Months later and Revan's words had unfortunately proved prophetic. Malak strode down the corridor, his boots ringing out on the metal floor. He was not looking forward to telling Revan the latest news. Another eight ships destroyed, and that just in a minor skirmish involving the Jedi girl. Yes, they had more ships but even so… The speed of their conquests had gone down considerably. And over the months Revan's mood had simply become blacker and blacker. Her mood swings had become more extreme and she appeared more dead than alive. Worse, the conflicts between Malak and his master had escalated. They had drawn sabres on each other three days ago. It hadn't come to blows but the next time it might.

Malak knocked on the door to her apartments. The doors slid open after a moment. She looked at him blankly and then turned back into her rooms. He followed her anxiously.

" She's done it again, hasn't she? " she asked dully.

" Eight ships down, " Malak confirmed.

Revan threw herself down onto a chair and drummed her fingers on the armrest.

" Right, " she said after a long silence. " I'm in the mood to get my hands dirty. Get everyone to the war room. Quickly. "

The Sith officers were quiet and tense. Malak's presence precluded any discussion there might have been. He may not have been the war leader Revan was, but he was well known for his brutality. He sat at the front, watching them, wondering which of them would be the next to bear the brunt of Revan's frustration.

The door slid open and Revan came in, her black robes sweeping about her.

" Bastila is becoming a nuisance. And I am not happy at the rate at which this invasion is going. So, we speed up. She can't be everywhere at once. We need to be coming in on at least six more invasion corridors. "

" The fleet will be spread much thinner of course but even if the Star Forge only continues to operate at its current rate, we should have enough, " Saul Karath commented.

" Yes, so we should be able to crush the Republic fleet in the areas that she's not in. As for her, we have to stop letting her choose the battles. Battle Meditation requires time and concentration. We need to force a fight on her, strike out quickly. "

" I think, Lord Revan, we would have a better chance of success if we send the entire fleet after her, " Malak stated. " Overwhelm her with sheer number. "

Revan turned to him and put her hands on her hips irately.

" What a good idea Lord Malak! Lets ambush her with fifty-bloody-thousand ships! She'd never notice those creeping up on her! And lets put all our fleet in the one place so she doesn't have to travel around so much to smash them up! I wish I'd thought of that! "

Seething anger filled the room. The Sith officers stayed silent, their eyes turned down to the floor. Malak looked at Revan as she faced him. She was hidden behind the mask. Even her eyes were disguised. He could make none of her out. Faceless and unknown to him now. He longed to take his lightsabre and make her sorry. Force her to back down before him. How he dreamed of making her beg for his forgiveness for the countless insults and provocations. But he didn't dare. Not now. Not like this.

" Forgive me Lord Revan. You are right of course. "

She nodded curtly and turned back to the soldiers.

" And another thing, I'm sick of being away from the frontlines. We move forward tomorrow. I shall take the Independent and Lord Malak will join Admiral Karath on the Leviathan. I want us to be at the very front. Now go, you have your orders. "

The officers filed out quickly and Malak rose to follow.

" Wait Malak, " Revan snapped.

He stopped and steeled himself for the onslaught. After the last of the Sith had left, Revan removed her mask and looked steadily into Malak's eyes. He was a good foot taller than her and yet somehow she managed to negate the effect of the height difference simply in the intensity of her gaze.

" If anyone else had questioned my orders they would be lying dead at my feet by now. Don't do it again. "

She motioned for him to leave and turned away, not looking at him again as he left.

Her admission astonished Malak. He knew the bonds of friendship were strong between them. It surprised him though that she would allow that to interfere with her thinking at a crucial time like this. He was grateful that it had of course, but it made him think. It was ridiculous to imagine that she didn't realise the threat he posed to her continued reign. But she hadn't acted yet. If she wished to hold onto power, she should have the strength to do whatever required. And that obviously didn't include striking him down yet. Doubtless she would defend herself to the death if he made the first move. Then it struck him.

She saw it all as things yet to come. She was happy with the eventual confrontation but she truly didn't think it would come to that. All the times she had told him how it worked between Sith Master and Apprentice, she hadn't thought of it in terms of herself and Malak. Revan didn't actually believe he would act against her and she would find excuses not to be the first to strike.

How flattering, Malak mused. To know she cared, cared enough to risk the mantle of Dark Lord. Yet despite the warmth that thought gave him, he couldn't help but be disturbed by her weakness. If she was the true Master of the Sith, he should not be able to influence her in this way. She should have the will to strike down anyone and everyone in her path, whether it was fellow student, comrade-in-arms or best friend.

However, his thoughts swayed again. Had he actually considered the moment when he would face her? Striking out hard enough to kill? Considered her blood on his hands? What if she begged? Kneeling tearful before him, as he had imagined so many times before. An image of her from the Mandalorian Wars sprang unbidden into his head. She had returned from the fray, battered and bleeding. She had been badly hurt, had even briefly cried from the pain. He had been so angry. He had sat by her as she slept and struggled to quell the anger that he'd been taught to avoid. There is no emotion, he'd told himself over and over again. A lie.

Could he inflict such pain on her? He wasn't sure he could. He was as weak as she was. He hated the weakness inside him. Iron resolve gripped him suddenly. If he couldn't strike her down, he would have to learn.

Over the next weeks, Malak nurtured the latent hatred he felt towards her. As they battled at the frontlines, he watched her command and he hated her. Every time she spoke to him, his hatred grew. She was too engrossed in the war to notice his increasing hostility. Another weakness. Revan was too immersed in battling the Republic to notice the threat that was growing at her side. She had taken an active role in the fighting.

" I think it's time to play rough, " she'd said. And so she'd gone with her strike teams. She'd boarded Republic ships and left them without a single survivor on board. And when she wasn't actually at that moment killing, she was looking for the next target.

He waited for her to leave the fighter ship. The Sith troops had just returned victorious from their latest attack. The door swung open and he reached forward to offer her his help as she stepped down. She didn't even seem to notice his hand as she disembarked gracefully. Malak noted that the hem of her robe was drenched with blood. It left a small trail on the floor as it swept along. However, Revan herself appeared unhurt. 

She held out a lightsabre to him.

" Here, I brought you this, " she said. " You can see if the crystals are any good. "

" Thank you Revan, " Malak replied as he took the blood stained weapon.

" It can't have been that good, " she commented as she brushed past him.

" How come? " he asked as he turned to follow her.

She spun round and gestured flamboyantly with her hands.

" I'm here aren't I? And its owner was rather reluctant to give it to me! "

Revan turned back and carried on her way.

" Quite surprising really. I did explain that it was going to be a gift for my apprentice. I'd thought he'd have been proud, and seeing as it was obvious I was going to kill them anyway I'm surprised he put up such a fight. Silly Jedi fool. "

Malak looked at the Sith troops disembarking from the small fighter ships. They too were covered in blood, the shining silver plates smeared red.

" Why is there so much blood Revan? " he asked after a moment.

" Oh, I tried something new, " she explained ambiguously. " I didn't expect there to be so much blood. And I don't know how I'm going to get it out of this robe. It really is too bad. "

She caught hold of the material and shook it slightly, sending droplets of blood splattering across the floor.

" Messy messy, " she complained. " Get someone to clear this up. "

She continued down the corridor, apparently not knowing or caring if Malak followed. He caught up with her.

" So it went well then? " he asked.

" Of course it did. So well in fact I'm just spoiling for another fight. "

She paused and glanced back at him.

" You should try it. Bring some of the fun back into this war. "

" Thank you but no. "

" Saving your energy for the big fight? "

He was shaken. Did she know what he was planning? It was all so nebulous at the moment. She couldn't possibly know, he barely knew himself. He tried to stop his hand scrabbling for his lightsabre.

" With Bastila? " she prompted.

" Yes, " he answered quickly. " But perhaps I should come with you sometime. "

" Next target, I'll come get you and we'll go out on a raid together, " Revan promised as she swept into her room.

Out of her sight, Malak leant against the wall and tried to soothe his nerves. Too close. Far, far too close.

His dreams that night were much as they had been for the past few months. Distorted memories of his time with her and dizzy nightmares of what might be coming.

He was back at the Temple Summit, the sun glaring down on him. There was a dull stillness in the air. He could hear the distant croaking of gizka, the slapping of the waves at the shore, but little else. His robes were uncomfortable and scratchy. The metal attached his face was unbearably heavy. Too heavy too carry, stopping him from breathing.

But that was wrong. He'd been whole when he'd first come to the Temple with her.

Her. There she was. She was stood working at the computer, dressed in simple Jedi robes. Her hair was loose, falling around her face and she brushed it back impatiently. Her fingers paused as they rushed over the equipment. She straightened up and turned to look at him. She smiled.

Damn her and her smiles! Damn her!

Anger and hatred boiled up in him. He ignited his lightsabre and charged at her. She barely had chance to draw her own sabre before he was on her. Malak thundered blows down on her, striking again and again. She blocked most of them but the last two slipped past her guard. She cried out in pain as the blade connected with her shoulder. Clutching her wounded shoulder, Revan staggered back. Her eyes were large and luminous, pleading with him.

Damn her eyes!

Malak advanced and lifted his sabre again. She flattened against the crumbling, stone wall and raised her lightsabre in a feeble attempt to block his blows. With one hand, Malak grabbed her wrist and wrenched the lightsabre from her grasp. It skittered across the floor, the flame dying instantly. His other hand drove his own sabre towards her chest. The smell of burning flesh instantly greeted his nose. She moaned and sank down. Her only defence now was one trembling arm. Her breath was coming fast and she had averted her face.

The anger had built into an absolute rage. It burnt in him as if it was his own chest he had plunged his lightsabre into. He took hold of at her, dragging her to her knees and digging his hand into her soft hair, twisting her face to look up at him.

Tears ran freely down her cheeks. He could feel her trembling. He stared down at her then took his lightsabre and raised it high above his head.

" This is your last chance, " he ground out.

He realised he was trembling too, shaking with the fury that coursed through him. She whimpered and weakly tried to break free.

" I mean it! " he snarled, shaking her roughly. " This is your last chance Revan! "

She was suddenly quiet and still. He leant closer to her as she licked her lips and opened her mouth to speak.

"No. "

The white hot rage exploded and he flung her down, away from him. She sprawled on the ground for a second before she feebly turned onto her back. Seeing him start to walk deliberately towards her, she desperately tried to drag herself away.

Malak swiftly crossed the distance between them and swung his lightsabre down with all the strength he possessed. She screamed in agony and he swung again. As he rained down the blows, he felt the throb of her energy growing ever weaker, until it was little more than an ember. He heard the sudden silence in his mind. He felt the world fade away into darkness around him.

The sudden resurgence of her energy was like a physical blow. Malak jolted awake, sitting up quickly.

" Shh, shh! It's only me. "

Her voice. Through the darkness, he could make her out leaning over him. Her hand was on his shoulder and he realised that she'd shaken him awake.

" Revan… what are you….? " he stuttered.

" I've found the next target, " she whispered gleefully. " Get dressed and meet me in the hangar. "

With that she slipped out of the room. He sat for a moment, trying to regain equilibrium. He'd known it had been a dream. But he'd allowed it to ensnare him. The sheer… sensation of it had been exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. Of course she wouldn't be that easy to beat. Revan was a fighter to the core. Physical strength had nothing to do with it. Nobody could find a weak spot like Revan. If it came to a clash of lightsabres Malak didn't favour his chances. Not yet anyway.