political corruption and strengthen the military so that it could be as strong as my own. Once I was done, I would have withdrawn my forces. I'd contract with the new Republic to send any and all Force sensitives to Korriban, where I would have them brought to the outer regions. They would be trained to use their gifts but would remain outside the sphere of the known galaxy."

"You expect us to believe that you would have simply relinquished power so easily?" Leia balked.

"I don't expect anything from you, Princess," he answered tersely. "Now, if there's anything else you'd like to bother me about, get on with it. I want to rest."

"No," Bastila told him. "We'll resume this later. You may rest."

She didn't even wait for another smart mouthed comment before striding off angrily. Leia gave the Dark Lord one last look before following her master out of the detention block. "I have never seen a prisoner act so calm before," Leia said to Bastila, once they were safely in the elevator.

"He doesn't think he's a prisoner," her mentor explained. "He feels as free as he would aboard the bridge of his own ship. That's a problem. We need help."

"Shall I contact Master Yoda and Master Kenobi?"

"I'll do it," the older of the two Jedi replied. "You need to work with the senate. If the Mandalorians are truly arming for battle, then we need to intervene before the Mandalorian Wars break out for a second time."

"Your training is now complete," Darth Malak's mechanical voice box uttered to Luke Skywalker as the two strolled onto the command deck of the Star Forge. "You have learned quickly and become a skilled Dark Jedi. Your power is most impressive indeed and you are worthy of becoming my apprentice and one day, when you are strong enough, you will take the mantel of Dark Lord from me. This is way of the Sith and this shall your way as well."

"Thank you, my master," the young man said as he and the former Jedi General walked up the observation window. Luke's blue eyes lingered on the infinite fleet that the Star Forge had produced in the last several weeks. The Sith forces had been growing. As the Mandalorians and the Sith Empire liberated more worlds from the Emperor's control, more and more men and women flocked to their cause. What once was a mere fleet of approximately one million was now four times as large. A small portion of that number, made up only of those who had traveled forward in time from the past, remained to guard the Star Forge. While it was unlikely that anyone would be able to penetrate the disruptor field that safeguarded the planet, Malak was taking precautions. He had studied the actions taken by his deceased master and knew that paranoia was not always a bad thing. Luke saw the thousands of ships that still protected their position. The dark gray hulls that made up the Sith ships were nearly undetectable against the black backdrop of space. His ability to see through the Force gave him his sight, rather than his actual eyes.

What he could see with his own eyes, however, was the beautiful planet of Rakata Prime, which loomed beneath them. It was whirl of blue oceans, mixed with white beaches, and green plains. The world was such a quaint one, yet it harbored such awful secrets. In the last weeks, Luke had personally visited the ancient temple that stood as a centerpiece of the former Rakatan Empire. The original, true Sith had built the temple in honor of the Force, whom they valued as a god. Their power still lingered within its ancient walls. As he had passed through the hallowed corridors, into the lower regions of the structure, he had felt their echo within the Force. It had called to him, beckoning him to indulge in the power of the dark side.

And he had done just that.

In the depths of the temple, Luke had been tested. The horrors that he had seen within the temple would remain with him forever but he had come out stronger in the end. He had come out a true Sith Lord. There was just one last thing that he had to do before he could become Darth Malak's apprentice: the covenant. The covenant was an ancient Sith practice, which dated back to the time of the true Rakatan Sith. It was used in order to test the loyalty of a prospective apprentice. The initiate, Luke in this case, would be forced to commit an atrocity on someone or something that he loved greatly. Revan, Malak, and Traya had all done this. Now it was Luke's turn. Once he had completed this test, he would be knighted as the Dark Lord of the Sith's true apprentice and would be dubbed Darth Caelum.

"Your mission is simple, Skywalker," his unofficial master told him. "For years you have idolized the Rebel Alliance for their opposition to the Galactic Empire. Now it is time to prove that your loyalty is to me and not them. One of their 'senators' is on Corellia, along with your old master, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Kill them both and you will truly be my apprentice and second in command of this great Sith Empire!"

"Yes, Lord Malak," Luke replied as he fell to one knee, bowing his head in reverence towards the more powerful Dark Jedi. "As you command." The mission he had been given pleased him. Obi-Wan Kenobi had watched over him his entire life, hiding secrets that he had deserved to know. For years the old man had let him believe that his father had been a navigator for some spice freighter. No. His father had been a great man, who had fought for what was right until Darth Vader had betrayed him. Maybe if Luke had known about his abilities, abilities that he had inherited from Anakin Skywalker, he could have saved Owen and Beru Lars. Instead, Vader had taken them from him too. Because of Obi-Wan, everyone that he cared for was dead.

"Before his death, Revan left me with the archives from what you know as the Clone Wars. Obi-Wan Kenobi is a powerful Jedi," Malak said, interrupting his student's thoughts.

"He is old and he is weak," the young man replied as he stood again. "I will rid the galaxy of his weakness quickly."

"I can sense your anger. Let it guide you. It makes you strong. It gives you focus. Use it and you will be able to strike down any Jedi. Once you have killed Kenobi, bring me his lightsaber as proof of your victory," the bald man ordered, stabbing his student with his index finger.

"Yes, Lord Malak," he repeated.

"Do not fail me, Skywalker. If you come back empty handed, I will not be forgiving."

"I will not fail you, master."


	16. Treachery

**The Darkest Lord**

**Chapter XVI: Treachery**

Tatooine was a dismal planet, Luke Skywalker decided as he trudged up a winding sandy slope, towards the gargantuan double doors that served as the entrance to the palace of Jabba the Hutt, the notorious crime lord that had systematically taken over most of the desert world. In his youth, the young Sith had heard stories about the infamous slug from his aunt and uncle. He had never seen Jabba before though. On Tatooine, the Hutts were usually the head of crime gangs and smuggling operations, things that Owen Lars had tried to keep his nephew away from. Unfortunately, the dead farmer's wish would not be fulfilled. Luke needed to see Jabba. It was a matter of urgency. The words of his uncle still burned in his mind. "Luke, stay away from a Hutt if you ever seen one," the gruff old moisture farmer had said when Luke had been no more than a boy. He didn't have a choice though. Hutts knew things. They were usually privy to information that was highly valued on the black market; things that the Empire would pay large sums of credits for if they were willing to bargain with the slug creatures. He needed information that Jabba may have had in order to track down Obi-Wan Kenobi and Senator Mcoy.

Darth Malak had sent him to Corellia six days previously, where the Rebel Alliance had wiped out all of the Imperial forces that had declared marshal law across the merchant world. By the time he had arrived, however, there had been nothing left except a crater where the thermal charges had detonated, wiping out the main garrison. The Rebels had fled shortly after their victory, for reasons that Luke could not guess. After that, the former moisture farmer set out for his old home world, Tatooine, where he had hoped to find some clue in Ben Kenobi's home, out in the Jundland wastes. There had been nothing there. He had found the old man's journal, which he had collected, along with some old Jedi trinkets but there was no way of telling where the old man had gone. In a rage, Luke had razed the house to the ground before proceeding towards the Hutt's palace.

The black clad Sith finally reached the iron double doors. Raising his hand, Luke banged on the large portal three times before folding his arms. He waited for a short moment before a small circular portion of the door, no larger than six inches in diameter, slid backwards and to the side. A small spherical shaped probe popped out of the door and studied the young man for a moment. It was archaic technology, as far as the former Jedi apprentice could tell. It looked like one of the YT-39KB probes that had been designed for recon during the Clone Wars. As far as he knew, they hadn't been effective at all and many of them had self-destructed for no apparent reason in the field. Why Jabba the Hutt, one of the richest people on the outer rim, would be using such a piece of junk was beyond the young Sith Lord's comprehension.

The droid flashed a couple of times before it pulled back into its slot and the small panel slid back into place. Luke waited a moment more before the two gargantuan doors in front of him began to open with a terrible whining sound. The sheer volume of the noise made him wince, though it was not long before they had opened enough for him to enter the compound. Unfortunately, the wailing was even worse inside. The sound waves reverberated off of the metal walls, amplifying the audio greatly. The guards that were stationed inside seemed to be having trouble as well. A Gamorrean guard had fallen to the ground and started to cry because of how sensitive his ears were. Clearly it was a young creature, for it was smaller than most of the other Gamorreans around and its battle ax seemed to be much shorter that the others. Its wails compounded the sound emitted by the door, causing Luke to grimace.

At last, the doors were fully open and Luke breathed a sigh of relief that the howling noise was over. It took a moment before the screaming alien on the ground subsided. Its shrieking emanations were slowly replaced by short hiccupping sobs. While one Gamorrean moved to check on its younger companion, two more walked towards Luke, axes at the ready. The Sith Lord to be withdrew his hand into his cloak and wrapped his fingers around the shaft of his father's lightsaber. He didn't draw it but he was ready to just in case they became hostile. One of them was sputtering something angrily at him, spewing spittle and slobber forward. Luke didn't understand a word though.

"Take me to Jabba," he ordered, waving his hand to implant the suggestion into the Gamorrean's mind. The bulking creature stopped and looked at its companion. The two shrugged and nodded. Luke smirked, pleased that his newly acquired powers worked so well. The two beastly aliens turned, gesturing for their guest to follow them.

"Okleh!" someone shouted. The aliens froze. The Force suggestion died in their minds and they spun around, furious that they had been duped. Luke looked up and saw that the palace's majordomo was approaching him. The oncoming man, a middle aged Twi'lek dressed in elegant ceremonial robes, stopped in front of Luke and held out a clawed hand towards the intruder. In his time, the former moisture farmer had encountered very few aliens and even fewer Twi'leks. There had been a few on the Star Forge, where he had trained, but this one was different from the rest. His teeth looked more like razors than typical mammalian teeth and his long finger nails had grown sharp and jagged, like the claws of a kinrath. Still, Luke didn't anticipate any problems from the man though. His new found ability to look into the minds of others made it a simple matter to tell that the alien before him was a fool. His mind was weak and therefore even the most under-trained of Dark Jedi could break him. The only reason the Gamorrean's had failed him was because they were scared of the master. Their fear was strong enough to break his mind control. This alien didn't seem to know fear: a strength and weakness in one.

The Twi'lek, Bib Fortuna, who had worked as Jabba's majordomo for several years now, began to speak to Luke in his native tongue. The former Jedi initiate didn't understand a word of it. He had never studied languages outside of Basic and he wasn't about to learn now just so he could speak with these gangsters. Malak had demonstrated the ability to draw languages out of the minds of others, whilst driving new ones into their heads at the same time. The skill would have been useful and would have allowed Luke to communicate with all of the alien races that he was not familiar with. Alas, he had not learned the technique during his training. It was one that he would have to speak to Malak about after he killed Obi-Wan.

Pushing the stray thought aside, he set his mind back to business. "Take me to Jabba," he ordered, hoping that the alien at least understood his language. Bib seemed to process the information, though he didn't act on it. He hesitated. That was a big mistake. Luke stepped forward, wrapping an invisible hand around Bib's neck. "Take me to Jabba," he repeated as his normally blue eyes melted away, replaced by those of golden amber. The majordomo's orange eyes widened and he struggled against the unseen powers that gripped him in order to nod his head in an affirmative manner. Luke released the Twi'lek, dropping him to the ground. He landed on his hands and knees, coughing violently as he tried to catch his breath.

The soon to be Sith apprentice looked down at the pitiful alien, a smirk playing across his lips. Bib looked up at the man who nearly strangled him, contempt burning in his already fiery colored eyes. He glanced at the rest of the entrance guards, wondering why they were not attacking. In truth, it was because they were terrified of whatever Luke had just done to their boss. The Gamorreans had backed away and were now standing against the walls, more than content to let the intruder pass by them.

The majordomo silently stood up and brushed off his robes. He turned to Luke and hissed something in his own language. Luke did not move or make any obvious action that he had comprehended what had been said to him. Bib sighed. He realized that the Sith was not familiar with the languages commonly spoken within Jabba's palace and made a mental note to get a translator droid for him. Turning away, the Twi'lek gestured for Luke to follow. The other guards that were in the room contemplated attacking him in order to protect the palace's second in command but they held off. The intruder seemed to control powers that they didn't and years of service to Jabba had taught them something: Fear Jedi. Although Luke wasn't a Jedi, they didn't really differentiate.

Bib led Luke through the dank palace, which had not been very well maintained. Pipes leaked. Puddles had accumulated in the middle of hallways. The walls seemed to be coated with slime or some other aqueous solution in various places. And then there was the smell. The palace wreaked. It was comparable to bantha excretion in the rain. Luke had to hold his breath as they journeyed through several corridors and halls. As they went, the sandy haired man took note of various life forms that he had never seen before. Different aliens and other creatures scurried around, performing their daily tasks or lingering about idly. A few droids also littered the palace. They seemed more inclined to do their work than their organic peers. Overall, Luke was intrigued, though he didn't lose focus. He was there for Jabba and that was all.

At last, he was brought into the heart of the palace. This "throne" room, as Bib had called it, had a completely different feeling than the rest of the estate. The Force flowed differently. The serious and desolate feeling it had radiated before was replaced by one of energy and excitement. The people inside weren't guards or soldiers or at least most of them weren't. They were gangsters and criminals that had assembled for some excitement. There were also slaves. Dozens of slaves. Luke noted that the Bith jazz musicians that were on the stage, playing for their master, were chained down to bolts on the ground that latched to their ankles. There was also an exotic looking Twi'lek dancer stood in the center of the room, performing a strip dance for the gross looking slug lord at the head of the room. She had a spiked collar wrapped around her neck, which had a chain leash connected to it. The leash was held by none other than Jabba the Hutt. In the corners, various alien crime lords were taking advantage of the various female slaves that the host had provided.

Luke turned his full attention to Jabba. The Hutt was of a moderate size, though he had grown considerably in the short time since Han Solo had encountered him in the Mos Eisley space port. If he continued to grow at such a rapid rate, he would be huge and much too big for his throne in just a few short years. To a lesser man, he would have been intimidating. To Luke, he was an overgrown slug. Extracting the information that he needed would be a simpler task than he had thought.

Bib quickly took Luke around the dance floor, careful not to divert his master's attention away from the erotic dancer that he was currently fixated on. When they were just off to the side of the throne, the majordomo gestured for the young Sith Lord to be to remain where he stood. He did as ordered and waited while his guide walked up to the palace master. The Twi'lek tapped his master gently, just beneath the neck area. Jabba howled angrily and turned to face his servant. He uttered something in Huttese, though Luke had no idea what he had said. He did note, however, that the room went very quite when the Hutt spoke. The jazz musicians quickly silenced their instruments. All chatter about the room ceased instantly. The dancing girl stopped her routine in order to listen to what her lord had to say. Even the other criminals, who did not actually work for Jabba, stopped their business in order to pay reverence to the Hutt.

Jabba continued to converse with Bib for several moments. It was clear, judging by the inflection of his guttural voice, that he was not pleased with the disruption. Still, he listened to what Bib had to say with some degree of patience. At one point, the awkwardly colored alien gestured towards Luke, causing Jabba to look over in his general direction. The creature's large gelatinous eyes widened when he saw the young man. Luke wasn't sure why but he didn't really care either. If his presence scared Jabba, then he would use it to his advantage.

Unfortunately, there was very little that Jabba the Hutt actually feared and Luke Skywalker was not one of those few things. He instructed Bib to call for a protocol droid, which the Twi'lek did quickly. While they waited for the alien to return with the translator, Luke waited patiently, folding his arms over his chest and keeping constant eye contact with the crime boss. Everyone in the room was now aware of his presence and many had focused their attention on him. It was a rare occurrence that someone was stupid enough to interrupt the Hutt without invitation and there were already excited murmurs sparking throughout the room about a rancor fight.

The young Dark Jedi frowned when he heard this. He could only assume that this meant that Jabba had a pet rancor stored somewhere and that a common form of entertainment would be to watch the beast rip unsuspecting victims apart. While he felt confident that a lightsaber through the brain would be enough to dispatch the behemoth, he did not want to tempt fate. He quickly scanned the room and sure enough, there seemed to be a trap door in the center of the room, right where the aqua skinned Twi'lek had been dancing just moments before. He would have to be careful to avoid standing on it if he wanted to avoid a showdown with one of Tatooine's deadliest creatures.

A few minutes later, Bib returned with an old, battered protocol droid that had gathered a great deal of rust over the years. Jabba shouted something at the droid and it responded quickly in Huttese. The young Hutt Lord jerked his head towards the guest. The droid turned its robotic head towards Luke and, in a very mechanical voice, it spoke. "Greetings," it said monotonously. "Step forward so that the mighty Jabba may inspect you." The former Jedi initiate did as instructed, moving to stand in front of the throne that Jabba sat on. The Twi'lek that had been dancing previously moved aside so that the young man could take her place before the crime lord. Luke was careful of where he stepped, however, and made sure that he was standing in front of the trap door that would drop him into the rancor pit. As he did this, he noticed the obvious dissatisfaction in the Hutt's eyes, though he made no move to correct this. If Jabba was disappointed, he'd be disappointed. The young Sith Lord wouldn't risk his life just to entertain an overgrown amphibious criminal. "Who are you?" the droid asked him.

"My name is Luke Skywalker," he answered the droid. "I want to make a bargain with Jabba."

The large Hutt overlord began to chuckle at this and spouted something else that Luke didn't understand. The droid quickly spoke again, translating its master's words. "What sort of bargain?" it asked.

"I need information that I believe you have," Luke responded.

"What sort of information?" Jabba asked via the translator droid.

"A Jedi Master named Obi-Wan Kenobi is now working with the Rebel Alliance. He was on Corellia just a few days ago. I need to know where he is now."

This caused a roaring laughter throughout the room. All of the gangsters and criminals present thought that the question was hilarious, given the danger of withholding information on the Rebel Alliance from the Galactic Empire. If Jabba was caught selling such information to some kid who was barely out of his teenaged years, Darth Vader would come down on Tatooine with the entire wrath of Coruscant behind him. The Hutt had to admit that this Skywalker kid had guts. He instantly liked that about him. He sputtered a compliment towards the young man, accompanied by a blatant refusal to help, which the droid translated. Unexpectedly, Luke smirked at this. Jabba hadn't expected such an unaffected reaction. In fact, the sandy haired man didn't seem in the least bit taken aback by his failure.

"You will be compensated for your troubles," he offered the Hutt in a last ditch effort to maintain some level of peaceful negotiations.

Jabba scoffed. He gestured around the room as he began to yammer on about something. The droid quickly translated. "How can you compensate me, boy? Look around. I have accumulated all of this wealth and power on my own. A sorry child like you has nothing to offer someone so great as myself."

"You're wrong," Luke responded his arrogance displeasing the Hutt.

"What then?" the Jabba challenged.

"Han Solo." The air of the room changed very quickly upon the utterance of the space pirate's name. Jabba became serious and Bib Fortuna wrinkled his brow, unsure if he could believe what the young man was saying. Now that Luke had the full room's serious attention, he had the Hutt right where he wanted him. "Ready to deal?" he asked as a cocky grin split over his features.

The war had been going exceptionally well for the Rebel Alliance since the siege on Vjun. So far, they had liberated eight major Imperial worlds and more and more men, women, and genderless sentients were flocking to their cause. They were now more than two million strong, with that number increasing by the day. Their forces now occupied Vjun, Kashyyyk, Nar Shaddaa, and Raxus Prime, along with several smaller moons and rim worlds. At this rate, they'd be able to break through the iron curtain that surrounded the core worlds and liberate Coruscant within a matter of months. If all went well, the war would be over soon and the Republic would be restored. Talk of drafting a new constitution had already arisen and there were many political scholars and analysts who excitedly poured over old datapads and holobooks, trying to figure out the best way to ensure that no emperor ever rose to power again. Democracy would be solidified this time.

Carth Onasi didn't share the Rebels' excitement about restoring the Republic. Despite his involvement in the war, he had never really felt as connected with it as he had the Mandalorian Wars and Revan's Sith wars. He wasn't fighting to protect the ones he loved this time. There was no revenge at the end of it either. Saul Karath, his betrayer, had probably died more than four thousand years ago. According to Imperial records, the Republic had crushed what had remained of Revan's Sith Empire once its leaders had vanished over Coruscant. Saul Karath had probably been tried as a war criminal and executed for his crimes once the war had ended. This conflict was empty to him. He wasn't even sure why he fought on sometimes. The pilot had told himself that it was because he still had a chance that he would come face to face with Darth Malak and then, maybe, he could still have some sort of revenge for the death of his beloved Morgana and his son, Dustil.

Princess Leia Organa, who had probably taken the most time to get to know the former Republic soldier, had seen the darkness within his heart. Unlike Bastila, however, who could sense it from afar with the Force, the Alderaanian princess saw it for what it was and was curious to learn more. Carth had never opened up to her about his past. He didn't really talk about it. He had mentioned his wife at one point but that had been the end of it. Based on the way he had said her name though, she knew that their relationship had not ended well. He had spoken with a mixture of rage and sorrow when he had talked about her, leading Leia to accurately deduce that she had died before her time. With that in mind, the princess pitied him. Her master, on the other hand, chastised him.

Carth was not a Jedi. Despite a degree of Force sensitivity, he had never learned to control what would have been a basic control of the Force at best. He had never cared to and after the Jedi had abandoned the Republic during the Mandalorian Wars, he had cared even less. Therefore, when Bastila lectured him on how his thoughts would lead to the dark side, he did not react well. The two had started to quarrel often, since Revan had been captured on Vjun. This was primarily due to Carth's political view of the situation, which clashed violently with Bastila's philosophical views.

Yoda, Master Kenobi, Bastila Shan, Senator Leia Organa, and Commander Carth Onasi had all gathered in Princess Leia's quarters to discuss the fate of Darth Revan, who sat in his cell, several floors beneath them. The four Jedi and one soldier all sat around the well furnished room, each with grim expressions about them. Yoda and Obi-Wan sat comfortably on Leia's maroon colored sofa, while Carth looked out into space from the window at the back end of the room. Leia stood by the wall, near Carth, while Bastila sat in a comfortable lounge chair, opposite the sofa. The mood was a serious one. No one seemed pleased by the fact that they had managed to capture one of the most dangerous men in the galaxy. The fact that they didn't know what to do with him outweighed any celebratory feelings that they had once felt.

"Ravan has been fixed with a Force inhibitor," Bastila was telling them. "but he has displayed control over his powers that he shouldn't be able to. For all we know, the inhibitor may not have done anything to him. He could still be at full power."

"Which means he's a threat," Carth stated darkly as he watched the stars zip by. "We should execute him immediately and spare ourselves an even longer war."

"Take a life, you suggest, Commander?" Yoda asked. "Not such an easy thing outside of battle, it is."

"I don't care," the soldier replied angrily as he turned to face the room. "I'll do it myself. You didn't see what kind of damage Revan did while he was running loose through the Republic. You didn't see how many civilians lost their lives because of him. He needs to be punished."

"It's not our job to punish the wicked," Obi-Wan reminded him.

"It is my job to protect people though," he shot back.

"He's defenseless at this point," the white haired Jedi stated, remembering another defenseless Sith Lord that had been cut down by his own apprentice so many years ago. "It is not the Jedi way to kill an unarmed opponent."

"Bastila just told us that he's not defenseless though," Leia pointed out. "If he still has his powers, he's capable of protecting himself."

"And ripping this entire damn ship apart," Carth added.

"Consider the Force bond between Revan and Bastila, we must," Yoda pointed out. "Damage her mind, killing Revan may."

Carth and Leia didn't answer this. They simply remained silent while the three Jedi that opposed killing their prisoner continued. "I didn't save Revan's life just so that we could kill him," the youngest Jedi said, her Talravin accent thicker than usual, which was probably due to the surging emotions she was trying to control. "And he can lead us to the Sith. If we can wipe out his forces and then settle the war with the Empire, we may be able to avoid a three sided conflict."

"We've tried interrogating him already," the soldier snapped. "He's non-responsive. How long will you play his games before you realize that he's wasting your time?"

"We can make a deal with him," she suggested.

"What kind of deal?" Leia interjected. The princess had fire in her eyes as she stormed up to her master, anger quite apparent in her stance and tone. "We have to look beyond Revan, Bastila. We can't launch a full scale invasion of Coruscant if we're worried about him stabbing us in the back half way through. And what do we have to offer him? His freedom? We can't turn a Sith Lord loose on the galaxy!"

"Mind your attitude, Leia," her master sneered.

"No," she snapped back. "Don't talk to me like I'm a child either, Bastila. As far as I can tell, you're only looking at this from a Jedi perspective. We need to worry about more than that though."

"We can offer Revan his life," the Jedi Knight suggested. "He will remain our prisoner but he won't be executed."

"_I'd rather die than waste away in a jail cell for the rest of my life, my dear,"_ Revan told her icily through the Force bond that had developed when she had healed him. Bastila shivered. The young Jedi was not used to having her mind violated in such a rough manner. It disturbed her how easily the Dark Lord, who was several floors below her, could manipulate the link that had joined them together. She, who had had another Force bond to work with for some time, still could not control it with such skill. How had he learned so quickly? If Revan could glance into her mind without effort, things were bad. If she couldn't reciprocate, it was even worse. Frowning, Bastila raised her mental shielding in order to shut him out. This move did not go unnoticed by her apprentice.

Another thing that had bothered Bastila for some time was Leia's control over the Force bond that the two shared. Like Revan, Leia had learned how to use it quite quickly. The Alderaanian princess had skills that her master did not. Though she loathed to admit it, Bastila was jealous. Both Luke, who was still missing, and Leia had a control over the Force that didn't seem possible for adults their age. So when Leia sensed the presence of another active individual in Bastila's mind, she knew instantly that Revan was communicating with her.

"And what's his opinion of that suggestion?" the princess asked tersely, placing her hands on her hips.

Bastila frowned and folded her arms over her chest. She walked away from her student and back to stand next to the two masters, hoping for some sort of support. Master Yoda was the one who gave it to her. "Admit it, Revan will not, but scared he is," Yoda stated. "Into a corner, he has been driven." The alien placed both of his hands and his chin on the head of a small wooden cane that he had whittled for himself during his exile on Dagobah. "An opportunity, this is."

"He's been captured before," Carth stated dismissively. "During the Mandalorian Wars, he was captured on Serroco. He broke out and wiped out the entire garrison on his own. And that's exactly what he'll do here if we don't act quickly."

"Revan may still be redeemed," Obi-Wan stated. "No one is beyond redemption in the Force."

"How long will we wait for that?" Leia asked the older man. "Should we just stop our war effort because Vader might suddenly decide that he doesn't want to be a Dark Jedi? Some people aren't worth saving. The cost is too damn high! Why should Revan or Vader's lives be put ahead of the billions that they'll kill if they're left alone?"

"Because of the trillions that they could save!" Bastila shouted at her student. "If we can turn Revan back to the light, he could be an invaluable weapon against the Empire!"

Before the words even finished leaving Bastila's mouth, a maniacal laugh exploded in her mind, causing her to wince painfully. _"You truly are adorable, Bastila," _Revan said with a chuckle. With a groan, Bastila raised her mental barriers even further, though she was beginning to doubt that it would do much good to keep the Sith Lord out. He had broken through all of her defenses so far and she was starting to get a headache from it.

Carth was about to say something else but a loud bell went off, signaling that the intercom was about to go off. A moment later, the voice of Admiral Forn sounded throughout the entire ship. "This is Admiral Forn speaking. All hands to battle positions. There is a small fleet just ahead of us. They are not using registered Imperial IDs and are not using any Rebel access codes. Make your way to battle stations and stand by."

Everyone in the room glanced at each other. The four Jedi began to reach out with their minds, fearing the worst. While they did this, Carth rushed towards the viewport window, glancing outside so that he could see something in the voids of hyperspace. The blue corridors that surrounded the Rebel warship dispersed, replaced by the starry backdrop of space. "Hell," Carth muttered as he saw something out the window.

"What is it?" Leia asked as she moved to stand beside him, placing a hand on his right shoulder, though she had already sensed what he was about to tell her.

"Sith Interdictor ships," he reported, seeing at least three ships approaching, with snub fighters forming a defensive formation around them.

"Do you think they know that we have Revan?" Leia asked him. Her question was answered for her a moment later. A large aura of dark side energy began to radiate from the lower levels of the Rebel warship. Revan had bolstered his aura, using it as a beacon for any and all approaching Sith forces. "Damn it," she swore.

"They do now," Obi-Wan answered as he stood to his feet. "I'll make my way to the lower levels and guard him," he stated as he pulled his lightsaber from within the folds of his robes.

"Hit the deck!" Carth screamed suddenly as he turned away from the window as dove away from the wall.

Suddenly, the entire ship shook violently and everyone was thrown from their feet. Yoda went rolling across the ground but dug his claw like nails into the carpet, balancing himself. Everyone glanced around. It didn't feel like they had been hit too hard. A blue, gel-like glow surrounded the ship for a moment, the only part of which could be seen through the viewport windows. "Deflector shields are still up," Bastila noted.

The young Jedi Knight reached out with her senses again, scanning the Sith fleet that was attacking them. Her worst fears were confirmed as her minds swept across the multitude of ships and fighters. "Malak," she whispered softly to the others.

Down in the holding cells, far beneath the main floor of the Rebel warship, Darth Revan glanced up, sensing the arrival of his apprentice as well. "Malak?" he asked aloud as he reached out with the Force, trying to locate exactly where his old friend was positioned. The other Dark Lord clearly was not aboard the same ship but the approaching Sith fleet was a large one, with more than enough power to rip apart the Rebel warship that he was being held prisoner on. A smirk broke across his pale features. It was time to make his escape. The Lord of the Sith lifted his sleeve, exposing the Force inhibitor that was locked to his bicep. By the will of the Force, the Rebels had fixed him with a faulty inhibitor, granting him full access to all of his powers. A small jolt of Force lightning from his fingertip shorted out the device completely, causing it to unlock and fall to the ground. Knowing that the Force had still been with him had been a comfort over the last couple of days, as he had waited for the opportune moment to break out of his cell. It had stretched his patience and now he was thankful that he had waited. With his own men behind him, he would be able to take prisoners and individually take his revenge on all the bastards aboard this ship that had humiliated him.

The Lord of the Sith got off of the small bench like bed that he had been sitting on for the last several days and approached the ray shield that kept him in his cell. He lifted his hand, extending an open palm towards the barrier and began to concentrate on the active currents that came together to form the shield. A small grunt, accompanied by a blast of Force energy, disrupted the current long enough for him to step forward, out of the cell. Just as he exited, the shield emitters corrected themselves, reactivating behind him. The two guards that were stationed outside had no idea what had happened before Revan laid them both out with two more Force blasts.

Quickly, he began to search the unconscious form of one of the downed officers. As he lifted a blaster rifle, a small sidearm, and a virbodagger off of one of them, he considered the option of killing them. He disregarded this notion, however, for the sake of time. Malak was a brutal bastard on the battle field and it wouldn't be long before his old friend fired upon this vessel, bringing it down around his master's ears. Ruefully, he started towards the hyperlift that would take him to the bridge. If he could contact Malak, maybe he could stop the more aggressive Sith Lord from laying waste to the Rebels long enough to make an escape. If not, the escape pods would make a passable alternative.

"Admiral, I've sent word to the Rebels on the planet's surface. They're sending reinforcements," the communications officer aboard the besieged Rebel warship called out.

"How long before they're here?" Admiral Forn inquired as he moved to stand beside his bridge officer.

"At least another twenty minutes," he responded.

"We need to buy more time!" Forn muttered, running a hand through his gray hair as he tried to consider his options. He heard the sound of the doors sliding open, though he paid little heed. He had no time to worry about someone else coming to bother him. "What's our status? How are the shields?"

"Not strong enough," the man who had just entered answered for him.

Forn turned around. A sharp gasp escaped him as he realized that Darth Revan was standing beside him, blaster pistol pointed at the old admiral's heart. The military officer's hazel colored eyes hardened but Revan shook his head, indicating that any attempt at an attack would be suicidal.

"Open a communications channel and offer them a surrender. That ought to get them to stop shooting long enough for me to make contact with my apprentice," the Dark Lord said as he moved to stand beside Forn.

"And why would we let you contact your apprentice?" the older man asked incredulously.

Revan fixed him with a weary glare. He would have gone through the process of belittling the Clone War vet but he didn't have the time. The ship was struck violently once again and it was difficult for anyone to keep sure footing. With a sigh, he decided to simply answer the question. "Other than the fact that I was shot, I have no real qualms with your Alliance. In fact, we share a common enemy. Allow me to contact Malak and return to my people and we will let you go."

"Absolutely not!" Forn shouted back. He turned back to his men. "Prepare primary batteries for an offensive assault. We'll give them hell before we let them take us!"

"Sir, primary batteries are down sixty-three percent. It'll take time to recharge them."

Revan smirked. "You don't seem to have very many alternatives, Admiral." He holstered his sidearm and folded his arms over his chest. He kept a confident expression on his face though he knew he had something to be concerned about. The Jedi had sensed his escape and one was on their way towards the bridge now. He couldn't afford to be drawn into a conflict with a Force user at the moment. It would take more time than he could afford to waste. He needed to convince Forn to hail Malak quickly. "Are the lives of your men truly worth my capture? I have never instigated an attack on the Rebel Alliance! I was a prisoner of the Galactic Empire and, when you invaded their fortress, my captors simply changed, when I should have been set free. And now I ask you, Admiral, why?"

"You're a murderer!" the man snapped at him indignantly.

"Says who? A young Jedi chit and a bitter pilot? My people and theirs were engaged in a war. You've heard their charges against my empire but what of our charges against them? The Republic had become a bastion of sin and corruption and we wanted to restore it to what it had once stood for. The Sith Empire can still accomplish this and the Rebel Alliance can remold the galaxy as it sees fit once we have. There is no need for us to be enemies. Look to the Mandalorian way. Seek out the enemy of your enemy and you shall find a friend."

Forn looked from Revan, back to the monitors in front of him. The Sith would overwhelm the Rebel forces soon if he didn't act and reinforcements from Naboo wouldn't arrive in time to stop this Darth Malak from blasting them out of space. He quickly weighed his options. He could take his chances waiting for reinforcements from the planet's surface, which would almost certainly end in the death of every man and woman aboard or he could put his faith in the hands of a man who, as Revan had put it, he really knew nothing about. He closed his eyes, uttering a silent prayer that this would not end with the death of his men.

"Open the comm. line. We will let Darth Revan negotiate."

The man who was stationed at the comm. post looked at the pale man that stood beside his admiral. He neither trusted nor believed Revan but he had no choice but to accept his orders. A mutiny in the midst of battle merited execution. If he were to revolt, he would be lined up against a wall and shot. Begrudgingly, he looked down at his keyboard and typed in the codes that would unscramble their communications. "Putting it on the view screen," he announced.

A blurry white image appeared on the screen at the front of the bridge. Revan and Forn waited patiently for Malak to accept the signal. When he did, the blank screen would be replaced by whomever Malak forced to negotiate. As expected, this happened exactly thirty seconds after the invite had been sent. It was a policy that he, Revan, had adopted during the wars. Don't answer immediately. It made your opponent feel that you wanted to be diplomatic, rather than aggressive. Don't be too slow, otherwise they might panic and fire on you in the brief window of time that your guard is down. The white screen faded, replaced by the inside of the _Malevolence, _Malak's personal flagship.

"This is the _Malevolence, _fleet leader of the Sith. Are you ready to surrender?" A pasty skinned Twi'lek with violet skin asked. Revan recognized the man and smirked.

"Get Malak, Kidan, you moron," the Dark Lord snapped at the screen.

The Twi'lek's eyes widened as he saw Revan standing amidst the Rebels. "Lord… Lord Revan?" he stuttered.

"What?" Malak's mechanical voice thundered from off screen. Revan chuckled to himself. Malak threw Kidan out of the way, taking a seat in front of the comm. camera. Shock was very apparent on the remaining half of the Sith Lord's face. "Revan?" he uttered as his eyes widened.

"Stop firing on us, Malak," Revan snarled viciously. "Now!"

"Commander," the bald Sith Lord shouted as he turned away from the monitor that was broadcasting his image. "Send word to the entire fleet. Cease fire immediately."

"That's better," Revan stated as he looked about. "The Rebels want the Empire dead, just as we do, Malak. Stand down. We will leave them be. Send a shuttle to pick me up and let's get the hell out of here."

"You want us to call off the attack?" he asked.

"Yes. They're not worth destroying. Revan out," he sneered with a contemptuous glance at Forn. On the signal, the Rebel controlling the comm. channel cut the link, causing the screen to go dead. With that, the Dark Lord turned to the Rebel admiral. "Thank you for your assistance, Admiral."

"Should I expect you to keep your word?" Forn asked him, a pensive feeling coming over him.

"I will," he responded.

Aboard the _Malevolence, _Malak stepped away from the monitor in front of him, folding his arms as he did so. He unfolded them and refolded them several times. All of the officers aboard the bridge, including the newly promoted Captain Karath. All of them were uncertain as to what they should do and looked to the Dark Lord for answers. He had technically been instated as the Sith Emperor after Revan's supposed death. That made things problematic. He had been given power. He had control. That wasn't something that a man was likely to give up. From his position near the front of the bridge, Saul Karath recognized the conflict within his superior. It was one that he, himself, had faced.

The second Sith Emperor was torn between his power and his loyalty. Like any man who had been handed the keys to his very own kingdom, Malak did not want to hand them back because the true leader had returned. On the other hand, Revan was his friend; his brother. Betraying the Lord of Revenge was not something that he had considered and it was not something that the Lord of Malice was keen on doing. He shifted uncomfortably under the harsh gaze of his men. The Rebel ship was sitting there, waiting for something to happen. The shields had been lowered so that a Sith shuttle could come aboard and pick up the true emperor. They were defenseless. All Malak would have to do would be to order the _Malevolence _to fire on the Rebels and he would be the true emperor.

Captain Karath knew what the decision would be. He watched his lord and master for several minutes, observing the indecision that was clear on his face. Still, the desire for power was one that was not easily ignored. Therefore, when Malak turned and said, "Fire on that ship. Wipe them from the face of the galaxy," Saul was not in the least bit surprised.


	17. Echoes

**The Darkest Lord**

**Chapter XVII: Echoes**

A large metal canister rocketed through the air at high velocity. The front end glowed a fiery white color as it soared through the atmosphere of the planet Naboo. With a loud shrieking sound, it broke into the planet's main sphere. The canister sliced through the air as it descended downward. At last, it slammed into the beach of a small island, embedding itself in the beach's sand. The man inside, or what was left of him anyway, groaned loudly as he massaged a large welt on the back of his head. He didn't really feel the pain though. He was aware of it but the rolling waves of a throbbing migraine that normally would have plagued him after such a rough escape were distant. To be honest, he didn't feel much of anything.

It was safe to say that in the last hour alone, he had gone from a whole being, a murderous, somewhat psychotic being, to a shell of his former self. His body was on autopilot for the moment. Whatever actions he took were merely for his survival. Safely getting into an escape pod and jettisoning it before the rebel warship that he had been prisoner aboard had exploded had been accomplished through mere instinct. None of the man's tactical genius had guided him. It was isolated beneath layers of mental blockers; blockers that were created by intense emotions that he hadn't felt in a very long time. Thus, his conscious state felt nothing. He felt absolutely nothing as he used his legs to kick out the seal of his escape pod, freeing him from his prison.

Darth Revan slipped out of the damaged space vessel and looked around. He was alone. None of the others had landed remotely near him. He hadn't expected them to either. His escape pod had been struck by blaster fire as it had plummeted towards the planet's surface. The main thrusters had been damaged and his pod had gone spinning out of control. It was likely that he had landed miles away from any of the other survivors… if there were any. That was a disparaging thought. Or was it? The Rebels had been his captors. He had made his escape at long last. Finally, there was no one who was holding him against his will in some uncomfortable jail cell. It had been weeks since his initial capture by Darth Vader. Freedom should have tasted ever so sweet.

Ironically, the Dark Jedi no longer cared whether he was free or not. His dull yellow eyes flickered up towards the bright blue sky of Naboo. He knew that his betrayer was still in orbit. Malak's aura was strong. It permeated across the glistening waves that crashed on the shore and was carried to the mainland, far from Revan's current position. A bitter taste formed in his mouth and bile began to rise in his throat. He growled angrily, roaring his frustration into the air. He had lost everything. He had risen to power and had attained so much in just a few short years. Now it was gone; stolen from him by the man he had considered to be his best friend, his brother even. Revan clenched his fist and roared angrily, pounding it down into the ground as he fell to his hands and knees.. Loose sand went blustering around him from the force of the blow.

Sighing very deeply, he stood up. He was no longer the Dark Lord. He was a deposed Dark Lord. How pitiful. It was no different than being a politician who had been voted out of office. To be replaced was a terrible feeling. His muscles tensed visibly as he stood up. His body trembled with rage. He was angry. Angrier than he could ever remember being. He had known loss before but this was beyond anything he had faced in the past. Losing the Jedi, the Republic, his time; none of these things had affected him as deeply as Malak's betrayal affected him. His brother's blade had pierced his back and the stinging sensation radiated throughout his entire being.

"You bastard!" Revan growled into the air. The endless blue skies above him were clear. Only the clouds above obscured Naboo's magnificent cerulean sky from view. Still, the deposed Lord of the Sith could see the _Malevolence_. The dark side energy aboard the Interdictor dreadnaught drew Revan's mind's eye to it like a beacon. Hundreds of tiny little red auras radiated in a large cluster above him. Those belonged to the Dark Jedi serving aboard the ship. The biggest aura amidst the group belonged to Malak. It was a terrible sight to behold. The traitor's Force signature had gone beyond the typical deep, blood red color that Revan had seen in so many men before. Malak's now resembled to boiling oceans of fire that raged in the very depths of Hell.

Despite the pure, unadulterated darkness that the former Jedi General was putting out, into the air, Revan could still smell the fear. Even from such a great distance, he could see that his apprentice was terrified. The Lord of Malice had made a grave mistake. He had fired on the Rebel warship, which had jettisoned a number of escape pods shortly thereafter. Malak knew Revan. He knew that his master would have been capable of reaching the hangar and making his escape. Malak needed to finish Revan off quickly. Otherwise, the Lord of Revenge would show the entire Sith Empire just how exactly he had earned his title.

"You had better fear me, Malak," he seethed quietly. "Once I get off this rock, I'm coming for you."

The former Jedi Knight shifted his glance from the clear portion of the sky, towards the blaring sun. Before he went after his betrayer, he needed to find a way of making good on his promise to get off of the planet. Judging by the heat, it was summer on Naboo and he would have to deal with the scorching temperature in addition to finding civilization. Sweat was already building up on his brow. Revan quickly shed the outer robe that he wore, dropping it into the sand as he made his way back over to his escape pod.

The blaster pistol he had stolen from his guard back in space was still with him, thankfully, and he did not plan on going far without it. It took him a moment to find it inside of the downed craft that had carried him to safety. He quickly located it beneath his seat and pulled it out, inspecting it for damage. Once it met his approval, He attached it to his belt and he moved on. There didn't appear to be any reason to carry it at the ready at the moment. The island he was on seemed to be deserted. His senses didn't pick up any other life signs, at least not beyond the typical flora and fauna one would expect on Naboo shores. Also, he didn't sense anything putting out any power into the atmosphere, meaning that there probably weren't any power generators or plants in the nearby vicinity. That was good because it gave Malak no reason to check up on the island. On the other hand, it made finding people more difficult.

There was something however. It was a tiny little flicker of life in the Force that was barely even noticeable. A lesser Force wielder wouldn't have noticed it but Revan was able to pick up the faint signs of energy that were whispering into the air around him. Whatever was causing the disturbance that he was feeling wasn't very large and it certainly wasn't a living person. Therefore, it had to have been an object with a relatively small amount of Force energy imbued within it. It was enough to catch the deposed Dark Lord's attention though, so he started following the feeling, which led him inland, away from the shore.

The island was a beautiful one. It was abundant with various plants, which seemed to flourish from the sun's glaring rays. They also seemed to secrete some sweet smelling pollen or spores into the air. The Dark Lord curiously studied the large bulb-like things that floated from the flowering buds of the plants, into the air. He was surrounded by them. The scent, vaguely similar to a fruit grown on Felucia, calmed him. His rage subsided somewhat as he inhaled the air. What was strange was that he was aware that he was being calmed. It didn't feel like the usual burst of rage, followed by a bitter tapering off period. The Dark Lord even mentally considered that the plants were secreting a drug into the air. If they were, he didn't mind. Being calm gave him focus. It allowed him to pick out the Force signature he was tracing more easily.

It didn't take him long. He followed the small it to what appeared to be an enormous lake in the middle of the island. He stood atop a grassy hill, looking down over the water's surface. The day was coming to a close. The sun was already beginning to sink through the western skies, causing the lake to glisten. The sight was a beautiful one. Even Revan, who had forsaken beauty years ago, was awed by the sight. It made him think.

"My people call what they have created beauty," he muttered, his thoughts turning back to the vast sweeping skyscrapers that covered the surface of Courscant and the billions and billions of technological marvels that had been created since he had been born, more than four thousand years in the past. "The universe is the only true creator of beauty."

At the shore of the lake, he could see a decaying old building, rusty red in color, though it seemed to be covered by some mossy plant, giving it a green and yellow touch in places. Judging by the architecture, it had been a fabulous structure at one point. Now it was a wreck. Even with almost a kilometer separating Revan and the building, he could see shattered windows and corroding rock. The support beams that held the upper levels aloft were unstable. Chunks had fallen out of them and were laying in pieces on the tiled ground below. It was likely that the place had been abandoned for many years now, at least by the majority of civilization.

"It's ironic," he continued to himself. "We pride ourselves for our power and glory, yet nature and the Force have the power to ruin what we erect if we turn our backs for even a moment." He looked around and sighed. "Typical. I'm alone for an hour and I'm already talking to myself." He shook hiss head and took off, sprinting with speed that no Force-blind could have reached.

As he reached the grand structure, he deduced that it had been a home of some sort in the past. As he placed a hand on one of the support pillars, he wondered what had driven the family that had lived here away. It was obvious that it had been a house of wealth. Why would a very rich family leave a very ornate estate that seemed to have no exterior damage, other than that would have occurred naturally without routine maintenance? A number of possibilities cycled through his head as he examined the two double doors before him. Each scenario was unlikely. He shrugged it off as he pushed through the giant wooden door before him. It wasn't locked or even closed properly. The scavengers would have probably picked the estate of all its valuables years ago probably hadn't been closed with closing the door behind them.

Whatever it was that he was now searching for was probably part of a collection that had long since been ransacked. The fact that it remained in the building was a miracle unto itself. It probably didn't have the appearance of something of value. That's the only reason that a thief would leave something behind. This thought served only to pique his curiosity even further. What sort of Force imbued trinket had the family that had once lived hear possessed? The better question was why would they have had it in their possession? He was close to it now so it wouldn't be long before he had at least some sort of answer.

The inside was dark. No lights flickered above. The only illumination available was what the sun provided. The first few meters of the grand entrance hall were well lit, though darkness became steadily stronger in the distance. Again, he couldn't ignore the irony in that. He didn't sense anything lurking in the darkness but that was one of the things that had attracted him to it. The darkness provided cover. Things could use it to mask their presence, make themselves invisible until the time to strike was at hand. It was a powerful ally but it wasn't a loyal one. Therefore, he never trusted it.

The deposed Sith Lord pulled his stolen pistol from the holster, holding it in a ready position as he crept forward, into the estate. The entire place was covered in a thick coat of dust. Having long since been abandoned, nature had had its way with the ancient halls. Cobwebs decorated everything, from the ornate staircase that spiraled upwards into the upper levels of the building. An eerie creaking sound echoed through the halls, lingering in his ear. He stopped to listen carefully. A normal person would have passed it off as the wind. Revan wasn't a normal person. He was a paranoid man. And paranoia had kept him alive for many years now so he wasn't about to start doubting it now.

Following the sound, he kept his weapon raised. Whatever was making the noise wasn't in the same room that he was in but it was close. So was the signal he was tracking.

What bothered Revan was that he could sense something that he hadn't felt before. Something had appeared, for lack of a better word, as he had entered the building. It wasn't a person or a droid or an object but he was certain that there was something in the manor with him. Judging by the way it had eerily appeared upon his arrival, it appeared to be safe to assume that it knew he was there too. What he didn't know was whether or not it was friendly.

The creaking got louder as he stepped into a room off to the side of the main pathway that seemed to wind through the house. The sun shone through the crumbling wall of this room, illuminating it. The windows had been shattered in this room as well, allowing a clear view of the beautiful lake outside. It was a breathtaking sight and even Revan, the Dark Lord of the Sith, had to admit that he was moved by its beauty. Someone else wasn't though. He glanced away from the lake, towards the corner in the side of the room.

A small section of the room was not lit by the sun's rays. No. This portion was shadowy and dark, maintaining the same grim aura as the rest of the house. A basic wood fire danced in the grate, casting shadows along the gloomy walls. In the center of the dimness, there was a great rocking chair, which swung back and forth, to and fro. Each time it reeled back, the chair gave off a whiny creaking sound. Someone whose back was currently turned to Revan was seated in the chair. A thin hand, dressed in black cloth, stretched away from the chair, towards a sturdy wooden crib, where a baby would sleep.

"Hello." Revan said as he approached the chair slowly.

"Hello Revan," the person in the chair, a woman, responded as the rocking suddenly stopped.

The woman knew his name. The only people who could have known who he was were Sith and Rebels and he didn't trust either of those two groups at the moment. He took long strides toward the chair, moving to stand beside it. He raised the blaster and set the barrel directly beside the woman's head. She didn't even blink. The move didn't seem to phase her in the least.

"How do you know my name?" he asked as he cocked the blaster.

This seemed to give the woman some sense of grim amusement. She chuckled sadly and shook her head before looking up at him. Revan frowned instantly. She was gorgeous. Curly brown locks adorned her head and fell down past her shoulders, cuddling against her face. She looked to be in her late twenties but her eyes were far older. When Revan looked into them, he saw a woman who had aged considerably over a very short period of time; something he himself could appreciate. His reaction brought a small smirk to her lips though it didn't stay long. She sighed deeply and pushed a lock of curly brown hair out of her sorrowful face.

"A Force ghost?" he asked as he holstered his weapon again, realizing that it would do him absolutely no good against the likes of her.

"Yes," she stated as she stood up, her rumpled black dressed falling around her, and moved to stand beside the crib that was positioned next to the old rocking chair.

"It's been some time since I've dealt with your kind," he conceded to her. "But if I recall correctly, you're stranded in this world because of something that you are connected to."

"You're a typical Jedi," she chuckled as she reached into the cradle and adjusted the sheets inside. Revan opened his mouth to correct her but she cut him off before the words reached his tongue. "And don't tell me that you're not. I know that already. You still sound like one." He remained silent, unsure of how to respond. She took the liberty of breaking the ice. "My name is Padmé," she told him. "I used to live here, on this island."

"And how'd you die?" he asked her.

"My husband killed me," she responded ruefully.

"I'm sorry," he said with a shrug, remembering how his father had almost murdered his mother when he had been a young boy.

"That's part of the reason I brought you here, Revan. I need you to help me."

"Padmé," he began with a chuckled. "I am not a marriage councilor, especially for a woman who's already dead. If that's all you wanted, I'll leave now."

"No," she snapped. "My family is broken. My husband fell to the dark side and now my son is traveling down the same path."

"Those who can't control their powers are often consumed by it."

"It's your fault that my Luke is doing this to himself now," she snarled angrily. "He could have ended this war. He could have stopped the Emperor and saved his father but you and your people ruined that. When Malak found him, he corrupted him!"

"Then I'll set him free once I kill Malak and the entire damn Sith Empire," he responded coldly. "If that includes your son, I'm sorry."

"Don't you ever get tired of being a cold bastard, Revan?" He shrugged in response. "I have watched you since you came into this dimension. You're not happy with what you've become. You can turn back." Padmé stopped. "Never mind. That's not what I'm here for."

"Then what do you want?"

Padmé turned away from him and walked into the light, progressing towards the window that glanced out over the lake. "My husband and I were married on that lake," she told him as she looked over its shining surface. "Before he turned, we lived here for a few weeks, before the end of the Clone Wars. He gave me a gift that I now pass onto you, Darth Revan."

"What sort of gift?" he asked curiously as he followed her into the light.

"It's on the mantle, just over the fire."

Revan turned around. She was correct. Just over the fire, a wooden mantle had been built. A few decorations and knick-knacks adorned its surface but there was also a small wooden box, maybe a foot long in length, sitting in the very center. The Lord of Revenge walked over to it and picked it up. It wasn't heavy. The majority of the weight was coming from the box itself, not the contents. Curiously, he flipped the latch open and lifted the lid. He smiled at what he saw inside.

"It's beautiful," he told Padmé as he gazed at the spectacle in his hands.

"He said that it was the best one he had ever built. It took him months to make it perfect."

"He was a master craftsman," the deposed Sith Lord mumbled as he ran a gloved hand over the shell of an almost artistically designed lightsaber. "But you weren't a Jedi. Why-,"

"It was to be our baby's," she answered. "He knew that the Jedi might find out about our relationship and separate us. He wanted to make sure that the child had something to remember him by." Revan nodded his understanding. "Revan, I give this gift to you, knowing full well who you are. You're a murderer. You've ended billions of lives. Still, I trust that you'll use my Anakin's lightsaber to do what is right."

Revan dropped the box onto the ground and began to laugh. "You really think so, huh?" he asked her, his voice full of mirth as he depressed the switch to activate the blade. A blade of beautiful cerulean energy poured forth from the shell of the weapon, extending to approximately one yard before it stopped with a pointed tip. He twirled it experimentally, testing the weight and balance. It was perfect. "I appreciate this, Padmé, I really do but don't expect me to use it for the greater good. I don't care about that shit anymore. My only concern is finding Darth Malak and tearing his still beating heart out of his chest."

"You say that now," the Force apparition said as she placed a hand on his arm and looked him directly in his amber colored eyes. "But the Force has plans for you, Darth Revan. You cannot escape its will."

"We'll see," he responded.

"We will indeed," she countered with a confident flare as a smirk creased over her ashen lips.

The sound of an engine revving violently exploded through the hilly slopes of Naboo as two swoop bikes, each emblazoned with the Royal Crest of Naboo on the forward fins, vaulted over a small group of Rebels being pursued by Dark Jedi and Sith soldiers. The Rebels, led by Bastila Shan, stopped in their tracks. Many of them swore loudly, believing that the bikes were backup for the Sith forces. Princess Leia and Bastila Shan, each brandishing their lightsabers to make a last stand, nodded at one another. It wasn't until the bikes landed in front of the Sith chasers and opened fire that the Rebels realized that the backup forces were theirs, not their enemy's. Princess Leia, seeing the Naboo crest, sighed deeply. King Brehen had sent aid after all. The crimson blade of her stolen lightsaber retracted into the hilt and she smiled at her master.

The government issued bikes were armed with repeating blaster cannons, two each. These particular swoops had one on each fin that extended forward from the driver's seat, leaving the forward portion of the vehicles well protected, whilst the rear was painfully vulnerable. As the cannons began to rotate at a rapid pace, spitting fiery red plasma at the Sith pursuers, one of the Dark Jedi noticed this flaw. The man, armed with a crimson saberstaff, charged towards the Naboo soldiers, using the Force to augment his speed to the point that he could deflect all incoming fire. Meanwhile, the golden armored soldiers had started returning fire on their attackers. The air was suddenly filled with laser fire. The heavy metal plating on the bikes was scorched black by the new Sith blasters, which were a hybrid of Imperial and Star Forge technology. Fortunately, the bikes' armor was strong enough to stand up to these state of the art hand held weapons for the time being.

Bastila noticed the Dark Jedi that was quickly making his way towards the bikes. Positioning her own saberstaff against her back, she started towards the back of the swoops in order to make a defensive stand. When he did reach her, the dark Force user attempted to bypass her and simply went for the bike. He plunged one end of his blood red weapon into the rear of the vehicle. The blade pierced through wires and circuitry, fusing the internal components needed to keep the swoop's navigational system functional. Once they were severed by the lightsaber, the pilot lost control of his swoop. It suddenly jutted forward, uncontrollably, and sped off. It went over another hill and was lost from sight but no one missed the sound of a large explosion or the billows of smoke that started to rise from behind that same hill.

Before the Dark Jedi had a chance to repeat the process on the second swoop, Bastila intervened. Taking on the Ataru form of combat, she locked blades with her enemy. They grappled for several seconds, the sounds of their weapons hissing resonating through the area. As the two began to fight, the other Sith were dropping like bulbflies.

With the aid of the two swoopers, one of whom was now out of commission, the Rebels had begun an effective counter attack. The eight Rebel soldiers, two females, six males, had grabbed their blasters and opened fire on the Sith. Despite superior numbers, the golden armored forces were outmatched by the superior firepower of the remaining swoop bike's cannons. The two repeating lasers were on a swivel system, allowing them to move back and forth, taking out as many Sith as possible. The bike itself served as fair cover too. Most of the Rebels had ducked behind it so that they could use it to shield themselves from blaster fire. The only problem was that Bastila and the Dark Jedi were viciously trading blows not ten yards away. Thus, Leia drew her own lightsaber, the one that had belonged to Darth Vader, and set up a defensive barrier between the duelists and the Rebels. Thankfully, her services as a swordswoman were not needed.

Bastila dropped down to one knee and swung her lightsaber in an upwards horizontal strike. The amber colored saber cleaved through the thin robes that her opponent wore and cleaved him in two. He made no noise as the two pieces that used to be connected collapsed into the grass. Looking to her left, only nine or so Sith troopers were still standing. Gathering the Force about her, she leapt almost twelve feet into the air and hurled a ball of Force energy as them. It struck like a bomb, sending enough force into every direction to knock all of the Sith off of their feet. Once they were grounded, the Rebels had no trouble killing them off.

The Sith were dead but they had done some damage. Two of the Rebel soldiers, both males, had sustained injuries during the fight. One had only been grazed by a stray blaster bolt but the other had taken a shot directly in the stomach. "Medic, see what you can do to patch him up," the Jedi instructed the green skinned Twi'lek that traveled with them with a gesture towards the dark skinned soldier that was now reeling in pain on the ground. "You two," she indicated two more of their men. "Run over that hill. See what happened to the other swoop bike. If the pilot's alive, bring him back here."

"Yes Master Jedi," one of them responded before both took off towards the crash sight.

Next, the commanding Jedi Knight turned her attention to the other swoop bike. The pilot had hopped out and was headed towards her. He was a young man, maybe in his early twenties, dressed in a cream colored tunic and a royal blue cape; the customary garb of a Naboo soldier. His skin was of a lighter tone, typical of someone living in the relatively calm climate of the sovereign world. His hair had been cropped short, so that it was a small patch of blond spikes that were accompanied by two blue eyes. A rough cast was apparent around his chin and lower face area, indicating the beginnings of a rugged beard.

"My name is Cale Duggard, first Lieutenant with the Navy of the Sovereign World of Naboo," he saluted as he placed his right arm in a diagonal across his chest. His voice was official and unreadable. It carried a gruff sound to it, which was common of veteran soldiers but rare in someone so young.

"I am Bastila Shan, Jedi Knight and Commander within the Rebel Alliance," she replied in turn, giving a small bow as the Jedi variant of his salute.

"King Brehen sent us when our spies picked up a visual on your pursuers. He is interested in speaking with you," the young man informed her as he made a small gesture in the direction of Theed city, despite the fact that it was well out of sight.

"He'll have to wait," Princess Leia announced as she walked over to the two, clipping her commandeered lightsaber to her belt. "More of our people are probably scattered across the planet's surface. We need to find them and quickly."

"And who," Cale began with a soft smile. "do I have the pleasure of speaking with?" He flashed her a charming look, which even Bastila couldn't help but smirk upon seeing.

"My name is Senator Leia Organa," the princess returned with her own smile. "I am one of the eight elected senators to the Rebel House of Representatives."

"Well Senator," the soldier said as he pulled a small communicator from his belt. "I think I can help find your allies." He put the device to his lips before he stopped and looked back at the two women. "Mind you, the Empire monitors our communications. We believe this line is clear so we have to speak carefully. Your friends will be in no danger." Bastila and Leia cast each other a confused look before Cale activated his comm. ""All units, more Rebels in the area. Repeat, more Rebels in the area. Orders are to capture and bring back to Theed palace, unharmed. The king wants to interrogate them personally."

Both women shifted uncomfortably when they heard the order but neither read any dishonesty in the man's aura. Instead, they chose to continue on towards the palace, as they had initially intended. "We need to dispose of the Sith corpses," Leia muttered thoughtfully. "Strip the bodies of any valuables. If there are any first aid kits, bring them to me. Take their blasters for yourselves!" she called out.

The Rebels quickly moved to comply. Most of the weapons were left behind because there was no way of carrying them all but the power packs were all stripped and dumped into the soldiers' bags. Carefully, Leia picked up the double bladed lightsaber that had belonged to the fallen Dark Jedi. "We probably shouldn't leave this either," she commented as she handed it to her master.

"Agreed," the slightly older Jedi said as she took it. She locked the activation switch in the off position so that it wouldn't skewer her as she walked and then stuffed it away in her pack. "You need to build your own at some point," she commented to her apprentice.

Leia chuckled dryly at this. "I don't think this war will let up for the few hours it would take me to build one," she returned. "Besides," she said as she grabbed her stolen weapon from her belt. "I rather like this one."

"It belonged to Darth Vader," the Talravin Jedi reminded the young senator. "It would be unwise to become attached to it."

The Alderaan princess merely nodded, though she felt that it was too late. She already had become attached to the weapon for some reason. All she needed to do was modify it slightly to make it her own and then she would be content.

While Leia contemplated her saber, the two Rebels that Bastila had sent to investigate the swoop bike had returned. "Dead," they reported about the driver as one of the men handed Bastila his tags.

"Then we need to leave," Cale stated calmly. "This area will be crawling with reinforcements soon. I suggest we leave the bodies and move on."

"Alright. Everyone, we're moving out. Let's go."


	18. Armistice

**The Darkest Lord**

**Chapter XVIII: Armistice**

For the second time in the last hour, Bastila Shan, Leia Organa, and the company of Rebels that were following them paused, grinding halt because of the sound of a loud engine, which revved violently. The noise reverberated off of the hilly slopes that surrounded them, amplifying each time that it did and making it impossible to pinpoint the origin of the sound. All of them looked around. Fear was not as abundant as it had been the last time. They felt more confident in their chances of survival this time because of the addition of their own swoop pilot. Cale Druggard, a Naboo soldier that worked for the underground Rebel movement on the sovereign world, quickly checked his radar before reporting to Bastila, who was his acting commander for the moment. "Speeder headed this way. Not marked as one of ours."

"Which way is it coming from?" Bastila called out over the sound of the deafening echo.

"North!"

"Everyone be ready!" Leia shouted. "Do not engage unless we know that they are hostile!"

The engine sound grew louder as a large speeder, decorated in blue paint, sped towards them. It vaulted over a steep hill and began a downward ascent at nearly two hundred kilometers per hour, faster than the eyes of the Rebels could properly process. The pilot smirked when he saw the group. They stood there, helpless before him. Their swoop bike was facing the wrong direction to engage in battle and it would take a handful of seconds for the pilot to correct this problem. That was a handful of seconds that they wouldn't have if he opened fire.

Neither Leia, nor Bastila missed the twin cannons that were mounted on either side of the vehicle. Cale's instruments warned him that the speeder was in fact armed though, despite his lack of Force enhanced sight. The first lieutenant quickly began to spin his bike around to face the oncoming stranger but he did not activate the much bulkier repeating cannons that were mounted on his own transport. All of the Rebels drew their blasters and took aim, whilst Bastila activated both amber hued blades of her double bladed lightsaber.

Just before she gave the word to open fire on the oncoming speeder, it stopped abruptly. Dust and dirt were thrown up into the air as the brake system pulled the engine to a halt. It was blown in the Rebels' general direction, choking most of them into coughing spasms. The loud humming of the vehicle's systems died to nothing as the pilot ejected the keychip from its receptacle. A moment later, the door of the speeder opened upwards and a figure dressed in black Jedi robes stepped out, running a hand through his dark hair. Darth Revan smiled at the Rebels as he started to walk towards them, his leather boots pressing softly into the earth beneath them.

Bastila reacted quickly. "Open fire!" she ordered her soldiers hastily.

Recovering from the dust storm, they all began to take aim. Before the order could be completed, however, Revan used the Force to rip all of their weapons from their hands and toss them carelessly behind him. The only ones who were still armed were Bastila, who clutched at her lightsaber tightly, Leia, whose lightsaber still hung from her belt, and Cale, who sat inside of his swoop bike. The soldier was not familiar with Revan but he did know that he had just been given a direct command from a beautiful woman. His hands grabbed the control sticks of his bike and his index fingers pressed down on the triggers. The cannons on his swoop bike suddenly sprang to life and began rotating as they spat a spray of blaster fire at the deposed Sith Lord.

Revan reacted quickly, rolling out of the way with speed allotted to him by the Force itself. Once he was on his knee, he extended both of his arms towards the bike and pulled them back towards his chest. His psychic energies ripped the cannons off of the swoop, leaving it unarmed and exposing the circuitry. The bulky repeaters were tossed aside with the rest of the Rebel weaponry. "Hold your fire!" he snapped at the group as he stood up straight, dusting off his robes. The knee that had been pressed into the ground was now stained with mud, which he looked at disdainfully. "Bloody typical." He began to bat the dirt from his trousers passively.

"We'll attack him together, one from each side," Bastila spoke to Leia through their bond.

Having greater control of his own Force bond with Bastila, Revan was able to hear every word that she had sent to her apprentice. Leia ignited her own crimson lightsaber and the two women rushed forward. The Dark Lord pulled the lightsaber given to him by Padmé Amidala from his belt and activated it. The cerulean blade poured forth from hilt and instantly sprang into action. Revan was forced to retreat as the two women pressed forward. The four blades moved faster than most of the Rebels could keep up. Revan was faster than either of the Jedi in front of him and was able to deflect their strikes with minimal effort.

It bothered Bastila to see that there was a smirk on his face as he dueled. Even with two skilled attackers pressing him backwards, he still felt completely confident. He had also opened up his mind to their bond; the complete opposite of what she had done herself. Ever since it had manifested itself, the young Jedi had purposely left the link closed so that Revan couldn't use it to glance into her thoughts as easily. He seemed to have intentions on the other end of the spectrum. He wanted her to look. He wanted her to see just how little he thought of her.

Indeed, this is one reason that he left the link between them wide open but there was another. When it had first appeared, the Dark Lord had taken the time to analyze his new bond mate's thought patterns and styles. She was a curious little chit to be sure. Curiosity, while innate in most organics, was deadly. If he left his mind open to her, or his surface thoughts at least, she would be drawn in. Entering one's mind in the midst of combat was a tricky maneuver. Only the most skilled Jedi Masters and Sith Lords would dare to try but Bastila was too cocky. She felt that she deserved to be a master. Therefore, she would risk it. When she did, his memories would overwhelm her and she would be left wide open.

Until she did look in, however, he needed to remain focused. He swung the blue lightsaber in his hands in a wide arc, which both women had to jump back to avoid. Gathering the Force into his hand, he hurled a ball of Force energy at the pair. Silently communicating, the two agreed on a pincer strategy. Leia leapt to her left, while Bastila rolled to the right. Using Force enhanced speed, they charged at him and swung their sabers simultaneously. Revan had to admit that it was impressive to watch such precise synchronized dueling. Were it not for their bond, they wouldn't be able to accomplish such an elegant feat. Fortunately for him, the bond was close to his own link with Bastila's mind. While he couldn't use it to glance into Leia's mind, he could use it to monitor everything that the older of the two women said to her apprentice. Thus, he knew to simply step back when they struck. Bastila's saberstaff and Leia's standard blade connected, emanating a loud hissing sound into the air.

"You're easy to read, Jedi," he chided them as he jumped back, pulling back into his specialized Juyo stance.

"So are you!" she snapped back as she fell into his trap and glanced into his mind. He had been prepared and forced her away from the information that she sought. Instead of finding his combat stratagem, she was thrown carelessly to some other, random portion of his consciousness. Flashes suddenly overwhelmed her. Images of a boy holding a green lightsaber, a Jedi woman approaching him slowly, and a man, dead on the floor, filled her mind.

"Wrong move!" Revan's voice suddenly thundered as he snapped the link shut, casting her out of his mind. Being so roughly thrown from his mind, which had been completely open only moments before startled the young woman. The Sith Lord jumped at Bastila, tackling her to the ground. The saberstaff went flying into the air, which he snatched deftly. Leia approached quickly, but he extended the still active amber blade towards her threateningly as he turned his own cerulean weapon on the Jedi beneath him. In order to drive home the threat, he placed his boot down on Bastila's upper chest and applied just enough pressure to make breathing difficult. "Stand down!" he ordered the princess of Alderaan violently.

"Don't!" Bastila gasped. "He's cornered! Finish him!"

Leia didn't move. Her saber remained in an undefined battle stance but she didn't strike at Revan. As her sloppy fighting skills had demonstrated, the girl had almost no experience with a blade. Today had probably been her first and only duel and she had failed miserably as a swordswoman. Without any proper training, there was no possible way for her to stand up to him. They both knew it too.

"Close down your lightsaber," he ordered gently.

Reluctantly, her conscience forced her to comply. The crimson blade slid back into its shaft and she stepped away from Revan, dejected. "What do you want, Revan?" the princess sneered as she continued to keep her distance.

Suddenly, Revan stepped away from Bastila and closed down both of the sabers in his hands. He proficiently flipped the one he had stolen from the Jedi Knight on the ground and extended it towards her, offering it back. Everyone in the area looked baffled by this development. Hurriedly she grabbed her saberstaff and turned the beam emitter away from herself so that the deposed Sith Lord could not use it to impale her. It took her another moment to scurry backwards and get to her feet, during which time Revan watched her with a grim amusement on his face.

"What are you doing here, Revan?" Bastila snarled. "You had your chance to escape."

In order to indicate that he wasn't a threat, the former Lord of the Sith returned the lightsaber that had belonged to Anakin Skywalker to his belt, beside the blaster pistol he had stolen aboard the Republic warship, before it had been destroyed. He folded his arms over his chest and locked eyes with Bastila. "And where, exactly, do you purpose I go. Malak didn't fire on your bloody ship until after he learned that I was aboard." Bastila and Leia cocked their heads at one another. The princess's mouth fell open in shock while her master pulled hers into a tight lock, unsure of whether or not she could believe what Revan had just said to her. "It looks as if we have yet another enemy in common, Bastila."

"Are you looking for sympathy, scumbag?" one of the Rebel women called out from behind Cale's swoop bike.

"No," he responded turning his charming smile on her. "I simply want what I deserve. A chance to go after Malak myself."

"That is not the Jedi way!" Bastila snapped.

"Well in case you didn't notice, the Jedi are gone. They are all dead, save you and a few others. Your ways are dead and mine will be once Malak and this Sith Emperor are gone. The Force will soon be purged from the spheres of political influence, just as I had always intended."

"You wanted control for yourself," the Talravin woman rebutted.

"Is that what your vaunted Jedi Council told you?"

"It's a fact!"

"Says Atris and Vrook and those other simple minded bastards," he muttered back. "In any case, they are dead and any chances I may have had of 'taking over the galaxy' as you seem to believe was my intention, are gone."

"You're pathetic," Bastila said through contemptuous sneer. "You abandoned the Jedi and the Sith abandoned you. What does that make you, Revan?"

The former Jedi Knight and Sith Lord shrugged his shoulders. "Call me a Rebel," he suggested, shrugging and throwing a bit of extra emphasis to the last word to drive home the point..

"No!" Leia screamed, her Rebel senator duties exploding in her mind.

"Bastila," he said, directly addressing his bonded partner. "You and I are connected. No matter how far apart we are, our minds are linked. Until we figure out how to sever this bond, and I don't care what the Jedi would teach, I will sever this bond, it is safer for us to be in close quarters."

"How?" Leia burst out.

"Well if I were to open the bond completely, intentionally or not, we'd be physically linked as well as emotionally for starters," he said as if it were common sense. "Any harm that were to befall me would come down on your master as well."

"You're lying!" Leia snapped. "That doesn't even make sense."

"Calm down, Leia. This is what he wants you to do." Bastila turned back to Revan. They fixed each other with a deep, strong gaze. His amber colored eyes and her pale gray ones met. Each was reading the other, whilst trying to keep their minds closed to the bond between them.

Bastila broke the connection first. "You are a prisoner of the Rebel Alliance," she told him as she turned back to her crew. "Cale, he will ride with you inside of the swoop bike. Leia, take his speeder. Revan, you will travel with us to Theed palace, where you will be confined and await trial before an authorized court and a jury selected by King Brehen." The sound of a lightsaber igniting stopped her in her tracks. She spun around. Cale had attempted to take Revan prisoner so that he could latch him to the swoop but Revan was holding him back at lightsaber point.

"I don't think so," the self-proclaimed Rebel said seriously. "I just bested your entire unit, who I'd like to point out, attacked me before I attacked you, and you expect to take me prisoner. I must have knocked something loose when I hit you."

"Cooperate or you won't be joining us!" she snarled at him.

"Then I'll kill you, take the speeder to Theed where I can commandeer a ship, fly back to the _Malevolence, _kill Malak, and retake control of the Sith."

"Then why don't you?"

"In hind sight, that actually does sound like a much better plan," Revan said thoughtfully. "Interesting. Anyways, I still would prefer to keep you close until this bond is severed. So, I don't think I'll be acting as your prisoner. Try thinking of me as a partner."

"Bastila, we don't have time to keep arguing," Cale pointed out. "The Sith are still chasing us."

He was right. Bastila could sense oncoming Sith forces, which may have been exactly what Revan wanted. In any case, she needed to distance her crew from Malak's men. "Let's go," she muttered. "Revan, stay near me and away from my people."

"Oh yes ma'am," he said as he snapped off a sarcastic salute.

"Ugh," she groaned as she started forward again. "Come on. Leia, you take the speeder."

"What do you mean they're just gone?" Han Solo asked his first mate, Chewbacca, as he re-examined the radar that was supplying the questionable information. The Wookiee growled a response, to which the smuggler rolled his eyes. "They can't have just vanished, Chewie. Something must have happened."

Although that would have been the most logical statement, Han wasn't even sure if it was true. The _Millennium Falcon _had been following the Republic warship that Darth Revan had been brought aboard, after his capture on Vjun. They had been en route to the Hoth system, where the Rebels would have been able to hide from the Empire until they were ready for a tactical strike.

Despite the overwhelming success that the Rebellion had seen since Carth Onasi had blown up the Death Star, there were problems. As expected, a horde of new recruits had swarmed to their cause, which, while ideal on paper, was hampering their efforts. First off, one of the Rebellion's greatest strengths was its ability to stay invisible. If the Emperor couldn't find those who opposed them, he was vulnerable. Such an influx of new men and women to recruiting stations drew attention from unwanted eyes. While most of the Imperial Fleet now surrounded Coruscant in an impenetrable wall, there were still those who were loyal to Palpatine and Vader that had their own brand of justice. The Rebels needed to lay low for awhile.

Another problem with all of the new soldiers was their lack of experience. Most of the people who had fought in the Clone Wars had either been Clones, who were loyal to the Empire, droids, which were long gone, and Jedi, most of whom were dead. In hindsight, the Clone Wars had not been real for most of the citizens of the Republic. It had merely been a political conflict from which most citizens had stayed away. Han sure hadn't participated. In any case, the lack of veterans caused a problem for the Rebels. All of their new soldiers were greenhorns who didn't know a thing about battle or military strategy. Most of them were too trigger happy for their own good. They needed to be trained before normal rebellious activities could resume.

Of course, all of that was moot, considering the fact that the one ship that held all of the Jedi Rebels, one of their most dangerous enemies, and a Rebel Senator was now missing. It had been ripped from hyperspace while they had been traveling. "I've got a bad feeling about this, Chewie," Han commented as he fell back into his comfortable pilot's chair. "See if you can trace their ID signature back to the point where we lost them."

The Wookiee whined something lazily but slowly got up to comply with orders. He switched a few of the levers that hung overhead and then moved back to the co-pilot's seat, which was covered in thick brown hair from the Wookiee's back and posterior, before activating the scanner. Chewbacca looked over the instruments for several moments before whining again.

"Nothing?" Han repeated. Chewie barked an affirmative reply. "Alright, turn the ship around." The Wookiee's eyes went wide and he howled a protest. "Do it, you dumb furball!" the pilot ordered as he got up and started down the hallway. Chewbacca was about to argue again but a siren quickly went off, alarming the two smugglers. "What is that?" Han called out. Chewie moaned a response, which brought his friend back into the cockpit immediately. "Who are they?" he asked as he looked at the radar on the dashboard, spotting two small starfighters inbound. Chewie didn't answer. He didn't know. Their ID signatures were different from any that the pair had ever seen before. Contemporary ships used ID numbers that had four Basic letters and twelve numerals, along with a name, if one had been applied. These two ships each had only one letter and seven numerals. The lack of digits could only mean that the signatures were severely out of date.

"Sith," Han muttered as it dawned on him. "These are Revan's friends." Chewbacca growled violently. "I'll handle it," Han responded as he started back down the corridor, towards the guns. "Get out of the way!" he shouted, most likely at C-3PO.

"Oh my!" a befuddled, mechanical voice exclaimed as the captain brushed past him.

Han began to climb the latter that would take him up to the top side gun so that he could deal with the two Sith fighters. He fell into the chair and slipped the headset on before grabbing the targeting system. "On my mark!" he called into the comm. Chewbacca responded quickly and Han swerved in his seat so that he could see the two ships. "Wait that's weird," he said to himself as he looked after the ships. "Chewie, are they flying right past us?" It was a dumb question, given the fact that he could see the two Sith snub fighters through the viewport of his seat. "Follow them. And keep quiet. I don't want them to know we're coming."

Han quickly got out of his seat and descended the latter that he had climbed to reach the turret. The inside of the main room of the _Millennium Falcon _was a mess. Plasteel cylinders and crates, most of which were currently empty, had been thrown all about during the flight. R2-D2 was plugged into the freighter's main computer, sifting through information on the holonet.

"R2, can you shut down enough of the _Falcon's Falcon's _systems to make us invisible to a ship's radar." The small, blue astromech droid whistled and affirmative and unplugged from the terminal with which it was interfacing. It rolled after Han as the pilot led the droid back to the cockpit. The droid stayed in the corridor, just outside, and opened a small panel in its side. A new tool popped out, which the small computer inserted into the ship's interface module. A few of the lights inside the cockpit went out before the droid beeped excitedly.

"What is it?" Han demanded impatiently.

"He says that the ship should be invisible to radar but he had to deactivate several critical functions in order to accomplish this," the gold plated protocol droid answered for his friend.

"What critical functions?"

"What critical functions, R2?" 3P0 inquired. The droid beeped four times before his counterpart turned back to the waiting smuggler. "The navicomputer is down, as well as our shields and our hyperdrive, sir."

"The hyperdrive? No! What's the matter with you?"

R2's domed head swiveled several times as it chirped before C-3P0 interjected. "Captain Solo, he says that he can reactivate all of these functions if we need a quick getaway. We simply need to give him several minutes forewarning, sir."

"That droid is going to get me killed," he muttered as he ran a hand through his brown hair. "Chewie, follow those two ships. Keep the guns ready though." Chewbacca nodded with a grunt and began to fiddle with the controls.

Aboard the _Malevolence, _Darth Traya's crimson blade slid back into the shaft of her personalized lightsaber, just as the body of a young Dark Jedi crumpled to the floor in death. The Lady of Betrayals returned the Sith weapon to the inner folds of her velvety robes as she proceeded down the long corridor of the Interdictor ship.

Traya was and had been many things in her time. She had been a young girl, innocent and sweet on her home world. Then she had become a Jedi Initiate, where her training in the Force began. Next, her journey took down the rode of Jedi Padawan and, at the same time, it paralleled her journey through girlhood, into womanhood, where she had been forced to discard most of the personal goals and achievements she had ever hoped to have for herself. Love was thrown out the window, along with childish fantasies. Still, she continued to progress. She became a knight and that is when her life took a more interesting turn. That is when she had been sent to Deralia to break up the criminal risings that had been going on. Her mission had been an utter failure. Her key witness, Barren de Turk, had been executed by his own son.

The loss of Deralia had never truly affected her though. True, the crime world had devolved into chaos and madness after her failure but she had taken something away from it that had almost made it all seem worthwhile. De Turk's son was none other than the boy that she had taken under her wing to become her apprentice. Revan was the crown jewel that Deralia had offered her and she had never once been disappointed by him. Even during his affair with that Takhisis girl, which she had strongly disapproved of, Traya had not felt ashamed to say that she had raised the young man. Even with all of his shortcomings, Revan was a son to her and, though she could never openly admit it, she loved him deeply, as if he were her own flesh and blood.

That being said, Malak's betrayal was intolerable. Whilst the other Sith aboard the Star Forge and across the Empire were already making schemes and plotting to fall in favor with the new Lord of the Sith, Traya would remain loyal to her only true master. Anyone who stood in her way would feel the wrath of the Lady of Betrayals.

Unfortunately, in a contest of strength, Darth Malak would cut her down in a heartbeat. He was a master swordsman, almost better than his own master, or former master now. In addition, he loved the dark side of the Force. He reveled in it. Once he and Revan had fallen, the Lord of Malice had honed his powers, gaining mastery over the most destructive of Force techniques. Using his powers alone, Malak could probably level entire buildings with his bare hands. No guns. No ships. No lightsaber. Just the power of the Force. The only other Jedi or Dark Jedi that Traya had ever met with that sort of power was Revan himself.

Traya didn't have that sort of power. To contest herself against someone like Malak would be naïve. He would kill her within a matter of minutes, if he didn't choose to slowly torment her over the course of months simply for the hell of it. If anyone had the strength to fend off Malak, it would have to be Revan. And Revan had been designated the Lord of Revenge. He would make good on that title if he ever came in contact with his former apprentice again. He would need help though.

Traya slipped through the hallways as all of these thoughts passed through her mind. What she had planned could be considered treason. Taking a ship and supplies to Revan would infuriate Malak if he ever discovered her purpose. Therefore, she needed to move swiftly. Walking swiftly, she passed only a few Sith soldiers, most of whom ignored her. Some gave only the slightest indication that they saw the Sith Lady. This made it easy to get into the hangar and approach her shuttle. That didn't stop her heart from throbbing painfully in her chest each time she came into contact with another sentient being, or maintenance droid for that matter. Her intentions were making her paranoid. None of the young Sith Acolytes or Dark Jedi could possibly invade her mind enough to tell what she was planning and she had given them no real reason to believe that she would betray the Sith Empire. Still, paranoia, as Revan had taught her, was a real life saver in do or die situations. It had saved the both of them countless times.

As the Dark Lady stepped into the Sith ship's hangar, a shuttle was just landing. A small honor guard of red armored troops approached the vessel as the hydraulics lowered the boarding ramp and the interior of the ship depressurized, emitting steam as a byproduct of the built up gravity pocket. This made her stop in the doorway to watch. A cloaked figure quickly exited the transport and turned to address one of his honor guards.

"Where is Lord Malak?" the newly arrived man inquired.

"Aboard the bridge, Lord Skywalker," the crimson armored soldier answered as he snapped off a typical Sith salute.

"Send word to him of my arrival. I have news for him."

With that, Skywalker turned away from the man and started for the hangar door, right where Traya was standing beside a pillar of stacked plasteel crates. He stopped just before the door and turned to look at the old woman with a critical eye. Through her black atrophied abysses, she met his gaze, keeping her lips drawn in a tight line as to reveal no emotion whatsoever. This was Luke Skywalker, Malak's newest pet. They had met briefly during his training aboard the Star Forge. He was the first in line to become the new Sith Apprentice, or at least he had been before word of Revan's survival had spread. Now it was a guess as to whether or not Malak would bother to keep him around any more. Given the circumstances of Revan's betrayal, it was likely. However, if another Dark Jedi somehow managed to kill Revan before Luke was able, then he would surely be passed over or even discarded in typical Sith fashion. Needless to say, he was a danger.

"It is good to see you again, Lady Traya," the young man said respectfully with a polite bow.

"You as well, Lord Skywalker," the Sith Lady responded monotonously. "I take it your mission went well?"

"Going well," he corrected her. "Obi-Wan Kenobi is still alive. He is on the planet's surface in fact."

"I see," the old woman said as a hint of amusement fell into her tone. Malak would punish Luke for returning empty handed, even if it was to make a status report. In the end, Luke wasn't Traya's problem though. Therefore, she chose not to warn him and to simply let him suffer the consequences of Malak's wrath. He needed to learn at some point just how ruthless the Dark Lord of the Sith truly had become.

"I must be off," he informed her. "It was good to see you again."

"May the Force be with you, Lord Skywalker."

"And you," he answered.

The two nodded at one another before Luke turned on his heel and walked out, proceeding down the corridors towards his precious master. Traya shook her head ruefully and started towards her own shuttle. She needed to be quick. Malak wouldn't torture Luke for his mistake if he believed that the boy could be useful in killing Revan. He would send the Tatooine child down to the planet's surface to hunt down both Kenobi and Revan, which made her job far more complicated. Skywalker was a powerful Jedi and the time he had spent bound to Exar Kun's ghost had taught him much. Thus, Traya needed to move with all haste to avoid a conflict with him. Like Malak, he was too powerful for her to handle on her own. She needed to find Revan.

It didn't take her long to slip into her shuttle, unseen by the foolish guards, and activate the autopilot sequence. The shuttle, despite various ground protests, lifted off and darted down towards the planet's surface. She would save her apprentice or die in the process. Either way, she would not abandon him as his most trusted companion had done.


	19. Cave

**The Darkest Lord**

**Chapter XIX: Cave**

Han Solo frowned as the _Millennium Falcon _stopped short in space, coming to hover in orbit over the planet of Naboo, well out of range of the small Sith forces that leered down upon the sovereign world. He leaned back in his swiveling pilot's chair, turning his head towards the Wookiee that sat beside him. "What do you think, Pal?" he asked. Chewbacca growled a nervous response, crossing his hairy arms over his chest. To further indicate his opinion of the bleak situation, he stuck his snout up in the air, snorting loudly. "That good, huh?" the space pirate said sarcastically as he turned back towards the planet. "3P0."

"I'm here!" the gold plated protocol droid exclaimed as he bustled into the room from the main hallway of the space freighter. "Yes Captain Solo?"

"I have a plan," the scruffy looking man told the droid as he stood up so that he was face to face with him. "Shut down." Before the droid could process what had been said to him, Han flicked the small switch that protruded from the machine's neck, deactivating his processor, which essentially shut down all system functions. The two light bulbs that surrounded the photoreceptors went dark and the head, no longer supported by electrical impulses, fell into a tilt. "He'd give us away," the captain told the small astromech droid that had followed his counterpart into the room. "Chewie, throw the droid into the smuggling compartments so that they don't find him."

Chewbacca's eyes went wide as he stood up and roared at Han, waving his curled fist viciously. "Don't argue with me, you big coward! We're going in there." Chewie growled a negative at the order. "Of course we are. The Falcon traced the Rebel ship to that planet. They're down there and those Sith have enough firepower to level the planet. We need to make sure that doesn't happen."

R2 beeped several times before Han turned to him. "Plug into the Falcon, you trash compactor. I don't understand a word you're saying." The droid beeped its equivalent to a sigh and extended one of its many interfacing tools so that it could plug into the navicomputer. It beeped several more times before words began to appear on the computer's screen.

"Are we boarding that ship?"

"No," Han answered quickly. "We don't have any Jedi to bail us out this time. No. We just need to be as quiet as possible while we're entering atmosphere and he puts out more energy than a small sun when he's flustered."

"Then what are we doing?"

"We're going to make a quiet run into the atmosphere," he replied. "Now leave me alone." With that, Han quickly took his seat and began to punch in different commands into the ship's computer systems. "If anything comes at us, I want you to blow it out of the air with the swivel cannon, Chewie." The Wookiee grunted before activating the weaker gun's main targeting system. "Hold on, people," the captain muttered as he looked down on the planet.

"It's a cave," Princess Leia stated, confusion evident on her features as she inspected the ominous looking rock structure that had formed in the side of one of the hills of Naboo plains. The Rebel senator placed both of her hands on her hips as she examined the mouth of the dark tunnel that Revan had suggested the group use for cover, her lip curling disdainfully. She cast a wayward glance at the deposed Sith Lord and frowned. She couldn't read him at all. His face was as blank as the mask that she had once seen him wear. There was no emotion whatsoever. It was just a cold visage that gave off no warmth, nor anything else for that matter. It was literally as if Revan had mentally withdrawn into himself and only the most basic of functions were still operating properly. That made her nervous. Being unable to read him meant that she couldn't decipher his intentions. "What makes you think that this cave will take us to Theed?" she asked him, annoyed that the only way to make out his motives was to ask him directly. There was no answer at first. He simply reached out with his hand and clenched it into a closed fist. Then he turned his pale golden eyes upon her.

"Can't you feel it, Leia?" he asked her in an almost monotonous voice. "There's something inside of that cave."

"I don't sense anything," the nineteen year old girl responded as she looked inside, seeing only what was visible in the illumination of the sun. "The Force is present, yes, but nothing specific. It's just a hot spot."

"I do," Bastila reluctantly agreed with Revan. "The Force is strong inside of this cave." She turned to the older Force user. The usual caution she faced him with was replaced with curiousness, much to the Dark Lord's surprise. "Do you suppose that this cave is similar to the crystal cave on Dantooine, from our time?" she inquired thoughtfully.

Revan frowned, allowing the briefest hint of an emotion to get through. "Maybe," he answered her uncertainly. "I used to play in those caves daily as a boy. It's been years since I set foot on that planet though. I don't particularly remember what the energy inside felt like."

Bastila looked back from their newest "ally" to the entrance. Her shield of caution came back up and she reassumed the terser attitude that she usually used to confront Revan. She was forced to agree with her student. There was no possible way that he could possibly know that this tunnel would somehow lead them to the planet's capital and she wouldn't risk the lives of her remaining men based on a deranged Sith Lord's crazy hunch. "Answer Leia's question," the Jedi ordered. "How do you know that this cave will take us to Theed?" The answer she received was not the reassurance she had wanted to hear.

"It won't," he responded with a shrug. "I never said it would."

"Then why would we go in?" Bastila demanded.

"The sun is going to go down in an hour or so. The helmets that the Sith troopers wear have inferred vision and they've been trained to hunt during the night. To continue on in the dark would be idiotic."

"Sounds like you've designed your soldiers to be the most efficient killers possible," Cale Druggard, a lieutenant under the service of King Brehen, sneered at Revan.

"They're not machines, Lt. Druggard," the deposed Sith Lord said with a dark look at the Naboo based Rebel. "They were trained, not designed."

"In your world, is there a difference?" the man asked incredulously.

"I did design an assassin once. The perfect hunter-killer," Revan replied with a dark smirk as he thoughts turned back in time to the rusty colored HK-47 that was now sitting useless aboard the Star Forge. If Revan ever reclaimed his space station, the first thing he would do would be to reactivate the droid and send it to carry out its primary function on that traitorous schutta of an apprentice, Malak.

"We still have at least three hours before travel is impossible," the soldier told his leaders, turning away from the morbid conversation he would have engaged in if he continued along this train of thought with Revan. "I suggest that we keep going."

"That's easy for you to say," the deposed Lord of the Sith interjected. "Things get hot, you can fly away in your swoop bike. We have to stay and fight on foot."

"I would never!" Cale protested angrily. He stopped abruptly as his voice reverberated off of the large barren hills that surrounded them. His eyes went wide and the few remaining Rebels all looked around nervously, particularly to the hills behind them, where the Sith had been gathering.

"Knock it off!" Bastila hissed at the soldier. "You'll attract the Sith." She sighed and turned to the crew around her. Revan was right. Traveling in the dark would not only be difficult, but it would also leave them vulnerable, especially if the Sith had the kind of training and equipment that he claimed they did. There was also the fact that she was curious as to the nature of the cave before her. Whatever it was that she could sense inside of the natural structure, it was strong in the Force. Maybe one of the old Jedi Masters had escaped the Jedi Purge and was taking refuge here on Naboo. Obi-Wan had told her that others might have survived the terror of Order 66. "We'll make camp inside. It is a sound location."

"Bastila, no!" Cale urged her. "This is a death trap. What if there's no back way out of the cave? Well be trapped if these Sith find out where we are!"

"It's a bottleneck point, kid," Revan explained as he walked towards the cave, pressing his hand against the natural rock surface of its mouth. "They come at us, we can back ourselves into a corner. They'll be forced to come at us one by one, in a single file line. Then we can pick them off, one by one, for as long as we need. It's how I survived a rather brutal battle during the Mandalorian Wars.

"That's a dangerous plan," Leia commented. "And we've already lost enough men."

Revan nodded in agreement, feeling no need to disagree or fill his crew with a false sense of security. Both of the princess's rather obvious statements were true. The plan was dangerous. Their ship had been wiped out by Malak's fleet almost a weeks ago. In that time, they had been attacked by Sith forces on an almost daily basis. The speeder that Revan had brought with him from Varykino Island had been destroyed in one of the attacks. The Sith were now carrying heavy artillery. A well placed shot from a seeker rocket had totaled the vehicle and killed four Rebels at the same time. The constant strand of attacks had depleted their numbers. Now only four Rebels soldiers, the princess, the Jedi, the Naboo soldier, and the deposed Lord of the Sith survived. Needless to say, they couldn't afford to lose much more.

"If it would make you feel safer, I could travel ahead and explore the cave before we settle in for the night," he offered.

Leia was about to protest when her master cut in first. "That's not a bad idea," the Talravin Jedi stated. Revan turned to stare at her, almost dumbfounded. He had made the comment as a joke in order to fluster the princess. He hadn't expected any support, especially not from Bastila. The two locked eyes for a moment, each trying to read the other, which was becoming increasingly difficult as they each closed off more and more sections of their minds to the other. "It's a good idea," Bastila repeated before breaking the staring contest and turning to the others. "I'm going with him."

"What?" Leia burst out.

"Bastila, that's insane!" Cale cried out. "He'll-,"

"Hush!" the Jedi sneered at the two. "How many times do I have to tell you to keep quiet?" She moved to stand closer to the cave and nodded.

The Alderaan princess opened her mouth to protest the plan that her master had so hastily decided on but no words came out. She closed her mouth and began to chew on her lip. Deciding it would be better to speak away from prying ears, she walked directly over to the mouth of the cave and placed a brown gloved hand on her friend's shoulder. "This isn't a good idea," she whispered urgently.

"He won't hurt me," Bastila responded, her gray eyes not leaving the dark path she was about to start on. "And Leia." She broke away from the cave and turned to face her apprentice, looking her straight in the eye. "If anything goes wrong, head for the nearest city. Use public transports to reach Theed if you have to. The most important thing is for you to stay alive!"

"I can't lead this group by myself," she protested as she cast a nervous glance at the men who had followed them since the crash. They were exhausted. Their friends had been slaughtered like animals by the Sith during the long, arduous journey that had taken the better portion of the last week. Their faith was on its last nerve. How could Bastila ask her, a nineteen year old, Jedi padawan to act as commander.

"Yes you can," her master reassured her as she placed her ungloved hand on the slightly younger woman's shoulder. "You're strong in the Force, Leia. One of the strongest people I've ever met. In time, you will become a great Jedi. The Force is with you. Listen to it. It will not lead you astray."

"This is heart warming and all," Revan cut in as he started into the dark structure. "But we've got work to do. Let's go."

Bastila and Leia nodded at each other before they broke apart. "Keep to the code," Bastila told her student. "And may the Force be with you."

"And with you," the slightly younger girl replied with a solemn nod.

Leia turned from the two and went back to the few remaining men that she had left. Bastila, on the other hand, went into the cave, with a man that she did not trust and she suspected of treachery. The Rebel senator took a seat in the damp grass, watching her friend disappear into the darkness. "May the Force be with you," she repeated sorrowfully as the last glance of Bastila Shan disappeared.

Inside, Revan had a wide smirk on his lips. He was very thankful for the fact that the darkness hid this, for he didn't want his companion to make any comments or lecture him again about the error of his cruelty. It had been nearly eight years since he had renounced the Jedi ways and embraced the more callous form of the common soldier. He wasn't about to change back as a result of a single lecture, no matter how heart felt the lecturer's belief in her misguided had grown. Unfortunately, that didn't mean that she wouldn't attempt to persuade him to return to the light.

"You put a great deal of faith into your padawan," he murmured as he navigated through the dank corridor of the tunnel.

"She is going to be a great Jedi, one day," Bastila answered proudly.

"The Force is clouded around that girl, Bastila. I'm sure you can sense that. She has a part to play in the war that is to come but neither you, nor I can be certain of what that role is."

"Maybe one as narrow minded as you cannot tell what her future holds, Sith Lord, but I can. She will be a great Jedi Master and will be one of the founding members of the rebuilt Order," the Jedi Knight snidely said with one hundred percent certainty.

"Isn't that how you felt about her brother?"

Bastila stopped in her tracks, kicking up a small amount of dust in the process. "Brother?" she repeated. "Leia doesn't have a brother."

"She does," he insisted as he kept walking. "You knew him, before he fell to the dark side."

"What? Who? No! You're lying!" she exclaimed, becoming very flustered in a mere matter of moments.

At this point, Revan did stop. He turned around to stare at the young woman, a pleased look on his face, which was still hidden by the darkness that enshrouded the two. "Search your feelings," he told her with a neutral tone. "You know that I am right."

"It can't be! You are a liar, Revan! That is all!"

"The two both had so much potential," he seethed as he approached her. "Together, they would have been strong enough to stop me, Darth Vader, the Emperor, Malak, and anyone else who tried to become a blight on this galaxy. But no. You let him get taken. You let that maniac poison him and bring him to the dark side!"

"Stop it!" she ordered him. "Stop it now!"

"You threw away this galaxy's best chance for salvation when you let Luke Skywalker get captured!" he thundered as he got so close to her that they were practically nose to nose.

"Shut up!" she shrieked as the Force exploded out in every direction around her. Revan, having seen this brewing in her mind, brought up an energy shield in time to absorb the blow. He was not affected. With a small chuckle, he turned and continued onwards.

He had learned all that he knew about the Skywalker family from Darth Vader's dead wife, back at Varykino. It wasn't until he had caught up with the Rebels that he had discovered Bastila and Leia's relationship to the deceased Naboo senator. It had come as a pleasant surprise, however. Upon realizing this, he had seen the Force maneuvering valuable players into place. If Anakin and Luke Skywalker could both be broken so easily, it was a fair assumption that Leia Skywalker would be no different. However, she would not serve Exar Kun or Darth Sidious, as her family had chosen. She would serve him and his Sith Empire. The light would be purged from her and darkness would rule her, as it ruled so many of the others within his army.

It wasn't even that he hated the light side of the Force and loved the dark side. That wasn't it at all. There were some obvious merits to it. Revan may have renounced the Jedi teachings. For a time, he had even gone so far as to believe that all those who followed the ways of the light were weak but that time was in the past. Ever since he had been ripped from his own point in time and thrown into the midst of this Galactic Civil War, he had begun to question his prerogatives and redesign his philosophy on both life and the Force. Bastila Shan, for example, was young. She was a Jedi. She followed the light. In his old life, he would have written all three of these qualities off as weaknesses. However, having spent the last several days with her, he was beginning to see a side of her that was not altogether nauseating for him to be near. Granted, he still played his cruel games for the fun of it, but he did not hate her as he had first hated her aboard the _Spirit of Revenge, _all those months ago when she had first tried to weaken him with her Battle Meditation.

She was a powerful Force user. The raw amount of talent that coursed through the blood in her veins was beyond that of most people born into the galaxy. She was nearly twenty years old and her saber skills already made her proficient with a double bladed lightsaber. Hordes of his Sith minions had chosen to utilize the same weapon and even the older ones, like that pathetic excuse of a Sith Lord, Jorak Uln, failed to fight with the same elegance that this young chit had incorporated into her style. It was awe inspiring to watch her, high praise coming from the Dark Lord of the Sith. Bastila was highly loyal to the light side of the Force, yet she still had more power than most of the Sith that had sworn allegiance to him. Therefore, he was forced to reconsider his feelings of disdain towards it. Maybe there was more to the Force than he had initially believed.

"I can't see anything," she murmured softly as she kicked a large rock with her boot, stumbling forward before the young woman managed to catch her balance.

The young girl was angry with Revan for being such an arrogant bastard but she couldn't help but notice how easily he moved when she was having such difficulty. Plus, she knew that he was trying to prey on her insecurities. If she let her prior feelings for Luke's capture come back to haunt her, it would devour her and she would revert back to the shell that she had been, back on Yavin. Ever since the destruction of the Death Star, she had moved on. There was nothing she could do for Obi-Wan's fallen apprentice at the moment, so she had to forget about him. That aside, if she had any chance of saving Revan, which she still believed was a distinct possibility, she needed to learn to play his games and work with him as a unit, not a squabbling pair.

"Don't use your eyes," he instructed her sternly as he kept walking.

"How can you see in this light?" she inquired as she came to a total halt in the midst of the pitch black cavern.

Revan stopped and turned back to her. By now, they had walked several yards inside and the entrance was obscured by a rock cover. There was virtually no illumination around them. All that the deposed Sith Lord could see was a silhouette of his companion but even that was unreliable at best. Therefore, he relied on his other senses to compensate. As he walked, he tested each step with his dewback hide boot in order to keep his balance, though he was somehow able to keep a brisk pace while doing so. His sense of smell kept him constantly aware of the presence of other creatures in the area. So far, Bastila's thick Talravin scent was the only one that he was registering, which was probably a good thing. His ears served a similar purpose. The slightest of rumbles in the air would alert him to unexpected movement or breathing. All of these traits were more than enough to make up for the lack of visibility in a darkened area. This sort of perception was something that he had picked up out of necessity during his time as a soldier during the Mandalorian Wars. Clearly, the Jedi had not learned the same lesson during the war that he had waged with the Republic prior to his disappearance. A shame.

Reaching down to his belt, Revan pulled his new lightsaber from its clip and twisted it in his hand. His thumb depressed the activation switch, causing it to ignite and the cerulean hued blade to pour forth from the shaft. Seeing that a weapon had been drawn, Bastila stepped back abruptly and pulled her saberstaff from the specially designed clip that had been placed at the very back of her belt. Revan didn't move against her though. He simply stayed put, holding up his weapon as a torch. The humming blade cast an eerie azure light throughout the cave, illuminating the space around them. The stone walls that surrounded them were suddenly visible and the Jedi Knight suddenly understood what her bonded partner had done.

"Clever," she commented to him as she lowered her guard.

"Rudimentary," he remarked as he turned away from her and started forward. "If anyone else is inside of this place, we've just let them know we're here."

The recently promoted knight scowled as she continued along the rocky path, careful to avoid any jagged sediment or uneven turf, while trying to keep up with Revan so that the torchlight of his blade wouldn't leave her. This became simpler a few minutes later, as he stopped abruptly in a particularly rancid smelling area. At first, the brunette Jedi believe that he had simply stopped to allow her to catch up but then she realized that he was inspecting something.

"What is it?" she inquired once she stood behind him. Revan squatted down, keeping his lightsaber aloft as he did, in order to inspect something on the ground. With a gloved hand, he ran a finger across something on one of the rocks. "What is it?" she repeated.

"Blood," he answered as he moved aside, allowing her to see the stone he had been closely scrutinizing.

Bastila crouched down as well in order to take a look. He was correct. One of the stones had been speckled with a small, almost insignificant bit of crimson blood, which looked almost violet under the saber's illumination. It was impressive that the Dark Lord had even noticed it in the first place.

"It's fresh," he told her as he touched it again. "Only just dried."

"How can you tell?"

Revan didn't answer. Instead, he stood up and turned his head towards the path that they were following. With a broad stroke of his shoulder, he swung his lightsaber forward. The light that it cast on the cave revealed a terrible sight. Bastila openly gasped when the sight of have a dozen heavily mutilated bodies came into view. She clasped her hand to her mouth as all the blood drained from her already pale features. Revan muttered something in a language, which sounded like Mandalorian, and then stood up. He walked over to the foul smelling corpses and began to study them. There were six in total. Four were human, three male, one female. The other two were both Twi'leks, one of each gender. All six were dressed in typical hunting gear and the remains of a broken rifle indicated that they had been nothing more than a party searching for meat. The bodies had been viciously shredded, probably for a period long after they had been killed. Claw and teeth marks alike covered the victims, making it impossible to determine which injury had been the actual cause of death.

"What could have done this?" Bastila asked nervously as she bent down and closed the eyes of the scarlet skinned Twi'lek woman. "Rancor?"

"In these confines?" Revan asked incredulously as he considered the hulking size of the reptomammals. Even a young Rancor would have trouble moving in such a narrow space, unless it had literally just been born. Even then, it wouldn't have the coordination required to do something as gruesome as kill an entire hunting party. "Not possible."

"Kinrath?"

"Look at the simpler wounds," he said as he pointed to a small puncture mark on one of the dead hunters. "Its just a puncture. There's no swellings. The skin maintains its natural color. It hasn't become white and puffy. No. A kinrath would have injected its poison into each wound. These people were completely sober when they were slain."

"Cannoks?"

"They don't leave meat behind," he stated as he stood up. "No, I know what did this. And that makes things a hell of a lot more difficult for the both of us."

The Jedi crossed her arms over her chest and scowled at him. He was being secretive and she didn't like it. She was also fairly certain that he knew that acting in this manner would aggravate her. Therefore, with a snide tone, she said, "Then why don't you tell me what happened, if you have so much experience."

He looked directly at her, which caused her to raise an eyebrow. It was a challenge; a challenge towards his word and his experiences. That aggravated him deeply. It aggravated him almost as much as his secretive nature aggravated her. This Jedi was clever. Without even trying, she was already beginning to play his games and think in the same way that he thought. That would make her fall to the dark side all the more ironic and poetic in the end.

With regards to the challenge, he decided to be straightforward to prove himself. "Terentatek," he stated simply with a shrug as he turned away and started onward.

"Terentatek?" she repeated incredulously. Another dark looked formed on her lips. "This isn't the time for games, Revan!" she shouted after him, causing her voice to reverberate off of the walls and create a noisy echo.

The repetitive sound of her voice made him freeze in his place and cringe violently. If there was a Terentatek lurking about the area, she had surely just alerted it to their presence. Beautiful. That was just what he needed at the moment. "This isn't a game, Bastila," he seethed quietly at her. "The only thing I've ever seen that could do something like this is a Terentatek." He gesticulated towards the corpses for emphasis.

"They are extinct!" she insisted. "The Jedi Order purged them from the galaxy after the Great Sith War during the Great Hunt!"

"The Jedi love to throw the word 'great' into everything they do, don't they?" he murmured to himself as he kept walking. "And they call me a narcissist."

"What's that?" she asked, only hearing the first portion of his remark.

"Keep up," he ordered. "If the damn thing is still around, you'll want to be close to me."

"Bloody Sith Lord," she muttered in frustration as she started to trudge forward after him.

Back outside the cave, Princess Leia was becoming more and more anxious as the seconds ticked by her. Bastila and Revan had been gone for only fifteen minutes or so but the uneasy feeling about the current circumstances refused to disappear. The matter was compounded by the fact that the raw Force energy inside of the cave had masked the two's auras completely. She couldn't sense her master in the least. It took all of her years of high aristocratic training to keep her patience intact. Patience was a virtue, as she had been taught from a young age. Until very recently, it hadn't been one that she had found trouble in keeping. Ever since she had met Carth and Bastila aboard the Death Star, however, it had become increasingly difficult.

"Princess!" one of the few remaining soldiers cried out excitedly. "There are people coming!"

Leia glanced up from the dirt patch on the ground that she had been staring at, towards the young man that had called to her. He was scrambling towards something, which was obscured from sight due to one of the large hills that surrounded the cave they had been set to guard. Nonetheless, the princess could sense the presence of at least three people coming towards them. Her blaster flew from her belt to her hand as she rushed to follow her trooper. This was not what she needed right now. If the Sith raided them again, she wasn't sure if she would be able to fend them off without Bastila and Revan. The Dark Lord had provided most of their protection over the last several days and now that he was gone, they were vulnerable. Despite her fear, she would do as her master would have wanted. She would fight to the very end.

Making her way to the top of the hill where her soldiers were now waiting, blasters trained in a general direction, she silently prayed to the Force for guidance. Then, as she reached the top of the hill, not even seeing the trio approaching yet, she cried out the word "Stop!"

They did. An unlikely group of people were standing in front of the Rebels, arms raised in a submissive form. "We're Rebels, like you!" one of them, a middle aged man with dark brown hair called out, his voice raspy for some odd reason.

"Thank the Force," the Rebel senator sighed with relief as she instantly recognized the party.

Carth Onasi looked up as he heard the young woman's voice and smiled. "Leia?" he asked as he recognized her.

"Stand down," the princess ordered her men. "They're friends!"

Quickly, all four of the remaining soldiers lowered their blasters and stood back. Leia, on the other hand, began to walk forward, approaching Carth Onasi, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Jedi Master Yoda with a bright smile on her lips. The three looked like they had been through hell and back over the last two weeks. Neither of the humans had had a chance to shave, resulting in thick, untidy beards a that needed to be removed. Carth's normally pristine orange flight jacket had been stained with mud and what looked like blood so many times that it was now a dingy brown color. There was also a scorch mark that had blackened a small portion of the garment along the rib area. Obi-Wan's Jedi robes had suffered a similar fate. The velvety brown color was now a dank gray hue that was none to pleasing to look upon.

A combination of the hot sun and constant attacks had weighed down on the two heavily. The flight jacket and thick robes might as well have been weighted for the way the two walked. Obi-Wan, despite his Force increased vitality for a man his age, was not faring well. Yoda seemed to be even worse, however. He had shed his outer robe some time ago and was dressed only in the thinnest layer possible. His green skin had taken on a moldy color, which was drenched in sweat. Furthermore, he didn't appear to be able to walk at all. At the moment, he had his arms wrapped around Carth's neck and was riding the pilot as a means of transport.

"Are you three alright?" Leia inquired upon meeting them.

"Ran out of provisions two days ago," the pilot said, his voice raspy from an apparent lack of water.

"Kaled!" Leia called out to one of her men. "Bring me the spare canteens!" She turned back to the three of them. "Have the Sith been bothering you?" Carth simply nodded grimly.

"It wasn't a problem until yesterday. Yoda collapsed mid-fight during one of the raids," he explained to her. If it wasn't for Obi-Wan, we'd all be dead now.

"What happened?"

"He's sick," Obi-Wan stated. "He needs medical attention, quickly"

"Sick?" Leia repeated. "With what?"

"It's most likely an infection he contracted on Dagobah," the older man responded as he took his former master from Carth's back and cradled him. "He's been asleep for nearly six hours. The disease is taking its toll on him."

"Will he make it?"

"I don't know," was the simple answer.

Kenobi simply walked by Leia and started towards the cave, leaving Leia and Carth alone together. The two looked at each other before embracing shortly. "I've been worried about you," the Alderaan princess confessed. "We haven't heard from you since... the crash."

"What about Revan?" he asked, shrugging off her sentimental welcome for a more business like conversation. He frowned instantly as he saw her features darken. "Where is he?"

The soldier, Kaled, quickly walked up to Leia, handing her a brown canteen, which she in turn passed on to Carth. He accepted it gratefully and began to drink its contents greedily. The cold liquid passed down his throat in an almost euphoric manner, soothing most of his aches and pains in a placebo manner. Once he had downed all of its contents, he dropped the empty container and turned back to the princess.

"In there," she answered his question ruefully as she pointed at the cave. "He went with Bastila to explore."

"What's in there?" he asked her as he started towards it.

"I don't know," she replied darkly. "Revan and Bastila sensed something inside of the cave. They went to explore."

"Together?" Carth asked aghast.

Leia nodded. "I warned her against it but she said that it was safe because of their bond. Revan won't hurt her."

"I don't believe that for a second," he thundered angrily. "How naïve could she be?"

"One's mind is often clouded by the effects of a Force bond, Carth," Obi-Wan stated as he came back over to where the two of them stood. "Nonetheless, Bastila should have known better than to go anywhere alone with someone as dangerous as Revan. Perhaps it would be best to go in after her."

The three looked at each other and nodded. "Will Master Yoda be alright by himself for awhile?" the princess asked.

"It can do no more harm," the sagely Jedi Master responded.

"Obi-Wan, you're just as tired as Yoda. You need to rest. Leia and I will go in after Bastila but you should stay here."

"Bah," the old man answered with a vicious wave of his arm. "I believe you will need my help inside. The Force is strong inside of that cave. Bastila was right to follow her feelings. I fear, however, that she may have done so too hastily."

"But-," the former Republic soldier began.

"This is not an argument that we are going to have," he cut in curtly. "Let's go."

As Obi-Wan moved into the mouth of the naturally Force imbued cavern, the two younger Rebels cast weary glances at one another. This was going to become very difficult.


	20. Terentatek

**The Darkest Lord**

**Chapter XX: Terentatek**

An entire unit of Sith forces were on the move. As swiftly as they possibly could, the heavily armed forces that had been dispatched from the _Malevolence_ made their way across the sweeping plains of Naboo, their ever elusive targets slowly drawing nearer and nearer with each passing minute. The brutish ground forces, comprised mostly of grunt soldiers dressed in heavy gold armor marched onward, blaster rifles made from hybrid Imperial and Star Forge technology were clutched tightly in position as they stomped their metal lined combat boots into the receiving earth. The more fortunate soldiers, those who rode in hover crafts, speeders, swoops, and tanks remained hidden within the confines of their vehicles. Leading this treacherous march was none other than Luke Skywalker, the apprentice of Darth Malak in all but name.

The sandy haired Sith initiate had almost three hundred men and women backing him for this assault. Lord Malak had made it clear what he wanted done. The Rebels were to be sought out and exterminated. Darth Revan was to be executed and his head was to be returned back to the _Malevolence _as a trophy for his former student. Failure had a very high price to pay. Therefore, they would either die in the field of battle or would return to their master victorious. The young man would accept no other options, nor would his unforgiving master. The troops knew this too. He had made it perfectly clear when one of the younger, stupider soldiers had dared to question the two choices. Therefore, those that now followed were prepared to lay down their lives before returning to the Dark Lord of the Sith empty handed.

As they drew nearer, Luke could sense the presence of those that he had known once upon a time drawing nearer. Bastila Shan was no where to be found within the beating currents of the Force, nor was Darth Revan for that matter. Princess Leia was still there but her aura too was growing more difficult to sense. The only Jedi whose light side alignment still shone well enough to act as a beacon for the young man was Obi-Wan Kenobi. This was fortunate. Despite the fact that Malak had canceled the assassination order on his student's other master, Luke still felt that he had a score to settle with the old hermit before he progressed to killing Revan. Kenobi had tricked him. Stories of the glory of the Jedi and his father's legacy had been enough to lure the poor farmer into this war but Exar Kun had shown him the error of the Jedi way. He could see the deception and knew that Ben was simply using him to further his own means, as the Jedi Order had always done before its fall.

His pale blue eyes registered smoke on the horizon, billowing into the air before him. It wasn't the sort of smoke made by blasters or weapons of destruction though. The small black billows were those of a simple camping fire. A smirk cracked across his ashen lips and he folded his arms in satisfaction. The man who had been little more than a moisture farmer just a few short months ago was now an intimidating sight to behold. He stood atop one of the massive black and gray battle tanks that rolled forward to crush the Sith's opposition, dressed in his black Dark Jedi robes. The outer robe that most of the Sith and Dark Jedi favored had been replaced in favor of a simple hooded black cloak, which was draped neatly around his shoulders. The deep brown gloves and boots he wore had been fashioned from the hide of a young dewback, making them soft and flexible, yet durable at the same time. The utility belt that he wore around his waist held various gadgets and devices of all shapes and sizes. Most of them were weapons or instruments of destruction. The shaft of his father's old lightsaber dangled menacingly at his hip, swaying back and forth as the wind pressed against the former padawan's frame.

The intimidating effect was an effective one. When a group of lowly hunters saw the small army rolling towards them, drawn in by the sight of their campfire, Luke Skywalker was the first thing they noticed. Poised at the very front of the Sith company, he acted as the figurehead. The Sith began to rain blaster fire down on the poor hunters before any of them could act Several were instantly killed in the process, whilst many more were injured. The few unscathed survivors of the first strike all targeted the same individual: Luke. It made no difference though. Most of the shots missed him completely and the few that came near him were deflected by his lightsaber, which was active in the blink of an eye.

The humming sound of his blade resonated through the air as he leapt from his tank, towards the three survivors. Using the Makashi lightsaber form that he had learned from Exar Kun, the Sith student cut down all three before they knew what had happened. Three corpses dropped to the ground with a thud and the gruesome odor of burnt flesh filled the air. Luke's finger depressed the activation button on his lightsaber, causing the azure blade to withdraw into the shell. As he did this, he looked down at the dozen or so dead hunters. His eyes flicked from face to face. None of them were among the list of targets to be assassinated. He turned back to his men and shook his head.

"It's not them," he reported. "We need to keep looking."

As he finished speaking, the sound of a ship entering the atmosphere broke out across the plain. All of the Sith looked up. A medium sized freighter had broken through the Sith blockade and was now being pursued by four Star Forge snub fighters. Luke instantly recognized the _Millennium Falcon _as the small smuggling freighter soared overhead, too fixated on the danger behind it to notice the more serious danger below.

Whomever was controlling the _Falcon's _guns, presumably Han Solo, was an expert marksman, even using computerized laser technology in place of the simple point and shoot technique utilized when wielding a basic blaster. Within just a few seconds, the gunner had managed to destroy three of the ships and land a shot on the forth that sent it spiraling towards the ground. The sound of its crash was heard by all.

"Sir," one of the senior officers called out from the front line. "They're well within our range. Shall we take it out of the sky?" The crimson armored Sith commander inquired as he raised his hand, prepared to give the signal to the nearest tank.

"No," he answered as he watched the ship he had once traveled on soar into the distance. "Follow it. They'll lead us to the Jedi!"

"Commander Skywalker, they'll notice us for sure if we follow them. Our force is too large," the soldier pointed out with a gesticulation towards the series of tanks, land cruisers, and soldiers behind him.

Luke nodded in agreement. "Good point," he conceded. "I'll move ahead. I want all of the Dark Jedi with me. The rest of you, remain here. I'll send coordinates when we've located the Jedi."

"Yes sir," the commander said as he snapped off a typical Sith salute.

Luke ignored the gesture and waited for the order to be passed on to all of the Dark Jedi within the group. Not a minute later, he was flanked by eight Dark Jedi, each dressed in the typical gray suit and black hood that Revan had required his grunt Jedi to where when he had been in command. "Move fast. If you're left behind, the main forces will kill you when the move to join us," he said harshly. "Now let's go!"

With a burst of Force enhanced speed, Luke Skywalker bolted after the _Millennium Falcon, _which was inadvertently leading them right to their target.

"Terentatek," Revan said triumphantly as he crossed his arms, looking down at Bastila Shan, who knelt beside him as the pair looked into the lair of a very large and very real terentatek.

"By the Force," the young Jedi whispered softly as she looked up at her bond mate. "Can you sense the power coming from that thing?"

He nodded darkly as he looked at the hulking creature. He knew the power of the terentatek well. During his first days as a Lord of the Sith, he had researched all of the different races and creatures created through Sith Alchemy in the hopes that he would be able to mutate human soldiers into something more. The terentatek had a particularly dark origin. While the Great Sith War raged through the galaxy and Ulic Qel-Drama tore through the Republic, the dark side of the Force became increasingly more potent on war struck planets. The dark side had perverted a young clutch of rancor on the jungle moon of Yavin IV, where Exar Kun had built the tomb that he one day planned to rest in for all eternity. Kun, having sensed the mutation in the eggs, took advantage of it. Using his knowledge of Sith Alchemy, he twisted their DNA even further and made them into what would later be known as terentateks.

As a side effect on the new DNA coding inside of them, the creatures' growth became stunted. They were never able to grow to the same size as a full grown rancor, as their creator had hoped. Unfortunately they were still quite large when compared to a human and their lack of size made them no easier to kill. In fact, based purely on experience, Revan was willing to wager that it was more difficult to kill a mature terentatek than it was to put down a fully developed rancor.

During the mutation, the rancor's hide became much thicker, making the terentatek almost impossible to harm. Its dense exterior was capable of shrugging off most blasters and even lightsabers were ineffective unless they penetrated deeply. And, since Kun had intended to use his monstrous brain-children to slaughter the Jedi, he had planned ahead. Upon overloading the rancor clutch with enough dark side energy, he made them practically immune to it. Typical beast tricks didn't work worth a damn. Lifting a terentatek was impossible, due to both the physical mass and weight, along with the fact that it was mentally conditioned to fight back. When first fighting one of these animal's, Revan had believed that only his ability to generate electricity into the air with the Force would be sufficient to lay it to rest. He was wrong. The nearly impenetrable hide that could resist blasters and Jedi sabers could also resist electrical burns. The perfect Jedi killer. Damn near un-killable some people had said.

Thankfully, the myths had exaggerated that last detail. In his experience, the easiest way to slay such a beast was to either use heavy explosives or pierce its brain with something. Having only a few grenades and mines on hand, both of which were capable of causing a cave in if detonated, Revan elected the second option. Lifting his lightsaber, which was still being used as a torch for the young Bastila, he proceeded into the nest.

The beast was living in a large, open cavern within the cave, which was littered with the bones of those unfortunate enough to have wandered into the cave, giving the deposed Lord of the Sith plenty of room to face it. The constant humming of his lightsaber attracted the attention of the creature's misshapen, though very sensitive, ears. It turned to see a human approaching on foot, though all that registered within its primal mind was that there was fresh meat to feast on. The terentatek howled as Revan continued to walk towards it at a casual pace. It started towards him, stomping forward slowly with its two overgrown and bulky legs.

This terentatek, unlike most that he had known during the wars, was slow. It had consumed too many helpless wanders for its own good. The extra fat had accumulated mainly in the gullet and thigh-like area, which hampered its movement tremendously. Noting this particular weakness, Revan felt no need to rush himself. Agility was on his side. When the beast swung a sluggish arm at him, it took little effort to dive aside and watch it crack the dirt ground beneath it.

"You could help," he suggested to Bastila from afar as he gambled a glance in her direction.

Bastila snorted as she stood up and grabbed the saberstaff from her belt. Both ends ignited simultaneously as the sun colored blades spewed forth with a _snap-hiss_. Goading her into fighting probably wasn't the wisest of choices on Revan's part though. She was young and a powerful Jedi but she didn't know the slightest bit about fighting a terentatek. Exar Kun's twisted creations took a special kind of skill to kill, one that was learned, not picked up. Therefore, all Revan could do was smack his own forehead when she tried to use a simple Force push to throw it off balance.

Sensing a disturbance in the Force, the terentatek turned its gaze on the arrogant young Jedi and howled. Its screech was deafening and Bastila winced at the very sound as it pierced her ears. Even Revan, who had heard the sound before, cringed when it began to echo in his ear drums. Bastila had done what he needed her to do though. Now that its back was to him, he rushed towards it, using the Force to enhance the swiftness of his pace, and leapt into the air. His lightsaber came down in one fluid motion, penetrating the hide of its back and severing one of the jagged spines that ran up the notochord. Another, more pained shriek was unleashed. The beam of the blade had penetrated enough of the hide to reach the soft skin beneath and breach the cell membrane that protected it. Judging by the angle of impact, Revan could only assume that he had managed to nick one of the creature's three lungs.

That wouldn't be sufficient though. Unlike humanoid sentient creatures, a terentatek only needed one lung in order to filter oxygen through the body properly. Having barely seared one of the three breathing organs was no where near sufficient to tackle the beast. It was, however, more than enough to infuriate it. The terentatek began to shake violently, trying to throw its attacker off of its back. Revan was forced to abandon his lightsaber, which was hilt deep in the animal's back, and cling to one of its spines for dear life. He cried out in surprise as he was whipped around, back and forth, while Bastila simply stood there, unsure of what she could do to help him.

"Kill it!" he screamed. She hesitated. Her active lightsaber was still in her hand but it felt useless after she had seen how it was unaffected by Revan's. "Kill it now!" he shouted as it flailed again.

"How?" she asked uncertainly as she rolled out of the stampeding terentatek's way, allowing it to crash into a nearby wall. The wall was enough to jolt Revan loose and he hit the ground heavily. A loud crack resonated from his chest area and the Dark Lord was certain that he had broken multiple ribs. He swore violently as he got to his feet, pushing the pain out of his mind. The Jedi was worthless. He needed to kill this beast himself. The only problem was that his lightsaber was still stuck in the animal's back. He was unarmed and would have no way of retrieving it so long as it kept moving. Without a fixed point to concentrate on, yanking to weapon out of the terentatek's would be impossible.

As it started towards Bastila, Revan began to scan the room for something to use to his advantage. There were several boulders located throughout the room which would make fine bludgeons. Selecting one, he raised his arm and flicked his wrist upward. A particularly large rock was plucked up into the air and went flying towards the raging mutant being as the former Jedi Knight swung his wrist towards it. The terentatek saw the oncoming stone and batted it away as easily as Revan could deflect blaster bolts with his saber. The attack was enough to distract it from Bastila however and she used the opportunity to throw her lightsaber at it. Not seeing or sensing the attack, the terentatek was struck by the spinning saberstaff, which only managed to graze the surface of its tough exterior.

The two needed a new plan. Its immunity to both lightsabers and Force powers made it a Jedi's most deadly foe. The only other option they had was to turn to more conventional weaponry. The problem was that they were in short supply. Bastila, being the prissy Jedi that she was, had elected only to carry her lightsaber as a weapon, which she was now in the process of recovering, despite the terentatek's efforts to swat the flying beams of light out of the air. Revan, being a bit more practical minded, had a blaster with him, which would be of no use against Exar Kun's warped creation, and a small stash of grenades and frag mines that he had collected from dead Sith over the last few days. Neither of the explosives really filled the deposed Sith Lord with confidence. It was unlikely that they would even harm it and more importantly, they could pose a serious risk to both himself and his bondmate. A cave in could trap the two and he did not particularly fancy the idea of suffocating to death with only Bastila Shan as his companion.

"Bastila!"

The name rang out through the nest, reverberating off of the rock walls, and back onto the two inside. Both Revan and Bastila looked towards the mouth of the terentatek's nest. Two lightsaber's, one a soft sky blue and the other a deep crimson, illuminated three rescuers who had come to their aid. Obi-Wan Kenobi and Princess Leia held their weapons high, while Carth Onasi was crouched down in front of them, twin blasters pointed at the animal. The pilot began to fire off blaster bolts on the terentatek, which had no effect on it, other than blackening the surface of its skin.

"Blasters won't work, Onasi!" Revan warned him as the terentatek turned on the three new arrivals.

"Do something!" Bastila screamed at Revan as she watched the beast rage towards her student, friend, and master.

Using Force enhanced speed, the deposed Sith Lord rushed towards the terentatek, leaping onto its back a second time so that he could retrieve his new weapon. He landed too low, however, and found himself closer to the tail than the shoulder, where his weapon was buried.

Seeing a giant beast rushing at them, the trio had the common sense to roll out of the way. Obi-Wan went to the right, while Leia and Carth went left. Carth continued to fire worthlessly at the terentatek, while Leia stood back with her stolen saber held high. "What do we do?" she called out.

_Thump!_

Revan slammed into the ground for a second time and a piercing agony laced through his side, reminding him of the injury he had already sustained whilst fighting this thing. The Dark Lord groaned as he forced himself to his feet. "Leia!" he grunted as he pulled his grenade belt free from his waist. "Trade!" He threw her the belt, which held four spherical shaped brown devices before she tossed him the crimson sword that she had taken from Darth Vader. Revan caught the weapon and decided that he wanted to hurt this animal as much as he could before he killed it. Drawing a mine from one of the many pockets on his belt, he pressed a small button and threw it onto the ground in front of him. A red light flipped on as it hit the ground before three metal claws burrowed into the dirt. Once they were done, the light turned green and the mine was armed.

"Come on!" he screamed at the beast, throwing random bursts of invisible Force energy at it in order to catch the terentatek's attention.

The beast howled, though it ignored Revan and turned to fresher meat. Leia and Carth went wide eyed as Exar Kun's creation stampeded towards them, razor sharp teeth glittering as drool dripped from its mouth.

"You, Jedi!" Revan called out as he indicated Obi-Wan. "Stay where you are. I'm going to send it your way. Bastila, be ready to jump on it on my mark." With that, Revan took off after the slow creature. Using his borrowed saber, he struck the terentatek's hulking thigh as he rolled between its legs. Jumping back up, he applied three quick slashes across the chest area before using the Force to send tendrils of lightning streaking across its front. The attacks probably didn't inhibit it in anyway but Revan could tell from the screaming that they hurt like hell. He took his chance to roll between its legs and apply a wide stroke of his lightsaber to the tail.

The terentatek howled in misery as it felt its tail disengage from its body and fly away. The putrid scent of burnt terentatek flesh wisped through the air. Having dealt with much more disgusting smells in his time, Revan had little trouble pushing it to the back of his mind, where the pain from his broken ribs still sat idly. Bastila, on the other hand, dropped her defenses and cupped her nose, while Leia turned away entirely.

"Bastila, get ready!" he screamed as he ran towards her.

The enraged creature spun around, dead set on killing Revan now. Revan spun around once he was next to his bondmate and turned back. The beast was upon them within moments. Smirking, Revan leapt into the air and landed on the creature's massive snout, grabbing one of its horned spikes for support. The creature threw its head back in an attempt to throw it off and Bastila suddenly realized why Revan had lured it to her. The neck, where the skin seemed to be soft and vulnerable, was clearly exposed. Using the Force, she jumped up and rammed one end of her lightsaber directly into the terentatek's neck.

One part of his two pronged plan was complete. Bastila had done well. Now it was his turn to fulfill his portion of the attack. Reversing his grip on Leia's stolen lightsaber, he plunged the blade deep into the skull of the terentatek, burying the saber in the brain. With an unearthly howl, the creature began raging back and forth, trying in its final moments to kill its killers. With its dying throws, it swiped at Bastila, who back flipped away at the last moment. Abandoning Leia's saber in the dying beast's head, Revan jumped off, landing in a crouch some distance away. He stood up and turned to watch Exar Kun's dying pet.

With one last pitiful moan, the terentatek collapsed, slamming into the ground and causing the entire cave to rumble. As it happened, the beast had fallen onto the mine that Revan had planted in the ground not two minutes beforehand. The soft chirping sound of the device activating could be heard from beneath its heavy form and then the body jolted violently. The monster's weight had absorbed most of the blast, leaving very little visible for the Rebels who had slain it. Dirt surrounding the dying body had been displaced and a few chunks of meat were kicked up into the air but that was all.

Obi-Wan glanced around nervously, fearful that the cave could start to come down around their ears. Thankfully, the force of impact from the terentatek's collapse wasn't nearly enough to destabilize the old rock structures around them.

Revan walked towards the dead animal with a critical eye. It would be just his luck to discover that it wasn't really dead while his guard was down. His senses told him that it was in fact deceased though, so he felt fairly secure being near it. Grabbing one in each hand, he pulled both of the active sabers out of the terentatek's hide. Holding both of them aloft, he turned to the company around him. The sight wasn't a pleasing one. Obi-Wan, Leia, and Carth were all facing him, ready to kill him if he made so much as a single wrong move. Both of the Repunlic soldier's blaster pistols were trained on him, whilst Leia held the very grenades he had given to her up. Obi-Wan stood in his own personalized version of the Soresu opening stance, lightsaber in the air.

"Stop right there," Carth Onasi ordered. "Drop the lightsabers!"

Revan smirked. "Fire at me and you'll be dead less than a second after the bolt leaves the blaster."

Carth stood resolutely, confident that Obi-Wan and Bastila could impede his Jedi abilities long enough. They, however, were not so sure. Bastila approached the others and stood behind Revan. "Stop," she told them softly. "Put down your weapons. We're perfectly safe."

"What?" Carth's jaw dropped and his brown eyes widened.

"Revan won't harm us so long as he and I are connected through the Force," the young Jedi Knight explained. "So put your weapons away. Leia, do as I say!"

Leia did as he master instructed, though she still didn't feel comfortable doing so. Obi-Wan, not being one to attack first and ask questions later, depressed the activation switch of his weapon. The blue-white blade retracted into the shaft of the hilt and the illumination within the room decreased. Carth wasn't about to back down, however. He kept his weapons up, despite his apparent lack of backup.

"Put them down," Revan said softly as he approached the soldier calmly.

Carth made the mistake. He fired three shots at Revan, each one precisely aimed to strike a vital area of his anatomy. The Sith Lord had little trouble using both lightsabers to deflect the shots. Despite this, he was not a forgiving man. Tossing the crimson blade aside, he leapt at Carth, using the Force to wrench his weapons from his hands. Using only his bare hand, Revan grabbed his attacker by the neck and hoisted him up into the air. He pulled the cerulean saber back threateningly, brandishing it as if he would use it to kill off the man. His amber colored eyes shone with bloodlust, making Carth keenly aware that his death would have no moral effect on the psychopath that held him.

"Revan, stop!" Bastila screamed as she rushed towards him. The Jedi grabbed the Sith Lord's arm and tried to hold back the lightsaber but he was still physically stronger than her. "Please," she pleaded. "Don't do it!"

Revan glanced down at the young girl and saw the fear in her eyes. He frowned. The look of terror was not new to him. He had seen it hundreds of times in the eyes of men, women, and children across the galaxy. Normally, he relished seeing it. Fear was not only, in its basic form, a type of respect, but it was also something that could be used. To show fear was to show weakness and weakness was one of the easiest things in the galaxy to exploit. That being said, why did it bother him to see that Bastila was terrified? His molten amber eyes flicked back at Carth, who had already decided, as a soldier should, that he would face death with valor and honor. His death would be respectable. Commendable even. Despite the fall of the Republic, Carth Onasi was still one of its champions, while he, Revan, was one of its greatest enemies. He would have died fighting for his people and for their memory.

"Don't you see," Bastila murmured to him, having picked up on his train of thought through their shared link. "You've become the very thing you hate. If you justify killing him like that, then you are no better than the Mandalorians!"

"Mandalorians?" he whispered as he looked at Carth. His grip on Carth's throat slackened until he deposited the oxygen deprived soldier on the stone ground. She was correct. He was becoming too much of the thing that he had despised. His war with the Republic had always been to make it a stronger place; a place that wouldn't need the Jedi in order to survive. Killing Carth Onasi would be, in the most callous of terms, counterproductive. He was blind to the Force, yet he was strong. Men like him were what made up the Republic that the Dark Lord had once envisioned. With that in mind, he turned to the others. "I sense that help has arrived outside of the cave. We had best get there before they kill each other."

Outside the cave, two different vessels, each with similar intentions, had landed. The first was a YT-1300 light freighter, captained by Han Solo and his first mate, Chewbacca. The second was a typical Sith Interdictor shuttle, which had been stolen from the Sith fleet's flagship by Darth Revan's former master, Darth Traya. The space smuggler and the Wookiee stood opposite the Dark Lady, with the few surviving Rebels that had followed Princess Leia backing the two as opposed to the one. Han Solo held his DL-44 blaster, though it remained in the thigh holster, while Chewbacca had already charged the power cells of his blaster rifle and pointed it at the Sith woman.

"I suggest you put those toys down now," she ordered tersely as she gesticulated with her one good hand.

"Both of you, stop!" a voice from within the cave cried out.

Everyone turned to the mouth of the cave to see Revan, Bastila, Carth, Leia, and Obi-Wan all emerge briskly. Revan, taking charge of the situation, simply gestured towards his old master. Traya glowered at him darkly, somewhat offended that he would interfere with her actions. The scruffy smuggler that had challenged her was an arrogant sod. It would have very much pleased her to break him before her old apprentice intervened. Nonetheless, she folded her arms and simply stepped back in compliance with the Dark Lord's orders.

Han Solo and Chewbacca were less inclined to do as commanded. Seeing Revan, Han reacted in much the same manner as Carth Onasi had and opened fire. With speed unseen by most of the men around, Revan drew his cerulean lightsaber and deflected all three blaster bolts fired.

"Han!" Leia cried as she rushed towards him and grabbed his blaster arm. "Stop! We don't have time for this!"

"I should say not," Traya commented as she stepped forward so that she was directly behind Revan. Everyone watched as the Dark Lady whispered something into her leader's ear and saw an alarm go off in his mind. His eyes widened and he turned to look at her in shock.

"How many?" he asked.

"Enough to kill everyone here," she answered cryptically. "I suggest that we flee for now. Powerful as you are, you do not have the strength to contest sheer numbers."

While he was distracted by the old woman that had shown up, Revan's guard was down. Han Solo smirked, seeing this as the perfect chance to retaliate. He raised his blaster again but Leia was on him in a heartbeat. She grabbed his wrist and although she was not strong enough, physically, to stop him, it did hinder his actions.

"Stop," she pleaded.

Han looked at her in surprise. "What has been going on since I left?" he inquired in bewilderment.

"I'll explain later," she responded.

"We need to move, now!" Revan snapped suddenly at everyone else.

"Why?" Carth asked suspiciously.

"Sith forces on the way. Nearly three hundred soldiers and more than enough artillery to take us all out. Traya and I will bid you all farewell. The rest of you should get on that freighter and get out of here."

"What?" Leia cried out.

"You're not going anywhere!" Carth shouted at the Sith Lord as he started towards him.

"Step away from him!" Traya thundered as the pilot was hurled backwards into the ground before he could even reach Revan. Turning away from the insolent soldier, she turned back to her apprentice. "And I am afraid you are mistaken," she told him dourly. "We need to use their ship to escape as well."

"Why?"

"Malak's new apprentice had his men open fire on me. An ion cannon struck my ship. I'm afraid that the hyperdrive is offline."

"Typical," the Dark Lord scoffed. He turned back to the others and offered Carth a grim chuckle as the slightly older man stood up. Then he turned to the others. "What are your orders, Commander Shan?" he inquired as he reverted back to his "Rebel" status and deactivated his lightsaber.

Bastila looked around. "If the Sith are on their way here, they're sure to attack Theed. It's not safe to rendezvous with the others there," she stated. "Everyone will travel aboard the _Millennium Falcon. _We'll send warning to Theed Palace to evacuate but from there, there's nothing else we can do for them."

"And where will we go?" Traya asked doubtfully.

Bastila paused. She honestly had no idea. Since the attack on their fleet, she had no idea where the Rebel forces had relocated to and she didn't honestly know of any other safe havens at the moment. Her uncertainty was evident but luckily, Han stepped up with a suggestion. "I know a place where we'll be safe," he stated. "Everyone get aboard the ship."

"Where is it?" Obi-Wan asked uncertainly.

"You're just going to have to trust me on this one, old man," the smuggler told the Jedi Master. "Now let's go."

The surviving Rebels started towards the _Millennium Falcon, _but Traya paused, glancing at the shuttle one last time. "What is it?" Revan asked her, never knowing his master to be sentimental over abandoning something as common as a simple shuttle.

"You may come out now," the Sith Lady stated with a smirk, anxious to see her apprentice's reaction.

Indeed, the response she received was exactly as she had pictured it. A wide smile, genuine and mirthful, broke out over Revan's lips as a rust colored protocol droid stepped out of the shuttle. "Oh my," it stated upon seeing Revan beside Traya. "The master has returned. Thank the maker!" it exclaimed.

Revan rolled his eyes and sent a wayward glance at his master. "Really?" he asked her in a somewhat exasperated tone.

"It suited me better than the programming put into it when you left it with me," she remarked as she turned and started towards the _Millennium Falcon._

Revan turned back to the droid and sighed, shaking his head darkly. Bastila, who had seen the droid emerge from the shuttle, came up to her bondmate. "What is this?" she asked him curiously.

"An old friend," he answered with a smile. He turned and addressed the droid. "HK-47, override protocol functions. Activate automatic reboot and deactivate memory core block. I am Revan, your one and only true master."

The droid's red photoreceptors went dim for a moment as all programs and processes within the machine stopped. A moment later, the droid looked up again and the photoreceptors began to flash brightly.

"Statement: HK-47, running diagnostic. All hardware seems to be adequate. Program Assessment: Combat protocols, functional. Stealth protocols, functional. Assassination protocols, functional. This HK-47 unit seems to be in perfect condition." The droid looked straight at Revan. "Statement: Ah Master, it is wonderful to see you again. Query: Is there someone you need killed?"

Bastila's eyes went wide at the question, though it only made Revan chuckle deeply. Despite the rocky beginnings and battle to the death with a terentatek, this was shaping up to be one of his first good days in a long time.

"Lord Malak, they've escaped," Luke Skywalker reported over the radio comm. channel between his team and the _Malevolence._ There was a pause as his master processed the information and sighed deeply. Sensing his master's anger, Luke could only assume that the nearest officer aboard the ship was being killed. After several moments, Malak finally responded.

"Return to my ship with your team, Skywalker. Orbital bombardment of Naboo will take place as soon as the ships are in position."

"Yes Lord Malak," Luke answered before shutting off his comm.

Aboard the ship, Malak turned away from the dead man that was lying in front of him and back to the glass window through which he was able to see the entire planet. "You are clever, Revan," he stated, curious as to how a freighter could have slipped by the Sith fleet's orbital cannons unnoticed. Revan did not have the power alone to cloak an entire vessel by himself. Other Jedi must have joined with him in order to do this. It mattered not though. While he knew that his master would feel no remorse for the death of the planet, his companions would. From afar, the Lord of Malice would tear the Rebels away from his old friend, leaving him stranded and without options.

"You are mine, old friend," he stated darkly. "Mine."


	21. Flight

**The Darkest Lord  
Chapter XXI: Flight**

All in the exact same moment, Darth Revan, Darth Traya, Bastila Shan, Princess Leia, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and the barely conscious Master Yoda were suddenly startled by a disturbance in the Force. Appearing like a jolt of static electricity sparking upon the mind, the sensation was a horrible one. It felt as if someone with a very shrill voice had suddenly screamed into the Force at the top of his or her lungs, temporarily deafening those sensitive to it to everything except the sharp ringing sound that accompanied such a noise. The pain that it felt could only be described as excruciating. It echoed through the energy field that bound existence together and reverberated in the minds of those who could hear it.

Master Yoda jolted awake in response to the disturbance and studied his surroundings for a moment. The sagely Jedi Master's normally glassy eyes looked glazed over and distant, barely perceiving what they took in. He moaned slightly when he attempted to lift his head a little higher but found that this couldn't be done. Obi-Wan, sighing, pulled his cloak, which currently served as a blanket, back over his former master's shoulders from where it had fallen. This gesture seemed to soothe the old Jedi and he promptly rested his head back on the seat that he that he had chosen to use as a bed. Whether or not he fell back to sleep was impossible to determine, though his pupil could only hope that he had. Pain wracked his body, regardless of consciousness or a lack thereof. At least it would be more distant when Yoda slept. This, at least, became the story Obi-Wan concocted in his mind to assuage his guilt.

Why did the old Jedi Guardian feel guilt when he looked upon the dying alien? Not even he knew. Yoda, now almost a millennia old, had lived what could only be considered a full life. He trained dozens of Jedi over the centuries, including some of the finest and most revered people to ever sit on the Jedi High Council. He had found true peace within the Force, despite the evils and perversions that went on in the galaxy around him. More to the point, there had been no event or action in Obi-Wan's life that had led his master to this pitiful state. The disease had not infected him as a result of the human Jedi's doings. Guilt didn't belong to Obi-Wan. Nonetheless, he felt powerless to stop the oncoming death that would soon take his old friend. Ah Powerlessness. He knew Powerlessness well, like a poor man knows hunger or a crippled man knows pain. For all the power that the Force granted to him, he still remained powerless. He had not had the power to stop Anakin Skywalker from falling to the dark side and dying, allowing Darth Vader to be born. He did not have the power to stop his former apprentice from wiping Alderaan from existence. Now, he felt the exact same way as he meditated on the future, fearful of his master's death, despite the Jedi teachings to embrace the end as merely a new beginning. He could not do this. It was too difficult for a broken old man such as he. Sighing, he looked away from Yoda, intent on turning his mind to other things.

Princess Leia looked sympathetically at the dying Jedi Master, keenly aware of how much it looked like Obi-Wan were caring for a sick pet. She had read a novel once in which a man, a farmer by trade, bought a young kath hound pup to work on the farm. The farmer trained him and developed a connection with his hound, which became an unbreakable friendship. Some years later, the rain didn't come and the crops dried out. Unable to pay his dues, the farmer lost his farm and everything he owned. All that he had left in the galaxy was his kath hound. The two slummed around for close to two years, just trying to get by, until one day, the kath hound broke its leg. The former farmer had no way of paying for medical attention for his friend and so, he had no alternative but to shoot the kath hound, putting it out of its misery. At the moment, the look on Obi-Wan's face reminded Leia so much of what she had pictured the old farmer to look like when he realized that he had too put down his friend. It wrenched at her heart to see the old man her father had once served with seem so distraught.

Bail Organa had told her very little of General Kenobi, except that the two had known each other during the Clone Wars and that the Jedi Master had tried to stop the formation of the Empire in its first few hours. His description of Kenobi as a powerful warrior and a master swordsman had always made her think of him as a hero of sorts; the kind a child sees in holos. It was funny, in a way, to see how different the legend and the man truly were from one another. Pushing that cruel thought aside, the Rebel senator looked down at the meager meat ration that was sitting on a tray in her lap. Setting it aside, Leia stood up and walked out of the room, leaving the two Jedi Masters alone with R2.

Inside of the cargo hold, Revan continued to contemplate the disturbance that still rippled in the air about him. Twice before he had felt such agony flow through the Force. The first time had been during the fledgling stage of his Sith Empire, back in his own time. Having given Malak the order to subdue Telos, the Lord of Malice wiped out the entire planet, killing more than eighty percent of its population. The second time had been just upon his arrival in this time, when he had first appeared in the Alderaan system that had no Alderaan. "I know this feeling," he stated as he turned to his master, who had been watching him meditate for the last several minutes. "But it's different this time...colder."

Traya raised an eyebrow, exposing only more of her fully black eyeball as if she actually saw the boy she had raised sitting before her. "Is it?" the Dark Lady inquired with genuine interest as a frown formed on her features. "You have walked the barren surface of Cathar, Revan, and the ruined paths of Malachor V. You should know well the feeling that screams now into the Force."

"Death," he whispered hoarsely, as if the concept was foreign to him. "The death of billions."

"Indeed," she answered him with a grim nod, wondering why this bothered him when it felt no different to her than it usually did when a planet died. Her lip curled into an amused smirk as she looked down at the fallen Jedi Knight she had once trained. "It is rare to see it affect you like this. Perhaps you are changing."

"No," he answered sharply as he stood up and moved to face her directly. He looked into those two black abyss-like orbs that she had once seen through. The ocean of darkness inside was not comforting, though he, in a way that only a son could, found refuge in it. Though in no way debilitated by the loss of her sight, Traya's eyes were worthless to her. That, strangely enough, was why Revan could look directly into them and hide from her as a scared child hides from its angry mother. He did this often when he feared that she may be getting too close to a subject he himself could not come up with a certain position or take on. At the moment, he could come up with no plausible explanation for why he had been caught off guard. Thus, he wanted her out of his mind. Thus, he hid. "I wasn't expecting it. That is all."

"Nor was I, but you can see that I do not feel the same discomfort that you do..."

"I-," he began before suddenly stopping. He didn't know what to say. His master had the distinct honor of being the one person he could not fool with lies or excuses. She knew him inside and out, mind, body, and soul. Ever since the day that she had found him on Derallia, she had known him better than his pitiful alcoholic mother or his boorish abusive father. Were it not for her, he would never had learned to listen to the currents of the Force; Never would he have risen within the ranks of both the Jedi and the Sith if she had not come along on that faithful day. The bond that the two shared as a result of this, while not forged by the Force itself, was stronger than that of the average master and student. The two had deep familial feelings for one another, making it impossible for Revan to hide his true thoughts from her for very long. As a result, he knew that it was pointless to lie to her. Therefore, he said nothing at all.

"The souls of millions are etched on your blade, Revan de Turk," she stated darkly. "Death has been your constant companion since the day that I met you. Now that Malak has stolen your throne, you should have been prepared to meet Death with same unwavering strength that you faced the Mandalorians with."

Revan hadn't heard her analogy. He hadn't heard her chastising remark. He had gone almost completely deaf after she had used his true name. "de Turk." He loathed that name; his father's name. Simply hearing it was enough to make him shiver and to make his blood run cold in his veins. "Don't use that name," he snarled at her angrily. "It is the name of a coward; a corrupt drug dealer who had no concept of anything in this galaxy except himself" he practically shouted as the anger poured from him. Turning his back on her, the deposed Sith Lord took a seat on the ground again and crossed his legs. Closing his eyes, he attempted to resume the meditation which the Force itself had interrupted. "Now leave me," he ordered calmly. "Your presence is distracting."

"Very well," the Sith Lady answered with a shrug before she turned on her heel and slipped out of the cargo hold. Bowing his head deeply, Revan opened his amber colored eyes again, letting the ruse of meditation die. He knew that it would be impossible for him to resume any level of deep, relaxed thought. Sighing, he leaned back onto his hands and began to simmer down. His anger accomplished nothing. Aside from being personally distracting and weakening, it had probably sent quite a shock to Bastila through their Force bond. What agitated him, though, was the fact that Traya wasn't wrong.

Once the brief spike of pointless anger had passed, he analyzed the words she had said after his name. The deposed Sith Lord could only conclude that his master was right. He should have been prepared to feel the effects of Malak's rule as Dark Lord. The disturbance that had roared into the currents of life were a mourning cry for the death of Naboo. Of that, he had no doubt. As he had ruthlessly razed Telos, Malak had now turned the guns of the Sith fleet onto the sovereign world and killed almost everyone on the surface. It went beyond that though. Killing the people had never been enough for Malak. The bald Sith Lord needed to do more to cripple the people who would try to rebuild. The bombs that had been dropped were sure to have contained some sort of biological agent that would render the planet uninhabitable for ages unless some sort of counter-acting teraforming process could reverse their effects. Therefore, when the millions that had died screamed into the Force, reaching those aboard the _Millennium Falcon, _their cry was accompanied by the anguish of the tortured planet.

"It was a coward's move, Malak," Revan seethed.

His apprentice had always preferred to fight from afar. Despite his unmatched sword skills and natural affinity for the Force, the Lord of Malice always elected to fight from a distance if possible. He relied on the crude, yet effective methods available when using blasters or guns. It was despicable. There was no honor in such a fight. And why wipe out Naboo anyways? The planet would have served the Sith better alive than dead. There was so much potential in worlds as civilized as the one that had just been demolished. Citizens made factory workers and developers. The planet's militia would have been converted into a Sith employed security force, taking orders only from official Sith officers. Food harvested from the fields could be rationed out to the armada. Why waste it all? There was no reason to do it!

"My Empire is being run by a genocidal maniac," he murmured as he stood up again and began to pace back and forth, as he tended to do when he felt conflicted. All that he had worked to build would be ruined if that deranged madman continued to rule in the fashion he currently did. Bombing resources was a big mistake and the day would come when it would cost Malak dearly. According to the Rebels, the Mandalorians, with whom Revan had initially negotiated, were now striking out on their own, conquering the worlds abandoned by the Empire whilst the armada defended Coruscant. That meant that the Sith and Mandalorian agreements had been severed upon Revan's exile. The Sith had only the men and women that they had brought forward in time with them and the few thousand that had been recruited from Alzac and any other worlds that had been conquered before the _Spirit of Revenge _had been destroyed. How could they hope to win when sheer numbers could overwhelm them if it ever came down to a direct conflict with the Rebels, the Empire, or the Mandalorians.

Revan needed to be smart if he ever hoped to emerge from this war victorious from any side. For all his power, he was only one man and one man with the entire galaxy against him was still just one man. Joining the Rebel Alliance was a start but the Dark Lord needed something else. Loyalty had always been something that he inspired in others, which probably had been one of the reasons it had been so easy to turn a third of the Republic's Navy against their military oaths in his name. The men that had followed him into battle during the wars would have laid down their lives for him and that was exactly the sort of loyalty he needed now. There were probably still those within the Sith Empire that would come to his aid should he call but it would be too dangerous to contact any of them right now. The Revanchist loyalists would need to remain anonymous for the time being, which meant that their leader would have to make do without them.

If the old followers could not be reached, then he would need new ones to train and convert. Hopefully he would be able to steal a transport when the _Millennium Falcon _reached its current destination, wherever that may have been. From there, a trip to Nar Shaddaa and other refuge worlds would provide him with at least a small militia with which he could work. He needed more than that though. Rallying scum bags, criminals, and the down trodden was one thing but he would also need those who were sensitive to the Force if he wanted to make an effort at contacting his own men within the folds of the Sith Empire.

Bastila was young. She was naïve. She was close minded. She was also a very gifted young woman. Her potential went far beyond that of most Jedi and the deposed Lord of the Sith wouldn't mind having someone who knew how to properly work the art of Battle Meditation on his side. If he could train her to be a warrior, rather than a soldier, and break her view of the Order she so firmly believe in, she would become a valuable student. Perhaps, given enough effort, the young Talravin woman could even become his new apprentice; Malak's replacement.

The thought was not without some appeal. After all, the two were mentally linked to one another. Taking her as his second in command would ensure that he would never face betrayal again. It wouldn't do her good to attack him when it would only serve to damage her own mind as well. She would be trapped in her loyalty to him, never able to break free or move through the ranks. From the day she swore fealty to him until the day she died, Bastila would be his puppet, to manipulate and use as he saw fit. A smirk curled on his lips. Revan always had been brilliant but this time he had even managed to impress himself. Adaptation had always been his strong point but never in one million years would he have believed that it was possible to manipulate a situation so perfectly that someone would be forced to abstain from betrayal, no matter how appealing the rewards may seem. The cost of one's mind was one that few would willingly pay.

"Let's get started then," he murmured to himself as he stood up again and strolled lazily out of the cargo hold.

He found that Bastila had taken to the privacy of _Millennium Falcon's _hyperdrive room, where she sat quietly meditating. He walked in without announcing his presence and waited for her to acknowledge him. "What is it?" she asked at last, pushing her thoughts aside as she rose to greet him.

"Your performance on Naboo was sloppy," he said callously, folding both arms over his chest and maintaining an even disposition. "You could have got yourself and, more importantly, me, killed back in that cave if the others hadn't arrived."

"Excuse me?" she said indignantly at his accusation.

"You need to get better. You're out of shape. Your skills reek of pacifism. Worst of all, you don't have the slightest notion of how to think on the battle field. It's really quite astounding that you've lived as long as you have."

"Thank you for your opinion, Revan, now if you will excuse me, I'd appreciate some privacy," she snorted, turning her back on him so that she could return to her meditation.

Revan closed the gap between them with a single stride. Snaking his arm around her, he bound her left arm to her side, while he used his second one to press her fighting hand to her breast. In order to remove the possibility of a counter-strike from the legs, the Dark Lord kicked in the back of her leg, throwing out all of her balance. If he hadn't been holding her aloft, the young Jedi would have collapsed to the ground.

"First rule," he hissed directly into her ear. "Don't turn your back on an opponent."

Bastila was too distracted by her current predicament to notice that Revan inhaled deeply, almost in a sadistic manner, though this was just a façade. His nostrils flared as he picked up the Jedi's thick, feminine scent. For the first time, he noted just how sweet the young woman smelled. She had gotten out of the fresher only an hour ago, so her skin still had a newly cleaned scent to it. It vaguely resembled a fruit that could only be found on Felucia, probably due to whatever she had used to cleanse herself. Beneath the artificial perfume, Bastila had a thick aroma that made him feel just a tad intoxicated. Revan's eyes rolled back in his head slightly. Still, she didn't notice. Her initial reaction was to get free of his hold. Squirming and jerking madly, it didn't seem possible to force her opponent to relinquish his grasp, despite his slight moment of vulnerability.

Dropping her onto the floor, Revan took two steps back, giving him room to move in case she decided to retaliate. Scowling, Bastila looked up at him, her eyes tearing into him angrily. "Stay away from me," she ordered, extending a hand to hold him back.

"I've just challenged you," he informed her casually. "Are you going to cower, here, in this room? Or, will you accept the challenge?"

Almost three hours later, Bastila, drenched in a thick glistening coat of her own sweat, crumpled to her knees, her breath coming in deep, ragged gasps that she could barely contain. Revan stood over her, a smug look on his face. She had managed to hold her own against him, which admittedly could only be considered a pleasant surprise. He touched a bruise on his shoulder using the opposite hand, considering the mild ache that it caused him. Several more dotted the surface of his body, all of which stung slightly. When angered, Bastila possessed a ferocity that rivaled his own. Whether or not that had anything to do with their mental link, Revan could not say. Regardless, it pleased him to see her potential.

On the other hand, Bastila did not believe that this sort of weariness had ever overcome her so entirely in the past. While she had simply managed to bruise him a couple of times, her entire body was covered with large welts, contusions, and other unpleasant marks. Nonetheless, a certain sort of exhilaration flowed through her, urging her to stand again. Her legs were battered. Using them felt unstable. They shook visibly as she forced herself to remain standing. Her conviction made Revan admire her in a way. This sort of intensity and desire to remain in the fray when she had surpassed her limit completely exemplified what the Sith Lord wanted in a new apprentice.

"How do you feel?" he asked her casually.

"I'm fine," she insisted, dropping back into a fighting stance.

A simple push through the Force sent her sprawling backwards, causing her to hit the ground roughly. Revan couldn't help but openly laugh at this as she tried to get back up again. "Take a break," he told her as he walked over to the wall and slid down its metal surface, landing in a seated position across from her. "You've... earned it."

Still taking long gulps of air as she repositioned herself into a seated position, Bastila looked across the room at her sparing partner. Whilst they fought, she couldn't help but notice just how elegant his form looked. It was truly beautiful. Even while he beat her, she felt inspired by the grace of his movements. Revan truly move with a swift and terrible beauty, almost in a dance that could be described in no other way than a deadly dance of death. It both awed and humbled her to know just what she faced when competing with her enemy. It also, truth be told, agitated her quite a bit that she could not gain the upper hand on him.

Before they had begun their sparing match, Revan insisted that they face each other without weapons, claiming that her saber skills, while shoddy at best, were not her weakest attribute. Physically, she needed to become stronger. The Jedi hounded her to become mentally strong and some of her training required her to be in better shape than the average civilian but Revan was right when he told her that the Sith, being bred for military purposes, were held to a much higher standard than the Jedi. Even the lowest ranking grunts in his army were put through rigorous training before taking an oath of fealty. Odds being what they were, she needed more practice. This match had showed her that much.

"Why are you helping me?" she asked him breathlessly.

The Dark Lord shrugged his shoulders as he ran a hand through his soggy brown hair. "I've got nothing better to do, have I?" he pointed out. "Besides, you're worth it."

Bastila cocked her head at the strange comment. "Worth it?" she repeated with a narrow glance. "What does that mean?"

To be quite honest, Revan didn't quite know what it meant. It had seemed like the thing to say at the moment, though it implied more to her that it should have done. Quick with improvisation, however, he quickly conjured up a suitable explanation for what it meant. "It means that you're a part of my team now, for whatever it's worth. The weaker you are, the more vulnerable I am."

"Then why don't you train with Leia?" she inquired. "She is far behind me in her learning."

"Princess Leia is just learning to feel the Force. True, because of your bond, she has become stronger already than she should be, but I don't feel that one who barely knows how to handle her powers is worth my time."

"But she leaves you vulnerable," Bastila pointed out. "She is bound to me and I to you. Therefore, what endangers me endangers you."

"True," he agreed, having already considered this before. "Though she is welled trained in a different respect. The good princess seems to know a great deal about self preservation, regardless of her minimal Jedi knowledge. I would wager that she, having a degree of common sense that you lack, already has all the training that she needs to protect me from any severe mental damage. Besides," he threw in as an after thought. "What I teach you, you will in turn pass onto her."

"And what if Obi-Wan and Master Yoda disapprove of my taking lessons from you?" she inquired.

"Ha!" he blurted out before he could contain himself. "Are you so much their pawn that you would cease all contact with me, despite the fact that you know it will do you more harm than good?"

"No," she answered.

"Good. Always maintain your sense of individualism, even when you are part of a unit. In battle, a group of soldiers is only as strong as the individuals of which it is comprised. To cancel out your individuality and your own unique abilities is the death of those you fight alongside." Bastila contemplated this for a moment before he chimed in one last detail. "Master Yoda won't live long anyways if he doesn't receive the proper medical treatment."

"Do you know what afflicts him?"

The Dark Lord of the Sith shook his head. "I can imagine, though, that it is some sort of disease that he shouldn't normally be susceptible to. Yoda may be old but his species is expected to live much longer than a mere one thousand years. Either he was the mutt of his litter or he has contracted something that he shouldn't have."

"Is there anything that can be done to help him?"

Revan shrugged. "How should I know? I'm not a healer. I don't know what he may have contracted. My best guess wouldn't be nearly as educated as a proper physician's comatose diagnosis." He was about to continue, however another abrupt warning shot out in the Force. The Dark Lord quickly became alert and came to his feet. "Brace yourself!" he shouted out to his companion.

Bastila sensed it too. Without any external warning, the _Millennium Falcon _shook violently. "What was that?" she cried out as she ran out of the cargo hold. Inside the main room, Obi-Wan cradled Yoda to his chest in order to protect the old Jedi Master, whilst Traya found support by holding onto the firmly balanced HK-47.

"The damned fool of a pilot is going to get us killed," the Dark Lady snarled in answer to Bastila's query.

Revan and Bastila glanced at each other before the latter of the two bolted for the cockpit to see what had happened, the former hot on her heels. What she saw inside of the cockpit, aside from her other companions, was breath taking. Just outside of the _Millennium Falcon's _viewport, an endless sea of fiery colored clouds danced through the skies they soared through.

Inside, Chewbacca and Han sat in the two pilot's chairs, working furiously at the controls. Leia and Carth had already made their way into the room. Carth's appearance seemed similar to one of controlled rage, whilst Leia didn't bother to contain herself.

"You said you were going to take us somewhere safe!" she berated Han furiously as two flashy one man star fighters came into view outside of the glass viewport.

"We are safe!" he growled back at the princess before he pressed his finger down on an intercom. "Listen to me, I'm not expected so I don't have a landing permit. Just patch me through to Lando Calrissan."

The ship rocked violently a second time as two more patrol vehicles came up from behind the _Falcon,_ raining blaster fire down on its hull. "This ship has guns, right?" Revan inquired.

"Wouldn't do us any good. The clouds are filled with Tiabanna gas. Blasters the size of this ship's would only ignite the gas and blow us all to Hell," he answered before reopening communications with their assailants, who clearly weren't inhibited by the same problem. "Tell Lando that the _Millennium Falcon _wants permission to dock. We'll wait."

Sitting back in his chair, Han silently assured himself that everything would be alright. Leia, on the other hand, was not so assuaged. "You're going to get us all killed!" she snapped at him as she smacked his shoulder fiercely.

"Would you relax?" he said in a tone that attempted to imply that no harm could come to them. "Lando and I go way back. As soon as he realizes that it's me, we'll be fine!"

"_Millennium Falcon, _you will maintain your present course and land on docking bay three-two-nine," a security officer's voice spoke over the comm. channel.

"Thank you," Han replied triumphantly. "See?" he said to Leia as he spun around in his chair. "Absolutely nothing to worry about."

"Drop below the cloud level into the main portion of the atmosphere," Revan instructed. "At least from there we'll be safe to use our own weapons if they attack again."

"They won't," Han assured him. "Lando and I have a history."

Chewbacca made a frustrated grunt towards Han, which caused him to stiffen slightly. "Well that was a long time ago," the scruffy captain muttered as he caressed his ship's dashboard. "I'm sure he's over that by now."

"Ugh," Revan grunted as he strolled out of the room. "We're all going to die."

The ship continued through the clouds until it finally breached through the end and came into sight of a large, hovering city, which hung unsupported in the skies. Hovering defense cannons all turned towards the smuggling freighter, though none of them opened fire, for which the crew was grateful. Steadily, Han eased their vessel closer to the unsupported city, towards the designated docking bay. Once the ship had safely landed, he smiled and turned back to the people around him. "Told you," he muttered. "Nothing to worry about."

"Let's hope you're right," Carth stated as he peered out the viewport, towards the dock they had landed on. Years of experience told him that they should prepare themselves for an ambush.

"I am," the other pilot insisted darkly. "Now let's not keep our hosts waiting." Standing up, Han led the entourage out of his cockpit, which had become just a bit too crowded for his liking, into the main hold, where Traya, HK-47, and Obi-Wan, who carried the sickly Master Yoda, joined them. Chewbacca quickly lowered the boarding ramp.

Outside, the door at the far end of the dock slid silently open as an elegantly dressed dark skinned business man and two security guards, each armed with a slightly modified version of the standard issue Imperial E11 Blaster Rifle, came outside. Gazing at the beautiful ship before him, Lando Calrissen sighed deeply. "Follow my lead," he told the two men. "Don't open fire unless I give the signal." The trio started to walk forward.

A man in his early thirties, Lando had come quite a ways in life. Born on Socorro, his parents had fled to the criminal world after a negative run in with the law on Corellia. Having been raised in such a lawless environment, he quickly learned to disregard higher authority and do what life required in order to get ahead of everyone else in the cesspit of a universe. Thus, in order to pay his bills in his youth, the dark skinned man turned to smuggling operations and conning. Both worked out exceptionally well for him, as did gambling. These three normally frowned upon trades provided him with the foundation for a financial empire that wouldn't be considered commonplace on the outer rim. Only a few years back, he had managed to win the Tiabanna gas mines of Cloud City in a Sabaac tournament.

As Lando and his men approached, the space freighter began to expel exhaust into the air as its hydraulics activated, lowering the now depressurized boarding ramp. One by one, seven people, one carrying a tiny alien, and three droids made their way out of the small ship. Lando frowned.

"How the devil did he fit all those people on my ship?" he murmured to himself as the unforgettable form of Han Solo approached him. Lando kept his face neutral, though his old associate obviously wanted a warmer reception. "Why are you back here, Han?" he demanded in an angry tone. "I thought I told you that I'd kill you if I ever saw your ugly face again." Han took on an offended look and stepped away from the wealthy business man.

"Statement: Master, if these meatbags become a threat, it is likely that Captain Solo will be killed before I have time to stop them from shooting. Request: Oh Master, please let me eviscerate them before this 'unfortunate' happenstance can occur!"

"HK-47, stand down," Revan ordered tersely, seeing the less than enthused look that the two city guards were giving his creation.

Lando, on the other hand, began to chuckle. "I like your droid," he told the Dark Lord as he walked up to HK-47, inspecting the rusty colored machine's design.

"Statement: Of course you do, Meatbag. Only a mentally damaged organic meatbag would fail to see to eloquent attributes of my flawless craftsmanship."

Smirking deeply, the Socorron man nodded in agreement. "Whoever built you did an excellent job," he told the droid fondly, already conjuring up various ways that he could make it his own.

As the owner of a highly successful mining colony, Lando had the opportunity to work with a great number of droids and computer virtual intelligence systems. This orange, narcissistic machine could add a great deal of humor to the typically dull days. Regardless, he made a mental note to at least add some personality programming to the non-essential work droids that he interacted with on a frequent basis. Turning away from HK-47, the Cloud City executive turned back to his old friend. Looking him up and down, he slowly judged the scruffy old smuggler, checking for injuries. There were none, which led him to check the rest of Han's crew.

None of the others seemed to be injured in any severe way, though that didn't cancel out the possibility that someone still aboard the ship needed treatment. Also, though not technically injured, the small green alien that the old man carried in his arms did not appear to be in ideal health conditions. Paranoia also led him to check the frame of the _Millennium Falcon _for signs of damage. There were no major indications that it had received external harm. Signs of previous damage and shoddy patch up jobs were clearly visible. This aggravated the ship's previous owner greatly. Rolling his eyes, he looked back to Han.

"What the hell have you done to my ship?" he demanded in an almost angry voice.

"Your ship?" Han repeated skeptically. "And what do you mean what have I done to her? She's just fine!"

"Look at her," the slightly older of the two snapped. "It's a miracle she's still space worthy!"

Shoving by Han affectionately, Lando walked over to the ship that had once been his and put a hand on the old, worn down hull. "Don't worry, Baby. I'll make sure you get fixed up before he takes you away again."

Turning back to Han's crew, Lando smiled warmly and extended both his arms in greeting. "Welcome to my fair city," he stated pleasantly. "In case this half-wit hasn't bothered to tell you, I am Lando Calrissen."

Chewbacca, who had remained silent despite his long acquaintance with the dark skinned man, finally spoke up. Moaning in a typical Wookiee fashion, the furry alien launched forward and pulled his old friend into a deep bear hug. Lando began to laugh mirthfully as he returned the gesture.

"Ah Chewbacca, why you still hanging around this old pirate?" he asked as he began to scratch his friend's neck playfully.

Chewie merely barked an answer, which both Han and Lando chuckled at. The political leader of the Cloud City finally turned his attention to business. "What do you need?" he asked Han seriously. "If it's shelter from the Empire, I can hide you for as long as you need."

"Thank you," his friend answered. "We've had a hell of a time the last few months."

"You're not part of that Rebellion, are you?" he inquired as one eyebrow rose slowly. The look of irony on Han's face told him all that he needed to know. "How the devil did you end up a freedom fighter?"

"Like I said, last few months have been strange."

"I want to hear everything," Lando told him. "But let's move on inside. I'm sure it's more comfortable that looking down from this ledge."

With a wisp of his elegant cape, Lando turned on his heels and gestured for his guests to follow. The cluttered group began to move towards the door, though everyone tried to stay as far away from the ledge as possible. Glancing downward, Chewbacca moaned and moved to keep close to Han. Revan, fearful of Traya's failed eyesight, kept close to her lest she plummet through the endless skies of this world to her doom. Sensing this, the old woman became agitated.

"I am more than capable of watching after myself," she rebuked him.

Walking at a faster pace, Traya moved away from her pupil, leaving him behind with Princess Leia and Bastila. "Mommy issues?" Leia asked him with a slight smile.

"Stay out of it," he snapped warningly at her.

"Revan, I never thought I'd be able to say this about you, but you are a mama's boy," the princess jeered as she too increased her pace, leaving him to walk with Bastila.

"Women," the Dark Lord muttered in agitation as the group of Rebels entered the compound of Cloud City.


	22. Taken

**The Darkest Lord**

**Chapter XXII: Taken**

A loud explosion roared through the ice encrusted hallways of the Rebel Outpost known as Echo Base. Shards of ice that had been frozen in place for decades shattered as a set of demolition charges detonated at the end of the southeast corridor. An unnatural wave of heat followed Wedge Antilles through the narrow passageway. He sprinted down as quickly as his legs would carry him, his head turned back behind him nervously. The Rebel pilot only glanced forward for mere moments at a time for fear of being overtaken by the Imperials behind him. An entire battalion of Stormtroopers would be on his heels in less than a minute if he didn't move swiftly.

Looking ahead for a split second, Wedge saw a door on the left hand side just a few meters ahead. Increasing his speed as much as he could, the soldier ran up to the door and keyed in an override command. Not quick enough for the panicked young man, it slid open, sprinkling loose flakes of ice down on him in the process. Wedge ducked into the room and sealed the door behind it, deadlocking it from the inside so that his pursuers wouldn't be able to follow. It would take the Stormtroopers a good while to figure out how to get through.

_"Unless they have more charges," _he thought to himself bitterly as he took a moment to relax. A deep sigh of relief uncontrollably escaped. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the door to catch his breath. "Calm down, Antilles," he muttered to himself. His heart throbbed manically in his chest, making this difficult but months of training with the Rebel Alliance made it doable.

The attack had come from out of no where. Very shortly after Commander Onasi had led the attack on the Death Star, the Rebel base on Yavin had become compromised. In an attempt to avoid discovery, the Senate voted to relocate to the abandoned outpost located on the planet Hoth. The capture of Darth Revan had delayed this action but with the disappearance of his prison ship, along with all of its crew, procedure had returned to normal within a matter of days. Both the politicians running this rebellion, as well as the military minds that directed it agreed that wasting time and resources on relocating Revan would be foolhardy. Therefore, the Lord of the Sith was declared an escaped P.O.W. and the crew of his prison ship, including Senator Leia Organa, were officially M.I.A.

Operations had gone well on Hoth. The icy planet was isolated enough that avoiding Imperial notice, especially with the whole Imperial Armada focused on Coruscant, had not been difficult. Wedge supposed that that had lured them into a false sense of security. Enemy forces had entered the Hoth sector and managed to make their way onto the planet's surface completely undetected. Given that he had been alone in the mess hall when the first strike against Echo Base had been made, he wasn't sure how large their force was but it seemed likely that the Imperial's had a sizeable number.

Sighing again, Wedge opened his eyes. He instantly swore loudly as he realized where he had sealed himself.

There didn't appear to be much in the room with him. He seemed to have wandered into some sort of storage room and judging by the contents of the few open barrels, he had walked right into the food containment room. He walked over to an open plasteel cylinder and picked up some sort of imported fruit. It looked like a tropical paup fruit from one of the aquatic worlds on the outer rim. For no reason he could actually justify, Wedge had expected that he was barreling into a weapon's locker or something similar. In the short amount of time he had had to make the decision to come into this room, he hadn't even considered that there might be something other than salvation. Now he found himself trapped in a room with no way out except for into the open arms of Imperial forces.

Even worse, the standard issue Rebel blaster pistol in his hand was almost depleted and all of his extra power packs were in his bunk, located on the other end of the compound. He probably had less than a dozen shots left before the energy cell would go dry and he'd be completely defenseless. Unfortunately, he couldn't refine power cells out of food crates. With that in mind, he holstered the weapon on the belt of his orange flight suit and began to look around for some sort of replacement weapon. There was nothing.

"Perfect," he muttered as he slid his flight helmet off of his head and dropped it on the ground. It hit the floor with a _thud _and rolled away. Bringing his wrist up to his head, he activated a communication device and waited for a signal. That took a few moments. Once the light on the wrist-bound device turned green, he started to speak. "Rebel Command, this is Rogue One," he stated clearly. "Come in Rebel Command."

"This is Rebel Command. What is your status Rogue One?" the familiar voice of Admiral Forn came over the small speaker. Wedge instantly felt a wave of relief crash over him. If Forn still had control of the communication systems, that meant that the Imperials hadn't captured the _Valiant _yet. There was still hope for the Rebellion. They could make their escape and the spark of civil war would still flare. Even a crushing victory today wouldn't be enough to dampen the discontent and mutiny that burned in the minds of the down trodden. First thing's first though. He needed to escape his current predicament before worrying about reorganizing.

"Forn, I'm pinned down in the southern corridor in food storage. Imperials are just outside the door and I'm out of ammo."

A pause accompanied by static buzzed for a moment before an answer finally arrived. "Wedge, listen to me," the senior Rebel officer said gravely to his friend. "Our first priority is to get the senators out of the base. They're already aboard the _Valiant _but we can't leave them undefended. We can't spare any men for a rescue mission."

Wedge sighed deeply. "I was afraid of that," he murmured in response. "I'll think of something. Wedge out."

The last part of the transmission had been half-hearted at best. He couldn't figure anything out. No other way out of the storage room that he had trapped himself in existed other than the front door. He felt like a rodent ensnared in a cage with no way out. Wedge swore loudly. He should have kept running when he had had the chance. The elevator leading to the hangar couldn't have been more than two corridors down. If he had kept running, he could have gotten to his X-Wing and escaped to aid the _Valiant. _Instead he would have no choice but to die as a poor soldier with no possible means of defending himself. It disgusted the man.

As soon as that door opened, Stormtroopers would flood into the room and he would be overwhelmed in a matter of seconds. Rogue One, as he had been named ever since the formation of Rogue Squadron, didn't even have faith that he could survive sixty seconds after they made their entry. His only minor consolation was that he would take down as many of those Imperial bastards as he possibly could before he stopped breathing. That didn't comfort him much.

Rolling across the floor and behind one of the plasteel cylinders, Wedge pointed his blaster directly at the door and waited. With one eye closed, he flicked the laser sight activator on the left side of the gun, which caused a tiny red dot to appear on the door opposite him. The feature wasn't standard issue among Rebel weaponry but the pilot had earned enough credits to start buying his own illegal upgrades. Unfortunately, said upgrades drew more energy from his gun's power pack than he had originally realized, causing it to run out of power more rapidly, ultimately reducing the number of shots he could fire. This sad predicament that he currently found himself trapped within was the result.

"Come on!" he shouted at the door in order to urge the Stormtroopers to him. "I'm in here! Come on!" Dieing didn't seem to be optional in this case and if that had to be his choice, he didn't plan on waiting around for the Imperials to play cat and mouse. He wanted it over quickly. "Come on!"

They seemed to reciprocate quickly. Within moments, the sound of searing metal filled the air. Wedge recognized the familiar hum of Imperial plasma torches and knew that they weren't going to bother overriding his lockdown. Why would they? Time could be better spent chasing the senators aboard the _Valiant _than dealing with one soldier. Furthermore, destroying the door was simpler.

Suddenly a thick red blade plunged through the front of the door and Wedge's eyes widened at the sight of a lightsaber.

"Oh God," he whispered hoarsely as the energy based weapon began to effortlessly tear through the reinforced steel of the door in a wide circular shape. The Rebel soldier didn't even know if he believed in a higher power or a god. Evidence of the Force had become apparent since the reign of the Emperor began but whether or not that constituted a deity or some arcane form of magic was still ambiguous in his mind. Nonetheless, he whispered the name again. "Oh God." His resolve to kill as many Imperials as possible died there. Only one man in the galaxy that he knew of carried a lightsaber like that. For twenty years now, rebellious factions had tried just about every trick possible to kill Darth Vader. None had succeeded. He, a single defenseless soldier, had no chance.

Once the lightsaber had burned a large enough circle into the door, that circle burst forward and landed on the ground in front of Wedge with a loud metallic thud. Frosty smoke filled the room and the deep breathing sound of an artificial respirator filled the storage unit. The young man shuttered at the noise as Darth Vader stepped over what remained of the door and into the room, emerging ominously from the billows of smoke. The Dark Lord was flanked by a battalion of Stormtroopers.

Wedge didn't even have a chance to raise his weapon. Vader held up a single hand and the modified blaster flew directly into the wall with so much force that it crumbled to its base components. The metallic and artificial crumbs landed on the ice encrusted ground and any last minute threads of hope were severed.

"Ah, Commander Antilles," the Sith Lord said grandly as he entered the room.

The Supreme Commander of the Imperial Fleet knew him by name. If that information wasn't enough to terrify someone, Rogue One did not know what could do it. He did his best not to let it show that fear raged in him. Rumor had it that Vader could smell fear but he grit his teeth and hardened his features anyway. He didn't see the use in dieing as a coward. He was a bit Mandalorian in that sense.

Turning his trunk slightly, Vader addressed his soldiers. "Leave this one to me. I want you to find the Senators. Bring them to my ship, alive if possible. Go!"

"Yes Lord Vader," the commanding Stormtrooper replied as he snapped off a salute. "Follow me men." And with that, the white armored soldiers filed out of the hole that they had just entered through, leaving the universe's greatest serial killer alone with an unarmed man guilty of treason against the Galactic Empire. Returning his attention to Wedge, the Dark Lord retracted the blade of his newly furnished lightsaber and replaced the Sith weapon on his belt.

"I have heard much about you, Commander."

He didn't answer.

"I can see the fear inside of you," Vader stated as he drew closer to the young soldier. "The conflict. It rages deep beneath the surface. You want to strike me down. I can feel it."

"Go to hell," Wedge spat venomously at the man he presumed to be his murderer.

"All in due time," the black armored soldier replied as he continued to stride lazily towards his victim. "All in due time." Darth Vader stopped directly in front of Wedge Antilles and looked down at him. A considerable size difference separated the two. While Wedge couldn't be considered a short man by any stretch of the imagination, standing at about five feet and eight inches but the man before him easily dwarfed the Corellian pilot.

"Are you going to kill me?" the pilot asked defiantly as he looked into the eye sockets of the considerably taller man's helmet. He felt that looking a man in the eyes showed courage but when the only visible eyes available were made of glass, it didn't do much for his pride. Nonetheless, he forced himself to look up, hoping that Vader could see the defiance in him.

He could. He respected it. It showed character to see a man stand strong even in his moment of death. Vader had watched all to many men break apart and cower as the inevitable came upon them. Such a personality could prove useful. Wedge also had a reputation as both a soldier and a pilot. Normally, Vader wouldn't think twice about killing a man with a well known face but in this instance, he chose against it. Why would he kill Antilles when the Empire had a position better suited for an ex-Rebel.

"Not yet," the Sith Apprentice stated. "The Empire has a better plans for you."

"I'll never serve your Empire again," Wedge sneered.

The Dark Lord chuckled inwardly. Once upon a time, he himself would have said the exact same thing. Both life and the Force had a way of changing people and making them act against their better character. Wedge Antilles would learn this soon enough.

Pulling back his mechanical fist, the Dark Lord punched his opponent as hard as he could in the stomach. One attack, given that it was fueled by Force enhanced strength of an already stronger than average man, rendered the Corellian unconscious. His body crumpled to the ground in a heap. Vader stepped forward and reached for the unconscious pilot. Grabbing him by the belt of his flight suit, the Sith apprentice hoisted Wedge into the air and tossed him over his shoulder. Turning away, he walked towards the hole he had cut in the door. Due to his height, the former Jedi General had to stoop down in order to avoid banging his helmet against the door.

Outside, Vader opened up his comm. link with the star pilot of his personal shuttle. "Prepare my shuttle for departure to the _Executor," _he ordered. "I want an immediate departure."

* * *

_"This is where we all end up," _Leia thought with a sickening feeling of contempt wrenching her gut as she watched over the sleeping form of Jedi Master Yoda. The two weren't close. She didn't even really know Master Yoda. The Alderaanian princess had only been a newborn when the short alien had gone into his extended exile in the Dagobah system. Despite that fact, words of his time as Grand Master of the Jedi Order still spread. People on such a busy world as Alderaan liked to talk. Despite official Imperial claims that he had been killed when the newly christened Emperor instigated Executive Order 66, certain senators claimed otherwise. Her own father, had told her that the great Jedi had survived and still lived. Bail had always told her that he would return to known space and lead the war against the Emperor. The warrior that she had imagined didn't even compare to the one that she looked on with pity now.

Lando Calrissen had been a gracious host thus far and Leia could not fault him for anything that he had done since their arrival. Hospitality was not in short supply. The entire crew of the _Millennium Falcon _had been given more than enough food and any other refreshment that they wanted. In fact, the first night that they had spent in Cloud City had ended with a very drunken Han being carried back to his quarters by Chewbacca. The next morning, the captain had emerged from his quarters completely unaware of which planet he was on.

The white tunic that Leia had worn since leaving Yavin, almost two months previously, had faded and become more of a dreary, drab gray color accompanied by stains of all sorts. The others' clothing hadn't done much better. Within hours of their arrival, each of them had received an entire wardrobe in their rooms and somehow, Chewbacca had been restrained long enough to be properly groomed. Leia still believed that there may have been tranquillizers involved.

The Rebel Senator now wore a long flowing dress, as she had once been accustomed to wearing, which ended above her ankles and ran down her arms. The skirts of this garment were all a deep burgundy color, while everything above the waste was an assortment of cream and white shades. Her hair, having been purged of all the dirt and grime that had been accumulating since Revan's prison ship had been attacked by Sith forces, had returned to its shimmering brunette color. Currently, it sat in an assortment of braids that dangled down and wisped about her shoulders. In all honesty, it made her feel like a princess again to be dressed and groomed in such an elegant fashion. She had missed the feeling of royalty.

While the princess had been busy tending to her vivacious beauty, the best medical professionals on Bespin had been called in to see Master Yoda. They quickly determined that he had contracted some sort of virus while living on the Dagobah system, which had entered his bloodstream and spread throughout the rest of his body. All of his major organs had been contaminated. Without proper treatment, he would have only lasted a few more days. Now, an assortment of all sorts of machines and medical equipment pumped fluids and medication into his body, while a single IV filtered the toxins out. The virus wasn't his only problem anymore though. Due to the weakening of his immune system, a large culture of bacteria had started to form in his veins, centering near the heart. If the culture became too large, the organ would shut down and cease to pump blood through the body. After that, Yoda would have only a matter of hours before death claimed him. To slow the progress of the bacterial growth, a surgeon made an incision in the man's chest, allowing a tube to be connected directly to the heart. This acted as a direct line for anti-bacterial chemicals to purge his system of any foul disease.

Unfortunately, anti-bacterial agents weren't sufficient to destroy a virus. That required a complete filtration of his blood, which, given his current health status, could potentially kill him. The doctors had urged caution and now spent their time debating whether or not they should proceed. In the meantime, Yoda's body was pumped with heavy depressants to keep him from regaining consciousness. The body required sleep in order to heal and a medically induced coma, in conjunction with the former Grand Master's natural Force amplified healing factor, would stall death long enough for a verdict to be reached. In the meantime, those who cared about Yoda could only wait with patience.

Obi-Wan had taken to staying in his room the majority of the time since hearing the news about the likeliness of Yoda's passing. Despite Bastila's constant reminder that a Jedi should not mourn death as it is simply a transition into the next phase of life, the old man seemed to need solitude for that very purpose. It was understandable. If Leia had lost as much as Obi-Wan, she too would feel depression beyond the abilities of the Jedi Code to cure. The man had once been a respected member of a highly revered order, which had made him a general in the grand army of the Republic. Both of these positions were stripped from him, forcing him into an exile on one of the most desolate planets within known space. During the Emperor's conquest of the Republic, his apprentice, Anakin Skywalker, died at the hands of his once friend, Darth Vader. Now, twenty years later, after swearing to protect the son of his former apprentice, he lost Luke to the deranged spirit of a long dead Sith Lord. As if that weren't enough, the manner in which the young farm boy had been taken probably led to a form of mental imprisonment in the subconscious portion of his own brain. The icing on this wonderful pastry seemed to be Yoda's inevitable death. Contrary to what Obi-Wan claimed, the princess knew well enough that he could not simply accept the Jedi Code's answer.

Sighing, Leia turned away from the dieing Jedi and turned towards the door, where she sensed someone approaching. Scrunching up her face in concentration, the young Jedi apprentice tried to pinpoint who the individual was before he or she arrived. Groaning, she gave up. Her powers weren't strong enough yet. The two metallic doors slid open and Lando walked into the room. Leia sighed. Based on what she had been able to sense, it had been a female alien approaching the room. Clearly, she needed to keep refining her craft because it clearly didn't give her an accurate image when she reached out with the Force. Shrugging off her momentary failure, she turned her attention to her host. In his hand, he held a medical datapad that had been branded with the Cloud City emblem on the back.

"How is he?" the dark skinned man asked as he came to stand next to the bed where Yoda rested.

"Not good," she responded uncomfortably.

A smile cracked across Lando's face. "It'll be alright," he assured her as he held up the datapad. "I just got this from one of the best doctor's in this sector."

Leia took the pad and switched it on. After it booted, which only took a moment, the princess was greeted by a digital x-ray of Yoda. At least she assumed it had to be Yoda. The body structure didn't match up with any other species she knew. Squinting, she spent the next several moments reading over the troubling contents of a medical report that had been made less than a day ago. During this time, Lando shifted his weight back and forth from leg to leg, unsure of what he should do with himself. Once the princess finished, she handed the datapad back to the political leader of Cloud City and looked at him.

Now Leia knew basic first aid and had received a bit of medical training back on Alderaan in preparation with the coming civil war with the Empire. Nonetheless, the report had read like gibberish. "What does that mean?" she inquired. Lando smiled and moved to stand beside her in a way that they could both look at the screen.

This wasn't exactly necessary to convey the information he had received to the princess. It probably would have been far simpler to just tell her what the doctors had told him and be done with it. But no. Lando wanted to show her. It meant that he got to be closer to her. The way they stood now, he could smell her own unique scent radiating off of her, though it had been masked slightly by the brand new clothes, which had yet to absorb the wearer's aroma. Having grown up on Alderaan, Leia hadn't been exposed to a whole lot of plant life. Her skin smelled artificial in that there were no natural tang bound to her. She wasn't wearing perfume at the moment, so no flowery fragrances rolled off of her, into the air. Instead there seemed to be a plain, non-descript odor that, while still pleasant, didn't resemble that of a Cloud City girl.

Lando liked it.

Reaching into his breast pocket slowly, he retrieved a stylus and tapped the x-ray image of the old Jedi Master. Accompanied by a semi-obnoxious beep, the screen zoomed in on the chest area. "The bacteria in his heart isn't responding to antibiotics the way that we had hoped, so my doctors want to try a different approach. My personal surgeon wants to go in and do a procedure in order to manually remove the colony from his heart valves so that he'll be able to function properly again."

"Surgery?" she asked incredulously. "Master Yoda belongs to a race so secretive that we don't even know their name. Do you expect me to believe that we actually have a valid enough knowledge of his anatomy to do something this invasive?"

"We're not operating on the heart itself. What we want to do is make a large enough incision to get a precision laser in there and kill the bacteria. We aren't making any cuts into his heart," he tried to clarify, though her look of confusion made it apparent that she disagreed with this loophole in terminology.

"If his heart is damaged, there is no way to repair or replace it," she argued. "And who are we to make this decision? If anyone should decide, other than Yoda himself, it should be Obi-Wan."

"That damn old Jedi is too busy sitting in his room crying to make a decision!" he snapped at her. Then he sighed. Lando smiled charmingly at her, completely changing his tactic. If he wanted to impress the girl, maybe shouting at her wasn't the best option. Intelligence, which was by no rights his own, would be the key. Mirroring what the doctor had told them, word for word, he said "Yoda has a binary vascular system. He has two hearts. The lower heart was attacked by the bacteria a few weeks ago. Bacteria can multiply at a rate of twenty minutes. In a week, his entire heart was coated by a thick layer of this stuff. Our medication has started to kill off the bacterial, but it isn't fast enough. If we don't work now, he'll need major vascular surgery if he's going to survive. Odds are though, his system won't be able to handle it."

Leia took only a moment to process this information before she smiled grimly at the suave man. "I want to speak with Obi-Wan before we give consent. I'll have your answer within the hour. If he approves, Yoda can go into surgery tomorrow."

"It'll be dangerous but it's the only thing that can save his life."

He was trying to sound comforting. Leia knew as much already. She didn't need comfort though. She was a Jedi, a Senator, a Princess, and a Soldier. She had long since learned how to be independent. Lando's tactics weren't going to work on her. Charming as the man seemed to be, she knew his type. It wasn't hers.

The princess smiled brightly as she turned back to the sick alien. "It'll be over soon, Master," she murmured to him. Lando heard this and couldn't help but wonder if it had been a statement of relief or a promise of death. He didn't ask. Instead, he resumed what he believed to be very successful womanizing. "It's the least I could do," he stated with a false sense of modesty that she could see right through.

The Jedi initiate prepared some form of a response but before she could use it, the door to the room slid open and Han suddenly burst into the room. With only a nod of acknowledgment towards his old friend, he strode right up to the princess and folded his arms over his chest. His face seemed flushed and it looked like he had run to find her.

"What the hell did you do to my ship?" he snapped angrily at her.

Like Leia, the smuggling captain had taken the time to cleanse himself and found a new set of clothing. Rather than the ragged old white shirt and vest he had worn, they had been replaced by a brown top and a blue cargo jacket. His black pants looked the same as the old ones and he hadn't bothered changing out the leather boots, as he had favored them for a number of years now. They had, however, been neatly polished for the first time in awhile. Overall, he looked good. Also, he didn't smell of engine grease from the _Millennium Falcon. _That was a definite improvement.

Leia only lingered on his appearance for a moment before righteous indignation kicked in and she became angry. "What are you talking about?" she snapped back with equal gusto. "I didn't do anything to it."

"The left side barracks are a complete mess. The work bench is covered in junk and it wasn't there before you moved in!"

"What were you doing in the left side barracks? Those aren't your quarters."

"It's my ship!" he exclaimed in frustration. "I can go anywhere on it that I please! You on the other hand, can't just trash it and leave it looking like a child's bedroom."

"While Bastila and I are your guests, you may not enter our quarters unless you are invited by one of us!"

"Tell you what," he said, trying his best to sound like he wasn't furious with the notion that she had come aboard his home and started making designs. "You start paying rent. I'll stay out."

"Oh look, money again! I take it the money the Alliance gave you after your 'heroic' rescue wasn't enough?"

"I have debts to pay," he sneered.

"Well why hasn't any of the money we gave you paid back Jabba the Hutt? You had more than enough to cover all of your debts to him. What happened to the money, Han?"

"It got used up paying for your war!"

"My war?" her indignant feelings flared even more at this. "I didn't start this war, Han. The Empire did!"

"Oh I'm sure it was the Empire that started the Rebellion war against itself. That makes sense to me," he jeered.

"Stay out of my quarters," she muttered as she turned and stalked away. Han and Lando both watched the woman disappear out the sliding door and then turned to one another.

"Women," Han muttered to his friend as she shook his head. With that, the captain turned and walked after the princess, intent on finishing the argument as soon as he found her.

When they were both gone, Lando sighed to himself and turned to Yoda. "I'll tell the doctors to get you prepped for surgery," he said to the small Jedi Master, not expecting any sort of reply. With that, the runner of Cloud City shrugged his shoulders and walked out, still deeply confused by the way Han had just stormed in and stolen his moment with Leia.


	23. Passing

**The Darkest Lord**

**Chapter XXIII: The Passing of a Legend**

Master Yoda coughed deeply as a painful sensation wracked his lungs. Using what little strength that he could, the old alien pushed himself up into a seated position and tried to clear his throat. The pain that followed caused him to spasm and he shook his head miserably. With a deep sigh, the Jedi turned to the only other person in the room; Obi-Wan Kenobi. His former student sat beside him on metal chair, helpless to do anything. A weary and depressed look dotted his old features. The miserable pair of Jedi Masters were a sad sight to behold and the tone in the room could be described as chilly at best. Neither said a word to one another. Nor had they for several hours. Obi-Wan had simply been there to keep his friend company while the worst of the sickness held him. It had been an emotionally draining experience for the both of them. But now, quite unexpectedly, Yoda smiled.

"A good life, I have had," he said hoarsely with a nod. "Very good life." Obi-Wan looked down at the other Jedi, not entirely sure how to respond. Yoda chuckled slightly. "Many years, I have lived. Many life times, by your standards, Master Kenobi." The other Jedi simply nodded grimly. "Smile," the alien tried to say before another series of coughs overtook him. He pushed himself up again, allowing air to flow more freely through his swollen lungs. "Embrace death, a Jedi must."

"We've embraced too much in our time," Obi-Wan muttered bitterly. "The entire Order. Anakin. Luke. Too much."

"Not lost are Skywalker and his son, old friend," the elder of the two tried to say reassuringly. "They can still be saved."

"Maybe," the younger acknowledged. "Maybe."

"Obi-Wan," Yoda said seriously, causing the former Jedi General to stare at him with equal focus. "Dying, am I. Become one with the Force, I must."

"Master Yoda-," he began.

"No!" the alien interjected. "Not up for discussion, it is. Had good life." Obi-Wan stood up from his chair and turned away. He crossed to the door but did not open it or leave. He simply couldn't bear to look upon his master in such a way. Yoda had once been the Grand Master of the Jedi Order. He had lived for centuries and had been considered a hero by many. To lose him would be the greatest loss that the Jedi had sustained yet. Obi-Wan had always secretly held onto the hope that the Empire would fall and that the Jedi would be rebuilt. In that dream, Yoda had been their leader while he simply reassumed his seat on the council. Losing the Grand Master would put him next in the line of succession. Like a child struggling with a task far too great for him, Obi-Wan was afraid to start over without his old friend. He didn't feel capable of leading. He had lead Anakin to the emperor and he had lead Luke to Exar-Kun. Leadership hadn't served him well in the past. "Forgive yourself, you must," Yoda interrupted the thought with a hacking cough.

"I can't," Obi-Wan murmured.

"Then the death of you, it will be," the older Jedi warned.

"I have deserved death for a long time, old friend," he returned.

"But your death, the galaxy does not deserve," the dying Grand Master thundered before falling into another series of painful gasps and wheezes. When he regained his strength, the alien shifted so that he was sitting on the edge of his oversized bed and his legs dangled off of the side. "Leia," he said softly. "Speak with her, I would."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes as a silent emotional agony overcame him. He nodded his head in compliance but this was a day that he had feared for some time. Part of why he had sent Han Solo and the _Millennium Falcon _to Dagobah to recruit Master Yoda was so that he would never have been responsible for telling the twins of their true origins. Now that his master was about to pass, it seemed wrong to let him do as much. The old Jedi had done so much for the galaxy in his long life. Telling the girl the truth shouldn't have been the last. Nonetheless, Obi-Wan used the computer terminal in the room to page the princess in her quarters. It was only a few minutes later that the young woman entered the room.

It looked as if she had just used the fresher when she had received the invitation. Her hair was still wet and had not been styled yet. Moreover, the lovely blue gown that she wore, which morbidly reminded Obi-Wan of the dress that her mother had been buried in, looked as if it had been quickly thrown on. The cream colored sash around her waste had been sloppily tied and the zipper along the back had not been brought up all the way. She had clearly gotten dressed in a hurry when she had heard that the dying Jedi Master wanted to speak with her.

Acknowledging Obi-Wan with a pleasant nod, the princess came beside the old alien and took a seat in the chair beside his bed. She took his small hand into her own and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "What can I do, Master Yoda?" she inquired sincerely.

The Jedi Master smiled at her and nodded in approval. "A fine young woman, you have become, Princess Leia," he said proudly. "But serious matters, I must discuss with you, before I die."

"The surgery," the Rebel Senator brought up, looking from Yoda to Obi-Wan and then back. "Lando's doctors were confident. You'll be alright."

Yoda shook his head but began to cough violently again before he could explain. Obi-Wan, came to stand beside the young woman and rested his hand on her shoulder. "He has decided to forgo the procedure," he explained. "He feels it is his time to become one with the Force."

Leia's face contorted into one of surprise and then disapproval but she did not voice her opinion. She knew that it wasn't her place. Once the shock had passed, which happened very quickly, she set her features back into a neutral expression and nodded. The diminutive alien beat himself on the chest twice, trying to clear his throat before he looked up again. "Time, it is, that you knew the truth about your family, Princess."

"My family?" she repeated.

Obi-Wan nodded. "Your real family," he clarified.

Leia looked between the two old men. She hadn't been very old when her parents had told her that she wasn't biologically their child. In a way, she had always known. There had always been something different about them. When she had reached her late teens, she had assumed that it had been intuition. More recently, she felt that it had been the Force guiding her, even when she had been a very small girl. Sadly, however, her adoptive parents had always refused to tell her about her biological ones. All that her father would say was that they had been good friends and that both of them had died shortly after Leia had been born. That had never satisfied her curiosity. She sucked in a deep breath when she realized that the questions she had longed to know her entire life were about to be answered. A certain nervous anticipation knotted up in her stomach and she bit her lip and began to play with the folds of her skirts.

"Tell me," she urged them.

Bastila Shan grunted loudly as she dove towards Revan. The former Lord of the Sith rolled to the left avoid her attack and retaliated by hurling a wave of Force energy at her. The Jedi Knight brought up her mental shielding in time to protect herself from the attack but the sheer strength behind it still caused her to stumble backwards. The Dark Lord pressed his advantage, charging towards her before she could recover her footing. He tackled her, grabbing her by the waist as he did so, and rushed her into the nearby tiled wall of the room where they sparred. The blow knocked the wind out of the young woman, who gasped suddenly as breathing became difficult. Revan brought his arms up, maintaining a fighting stance, but jumped back a few times, giving her a wide berth to recover.

Bastila collapsed down to one knee and grabbed his stomach with both arms. She looked up at her sparing partner and shook her head. A thick sheet of sweat covered her body and after several hours of training, she was beginning to feel exhausted. Revan, who also had developed a coat of perspiration, looked less weary but his breathing was labored. The two remained silent, each working to catch their breath. Their training sessions had become more intense over the previous few days in Cloud City. With no immediate plans for departure, it had become the most effective pass time for both. When they had started the day after the _Millennium Falcon _had docked, it had been a dangerous game for her. She still didn't trust the deposed Sith Lord, despite the bond in their minds that bridged them. In spite of his claims that harming her could inflict physical or psychological damage unto himself, she had no way of knowing whether or not it was true or if it was just another lie that he had concocted to lure her into a false sense of security. She had been quite cautious while sparring with him and had insisted on wearing her Jedi robes and keeping her lightsaber handy at all times.

As time had passed, however, the routine became less formal. She hesitated less when he suggested that they train and she even started to trust him in some odd way. Both of their lightsabers were stowed away in their respective quarters. Moreover, at that very moment, she wore only a pair of form fitting black pants and a dark green tank top, both of which were ideal for working out. Neither limited movement in the least. He stood opposite her, dressed only in a loose fitting pair of black sweat pants. His well defined chest was exposed and glistened with sweat. Since the loss of his signature armor inside of Darth Vader's castle on Vjun, Revan had been exposed to a great deal more sunlight. His recently ghost colored skin had actually developed a robust tone and some might even say that he had a tan. His sickly dark hair, almost black when they had met, had also softened. The added sunlight had caused it to lighten ever so slightly, restoring it to the chocolatey brown color that she had seen in old holos of the Mandalorian Wars. He looked healthy for the first time in many years.

Their matches had proven mutually beneficial as far as he was concerned. Every time that they met, Bastila seemed to grow a bit more proficient in combat. Perhaps it was their Force bond, but he could see a marked improvement in her style. She could predict his movements a bit better and had learned to adapt. She knew how to fend him off and protect himself from some of his more brutal attacks. Importantly, she had also picked up on how to use his strengths against him. He probably weighed a good fifty pounds more than she did, which made it almost impossible for her to stand up to him in terms of physical strength. Instead, she could improvise and use his own weight against him. Earlier in the fight, she had ducked to avoid a well placed punch and grabbed him by the wrist. Unexpectedly, she had flipped him over her back and slammed the much heavier Sith Lord into the ground. He had to admit, it had hurt like hell.

Soon, she would be a capable fighter and he'd feel confident working on swordsmanship with her. She already seemed to be capable in that area. Wielding a double bladed lightsaber as she did took an expert level of skill and precision but based on what he had seen, she could do better. He wanted to see her move with blinding speed. He wanted to know that if it ever came down to a duel between her and Malak, she would rip his former apprentice apart. Smiling at the thought, he dropped down into a seated position on the black training mat.

"How do you feel?" he asked her politely. She nodded at him, indicating that she was alright, but didn't speak. His last attack had been rougher than usual and so he understood that she'd need a minute to recover. He smirked at the response. "You're doing really well," he told her honestly. "Nomi would be proud."

Bastila looked up at the mention of her old master, her interest piqued. "You knew Master Sunrider?" she asked when she had the breath to do so.

He nodded an affirmative. "I knew her daughter, Vima, better," he explained. "She and I trained together on Coruscant after her master passed away."

"Ulic Qel-Droma," Bastila stated, having heard the story from Nomi many years previously. When Nomi had become a member of the Jedi Council, she had had less time to focus on training her daughter. In frustration, Vima had sought out the only man who would train her in secret; the redeemed Sith Lord that had once been her mother's lover. Ulic had been kind to her and had taught her the ways of the Force, despite the fact that his connection to it had been severed many years beforehand. Under his tutelage, Vima had grown into an exceptional Jedi. Unfortunately, when Nomi finally tracked down her daughter, she had been followed by some glory seeking bastard. Whoever the man was, for history had forgotten him ironically, he had killed Ulic in the hopes of being remembered for it. Nomi and Vima had buried the secret on Rhen Var, with Qel-Droma though. Only those close to the Sunrider women ever heard the story. "Was she... a friend?"

"Yes," the former Lord of the Sith answered with an affirmative shake of his head. "Until I left the Order anyways. By the time I came back as a Sith, I hadn't seen her in years."

Bastila frowned, turning all of this information over in her head. It felt strange, talking with Revan as she did now. Just a month ago, the pair of them were enemies. They stood in direct opposition of one another and the word "hate" wouldn't be an inappropriate way of describing their relationship. Everything that had happened had changed that though. Somehow, they were sitting in the middle of an empty room that they had rearranged to work as a sparring floor and they were talking in a manner that could be described as friendly. If only her old masters could see her now. She pictured the look on Vrook Lamar's face. He wouldn't have been pleased in the least. The gruff old Jedi would have sputtered about angrily and given her a stern lecture. A small smile crossed her lips.

Revan looked up, noting a sad note in the Force around him. "Leia," he murmured softly. Bastila looked up, sensing her apprentice's sorrow through the bond that they shared. She stood up, stretching the kinks out of her back as she did.

"I should check on her," the young woman commented. "Tomorrow?"

The Dark Jedi nodded as he stood up, and did a solid trunk twist, causing several of the joints in his back to pop. "Absolutely," he replied.

Bastila turned for the door and placed her hand on the pad beside it. The metal frame slid back sleekly, allowing her to exit. Revan stayed in the room for a few moments, contemplating his current situation. He didn't have long, however, before his privacy was invaded by none other than Carth Onasi, the former Republic soldier who hated him oh so much.

"You have a minute?" the solider asked coldly as he came into the room. The Dark Lord nodded, beckoning him to come in.

Carth had had his orange flight jacket well washed and most of the mud and bloodstains that it had accumulated over the previous few weeks had been purged. He had also shaved the untidy beard that had grown while they had been stranded on Naboo, leaving onto a slight stubble across his jaw. The pilot didn't carry any weapons in his hands but the Dark Lord was keenly aware that the soldier's palm rested strategically on the grip of his holstered pistol. Revan smirked.

"What can I do for you, Commander?" the Dark Jedi asked as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the white wall of the room.

Carth remained silent for a moment, searching for the right words to say. While the wall of strong emotions that coursed through him made it difficult for Revan to glance into his mind, the Sith could at the very least sense that his "ally" seemed resolute in his purpose. Revan didn't speak. He simply waited for the words to come to Carth, which they eventually did.

"Why did you destroy Telos?" he asked frankly.

It was an unexpected question but when he thought about it, the former Sith Emperor could see why it would be the first civil thing that the Telosian soldier would ask. He sighed grimly and shook his head. "Are you willing to believe anything I say?" the Dark Lord asked.

Carth shrugged. "Maybe," he conceded.

Good enough. "Telos was one of my greatest failures during the war, Commander Onasi," Revan admitted dourly. "It was a planet rich with resources that my empire could have used. The population was defiant but not beyond our ability to subdue. Destroying it was illogical and an utter mistake."

"Then why?" the other man demanded to know. "Why did they all have to die?" There was anger in his tone but there was also something else. The questions weren't accusations. They were pleas. He needed to understand. Somehow, Carth needed to make sense of why his wife and son had been taken from him, along with every other man, woman, boy, and girl to live on the beautiful little world he had called home.

"I didn't order that Telos be destroyed, Carth," the older man explained softly. "I only ordered that it be conquered. Malak took things into his own hands. That's why your planet burned. I put a madman in charge of controlling it."

"He acted without orders to wipe us out?" Carth gasped, unable to comprehend what had just been said.

Revan nodded. "Yes," he answered.

"And you let him get away with it?"

At last, the accusations had set in. It had only been a matter of time before that could happen. Still, Revan had always felt remorse for the loss of life on Telos. It hadn't furthered his goals of strengthening the Republic and it hadn't helped him wipe out the Jedi. According to casualty reports, there hadn't been a single Force user stationed there when Malak had attacked. It had been a senseless loss of life, akin to what the Mandalorians had done to worlds like Cathar and Dxun. He shook his head. "I am sorry," he said honestly. "I should have killed Malak for doing that but I was sentimental. He was a friend, once."

"Some friend," the soldier snorted.

Revan chuckled softly at the remark. "Some friend indeed," he agreed. "But it was my mistake and it should have been my responsibility to rectify the situation as best as I could. Instead, I punished him and turned him loose. Now I'm an exile, he's murdered a very close friend, and Naboo has suffered the same fate that Telos did almost four thousand years ago." He looked directly into the other man's eyes. "Does that answer your question?"

"No," Carth replied honestly as he turned away and towards the door. "But thank you." With that, he exited and Revan was again alone.

A little more than an hour later, Princess Leia stood silently in Master Yoda's quarters. She felt numb. Literally, she couldn't feel anything. The vibrations of the ground beneath her, the air conditioning in the room, and the soft fabric of her clothes were absent from her mind. She stood, rooted to the spot, unable to sense or comprehend anything. Leia had not been raised a Jedi. She had not been taught to keep her emotions in check the same way that Bastila and Obi-Wan had. Her father had been a politician and so she had learned to mind her manners and to avoid making a scene but the two life styles really didn't compare. She began to shake uncontrollably as she closed her eyes. The Rebel senator turned away from the two Jedi and then back to them.

"Why didn't you tell us?" she asked softly. Her voice cracked as she said the word. She was trying her best to stay strong and to keep from breaking down but it was a struggle. She could feel tears welling up behind her eyes and she fought to keep them back. She felt entirely betrayed by the revelation. Everything that she had been told as a child had been a lie. Darth Vader was her biological father? Her entire life had been flipped upside down during the course of a single conversation. Her muscles tensed and she contemplated throwing something, for all the good that it would have done her.

"Leia," Obi-Wan began. "I am sorry."

"Sorry," she repeated indignantly. "You had no right to separate us!" she nearly shouted, referring to herself and her brother, Luke. "I grew up in luxury and he had to rotten on death trap of a barren planet and fight for enough money to get by! How could you do that to him?"

Both of the Jedi Masters looked down at the ground, unsure of how to respond. It was Yoda who finally spoke up. "Safer for both of you, it was, to keep you separate."

"But what if you had kept us together? What if instead of hiding us, you had trained us. We would be Jedi! We could fight the Emperor and Darth Vader together! Instead, the Rebellion is scattered and Luke is missing! He could be dead for all we know!"

"Leia," Obi-Wan started again. "We didn't know what to do. We were confused after the war ended. We did what we thought was best."

The princess shook her head. "Well you were wrong." She turned on her heel and left. The metallic doors slid open to allow her to exit and she was gone.

Obi-Wan looked down at Yoda, who relaxed in his bed. "Good, that we told her," the older Jedi mused to himself. "Deserved to know the truth, she did." With that, the small alien pulled his blanket up over himself and smiled. "Goodbye, old friend."

"Master," Obi-Wan inhaled sharply, not ready for such a sudden goodbye. "Don't. Not now. Please."

"My time, it was many days ago. The Force is strong with me. Kept me alive. But no more. My task is done." Obi-Wan collapsed into the chair beside Yoda, unable to listen to what his friend was saying. He closed his eyes and shook his head but the former Grand Master of the Jedi Order reached out and touched his shoulder. "Be with you, I always shall, Obi-Wan Kenobi."

And with that, the greatest Jedi Master in the history of the Order let go. The life ebbed from him quickly and he fell into what looked like a very peaceful sleep. Had Obi-Wan had the heart to look, he would have noticed that it was the first time that his old master had looked to be at peace since he became ill. Grand Master Yoda passed away silently into the Force. His body slowly vanished, consumed by the omnipotent energies within. Obi-Wan let out an uncontrolled sob and bent over the bed. No great ceremony would be held in his friend's honor. No one would remember the day as the passing of a legend. In the midst of this bloody war, it would only be seen as another day. It would be another day that the Empire controlled the galaxy. It would be another day that the Sith and Mandalorians vied for power. It would just be one more day, like all the rest.

Out in the hall, Leia rushed back to her quarters. The door opened, allowing her to enter, and she swept into the small apartment quickly. Once inside, she allowed herself to break down. Tears fell freely from her eyes and uncontrollable sobs wracked her body. She choked noisily on her own gasps as she tried to breath normally but couldn't. The memory of Bail and Breha Organa suddenly seemed so tainted. Her entire life seemed wrong. Had it really all been a lie? Was Darth Vader really her father. With a piercing shriek, she hurled a nearby chair across the room with her mind, scraping the tile floor in the process. She trembled with sorrow as she looked back across her entire life and saw nothing but lies and things that were wrong.

"Damn it!" she swore loudly as she bashed her hands on a table. She breathed heavily for a moment before she heard what sounded like a hesitant knock on her door. The princess turned and sighed. "Not now!" she snapped at whoever was outside.

"Um...Leia?" Carth's voice came muffled through the metal frame. "Are you alright?"

She took a deep breath and collected herself before moving towards the door. It opened at her touch, revealing the less than happy looking Republic soldier. "Thank you for coming by, but I'm fine," she assured him.

The soldier frowned and stuck his finger beneath her chin, lifting her head up so that he could look at her. As he thought, he eyes were red and puffy and she sniffled involuntarily. "You've been crying," he stated.

Leia rolled her head to shake off his hand and turned away."I'm fine," she mumbled unconvincingly. "I just got some bad news."

Carth stepped into the apartment, the door closing behind him. "If it makes you feel any better, so did I," he replied as he put a hand on each of her shoulders. The young woman gave a grim chuckle and shook her head.

"It really doesn't," she answered. This did, however, cause her to turn and face him. She gave him a playful punch in the arm. "Are _you_ okay then?" she asked with genuine concern.

"Me? Oh yeah," he responded sharply. "I'm fine. I always am. I'm a soldier. I have to be."

"Try being a princess," she snorted as she moved back into her room and sat down at the small table that stood in the middle of the room. Carth followed her and took a seat opposite the lovely woman.

"What's wrong?" he wanted to know in all seriousness.

"Uh-uh," she replied as she shook her head. "You first."

The pilot slouched back and his chair and groaned. "I spoke with Revan today about Telos," he explained to her. Leia frowned, not quite understanding the correlation. He hastened to explain. "When Revan invaded the Republic, one of the first worlds that the Sith conquered was my home; Telos. They wiped it out. Destroyed everything. Over eighty percent of the population died."

Leia cupped a hand to her mouth. "I'm so sorry," she whispered in shock and horror.

"I don't say that for sympathy," he assured her. "Who knows but maybe they rebuilt. I haven't checked the archives since I came forward in time. Maybe the planet's fine... which is more than you can say about Alderaan... I'm sorry."

"Alderaan," she mumbled to herself, analyzing it in the new light that shone over everything in her life since her conversation with Obi-Wan and Yoda. "I need a drink." Standing up, Leia crossed over to the cabinet and retrieved a bottle of Correlian whiskey that Lando had sent to her as a "gift," along with two glasses. Carth raised an eyebrow as he chuckled a bit.

"Are Jedi allowed to drink?" he asked her.

"I'm not a Jedi," she pointed out. "I could have been but Obi-Wan and Yoda pretty much made sure that that would never really happen." She placed the two glasses between them and twisted the cap on the glass bottle. When it was open, she poured a sizable amount of the rust colored liquid into the beverage containers before her.

Carth took his glass and held it up, which she quickly followed suit. "To not Jedi," he toasted her as they _clinked_ their glasses. Both downed their drinks in a single gulp. Carth, a longtime soldier with years of shore leave experience, simply set the glass down and sighed. Leia, on the other hand, had never branched into hard alcohol. The fiery liquid burned her throat, causing her to choke on it slightly. Her companion laughed softly at the sight while she tried to clear the burning sensation from her esophagus.

"It takes practice," he assured her.

Leia grumbled as she started to refill their glasses. "Darth Vader's my father," she told him bluntly.

Carth's smile vanished, replace instantaneously with a frown. "What?" was all that he could say.

"That's what Obi-Wan and Yoda just told me," she explained. "He had twin babies right before his wife died. One was Luke. One was me. He doesn't even know we exist." The Republic soldier didn't know how to respond to that sort of information. He tried to find the right words for several seconds before giving back and throwing back another glass of whiskey. "I know, right?" Leia responded to his actions before doing the same with her own.

"How could you never know that?" he asked her seriously. "I mean, your father? And Luke? Why didn't Obi-Wan tell both of you when we got off the Death Star?"

"That's a good question," the princess agreed.

They were both silent as Leia refilled both of their glasses. When she had, she took her glass in hand but didn't drink it. Carth just stared at his. "Does Bastila know?" he wondered aloud. Leia shrugged. He contemplated his drink for awhile before speaking. Then he looked up at her and said, "It doesn't change who _you _are." Leia looked up inquisitively, urging him to continue. Carth took a small sip from his glass this time before doing so. "Look at you," he pointed out. "Your father seems like a pretty terrible person but you aren't. You're fighting for a cause that's good and righteous; the values of the Republic. You aren't him."

"I know that," she half seriously snapped. "Doesn't change the fact that my parents lied to me my whole life and that I should have been raised as a Jedi from the beginning."

"Leia," he began as he leaned forward, half way across the table. "My wife and son were all that I had. They were my life. When Telos died, my future died with them. You, you're different. You still have a future; something to look forward to. When this war is over, you're going to be somebody. I'm a soldier. That's all I'll ever be and when this war is over, I won't even be that. Being Darth Vader's daughter isn't all that you are." Leia rested her elbows on the table and buried her cheeks in the palms of her hands.

"I suppose," she half heartedly agreed.

"Besides, I'm glad that you weren't raised as a Jedi from the beginning," he mumbled softly.

Leia smiled back at him. "And why is that?" she asked playfully, noting the bright red color that his gruff features had just turned.

"Because," he stammered for a moment. "Well because you wouldn't be here with me now if you had been."

Leia chuckled softly. It was a genuine laugh. There was actual mirth in it. She leaned in, closer to Carth, and tapped his nose with her index finger. "You're wrong, Carth Onasi," she told him. "You do still have a future."

With that, Leia moved in closer and planted a soft kiss on his lips. They brushed each other ever so lightly that he wasn't quite sure that it had happened. When she did it again, she reached out around the side of her head and laced his fingers through her still damp brunette locks of hair. He pulled her closer, into a deeper kiss.

Luke Skywalker stepped down the board ramp of his personal shuttle, flanked by four Sith troopers as he did. The quintet strode imposingly onto the landing pad of the Cloud City tiabanna gas plant, greeted by Lando Calrissen. The dark skinned man approached them warmly, two of his own security guards following him. "Welcome!" he greeted the strangers warmly. "I'm Lando Calrissen! Owner of this fine establishment! Your transmission said that your fuel reserves were depleted. I'd be happy to help!"

The Sith initiate smirked as he looked at the man. "Who are you hiding here?" he inquired, using the Force to strengthen the question.

Lando shook his head, a bit disoriented, but kept his calm nonetheless. "I'm not hiding anybody," he answered. "This is an honest business."

Luke shook his head. With a simple flick of his wrist, Lando and his two guards were thrown from the landing pad and plummeted through the cloud cover below. Their screams resonated in the sky until eventually, they faded away. The Dark Jedi turned to his own men."Find the Jedi," he ordered them. "Bring them to me."

"Yes sir," all four replied as they saluted their leader. With that, they marched into the building to begin their task. Luke followed behind them at a distant pace. He could sense Obi-Wan Kenobi and Princess Leia somewhere in the city and he doubted very much that they had separated from Darth Revan and Bastila Shan in the previous few days. He'd find them all and kill them. Then at last, he could take his place at his master's side as a true Lord of the Sith.

Putting his index finger to his right ear, Luke activated the long range communicator that was hidden there. "Captain," he said aloud. "Send in your ships. Burn this station out of the sky."

**More than two and a half years after the last update for this story, I have at long last returned. The Darkest Lord is officially off the shelf and back on track. Things are very different from the last time I posted here. I was a senior in high school. Now I'm a junior in college. I've worked on two major web series in the last few years. One flopped horribly while the other one is now online and available for your viewing pleasure. It is a comedy series called "Revenge of The Sock," which can be viewed on YouTube or at . It very loosely and unofficially ties in with "Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog" for those of you who were fans. The original video was one of the Evil League of Evil application videos for the DVD, though it wasn't selected. I'd appreciate you guys checking it out and giving us some feedback. Please note, I am not the writer/director/producer of the series. Contacting him with regards to any fan fictions will just confuse him. Also, for any Mass Effect fans out there, I have a KOTOR/Mass Effect 2 crossover story that I've started updating again as well. You'll probably get a kick out of that. **


	24. Reunion

**The Darkest Lord  
Chapter XXIV: Bitter Reunion**

If there was one thing that he could depend on in all of time and space, Lando Calrissian would have to speculate that it would have been luck. Luck had won him most of his prized possessions in life. Card and dice games had garnered him ownership of the _Millennium Falcon,_ his mining facility on Bespin, and more than a few spectacular nights with some choice women. Granted, he had used some particular methods to tip the scales in his favor with regards to all of those scenarios but luck had to have played a key role in all of those successes. It most certainly had to have been the reason that he had survived his brief but decisive encounter with Luke Skywalker back in Cloud City. As he had been plummeting to what most likely would have been his death, his long flowing cape had snagged on the railing, which tore it loose. Rocketing at nearly break neck speeds, he had managed to grab hold of it and use it as a makeshift parachute, which rapidly slowed his descent. The winds had whipped him about until, by some miracle of some higher power, he found himself above one of the sub-cloud mining outposts of his facility. With a less than graceful landing, he managed to slam quite painfully into a water purification tower. The pipes that he had landed on had ruptured, but the force of the high pressured water shooting up at him had canceled out quite a bit of his impact, effectively sparing his life. He'd be sore for quite some time. Nonetheless, Lando Calrissian was alive.

Upon speaking with the general manager of the small platform, he learned that an unknown enemy force had invaded Cloud City. The main mining facility had come under fire by unfriendly ships and most of the tiabanna gas had been ignited. Cloud City was in flames. Lando swore violently when he heard this, pacing back and forth about the manager's office as he tried to think of a plan. His security had been completely overrun and communications traffic in and out of the city had been cut off. More importantly, star fighters had flown over every outpost and station within more than one hundred miles and opened fire on their signal towers. From his current position and every position nearby, it would be impossible to call for help. Nonetheless, Lando still felt lucky. If ever there was a time for an attack on his business, it was when Han Solo and the _Millennium Falcon _were on space dock. The dark skinned man just hoped that his old friend hadn't killed already.

Back when the smuggling freighter had been his, Lando had installed quite a few illegal modification to its systems. A smuggler needed those sorts of upgrades to slip by Imperial enforcers. As far as he had been concern, no one had been harmed and he had made a small profit. It was a win/win situation. Now he silently thanked any higher power that may have been listening that he had been so greedy. The _Falcon's _internal radio frequency had been modulated just enough that it could penetrate most types of jamming signals. While the rest of Cloud City had gone quiet, Lando was fairly certain that he could still make contact with his people through the old ship.

Using his personal communicator, which had received the same upgrades as the ship, he put in a message to Han and Chewbacca. It was a simple and short text based message but it contained his coordinates, instructions on how to remove any locked docking clamps that the invaders had activated, and a demand for help. He sent it off quickly, hoping against home that someone would find it and respond soon.

Luke Skywalker laughed darkly as he strolled down the corridors of Lando Calrissian's mining facility. A wave of people ran from him, screaming in terror as he approached. The Sith Initiate watched as his men gunned them down in cold blood. Women and children were among those to fall before the oncoming party of soldiers. His golden armored troopers simply continued to shoot every time another individual crossed their path.

"Spread out!" he ordered when they reached a fork in the halls. "Find the Jedi and bring them to me!"

"Yes sir," they responded before disappearing down multiple corridors.

Luke stayed at the intersection, near a hyperlift. He crossed his arms and waited a moment, contemplating the best use of his time. His men had locked down the entire city fairly well. While his star fighters had crippled the facility from above, his slicers had infiltrated the building and cut off all communications. The civilians couldn't call for help. The Jedi and Cloud City Security personnel were all that stood to oppose him. Even they wouldn't be much of a threat. Moreover, his men had also disabled the docking ports. All clamps were securely locked in place and the Rebels would be hard pressed to break the security protocols that his slicers had put into place. That meant that they were trapped. No one would come for them and they couldn't run away.

All he had to do was wait for the Jedi to reveal themselves to him. They would eventually. According to Darth Malak, Bastila and Obi-Wan followed a code of honor that wouldn't allow them to hide or protect themselves while other people died. They would come to him, sooner or later. As for Revan, Luke knew that he would be able to hunt down the rogue Sith Lord. Bioscanners could be used to track down any stray survivors after the first few sweeps. If Revan wouldn't face him directly, then he would be rooted out like an infestation of insects. He couldn't hide from the Sith. Today was his day to die.

Luke didn't want to wait idly, however. He enjoyed being a part of the main force. He wanted to be hunting on his own. All of the knowledge passed to him through Exar Kun made it simpler. In the few weeks that he had been possessed, he had learned every military tactic and Force trick that the ancient Dark Jedi had known. Small traces of Kun's personality had also started to emerge in the former moisture farmer. His blood lust was one such trait. The Dark Jedi retrieved his father's lightsaber from his belt and depressed the activation switch. The cerulean blade sprang forth with the usual _snap-hiss_ and the hum echoed through the air.

"Come on out, Jedi!" he jeered down the empty corridors. "I know you're out there!"

With the bravado of a teenaged boy, Luke took off down the halls, eager for blood. He didn't have to wait long. Minutes after his search began, a door in front of him opened and Bastila emerged. The Talravin Jedi stood, still dressed only in the work out attire from a few hours previously. She held her active double bladed lightsaber in hand. A thick layer of sweat and blood covered her body. She had obviously been busy with his men. When she saw Luke, she stopped abruptly.

"Luke," she whispered to herself as she cupped her off-hand over her mouth.

It had been nearly four months since Yavin; four months since she had lost him to Exar Kun. In that time, Bastila had always blamed herself for the young boy's disappearance. At only nineteen years old and with no proper schooling to speak of, he had never been a match for the dark spirit that had taken him. She should have been more attentive to her friend. True, he had not been her pupil, but he had been her ally. She should have protected him and she had failed. Seeing him alive brought a warmth to her and a feeling of relief that she had never dared to hope to feel.

The feeling didn't last long, however. It took only a moment for her to realize that something was off about her friend. His attire, his condition, his disposition, and his aura were all different. When they had met, he had been a thin boy with sunburned skin. There had almost been a leathery quality to him, due to his growing up on the harsh desert world of Tatooine. He looked completely different. His skin looked healthier, probably due to time spent away from the twin suns, but pale. The color had drained from his face and his previously vibrant blue eyes were now a dull gray hue. He also seemed larger. It looked as if he had put on a great deal of muscle in a very short period of time. His stance, his eyes, and his demeanor had all hardened. He looked angry and more than a little insane. More importantly, she could sense the change in his aura. The once vibrant blue swirls of energy that had surrounded him were gone; replaced by a thick dark red shade that pulsated violently.

"Kun," she corrected her previous statement.

"No," he replied as he straightened up. "It's Luke."

"How did you break free?" she asked him sadly.

"Lord Malak saved me from Exar Kun," he explained, twirling his lightsaber for showmanship. Luke smiled as he looked his friend up and down. It was a perverse smile, filled with lust and desire. Dressed only in the a pair of form fitting pants and a dark green tank-top, she certainly looked appealing. Her clothes accented her naturally curved form nicely and the Sith Initiate couldn't help but recall his old feelings for the woman. He had wanted her ever since they had met aboard the Death Star. Now he had the power to take her. "Malak didn't say that I had to kill _you_, Bastila," he told her as his blood lust quickly dissipated to make room for old fashioned lust. "Come with me. The Sith could use someone with your abilities."

Bastila shook her head. "Luke, stop!" she ordered him. "This isn't you. This isn't what your aunt and uncle would have wanted. Call off your men and let's talk!"

He chuckled softly, brandishing his weapon towards her. "My aunt and uncle didn't want to be murdered for a war they weren't even a part of!" he retorted. "What they want really doesn't seem to matter."

"And this is what you want?" she inquired. "To be a murderer. To be like the ones who took them from you!"

"You don't get it!" he snapped. "Power is the only way to stop bad things from happening to the people you care about! The power to fight back! I may not have anyone left to care about but I sure as hell have the power to make the Empire pay!"

"I can't let you do that," she responded as she fell into her double bladed Ataru stance variant.

"A shame," he muttered. "I would have really liked to do some things with you." He shook his head. Without any further words, Luke leapt at Bastila, closing the gap between them instantly. In the close quarters of the narrow hallways, the Jedi Knight had no room to roll to the left or the right. All that she could do was back up and parry his saber with one end of her own. The other blade sliced the wall, sending a shower of sparks into the air.

Luke didn't stop. He kept swinging his weapon, utilizing a fairly standard Makashi form to keep her off balance. She couldn't respond properly in such a small space. She continued to walk backwards, deflecting his blows and slashing the walls as they went. The Sith Initiate pushed the Jedi Knight back at a fairly constant pace. Finally, they reached a door at the far end of the hall, making it impossible for Bastila to retreat any further without breaking her concentration on the fight. Nonetheless, she knew that she wouldn't be able to hold him off without more space and until she got her bearings. Thus, she diverted her attention to the door controls for one moment and used her mind to press the button that would activate it. That single moment cost her dearly.

The Dark Jedi seized the opportunity and plunged his lightsaber towards a gap in her defenses. Bastila saw the oncoming attack and moved to avoid it but she didn't move quickly enough. The blade, which had been aimed at her heart, nicked her shoulder, charring her pale skin black and sending pain lancing down her arm and through her upper body. She cried out in pain as she fell back through the door as it opened. The Jedi Knight collapsed into a large open room, illuminated by pale red lights. Given the amount of equipment in the room, she would have guessed that it was some sort of droid assembly line. Spare parts of decommissioned protocol, mining, and astromech droids were scattered about and piled into overflowing plasteel crates.

Bastila had very little time to take any of this in. Luke had seen his advantage and pressed it harshly. He was over her in the blink of an eye and brought his blade down towards her. Bastila knew that she couldn't safely roll with her weapon in her current position. She tossed it away, causing both amber colored blades to retract into the hilt, and rolled in the opposite direction. His cerulean saber slashed the ground where she had been less than a moment before, leaving a glowing orange burn mark. Bastila stood up and brought her arms up into a fighting stance. It hurt to keep her right arm elevated. The damage to her shoulder was severe and the blade had cut deep. Nonetheless, she remained defiant.

Luke chuckled at her determination. "You don't have to throw your life away, Bastila," he told her as he pointed the tip of his saber at her. "Join me. Together we can overthrow Malak and the Sith Empire. With their resources, we can conquer the Emperor and take control. The galaxy would be ours!"

Bastila's features hardened and her lips curled into a snarl. "You don't know me, Luke," she spat at him. "I don't want that sort of power. I never have!"

"You're a disgrace to the Force," he rebuked her. "And now it's time to die!"

Luke lunged at her. At the same time, she called on the power of the Force to retrieve her lightsaber. It soared through the air, towards her hand. Luke saw it coming and swiped at it as it flew. His blade cut through the the center of the device, causing only one end to reach Bastila. She ignited that end and brought her weapon up just in time to protect herself. The two blades hissed angrily as the two grappled. Luke was physically stronger than the last time they had met. His superior muscle and weight allowed him to push against her, inching both sabers towards her head. The Jedi Knight grunted as she saw that she was losing their contest. Desperately, she called on the Force to grant her strength and tried to push back. She couldn't. He was simply too strong. Her muscles began to twitch as she put all of her strength into repelling her enemy but to no avail.

"Hey!"

The pressure against her suddenly subsided as Luke was snatched away from her and went sailing through the air. Not having expected the sudden shift in weight, Bastila stumbled backwards and fell onto her bottom, crying out in slight shock as she went. When she looked up, she saw her rescuer standing in the door way, massaging his muscular right arm as he glared at Luke.

"Revan?" she gaped as the former Dark Lord.

He wasn't paying attention to her. His focus was on the Sith Initiate picking himself up off of the ground. Luke glared at Revan as he got to his feet. "You!" he hissed at his master's former master. "It wasn't your turn."

"I'm not much of a rule follower," Revan replied. "Keep your hands off of Bastila."

Luke made a perverse sound that resembled a laugh. "You've grown attached to a Jedi, Revan? Malak was right. You are weak!"

This bright a genuine smirk to the Sith Lord's lips. He fell back into a hand-to-hand combat stance, bringing both hands up in a defensive measure. He bounced softly on the balls of his feet, shifting his weight from side to side as he did. Luke noticed the lightsaber, nearly identical to his own, that was clipped to Revan's belt. The Dark Lord was choosing not to use it. His over confidence would be his undoing. Luke flipped his saber upwards and charged Revan.

He attacked with a broad stroke, which his opponent easily ducked to avoid. As Revan came back up to his main height, he jabbed Luke in the stomach and again in the jaw before side stepping to avoid another slash. Revan moved with speed that was difficult for even the Force endowed Bastila to comprehend. When Luke would strike, Revan would dodge and retaliate with a light punch or kick in a poorly defended area. The Lord of Revenge could have hit much harder. He didn't want to spoil his fun though. In his own way, he had come to care for Bastila. The bond between them made him vulnerable and he detested the idea of someone had gone after her. The damage that it could have done to his mind was severe. Therefore, he wanted to hurt Luke. He wanted to humiliate him and show the boy that nothing he could do would be enough. When he finally did get around to killing the young man, it would be after the boy had realized that there was no hope. It would be after he had given up. And so Revan continued on. Unarmed, he made light jabs here and there to frustrate the Sith Initiate.

It did frustrate him. Luke became angrier and angrier as the fight went on. He swung more wildly and with less refinement than when he had started. He soon realized, however, that Revan did have an advantage in terms of speed. Luke was not the idiot that Revan believed him to be. He knew that he would need to change tactics if he were to survive. Therefore, after an aggravating punch to his kidney, Luke turned his attention to Bastila and threw a wave of Force energy at her. It hadn't been a strong one. It simply knocked her backwards again. She hit the wall and felt the wind fly from her.

Revan let his guard down too. While he glanced at Bastila to ensure her safety, Luke send a much stronger wave at him. The Dark Lord flew backwards, crashing into a crate of droid parts and toppling over. Metal debris and defunct components poured over him. Luke didn't give him a chance to regroup, however. He reached out and extended his fingers. Tendrils of white lightning burst from his fingertips, which struck the pile of droid components and Revan. While the electricity rolling over him hurt like hell, the deposed Sith knew what was coming next. He'd always been good with electronics and engineering. As he predicted, the currents that ran through the droids caused several of them to overload. One by one, several of the droids exploded. Revan cried out in pain but that quickly subsided.

A huge cloud of smoke filled the room, obscuring the result of the attack from view. Luke, satisfied that Revan would stay down for the moment, turned to Bastila. "Sorry. Where were we?" he asked her politely.

Before she could respond, a golden droid arm flew through the air and knocked Luke in the head. With a swear, he turned and looked back into the smoke. As it started to dissipate, Revan stepped forward. His clothes were singed and he had some mild burns on his face but overall, he looked no worse for wear. "Kid," he muttered darkly as he shoved the smoke in the room with his mind. "Why'd you stop?" The former Jedi moved quickly, kicking Luke in the stomach. He hadn't pulled the blow that time. He had delivered a bone crunching, full strength kick. Luke could tell the difference as he doubled over. He sputtered for a moment as the air flew out of his gut. His enemy didn't relent though. Revan kept on him. He grabbed Luke's sword hand and twisted it behind him painfully until the Sith Initiate dropped his weapon, which Revan deftly caught. The Dark Lord quickly nicked Luke twice with his own weapon; once in the stomach and once on the kneecap. The younger man's leg gave out beneath him but the sheer force of Revan's grip held him aloft. The Dark Lord physically threw the boy into the wall, which dented on impact. He pressed on, grabbing the Initiate's head and banged it into the metal frame as well, before lifting him by the hair and shoving him violently to his knees, which hurt even more due to the burn wound on one of them. The unrelenting Sith Lord kicked his losing opponent directly in the kidney, causing him to sprawl forward onto the ground.

Revan rounded on him, picking Luke up by the neck and belt before lifting him up overhead. With a feral growl, the Lord of the Sith dropped his fallen enemy to the ground. Luke's back landed directly on Revan's knees. There was no crack or pop. An incredibly loud cry of anguish rang out across the room as the young boy felt pain explode through his entire body. It didn't stop either. He continued to howl as the agony continued to wrack through him. It didn't subside. It didn't go away. It just kept hounding him. That was exactly what Revan had intended. He knew exactly how to drop Luke to inflict the maximum amount of torture. If he had broken the boy's back, it would have been over. The pain wouldn't have been present. It would have been replace by the dull numbness that paralysis brought. He hadn't wanted that. He had simply wanted to hurt the boy as much as possible. He had achieved that goal.

As he prepared to move in for a killing strike, Bastila ran forward and grabbed him by the shoulder. "No!" she cried as she placed herself between the injured moisture farmer and the Sith Lord. "Don't kill him!"

"Get out of my way, Bastila!" he snarled back at her.

"This isn't right! It's not the Jedi way!"

"I'm not a Jedi!" he thundered as he straightened up, making himself as large as possible.

"But you used to be! And by your own admission, you didn't leave the order because you wanted to kill. You left because you abhorred killing the defenseless. Look at him!" She stood aside and gesticulated sharply towards her fallen friend. "Really look at him! He can't fight you anymore! You've won!"

He felt his muscles tense. Revan hadn't resisted the desire to kill in years. Since the end of the Mandalorian Wars, he had always been able to kill who ever he wanted. The lives of others had become so insignificant in his quest to perfect the galaxy. If people didn't fall in line with his idea of perfection, they deserved to die. He wanted to kill Luke. More importantly he wanted to hurt Bastila for defying him. Even though he knew that using lethal force on her would damage his own mind, he wanted to at least punish her for insubordination. He hand curled into a fist but he didn't raise it. Instead, he simply turned and stormed out of the room, leaving Bastila alone with the injured Luke Skywalker.

"Time to rumble," Carth Onasi muttered to himself as he glanced out of the door to Princess Leia's quarters, spotting six or so Sith troopers. He turned and glanced back at Leia, who stood with her E-11 blaster rifle in hand. "Six," he mouthed to her silently. She nodded her understanding before he looked out again. Another person's quarters stood directly opposite Leia's. If the door was unlocked, he could take cover inside and Leia could use her own door frame. The two could open fire on the Sith and probably take them out before they had a chance to retaliate. He glanced back at her. "One, two, three!" he said softly.

On "three," the star pilot dove out into the hallway and hit the button to the door opposite the one where he had been hiding. Much to his surprise and terror, it was locked. He swore loudly as the Sith turned on him. Leia, from cover, started shooting at the squad while her ally was forced to shoot from within plain sight. His twin pistols fired quickly, picking off most of the troopers with ease. The princess was able to finish off the rest of them but not before return fire was initiated. She ducked for cover as most of the shots flew by her door. Carth, on the other hand, had not been so lucky. He took a blaster bolt to the stomach, and collapsed down to one knee.

He grunted painfully as he looked down at his scorched flight jacket. It had absorbed most of the shock of the blast but there had still been enough power left over to pierce his under shirt and the flesh of his stomach. The bolt had fizzled out before going too deep but the soldier definitely would have some trouble walking. "Damn," he muttered to himself as Leia came to stand beside him. "I was having such a good day too."

The princess smiled as she helped him up to his feet and put one of his arms around her shoulder. "We should get to the _Falcon,_" she advised. "We need to get back on the move."

"What about the others?" he asked as he raised his free arm, making sure that he could still shoot if the need should arise. Leia dropped her rifle, finding it too cumbersome to carry in this position and borrowed his secondary pistol instead. The two began to walk in the direction of the docks, slowly, but surely.

"I can worry about finding them once you're safe," she replied as they rounded a corner.

The facility shook again as she finished speaking and the pair looked at each other. Carth shook his head but they kept going. "I don't think that that's such a good idea," he spoke with a pained grunt. "You don't know how many of them are out here. You shouldn't go anywhere alone."

"Sorry Carth," she retorted as she struggled to pull his weight. "You'd just slow me down."

He sighed deeply, knowing the truth of her words. They walked in silence for a few more moments, only covering a few meters in that time. When the tension became too great, he piped up. "So what was that back there?" he asked her seriously.

"What was what?" she responded, though she was more than certain of what he had been referring to when he spoke.

"Us, back in your room. We-,"

"I don't know," she cut him off firmly. "It's been a confusing day for me. I'm not sure what to make of all of it."

"But you kissed me, Leia," he urged her. "Why?"

"What do you mean why?" she snapped.

"I mean why?" the soldier continued. "Was it because you actually like me or because you felt sorry for me because I told you that my wife had died."

"I don't know," the princess answered honestly. "We kissed. It happened. I'm sorry."

"You're sorry," he repeated as he stopped walking, thus bringing her to a halt.

"I didn't mean it like that," she groaned as she rolled her eyes. "And really, I don't think this is the best time!"

"I could bleed out before we reach the ship. This is the perfect time," he retorted.

The Jedi padawan growled in frustration as she started walking again, dragging him along slightly. "Carth, Master Yoda just died. I lost my planet four months back. Darth Vader is my father. Luke is my brother. We were drinking. I kissed you! I don't know what it means!"

"Well do you like me?" he wanted to know.

Leia looked up at him as they kept walking. She didn't say anything. Instead she simply planted a soft kiss on his lips before continuing. They were silent again before Carth couldn't contain himself. "Alright, well now I'm even more confused."

"Good, everyone's here!" Han Solo quipped as Leia and Carth stumbled aboard the _Millennium Falcon_ a good fifteen minutes later. The smuggler walked by the boarding ramp and continued towards the cockpit.

"Everyone?" Leia repeated.

"That old windbag wouldn't get off my ship and I sure wasn't leaving her here alone," he shouted from the captain's chair. "Chewie and I stayed here. The old man showed up right after the explosions started. Revan stormed in a few minutes ago. And best of all, Bastila brought Luke back!"

"Luke?" Leia repeated as she looked to Carth. He nodded and pushed her arm away. She gave him an appreciative glance before running towards the men's quarters. Sure enough, Luke was sprawled out on one of the beds in a state of semi-consciousness. He looked as though he had sustained a few serious injuries. Most of his face was now covered in bruises and a nasty looking gash had opened on the right temple, which continued to bleed freely. His shirt had been stripped away and several discolored welts and contusions were visible across his tan skin. His stomach sported a rather large third degree burn wound, which had cauterized and now had a crusty ash-like look to it. A similar injury would be seen on his left kneecap. What ever had hit him had burned away most of the fabric of his trousers in that area, leaving the ghastly wound fully exposed. As for the young man himself, him whimpered pitifully in agony.

Both Bastila and R2-D2 were beside her estranged brother, providing what little medical attention that they could. Leia's Jedi Master held a bloody cloth in her hand, with which she had been cleaning the bloody wound on his forehead. The astromech droid had fixed a tray to one of his many normally concealed arm attachments, providing a medical table for the Jedi to utilize. It chirped softly as Leia entered and came to kneel beside her brother's bed.

"What happened to him?" she demanded as she accepted the cloth from Bastila and took over first aid.

"Leia," Bastila said calmly as she put a hand on her apprentice's shoulder. "There's something that you need to know."

The Princess of Alderaan barely paid her friend any attention. Her training had kicked in and she had diverted most of her focus to checking her patient. Based on what she could see, it was likely that he had a few cracked ribs and his shoulder looked to have been dislocated. Based on the regular pattern of breathing and steady utterances coming from him, she deduced that neither of his lungs had collapsed and that he was safely breathing on his own. His eyes stood about half open but appeared to be glazed over. He probably had sustained some sort of a concussion. Fortunately, that looked like the most serious injury.

"Luke," she murmured, trying to see if he was cognizant of his surroundings. "Can you hear me?"

"Leia, listen to me!" the Jedi Knight ordered as she grabbed her friend by both shoulders and turned her so that they were facing one another.

"What?" the princess snapped angrily. "He needs medical attention!"

"I know what Obi-Wan and Yoda told you! I know that you want to help him but you have to listen to me. Luke has fallen to the dark side. He tried to kill me back there!" To emphasize the point, she indicated the burn mark on her right shoulder, where his lightsaber had pierced her defenses.

Leia didn't say anything. Her eyes found their way to the floor and she thought deeply for a moment. Then she knocked both of Bastila's arms away with one of her own and turned her attention back towards Luke. She didn't have a significant amount of first aid experience. All she could do was clean the gash and the burns. The rest would simply have to heal on its own. A bacta pack for the concussion might help, though she didn't know to what extent. As she considered this, Leia idly began to dab at the bleeding injury across Luke's forehead.

Bastila nodded, knowing that her friend would need some time alone to process the information. In his current state, Luke didn't pose a threat to his sister. The Jedi put a reassuring hand on Leia's shoulder as she stood up. "If he starts to wake up or become self-aware, call me," she ordered. Leia nodded but didn't say anything in response. So with that, Bastila exited, leaving the twins alone for the first time in their lives.

The Princess of Alderaan felt the ship lurch beneath her and knew the they had just taken off. She didn't know how many Sith troopers were still aboard the facility and she didn't really care. All that she was aware of was a familial need to take care of her brother. Maybe he had fallen to the dark side of the Force. Maybe he had tried to kill them all. It didn't matter. Right now, all that she care about was helping him; relieving his agony and getting him nursed back to health. Everyone would deal with the consequences when the time came.

"Hey."

Leia rolled her eyes, a bit agitated that her moment of solitude had been interrupted so quickly. She turned and looked at Carth as he painfully walked into the room, holding the wall for support. She only fixed him with an inquisitive glance but didn't speak. He hobbled over to one of the other beds and took a seat. Relief was apparent. He slowly tried to unbuckle his flight jacket but had considerable difficulty due to the hole in his gullet. The princess sighed, a feeling of sympathy for her friend washing over her. She glanced at her brother before setting aside his blood stained cloth and walking over to Carth.

"Hold still," she ordered him softly as she began to undo the toggles of his jacket.

"You don't have to help me," he told her as he tried to push her hands away.

"Carth stop," she said firmly as she grabbed both of his hands between her own. They looked each other right in the eyes and in that moment, the emotions flowed more freely between them than if a Force bond had been connecting their minds. Her delicate brown eyes were quivering, as though she were holding back the sheer weight of what she felt inside. Incredible sorrow, regret, and depression were apparent within them. They plead silently with him, begging him to just listen to her and let her help him. She had been through enough in the last few months. Her mission to recruit Obi-Wan Kenobi had resulted in the death of her ship's entire crew. She had been taken aboard the Death Star and tortured for days before her rescue. Her entire home world had been wiped out. Months later, on this very day, she had learned that the man who had overseen her interrogation and agony aboard the Emperor's space station and who had used it to destroy her home had been her own father. Now, to compound the pain she felt, her estranged brother had returned with the intention of killing her. Simply put, she had had enough. She just needed peace. She needed solace. She needed to feel like there was something in her life that wasn't beyond her control.

Carth returned her gaze with his hardened brown eyes. Despite everything that he too felt behind his eyes, he understood what she wanted. He knew that it would be selfish to turn her away. With that, the soldier let his hands fall limply beside him and allowed the lovely young woman to unbutton his jacket. He grimaced painfully when reached the partially singed mid-section of the garment, which had partially melted into his skin. The Republic pilot grit his teeth as it separated from his charred flesh and let out a loud grunt when at last it came free completely.

"Sorry," she mumbled as she continued.

"Your bedside manner could use some work," he chuckled through still grit teeth.

Leia somehow found it within herself to smirk at the comment as she reached the top button. Once it was loose, she pushed the jacket down his shoulders and let it fall into a slump behind him. He wore a black skintight shirt beneath the out layer, which accentuated his strong build. "This is going to hurt," she warned him as she slipped her fingers beneath the hem at the bottom of the garment. He nodded as he steeled himself for what was about to come. She quickly pulled the shirt up, over the cauterized flesh, peeling it away from the wound. He coughed violently as the muscles in his arms and legs tensed as raw fleshed pulled away from his body. He didn't have the focus to pull the shirt over his head. It just hung above the injury, well out of their way. The princess stopped and looked up at him. He simply nodded that he was alright and she turned her eyes back to the hole in his gut. "It doesn't look good," she commented. "But a bacta patch on it for a few hours should help considerably."

"Han has a supply," he commented through the pain that radiated in the torso area.

"Lay back," she told him as she pushed him onto his back softly. Carth begrudgingly obliged, groaning as he did.

"I'll go get you a patch," she told him. "But then I need to take care of Luke."

Carth nodded that he understood and Leia stood up to leave. Before she could, he reached for and took her hand into his own. The Rebel Senator looked back at him and saw that he looked so pitiful, looking up at her. It looked as if he wanted to say something in that moment but didn't have the nerve. She felt that it was probably for the best. Discussing what had happened between them earlier really didn't rank on her priority list. She tugged her hand away gently before walking out of the room, leaving both of the injured men in her life alone in the room together.


	25. Idle

**The Darkest Lord**

**Chapter XXV: Idle**

Darth Revan stood inside of the men's fresher aboard the _Millennium Falcon, _his well build frame bent over the sink. Cold water poured from the faucet, circling the drain before slithering away. The Dark Lord put his hands beneath the cool water, washing the dirt and grime from his previous battle away as he scrubbed them. Although he had defeated Luke Skywalker back in Cloud City, he had not come away unscathed. The Sith Initiate had been far more powerful than he had expected and their brief, yet decisive, conflict had taken its toll. Several burn marks ran across Revan's exposed flesh from where electrical currents and exploding droids had made contact. Once his hands were clean, he splashed some water onto his body in order to sooth the injuries. This had little effect unfortunately. He would simply have to wait out the pain. On the plus side, his naturally accelerated healing rate would ensure that the wait would be a short one.

He touched a charred blackened mark on his right cheek. It stung on contact, though he did not retract his hand. Looking in the mirror, Revan marveled at how old he looked. It had only been a few years, from his perspective, since he had left the Jedi Order. In that time, he had aged at an unbelievable rate. Harsh lines had formed upon his brow and thick bags were visibly apparent beneath his amber eyes. His skin appeared to be very dry and drawn tightly across his bones. While his face remained relatively clear of all blemishes and imperfections, the number of scars and marks upon his body were too numerous to count. How many times had he sustained blaster shots and laser burns? How many bones had been broken and never properly healed? A man only in his late twenties and Revan had the look of someone at least a decade older. And as he gazed at his own reflection, an emotion that he had not felt in a very long time came over him; regret.

If Revan had any single regret since joining the Rebel Alliance, it would have been that he had been idle. Not idle in a physical sense. Escaping Naboo and Bespin had been no small feat and it had required much of his energy. Yet he mentally rebuked himself because for the first time since leaving the Jedi Order, he hadn't developed a plan. The Dark Lord felt as though he had become a reactionary individual. His companions and enemies had dictated his actions for far too long. When Malak sent his new apprentice, Revan had adapted. When the Sith took Cloud City, Revan had adapted. At no point had he decided on a proper course of action to execute any of his long term goals. If he was being entirely honest with himself, which he was not, he couldn't even explain what his long term goals were anymore.

For years, all that he had wanted to do was rid the galaxy of the Jedi Knights; to create a new society that didn't rely on the Force and its chosen few to dictate the lives of the many. Upon coming forward in time, he had discovered that very society. The Jedi were gone. His lifelong ambition had been fulfilled without him. Now a single Sith Lord ruled in their place. Revan couldn't decide if that fact really mattered. Most of the galaxy was not aware of his connection to the Force and no one looked to him for a Jedi's council. He just happened to be a corrupt megalomaniac who utilized its power to fulfill his wishes but did that really affect the majority of people? Of the trillions of intelligent citizens of the Empire, how many were directly impacted by the corrupt figurehead? While the number may have been high, Revan sincerely doubted that it was any significant percentage of the population. All in all, the people were getting by just fine without the Force.

The Emperor needed to be removed from power. Revan wouldn't question that. His hatred of corruption had lead him to rebel against the Republic and it lead him to join the Rebel Alliance against the Empire now. That fact had been blurred from him before. When he had been the Lord of the Sith, his own power had blinded him to that truth. He had been more preoccupied gaining a tactical foothold than focusing on the intellectual or moral matters at hand. Though he would loath to admit it, his new allies, even the Jedi, had helped him see the universe in a different light again. The Emperor needed to die. It was for the greater good.

Beyond that, he had no concept of what to do. He didn't have a plan to assassinate the tyrannical despot. The deposed Sith didn't even have an inkling as to how he would approach Coruscant or breach the blockade that his cowardly enemy had set up around the core worlds. More importantly, what would he do after the war was over? The war with the Republic looked as if it would have been endless. His men, a few tens of thousands with their cutting edge ships and technology, had planned to conquer the entirety of the Republic, which had consisted of hundreds of worlds and trillions of citizens. Sheer numbers had made it impossible to foresee an end. This situation was different. Killing Palpatine could take as little as a month, if carefully executed. Would he have a life after the fact? What would he do with it?

Darth Revan had no intention of becoming a Sith leader again. What would the point have been? If the galaxy had truly become free of the Force, his dark side followers would only serve to throw it out of balance again. Becoming an elected politician seemed both impossible and uninteresting. He preferred to sway the course of legislation with a blade instead of rhetoric and academia. Could he simply retire to some pleasure planet and live out the rest of his days in peace? Would he even be content with such a dull existence after years of adventure and warfare?

Unsure of what any of these feelings meant for his future, the deposed Sith Lord shut off the water from his sink and exited the fresher. Stepping into the barracks, he crossed over to his bunk, where all of his supplies rested, and pulled a fresh black tunic from out of his case. Revan dressed himself quickly and left the room. Nothing on the ship particularly interested him at that moment. The old man, Obi-Wan, had retreated into one of the cargo holds to wallow in self-pity yet again. Princess Leia had not left the women's barracks, where she had been busily tending the wounds of her traitorous brother; a little tidbit of information that he had picked up from Bastila. The two smugglers and their Wookiee companions were in the cockpit, reminiscing by the sound of their laughter. He didn't know offhand where Traya had hidden away. Given her tendency to remain unseen, he didn't much concern himself with her whereabouts. R2-D2 had busied itself in the Hyperdrive room and judging by the prissy protests coming from there, C-3P0 had followed.

As he walked into the main common area, he found Carth Onasi sitting shirtless beside the gaming table, applying a series of bacta patches to the blaster wound in his stomach. His flight jacket and undershirt were in a pile beside him and Bastila sat across from him, reading a datapad. Revan found it odd that the Jedi wasn't lending medical assistance to the Republic Commander, who looked up at him as he entered.

"Shot?" the Sith Lord inquired casually.

Carth simply grunted an affirmative and went back to tending his injury. Revan simply walked by and sat opposite the young woman, who didn't bother to look up. A worried look ran across her pale features and it was evident that she was trying to ignore him. He made this impossible when he reached out and grabbed the pad, blocking the view screen with his fingers. The Jedi didn't release her grip on the device but didn't struggle for it either. With a sigh, her gray eyes flicked up and met his.

"The Empire's winning," she commented dully. "While we've been missing in action, they've taken four Rebel outposts. Hoth was one of our last resorts. Everyone was killed."

"That's Imperial media talking," he responded. "Some of them got away."

Across the room, Carth looked up from his sterilized gauze pads and frowned; unable to register that Revan had said something comforting to another human being. The remark did little to assuage Bastila's feelings. She leaned back in her seat and crossed one leg over the other. Revan released the pad and she simply let it fall into her lap.

"I don't know how we came to any of this," she commented. Her look shifted towards Carth, beckoning him to become a part of the conversation. "The three of us. This isn't our war. We should have died thousands of years ago after fighting a bitter war with one another."

Neither of the men in the room failed to notice just how out of character the statement sounded coming from her. Bastila had usually managed to maintain an optimistic outlook on affairs. Her unwavering faith in the will of the Force and the Jedi Code helped her see through the darkest of times. This shift in the dynamics of her personality was worrisome to both of her companions, though for obvious differing reasons.

It led Revan to recall when Mina had tasted first blood during the Mandalorian Wars. A similar girl. Similar circumstances. All of the foundation from a lifetime of training and upbringing had vanished. These months since a cosmic accident had brought them all forward in time had been the first time in her life that she had been truly on her own and it weighed heavily on her. Considering his own feelings from before, it seemed that Bastila had also aged considerably since becoming a part of this galactic civil war.

"We're needed here," he assured her. "Dying in the war between our two peoples would have been a waste. There's more that we can contribute here, in this time, together."

The Jedi shook her head uncertainly. Revan reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. The gesture felt awkward. He hadn't done it in quite some time and it seemed as though he had forgotten how to do it properly. "Luke was my responsibility," she stated. "On Yavin, before he was taken, he was with me. We were exploring a disturbance in the Force together and I let Exar-Kun take him. Now he's lying in there. Broken."

"To be fair, that was mostly my fault," he pointed out. "And he'll recover. Give it some time."

"My first padawan fell to the dark side."

"Would you stop feeling sorry for yourself," Carth snapped from across the room.

The sudden outburst from the soldier alarmed the Force-users. They looked at him in surprise and found him pulling his shirt over his well-toned form. "Bastila, the rest of us have lived without the Force to guide us our whole lives and we've been just fine. You lost everything when we came forward. So did I. You feel like you screwed up because you had one charge who went rogue? How do you think I feel when I consider my wife and son? They both burned with Telos and there wasn't a damn thing I could do to stop it. We've all been dealt a bad pazaak hand. But we keep going. We buckle up our boots, find something to keep fighting for, and then we fight on. This war; it isn't pretty. It isn't noble. We're splitting a galaxy in half. But I believe that it's the right thing to do. I believe it needs to be done. And so I do what I can. You should focus on what we can do to fix things rather than wallow."

With the conclusion of the soldier's speech, he turned and walked out, grabbing his jacket as he did. The event left both Revan and Bastila a little speechless for a moment. They had never expected that kind of attitude from Carth. The Republic Commander mostly kept to himself. Both had sensed that he had a passing interest in Leia but neither had felt that sort of passion or zeal beneath the surface.

"Huh," Revan murmured. "I think I'm starting to like him."

Bastila could only scowl at his reaction. She stood up, tossing the datapad aside, and began to pace the room uncertainly, throwing a look in Revan's direction every couple of seconds. The silence that had fallen between the two had become awkward and neither really knew what to say.

"Sit down," he ordered her when the tension grew too great, his tone commanding and stern.

While she didn't do as instructed, her pacing came to a halt and the young Jedi Knight just looked at the former Lord of the Sith. "What do we even do now?" she asked.

Revan stood and closed the gap between them with a long stride. Placing both of his hands on her shoulders, he looked the woman in the eyes and tried to convey his most sincere tone when he spoke. "We recover," he told her. "We treat our wounded. Nurse everyone who needs it back to full health. Then we all sit down, come up with a plan, and put it into action."

"What plan?" she urged him.

And after months of having been idle, the brilliant Jedi General, master tactician, and calculating Sith Lord re-emerged. As a result of one single question, Revan's mind began to race. Almost like a computer, he started calling up a mental checklist of resources, allies, and advantages that he could pull together. When he had been the Lord of the Sith, there were those who had been loyal to him. Surely there were still people in his armada that would choose him over Malak. If he had to guess, he could probably rally a few hundred men and women to his cause. Moreover, he had stricken a deal with the Mandalorians. They had agreed to fight on his behalf. Word from the holonet suggested that there had been a coup de tat and Kalius Fett had assumed the title of Mandalore and Gladius Vevut, the Mandalorian with whom Revan had primarily communicated, had been put into a slave labor camp on Mandalore Prime.

If Revan could liberate the rightful Mandalorian leader and recruit his forces into a small army, it was possible that they could build a new force to strike back at the Emperor. The only question that remained regarded the Sith fleet under Malak's control. Could he reassume his previous role in that empire, if such a term even applied anymore? Would they accept him back as their commander? Did he even trust those men and women anymore?

"I have an idea," he told Bastila with a genuine smile. "Trust me."

For some reason, his voice did calm her anxious mind. With a nod, she accepted the words at face value and put her hands on his wrists, pushing them away from her shoulders. "Thank you, Revan. I don't know why but I needed to hear that."

The Dark Jedi chuckled. "You are incredibly self-obsessed for a Jedi," he said honestly. "When something good happens, you're a prodigy. When something goes wrong, you're a failure. Exar-Kun was going to get loose eventually. What if Luke hadn't been there? Maybe you'd be Darth Malak's apprentice right now and maybe you'd be laying in the men's room having been beaten within an inch of your life."

"Malak's apprentice?" Bastila repeated with a very dry laugh. "There is no version of reality where that could ever happen."

Revan chuckled again and nodded. "You're probably right. You're more powerful than him anyways."

Bastila looked at him, an eyebrow raised. "You really believe that?" she asked.

"Maybe," he replied. "You could be, with the right training."

"Sith training?" the Jedi said with disgust.

"Possibly," he confirmed. "You really do remind me of an old friend of mine, Bastila. You were both very... Jedi."

"You have friends, Revan?" she countered with a stern eye.

The former Lord of the Sith gave a very long sigh and shook his head a negative. "I suppose not anymore," he admitted. "Not since I became _Darth _Revan."

"Why did you then?" she asked him with sincere curiosity. "You've never seemed happy since I met you. You talk about how you sacrificed everything. What was the point? What was your end game?"

Revan stopped to consider the question for a moment. He frowned as he processed the last several years of his life in his head. On the one hand, he had rehearsed an answer to that very question for years. He'd even managed to convince the man who looked back at him in the mirror each morning that the story had been true. The reason that he had adopted the Sith mantle and become the Dark Lord had been for the Republic's good. It had been to eliminate the Jedi, who had needlessly cost the lives of so many millions of men and women during the early days of the Mandalorian Wars. Had it though? Had it really been for that reason? In part, it had to have been. There had been another reason though. He had never discussed it with anyone. Traya and Malak, his closest allies in the days before his apprentice's betrayal, were never privy to the other reason. The former Jedi wouldn't have told Bastila either, were it not for the bond between them. In the brief moment where he had thought about her questions, his mental shielding had slipped and the young Talravin Jedi had been able to glean the thoughts on the surface of his mind. "Your friend? The one you just mentioned."

Revan simply nodded. "Her name was Mina," he stated bitterly. "Malak murdered her."

"I'm sorry," Bastila told him as she put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Revan grunted at the gesture and pushed her hand away. "Don't," he sneered contemptuously. "It was a long time ago. It doesn't matter now." With that, the Dark Jedi moved out of his bondmate's reach and crossed his arms. "And stay out of my mind."

"You've never hesitated to look through my thoughts," she retorted.

"Your thoughts aren't a living nightmare."

That hadn't been the response that Bastila had expected. In their time together, Revan had been snide. He had been crude. He had been self-serving. He had certainly been inconsiderate of her feelings regarding their rather inconvenient mental arrangement. During that period, the Dark Lord had never opened up about his past or his emotions on any level. During their training sessions, when he had been more focused on physical reality rather than his mental defenses, she had managed to glean surface thoughts. That had never been very deep. He fought with raw emotions; anger primarily and foremost. Penetrating beyond that wall of untempered rage had been too difficult to attempt while fighting one another. His comment about living in a nightmare appeared to be a more vulnerable side. Had he really just opened up to her in that manner?

"Was she the woman that you...courted during the Mandalorian Wars?"

The Sith Lord flashed her a surprised look, which also didn't appear overly pleased. "How did you know about that?"

"When our minds first linked, I saw the two of you together."

"How together?" he asked.

"Intimately," she confirmed.

Revan frowned and then shrugged. He stood up abruptly and started for the door. "You should try it sometime," he remarked passively. The Jedi Knight scoffed in response and looked away from the Sith Lord. He chuckled as he reached the door and turned back to her. "You know, Bastila, the Jedi were a fundamentally flawed order. It might be wise to consider that when you start your foolhardy quest to rebuilt."

The Jedi shook her head. "The order existed in the form that you and I knew for thousands of years, Revan. The masters knew best when they founded our order."

"It's possible," he conceded. "But consider this. Exar Kun, Ulic Qel-Droma, Malak, most of the Sith in our empire, Luke, and Darth Vader all started out as Jedi. Nothing in the galaxy has fueled the ranks of the Sith as the Jedi Order has." Bastila opened her mouth to respond but no words came out. She closed it and tried to think of something to say. Revan waited patiently but when it became evident that she had no response, he continued. "Just think about it. You can make a better future for your people. A future where they aren't slaves to their emotions; where the Jedi are masters of their feelings and can truly be themselves without repressing their true sentient nature."

"We don't suppress our emotions. We simply learn how to keep them in control. We derive serenity from logic and-,"

Revan turned and did something unexpected while she spoke. In a very smooth motion, he reached forward and wrapped both of his arms around her body, sliding one arm around her waist and one up her back. In a controlling but gentle move, he pulled her close to himself and pressed his lips into hers, silencing her. Bastila squealed in surprise but, despite herself, didn't try to break away. Her hands fell awkwardly on his arms, ready to push them away, but she did nothing. The Jedi simply stood there, uncertain of what to do while Revan held her close to him.

The kiss lasted just a few moments before the Dark Jedi broke his lips away from hers and rested his forehead against hers. "That's an emotion that you've suppressed," he whispered softly to her.

"I- what – I- did you-," she stammered, unsure of herself.

"Shhhhhh," he urged her softly before leaning in and kissing her again. As he did, he moved his arm up her back and around to the back of her neck, running his fingers through her soft brunette hair. This time, Bastila allowed herself to relent a little. Her fingers wrapped around his arms and she leaned into the experience, exploring the sensation. Strangely, she felt oddly warm at the experience of his touch. A flushed sensation came over her and she was certain that her face had gone bright red. The feeling of her heart beating against her chest began and continued to grow more rapid as the seconds ticked on. Her mouth opened ever so slightly and the Jedi felt Revan's lips close over her quivering lower lip.

And then it stopped. A striking feeling darted through the Force and both of them felt it. Their eyes opened and they pulled away. "What is that?" she inquired as an overwhelming presence weighed down on her mind.

"Malak," he hissed as he looked up towards the ceiling of the _Falcon. _

The Dark Lord pushed passed his companion and jogged out of the common area. Bastila was on his heels and followed him as he darted into the cockpit of the ship. The two Force users arrived to find the cockpit crew scurrying over various controls and instruments.

"What is it?" Bastila asked urgently.

"A ship just came out of Hyperspace," Lando responded as he examined the radar to the right of the co-pilot's seat. "Big one."

"No," Han corrected. "More than one."

"Two," the other smuggler amended. "Wait. Three!"

Chewbacca whined softly as he pointed out something on the navigational charts behind the two seats at the head of the small room. Revan moved to the Wookiee's position and checked the computer screen there. Sure enough, he could see dozens of small power signatures had cropped up as obstacles in the navicomputer.

"Three heavy cruisers and an accompaniment of snub fighters," he confirmed. "Exploration unit."

"Imperial?" Bastila asked.

"No. Sith."

With that, the _Millennium Falcon _shuddered violently. Chewbacca slammed painfully into the metal frame of the door and growled ferociously. Han toppled out of his seat and crashed into the navigational computer while Lando was able to keep his place by holding securely onto the console before him. Bastila started to lose her balance but Revan, who had expected the quake, reached out and grabbed her, keeping her on her feet.

"We're caught in a tractor beam!" Lando shouted, checking his instruments.

"Damn it," the Dark Lord swore as released Bastila.

The ship's captain pulled himself back into his seat and his hands started racing across his controls. "Charging weapons," he informed the crew. "Get down to the turrets. We'll have to knock out their beam emitters to break free."

"We won't have time," Revan replied. "They're about to immobilize us."

With that, he turned on his heel and ran in the other direction. He didn't have time to confer with the others. Once the _Millennium Falcon _was within range of the Sith vessel's ventilation systems, it would be gassed. Everyone aboard would be taken prisoner and held for interrogation or execution. He knew the tactic well. It was one of his own.

Before he could reach the primary cargo hold, plumes of white mist began to pour out of the vents near the ceiling. It had started. Inwardly, the Dark Lord cursed as he inhaled deeply, taking a big gulp of clean air before the gas surrounded him. When he arrived in the back of the ship, knocking over several plasteel crates and canisters in the process, Revan stopped in front of his faithful assassin droid: HK-47.

"HK-47, activate hibernation protocol zero-one-three-nine. Upon reactivation, boot homing protocols and return to my position."

The command took a second to process. The droid's blinking red photoreceptors dimmed for a moment before the machine straightened up and the lights illuminated again.

"Statement: Hibernation Protocol Zero-One-Three-Nine loading. This HK-47 unit will go into recovery stasis for the next one hundred and twenty minutes." And with that, the droid shut down.

Revan felt a small sense of relief that he had managed to convey the order. When next he inhaled, the tart scent of the gas burned his nostrils and its effects were almost immediate. He could feel a dazed fog wash over his senses and knew that it was only a matter of minutes before he would fall unconscious. Nonetheless, he had insured their survival. With HK-47 active, the Sith would have a problem on their hands. Hopefully the droid would move fast enough to stage an effective rescue.

Mere moments later, Darth Revan collapsed upon the hard metal floor of the _Millennium Falcon_ with a loud thud. Of the crew, he was the one to remain awake the longest.


	26. Interrogation

**The Darkest Lord**

**Chapter XXVI: Interrogation**

Admiral Saul Karath stepped over the threshold of his new flagship's sick bay, a bright smile on his gruff features. The Sith officer walked softly through the room, ignoring the various greetings and salutes from his junior officers and medical teams. Crossing to the far end of the room, Saul reached a single bio-bed where one of his Cathar doctors worked with the patient that he had come to visit. As soon as the young female physician realized that the admiral stood behind her, she hastened to give a final injection to her charge before scurrying off elsewhere. When she was gone, Saul came to stand directly beside the bed where Luke Skywalker was flat on his back.

"Admiral," the Sith Initiate acknowledged with a nod as he sat up, massaging the back of his head. He could still feel a slight knot there from when Darth Revan had struck him while in Cloud City. Most of the pain had subsided though and the rest would not compromise his work. The staff aboard _The Leviathan _had done good work. Most of his injuries had recovered nicely and would be completely gone within a few days.

"How are you, Master Skywalker?" the older man asked as he crossed his arms over his neatly pressed uniform. He made sure that his right hand rested just below the rank insignia on his left breast, underlining it. He felt threatened by the young man's presence on his ship. It had taken him years and countless compromises to earn the rank that he had achieved. A person no older than a boy should have had no right to endanger his command.

"Several fractures, mild internal bleeding, and a concussion. Nothing your staff couldn't handle."

"Are you fit for duty?"

"Yes," Luke replied as he stood up and grabbed his black tunic from the table beside his bed. "Where is the crew of the _Millennium Falcon?_"

Saul noted just how eager the young Sith seemed to be to resume his duties. Despite his impressive rank, the Sith admiral held no authority over Darth Malak's prospective apprentice. If he wanted to, Luke could assume command of _The Leviathan_ and relieve the seasoned soldier of his duties. This had always been a problem within the order. The mixture of religious and military rank blurred the lines of the chain of command and Saul had no doubt that Luke lacked the command experience to captain a ship. Hopefully he could keep the apprentice entertained until Lord Malak arrived and took charge of the situation. Relinquishing command to a child would be not only humiliating but possibly catastrophic to everyone aboard.

"They're sedated," the admiral replied to the initiate's question. "They've been restrained in the brig for several hours."

"I want to interrogate Darth Revan, Darth Traya, Bastila Shan, and Princess Leia. The others are of no consequence to me."

"Of course, milord, but there is one small problem," Saul replied as he beckoned the younger man to follow him. The two walked out of the medical facility and down the lengthy halls of the Sith heavy cruiser. "Lady Traya was not aboard the freighter when we searched it. We were hoping that you could tell us what became of her."

Luke frowned. "She was aboard when they captured me," he spoke softly. "I don't remember what happened after being taken though. It's possible that Revan sent her on a mission."

"We will need to ascertain the exact nature of such a mission."

"I am aware," the Dark Jedi snapped. "Bring me the other three. They'll tell me what I need to know."

Sith procedure regarding salvaged droids was simplistic at best. Any active units found during the course of a sweep were deactivated, sent to be processed, and analyzed. If the machine was deemed valuable, it was repaired, had its memory wiped, and put into active service. If not, it was disassembled and used for parts. The three droids from the _Millennium Falcon _all stood, inactive, in a large holding room. Only a few others surrounded their idle forms. Evidently, the Sith had not captured many in the previous few weeks. A single technician sat at a table near the head of the dimly lit circular room, tweaking the silver arm of a disabled protocol droid with a hydrospanner.

This technician, a middle aged Sullustan, did not notice when the dimmed photoreceptors of a rust colored assassination flashed bright red and the unit straightened its back, suddenly active without warning. The droid's head rotated on its axel, taking in the scene around it and processing the intel with which it had to work. Upon finding only a single unarmed guard before it, the droid made a decision on how to proceed. It simply walked forward towards the desk where the alien worked. About half way there, the Sullustan glanced up and saw what he believed to be a protocol droid activating.

"Who turned you on, huh?" the creature asked in its native fast paced tongue.

Then HK-47 reached the desk and looked down at the technician. With a single motion, the assassin droid reached across the desk and wrapped its metal fingers around the man's throat and applied bone crushing pressure that only a droid could match before lifting its victim into the air.

"Statement: You are an obstacle in finding the master and must be exterminated. Prepare for death, Meatbag."

With that, the HK unit gave a simple jerk of its iron grip, snapping the alien's neck. A wave of positive receptor signals passed through HK-47's positronic neural net, signaling satisfaction it. If the droid were capable of smiling, it would have done as much. It had been far too long since the master had allowed it to kill anything. Now was a chance to make up for lost time.

The assassin droid turned and stalked over towards its two companions, R2-D2 and C-3PO. Reactivating the protocol droid was as simple as flipping the switch found on the right side of its neck. Once complete, the two bulbous eye sockets lit up and the droid stood erect.

"Oh well now what is the meaning of this!" the gold plated unit sputtered upon seeing HK-47. "Where are we? What trouble have you gotten us into?"

"Statement: It would appear that we have been captured by Sith forces. The Master activated my assassination and homing protocols before being disabled. Objective: Find the master and kill as many Sith meatbags as possible."

"Well I don't see how you're going to do that," 3P0 replied timidly. "We're trapped on this ship with no way out and you don't even have a weapon."

"Mockery: -you don't even have a weapon." The statement was a perfect replica of the other droid's vocal patterns. "Condescending Statement: Protocol droid, I am one of the finest assassination units ever built. If you think that I need a weapon to kill my enemies, you had best adjust your primary analytical matrix. It seems to be failing."

"How rude."

"Statement: We need to reactivate this astromech droid," HK-47 said whilst gesturing towards R2-D2. "Its ability to interface with the ship's computer will provide valuable intelligence."

C-3P0 turned towards his counterpart and tapped its dome shaped head a few times. "R2-D2, wake up. This is hardly the time for a nap."

The vibrations in its matrix were enough to jolt the small utility unit awake and a red light flickered on in its dome. The droid's mechanical dome swiveled and it chirped several times.

"Now is not the time for jokes," 3PO rebuked.

"Order: R2, use the ship's primary interface junction in order to download ship wide schematics and then upload them to my data core."

The smaller droid beeped indignantly but nonetheless did as commanded. It put down its feet and rolled over to the conduit near the door. An interfacing device ejected from its cylinder shaped body and inserted itself into the computer drive. A few clicks and rotations later and the little guy beeped again.

"Query: The master has been taken where?" Another beep, bop, and a chirp. "Query: What of the other meatbags with whom the master insists on traveling?"

R2 did not answer for a moment and then beeped excitedly. "The detention deck is on this level?" C-3P0 repeated. "Oh my."

"Statement: Very well. I will rescue my master's pets before moving to the interrogation center and liberating the master. Come along, inferior droid units!"

HK-47 turned away from its two companions and opened the automatic door to the room. As it slid open, C-3P0's eyes lit up in shock. "No wait! What about the guards?"

Sure enough, two golden armored Sith troopers stood just outside of the room. HK-47 was undeterred by their presence, however. Before the two men knew how to react, the droid had moved on them. The assassin reached out and pulled a blaster pistol from a guard's belt. With pinpoint accuracy, it fired two rounds into the weak spot of their standard issue armor's neck region, killing them both instantly. Once they were dead, it tossed aside the sidearm and reached down in favor of one of their modified Sith issue blaster rifles.

"Statement: Aw. A proper weapon. My arm is complete again."

At the vicious display of violence, C-3PO looked down at R2-D2 in amazement. While it did, HK-47 wasted no time in moving down the hallway. The sound of blaster fire could soon be heard and then the victorious sound of "Statement: Terminate hostilities and your deaths will be less painful, Meatbags!"

A Sith interrogation chamber was an intimidating place. Revan had designed them as such. They were dimly lit rooms filled with cages and different devices for extracting information from a target in the most painful ways imaginable. Different tools, both modern and archaic lined the walls. The point had been to make the subject feel as though there were an endless variety of tortures and pains that could be inflicted to extinguish any faint glimmer of hope. The subject was meant to believe that nothing but divulgence of the desired information could stop the agony. Needless to say, it was not a pleasant realization when Revan found himself waking up inside of one of these gloomy abodes.

The Dark Lord groaned as he rolled over, feeling hard ground beneath him, and pushed himself to his feet. As he suspected, he had been contained inside of a force cage. It took him less than a second to rub the weariness from his eyes and take in his surroundings. All of his possessions had been taken from him and his clothes had been stripped away, leaving him in nothing but his undergarments. The electromagnetic field around him ran with a strong current that crackled and sputtered without provocation, indicating that the cage had been set to a very high frequency. Touching it would no doubt char and blacken the flesh. To his left, Leia stood straight in a similar cage while Bastila sat lotus style to his right. Both were dressed only in their underwear as well. Even the pins and clips that had held their hair in place had been taken away, leaving their long locks of brown hair to flow freely.

Revan recognized the mechanics of the cage. The emitters overhead and beneath him contained Force nullifying technology straight from the Star Forge. While his senses had not been dulled at all, he would not be able to properly channel his powers in order to disrupt the current around him. He was trapped. Though he hadn't had time to expect any of this before, when the _Millennium Falcon _had been attacked, the situation didn't come as any surprise to him. These were his own protocols being used against him. He was completely trapped in his own system. All he could do was wait and hope that HK-47 came through sooner rather than later.

"Are you two alright?" he asked the women.

Bastila looked up from her meditation, having not realized that he had woken up. The two locked eyes through their cages and Revan gave her a reassuring nod. "Do we have a plan?" Leia asked from his other side.

"Yes. We wait," he replied as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "And when we get the chance, we act." That, as expected, did not reassure the princess in the least but he couldn't say more. Security monitoring systems were stationed throughout the room, invisible to the naked eye. The Sith could hear every word and he couldn't risk them detecting his droid before a breakout attempt. Leia simply rolled her eyes and sighed.

The trio waited silently for several minutes, each assessing the situation and trying to think of a way out. Soon enough, the large automatic door at the front of the room slid open. Light from the outside poured in, revealing a silhouetted figure that none of them could make out by sight. Nonetheless, all three of them recognized Luke's Force signature as he walked into the room. The door slid shut behind him, closing off the hopeful outside light and allowing the three Rebels to see him more easily. Princess Leia seemed surprised to see that his injuries had been healed so quickly and that her brother now wore a fresh set of black robes, complete with a flowing black cloak. He had cleaned up very well since his fight with Revan.

"Hello," he said lightly as he stopped in front of Revan's cage.

"Hello Skywalker," the Dark Lord replied. "Don't care to face me again?"

Luke smirked and nodded at the former head of his order. "I won't make that mistake twice. You are an animal. Too dangerous to be let loose."

"You're a coward, kid. Make any excuse you like. I'm standing in this cage because you're afraid of me."

The younger man's face remained passive as he shook his head. The Sith Initiate put his hands behind his back and walked over to Bastila. She stood to face him, crossing her arms over her chest in order to preserve her modesty as best as possible. Luke's gray eyes fell to her neckline and traveled downwards. A dark smile crossed his lips as he eyed the beautiful Talravin Jedi. Her pale features were not as he imagined them. He had pictured a smooth, unblemished body, free of imperfection and markings. Instead, he found a form marred by scar tissue and injury. Bastila was well-toned and had an elegant form but it had been abused and mistreated by the wars she had fought in. In some sense, he felt disappointed. In another, it made him yearn for her even more.

"We barely got started on Bespin," he said to her in a low voice. "I look forward to continuing with you in private later." His words sent a visible shiver down her spine and the young Sith chuckled at the effect that he had on her. Then he turned away from her and walked over to Leia's cage. He did not inspect her as closely. He had never felt the same interest in her that he had felt for Bastila. Back when they had traveled together, his eyes had always been on the older of the two women. When his gaze shifted to Leia, it was with purpose.

"You treated me aboard the _Falcon,_" he commented casually. "Why?"

"You were suffering," she replied coldly.

"But why you? Why not Bastila or the old man or someone with more experience?"

Leia didn't speak. Luke didn't care. He shrugged and turned his focus back to Revan. "You know how this works," he state, his tone turning to a more formal business-like one. The Dark Lord simply nodded an affirmative. The former farm boy smiled. "Always stoic and unblinking in the face of danger."

"Do you have a question for me?" Revan inquired, feigning boredom.

"Where's Darth Traya?" Luke countered.

A single eyebrow rose over Revan's right eye, betraying his passive face. His master had been aboard the ship. It had been his assumption that she would have been captured along with everyone else. Internally, a feeling of triumph came over him. If the old woman had managed to evade capture, then she probably had set her own rescue plan into motion. It was only a matter of time before either she or HK-47 put a stop to this process. And so, he remained silent.

Luke gave a look of impatience before walking back over to Leia. "Where are the Rebels hiding?"

Unlike Revan, Leia honestly didn't have an answer to her interrogator's question. The _Millennium Falcon _crew had been on the run since Vjun and had lost contact with their people. The only news that they had heard about the Alliance had come from the holonet, which couldn't be considered a reliable source of intelligence given how strictly regulated it was by the Empire. Moreover, the princess did not have the same sort of experience standing up to questioning as Revan. She had held off against the Imperials on the Death Star because of the number of lives at risk but this felt different. There were no answers to give. There were no wild bantha chases to send him on. Her face did not remain blank. It betrayed her fear. Luke smiled.

"Go on. Tell me," he urged her gently.

"Luke, stop this," the Alderaanian pleaded. "We saved you. You can still walk away. Help us fight Malak. Help the Rebellion like you've always wanted."

"Yavin and Hoth have both fallen. Where would the Rebels go next?" he demanded, ignoring her plea.

"I don't know. Hoth was our last stronghold! I don't know where they'd go next!"

"You were one of their leaders. Tell me the truth," he ordered her as he raised a hand towards her. Leia felt the invisible grip of a hand tighten around her throat and squeeze. This caused her to gag and her eyes went wide as she realized what was happening.

"Luke, stop!" Bastila shouted from her cage, though this did nothing.

"Luke-," the princess sputtered as she gasped for air that would not come. "Brother!"

The Sith Initiate slackened his grip ever so slightly, letting his prisoner consume just enough oxygen to speak. He hadn't understood what she had said but it interested him. "What was that?" he asked.

"You don't know what you're doing, kid," Revan told him as he moved as close to the force field of his cage as possible. "You don't want to hurt her."

"Don't I?"

"She's your sister," Bastila cried out. "Your twin sister!"

Luke looked from Bastila to Revan and then to Leia. All three had stone cold serious looks on their faces. This caused a smile to break out across his and then he erupted into laugher. It was a wicked sound, which reverberated in the air and bounced off the rough walls of the room. The sound caused both of the women to blanch and Revan to stare at the young man with utter disbelief.

"It's true," he informed the Sith.

"Sister," Luke repeated as he regained control of himself. "I expected you to lie your way out of this but that one never crossed my mind. You'll have to come up with something better than that. Now one of you, answer my question!"

"We don't know," Bastila insisted. "We've lost contact."

"What about you, Dark Lord," he countered as he turned to Revan. "Where's your master?"

"Defeat me in combat and I'll tell you," was the only response.

"I've already defeated you," Luke scoffed.

This was met with a returning scoff. "Hardly," the former Jedi General returned. "Whoever commands this ship got lucky catching us. No one defeated me. No one can."

"Where's Darth Traya?"

"Dead?" Revan said in return, though his tone sounded more like the statement was a question.

"Tell me!" Luke shouted at his elder.

This only caused Revan to chuckle in response. "Go ahead, kid. Torture me. It won't do a damn bit of difference."

In response to the challenge, the sandy-haired young man walked over to the control console that activated the force cages. He keyed in a quick series of commands, which caused the barrier around Revan to crackle and spark. Suddenly, a jolt of electricity surged from the top of the containment field and struck the former Lord of the Sith. Pain seared through his body, burning across him unrelentingly. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself not to cry out. A soft grunt was the only sound that he made. When the bolts subsided, his muscles relaxed and he brought his head down, looking right back at Luke.

"What else?" he asked.

This frustrated the younger man, who went back to his computer and typed in another command. The electricity came again, with a higher voltage setting, and stormed down upon him. The result was the same. Braced for the pain, he knew how to handle it. He prepared his mind and shut down the feeling in his body, blocking out the sensation. It barely affected him. His will was too great. He would not give this child the satisfaction of having broken the Lord of the Sith. It had the intended effect. Once again, the Sith apprentice turned up the voltage and increased the pain settings. Nonetheless, Revan persevered. He did not submit.

"Stop! Luke, this is wrong and you know it!" Leia screamed at her brother.

"Enough! This is senseless!" Bastila added.

The voltage stopped and Revan fell down to one knee. He stayed silent but looked up defiantly. It took a moment to regain his composure. When he did, he stood and did a trunk twist to pop the bones in his back into place. Then he twisted his neck, cracking the kinks out of that as well.

"Tell me!" Luke screamed across the room.

His frustration had mounted to a critical point. He had been over confident upon walking into the room. His power within the Force and intimidating presence had won him everything he had needed since becoming Malak's servant. Now, for the first time, it wasn't working. He needed a new idea. Obviously, simple pain wouldn't pry the information that he needed from his enemy.

"Are you alright?" Bastila asked Revan.

"Never better," he returned evenly. "What do you want to do tonight?" The question seemed odd and caused all three of the others in the room to give him an inquisitive look. The Lord of Revenge crossed his arms and shrugged to Bastila. "Once we get out of here and get back to the ship? What should we do tonight? I'm thinking pazaak." A smile broke out over Bastila's lips and she looked down at the ground. Even Leia chuckled softly at the joke. Luke would need to be more innovative if he wanted to get anything out of the Sith Lord.

"Fine," the younger man sneered.

He adjusted the console settings once more and then tapped the activation key. Revan braced himself for another surging round of electricity but none came. Instead, he heard the two units on either side of him power up. His head spun towards Bastila just in time to watch a highly concentrated bolt of electricity surge down upon her. Her body tensed and spasmed as she let out an unholy screech of agony. From the other side, Revan could hear Leia's cries as well but his attention was entirely on Bastila. He watched her writhe, powerless to stop it, and for the first time, he felt helpless. In frustration, he smacked his hand against the magnetic field of his cage, which sizzled violently and burned away the top layer of flesh from his knuckles. He hardly noticed.

The torture stopped and Luke smirked at the Sith Lord. "Answer my questions. Where are the Rebels and where is Darth Traya?"

Bastila was about to speak; to voice her defiance when suddenly an explosion went off outside of the room. The sound was dulled by the heavy metal doors and walls between them and it but it had been distinct enough to get their attention. All four of them turned their focus towards the door and were surprised when the azure shape of a lightsaber blade pierced through the center, heating the area around it. The metal soon melted away and broke the locking mechanism, forcing the door to slide open.

Luke reacted quickly by flipping his own weapon into his hand from his belt and igniting it. His cerulean blade sprang forth and he backed away, towards the three force cages. As the door slid open, the crew of the _Millennium Falcon _charged in, led by HK-47. The droid took aim and fired three shots at its master's captor.

"Statement: Die Sith Meatbag! Die like all of the other squishy organics I've killed today!"

Luke deflected the shots on his blade and then dove behind Leia's cage for cover. He tapped the small communication's badge on his chest. "Skywalker to Admiral Karath. Send security down to the interrogation room now. Prisoners have escaped!"

He didn't wait for any acknowledgment. Instead, he killed the line and sized up his opposition. Obi-Wan probably constituted the biggest threat, as he was the only active Jedi. The old man held his lightsaber in a defensive form and held back, providing cover for the two weaker droids. Chewbacca, Han, Lando, and Carth had spread out and taken cover behind various pieces of equipment and machinery so that they could take potshots at him when he became vulnerable. HK-47 stood in the very middle of the room, ready to charge without any concern for damage.

Luke quickly reached towards the command console with his arm and used the Force to throw one of the three primary levers. The cage that he hid behind suddenly deactivated and nothing separated him from his sister. He quickly stood up straight and grabbed her from behind, putting his blade to her neck.

"Stand down or I'll cut her head off!" he warned.

"Stop! Stop!" Carth called out as he stood up straight, ignoring his cover and holding up his twin blaster pistols over his head. "Don't."

"What are you doing?" Han hissed angrily at his friend from his secure location.

Carth didn't answer. He just met Luke's eyes and nodded, dropping his weapons to the ground. "Now the others!" Luke ordered.

"Luke," Obi-Wan said softly as he lowered his saber and took a step forward. "Stop. Leia is your twin sister."

The Sith Initiate chuckled again and tightened his grip on the princess. "I don't have family, Ben," he spat at the old man. "My family was murdered by Stormtroopers when I was with you. They died, screaming, because of your war!"

Obi-Wan closed down his weapon and let his hands from to his sides. "You were separated at birth in order to keep you safe. We knew that the Emperor would hunt you down if he ever knew of your existence. We did what we thought was best!"

"Oh really? Why would the Emperor hunt us? Why would he know us from any other child in the galaxy?"

"Darth Vader," Leia croaked from beneath his grip. "He's our father."

Luke stopped. He looked down at Leia and then back to Obi-Wan. "No!" he shouted. "You said it yourself. Darth Vader murdered my father! Don't lie to me!"

"Just let Leia go and we can talk about this," Carth interjected.

While the three Jedi spoke, Lando looked to Han. The two smugglers met each other's gaze and then the dark skinned one gestured towards the cage control console, which was currently unguarded. Han nodded and his friend moved into a crouched standing position. He slowly started to hobble towards it, hoping that Luke wouldn't notice.

"There's nothing to discuss," Luke jeered at Carth.

"Luke, look into my mind!" Leia cried out. "See what I've seen. You'll learn the truth!"

The Dark Jedi considered it for a moment. He could sense that all of her mental barriers had fallen and that she was sincere in letting her in but did he have the time. If he removed himself from the battlefield, he would be vulnerable to any of their attacks. The idea of being captured again didn't appeal. But what if she was telling the truth? Could there be more to his past than he knew? He needed to know.

He looked down at Leia and reached out towards her mind with his own. Brief flashes and images of her life floated by, though he ignored most of them. Finally, he came to a scene on Bespin, where Master Yoda sat in a bio-bed, telling her something.

"Your father, Darth Vader is," the old Jedi had said.

"And Luke is my-," the princess had been too weak to finish the sentence.

"Your brother," Obi-Wan finished. "Search your feelings. You'll know this to be true."

Luke gasped as he pulled out of the young woman's head. He couldn't be sure that Obi-Wan and Yoda were telling the truth but he did know that Leia sincerely believed what they had told her. She believed that they were related. He let out a feral howl and, using his free hand, grabbed Leia by the face. He closed his fingers over her features and reached back into her still open and vulnerable mind. Sparks of Force energy danced around his gloved palm and Leia felt something inside of her mind snap. Pain, white hot and searing, exploded in her head. A blood curdling scream rang out in the room and everyone did a double take, uncertain of what had happened.

Then Bastila collapsed in her cage. Whatever had happened to Leia had deeply affected her as well. She had fallen to one knee and grabbed the sides of her head, crying out in pain. The fact that his bond mate's mind had been so forcefully harmed sent a ripple in the Force through to Revan and he suddenly understood what had happened. Using the Force, he reached out and extended his mental shielding over Bastila's fragile mind; a feat which could only be accomplished due to their link. The young Jedi Knight felt her ally's protection extend across her and the sense of pain that she felt from Leia numbed somewhat. This didn't help her padawan in the least, however. Leia continued to scream as she felt the inside of her mind being ripped apart from the inside out.

"What's happening?" Carth screamed, immobilized by fear of what Luke would do if he approached.

"The Force bond in her mind!" Revan cried out, most of his focus still on protecting Bastila. "The one between Leia and Bastila! He severed it!"


End file.
