He was alone in the darkness. The blue of his lightsaber cast an eerie light in the cavern, illuminating his face in its ghostly glow. The Jedi teachings had failed him, all the tenets of the Code he had lived his entire life by nothing but the musings of fools. His eyes filled with the fire of a man betrayed as he steeled himself and stepped through the archway of the citadel.

"Why have you come here, Jedi?" a ghostly voice asked.

"I seek power."

A haunting chorus of humorless laughter rang through the cavern as light from thousands of Sith holocrons, housing the spirits of the Sith dead bathed him in a green light.

"As do they all. You seek power to conquer, to build for yourself an empire, to crush all those who would oppose you, to strip the flesh from the bones of all who doubt you…"

"No…" the Knight's voice echoed angrily, "I seek power to protect and preserve. I swore an oath to defend the weak and defenseless, as all Jedi do. The Jedi have betrayed the oath. I seek power to stop the Mandalorian hordes, I seek power to fight the battle the Jedi will not, to bear the burden they refuse!"

His voice was thick with bitterness and anger. The fire in his eyes burned with a white-hot intensity as his fear completely left him.

"There is such hatred in you, Jedi. You speak noble words but do you truly believe them?"

The Knight plunged his lightsaber into a stone altar.

"I have sought you out and I seek to prove my worth."

A single strand of smoke wafted from the crackling blade of his lightsaber, wrapping itself around him.

"You have already proven your worth by coming here. If you were not worthy, you would have already perished," a voice hissed.

"Then grant me what I seek!"

There was silence. And then the voice spoke again.

"You are at a threshold, Jedi. Once you cross it, there is no going back. There is power in this place you cannot fathom, but it pales beside the might of the true Sith. Is this what you want? To sell your soul for this power?"

The words brought him pause and a look of uncertainty flashed across his face. But the Knight clenched his teeth and narrowed his eyes.

"Yes. I want this power, I need it. If it will save the Republic from the Mandalorian horde, I would gladly give anything for it."

"Then close your eyes, young one, and look within."

A flash of light blinded the Knight and the pale green glow of the cavern turned a blood red. The young Jedi was thrown to the ground and he disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

"Arise, Darth Revan, and claim your birthright."

The Knight rose to his feet.

"I feel nothing…"

The red glow slowly faded back to green.

"The power lies within you. It always did. In this place, it has merely been unleashed. The burning rage and fury of your soul is what grants you power, it will be the strength by which you destroy those who would dare defy you. But know this, Jedi. The power you have been given must be fed. There is a hunger within you that will forever lust for the darkness. You can never go back for you have been marked, you carry our taint. You will be forever more a slave to the dark side."

"If that is the price I must pay to save the Republic, then I would gladly bear this burden," the Knight said resolutely, his voice echoing in the cavern. But he was met with silence as the Sith spirits fell back into their slumber, plunging the citadel back into darkness. He was alone once again. Gripping the hilt of his lightsaber in a mailed fist, the Knight pulled it from the altar. The blade had turned a deep crimson, reflecting the fury in his soul.

The young man opened his eyes and slowly rose to a sitting position on his bed. Reaching over to the low nightstand beside him, he felt his fingers run over something cool and hard. Bringing his mask up to his face, he stared into its empty eye sockets. The surface was slightly shiny, fashioned out of a smooth black metal that was cold to the touch. Sinister markings and symbols were etched into it, seeming to glow with a reddish light. The mask exuded pure evil, as dark as the man who wore it. He looked at his reflection and a handsome face in its early twenties stared back. Dark brown eyes, almost black in their depth, pierced through him, seemingly looking into his very soul. Rising to his feet, he slowly pulled his robes over a chiseled, muscular frame. Cortosis armor plates formed an impermeable shell that he strapped on piece-by-piece, starting with the breastplate and finishing with ridged gauntlets, the palm lined with rough krayt dragon's skin that had been dyed black. Taking the mask in both hands, he fitted it over his face before pulling the heavy hood of his robes over his long, dark brown hair, obscuring his face completely. Just the sight of the Dark Lord of the Sith could strike fear and dread into the hearts of both friend and foe. Stepping through the arched doorway of his chambers, he regarded the officer waiting for him with a cold, bone-chilling stare.

"Speak."

The man was in his fifties, a career Republic officer who'd defected to the Sith when he saw the futility of standing against the Dark Lord's might.

"My lord, Bastila's fleet has arrived in this sector, just as you foresaw. They will be upon us in three standard hours at their present speed and heading."

The Dark Lord nodded.

"Inform Sato Kast I wish to speak with him."

Sato Kast was a giant of a man, with arms thicker that most men's thighs and broad shoulders that supported a massive frame. A faint scar ran down the ebony skin of his face, a reminder of a horrific Mandalorian ambush in the jungles of Dxun, one of the most vicious battlefields of the Mandalore Wars. He had an air of menace about him, an intensity with which he carried himself that alone served as an unspoken warning to any who would threaten the life of his Sith overlord.

Bowing low to the ground, he removed his helm, holding it under his arm.

"You summoned me, my Lord Revan?"

An elite soldier of the Republic in the Mandalorian Wars, Sato now served the Dark Lord as the captain of his personal guard. Trained in the ways of Revan's deadly Jedi-hunting Sith assassins, Sato's role was not to protect the Dark Lord against outside threats, but against his own followers. Even as a Jedi, the Lord of the Sith had had no equal. No outside enemy could ever pose a threat to him.

It was his followers, the legions of fallen Jedi who'd sworn allegiance to the dark side that were the enemy Sato prepared for. Consumed by a lust for power, not one of them would hesitate to plunge a knife in Revan's back and steal his throne. For such was the way of the Sith. Betrayal was among the first lessons Revan taught his followers. The irony wasn't lost on Sato. Nor was the fact neither he nor any of the other soldiers in Revan's guard had any ability to feel the Force. They were completely Force-blind. The Dark Lord had said once the most dangerous enemy a Force-wielder could face was one who could not feel the Force at all. The reliance of Jedi and Sith on their ability to act through the Force was their weakness, a weakness that could be exploited by those trained to do so.

The Dark Lord reached into his cloak and produced a small holoprojector, turning it on as he handed it to his bodyguard. It was an image of a beautiful young woman with light brown hair and deep blue eyes.

"A team of Jedi will board my vessel in this battle. The Republic fleet is nothing but bait for a trap."

"My lord?"

"A trap can work both ways, able to ensnare the one who lays it just as well as the one who it is intended for. When the Jedi arrive, you and your men will do as you have been trained. Slaughter them. Slaughter them all. But you are not to harm this one. Let her pass."

He looked at the holoprojector he had placed in Sato's hand with unblinking eyes.

"Who is she?"

The Dark Lord smiled thinly behind his mask.

"An old friend."

Bastila Shan fought to keep the strong emotions she felt within from overwhelming her as the cloaked boarding craft streaked out of the launch bay of the Republic battlecruiser Victory. Darth Revan's fleet was just coming into view as one after another, the massive Sith dreadnoughts appeared out of hyperspace, clouds of escorting snub wing fighters blotting out the stars as they screamed out of hanger bays.

This was not her first battle. Her Battle Meditation, an extremely rare ability showing itself in only a very select few in the Order, had ensured her place at the forefront of the Republic's plans to defeat the Sith. She was strong in the Force, unusually so. Though her Battle Meditation had only manifested itself a few short years ago, she had already mastered it. Her ability to influence the course of entire battles was something not even those on the Jedi Council could explain. By concentrating on a battle and playing it out in her mind, she could sap the will of the enemy to fight while giving strength and courage to her allies. On a larger scale, she could coordinate entire fleets of warships, from the largest battlecruisers to the smallest fighters, enabling them to act in perfect unison. Others in the Jedi Order's past had had this ability as well, but none were able to use it as effectively as she could. And none had been as young as she was. Just a teenager, she had given hope to a Republic that desperately needed it. Already she had seen more of war than many Jedi twice her age.

But she had never seen it from the frontlines. Ever aware of the danger in risking her near the front, she had always been safely tucked away at the rear, either in heavily guarded command centers or using her gift on the bridge of a Republic flagship surrounded by escorts. Battle Meditation had given the Republic an asset by which they could almost ensure victory in any battle. None of the Sith commanders, Jedi or not, could stand against her. None except one. Bastila closed her eyes and remembered.

After having finally stalled the Sith advance, the Republic and the Jedi Order had grown bold. Believing her invincible, they had sent her into battle against the Lord of the Sith himself, hoping for a final crushing victory that would break the back of the Sith. But Revan was no ordinary commander. As a Jedi, Revan had left for the Mandalorian Wars when he was just nineteen. From the moment he first took command, he'd never lost a battle. His tactical and strategic brilliance were unmatched by any commander, Mandalorian or Republic. Since turning on the Republic, even after almost two years of non-stop conflict, his battle record remained unblemished. Before that battle, she remembered feeling apprehension going against Revan, something she'd never felt before. Something was wrong. She should have followed her instincts and brought her concerns to the Jedi Council and Republic Command. The Force was trying to communicate with her but she had ignored it.

Revan's military genius had proven more than even her Battle Meditation could counter. Almost the moment the Republic fleet engaged a surprisingly small Sith force, Sith reinforcements had poured in from both flanks, quickly cutting off their escape. With most of the Republic's most powerful vessels trapped in the middle, the weaker ships on the perimeter had been shot to pieces.

As Revan's armada viciously cut through the Republic fleet, it had only been through the quick action of Admiral Trellin's escorting frigates that she had escaped. She still had nightmares, nightmares of the Republic escort ships sacrificing themselves, putting themselves between Revan's massive flagship, the Titan, and the Republic command ship. They had bought enough time for them to make the jump to hyperspace but at the cost of their lives. Republic Command had never risked her in open battle with the Dark Lord present again.

Circumstances hadn't changed. With Revan's fleet growing by the day, he was sweeping aside the Republic's defenders like chaff at harvest. With each victory, Revan's ranks would swell with Republic defectors, men driven either by greed, frustration, or fear of the Dark Lord's seemingly infinite power. With Revan at the head, the Sith were invincible. The key to their defeat was obvious. Revan had to be neutralized. What had never been clear was how that could be done. Finding Revan wouldn't be difficult. The flagship of the Sith Lord, the Titan, was at the forefront of every major engagement. Revan led the charge from the front, never hiding in the rear as Republic commanders liked to do. Having never suffered so much as a scratch, it was a sound strategy, bringing the massive firepower of the Titan's guns to bear on the enemy early in the fight. But it also meant the Titan was never protected by screens of fighters or smaller vessels.

"His overconfidence is his weakness," Master Vrook had said.

While the Titan's firepower and impenetrable shields meant any attempt by Republic warships to engage her would result in a massacre, the Republic's greatest military minds had concluded Revan's flagship was vulnerable to being boarded. Once on board however, any strike team would be immediately met with hordes of Sith soldiers, better trained and motivated, far superior in the close quarter battle engagements that characterized ship-to-ship warfare. Even if by some miracle a team could reach the Dark Lord himself, Revan was no easy target. One of the greatest Jedi the Order had ever known, Revan had a well-earned reputation before he left as the Jedi's greatest lightsaber duelist. With experience in the Mandalorian Wars and the addition of Sith techniques to his already formidable repertoire, there wasn't a Jedi alive who could take on the Dark Lord and win. There were legends from both the Mandalore Wars and the current Sith conquest of Darth Revan taking on entire battalions of men single-handedly – and butchering them. Any boarding party, Jedi or not, would be facing almost insurmountable odds if they hoped to destroy the Dark Lord. There was no other choice though. The Republic couldn't give up any more ground to the
Sith. Suicide mission or not, something had to be done.

Sato ran his finger along the edge of a wicked looking double-bladed sword that gleamed in the dim light of the Titan's bridge. A thin line of blood trickled from the cut the blade made. Sato rubbed his wounded forefinger together with his thumb, feeling the blood against his skin. It had taken some time for career soldiers such as Sato to learn to give up their blasters for more traditional weapons but Revan's personal guard had become deadly in personal combat. While meeting a Jedi in face-to-face battle seemed suicidal, blasters were worse than useless against lightsabers. And the blades Revan had given his guard were constructed of no ordinary metal. It was fine, cortosis alloy, one of the few known elements in the galaxy able to stop a lightsaber blade. In the hands of a well-trained wielder, the razor-sharp double-blades could be deadly, even to a Jedi.

Pulling the crimson gauntlet back over his hand, Sato thought back to the sequence of events that had led him to where he was now, personal bodyguard to the most feared man in the galaxy. If anyone had asked him ten years ago whether he would have ever dreamt of being in this position, pledging absolute loyalty to a Sith Lord, he would have shot him between the eyes. Although the Sith conquests of Exar Kun had been ended years before his birth, memories of the savagery and brutality of the Sith weren't easily forgotten. The Sith were the greatest evil in the galaxy, it had seemed simple. But he had learned by experience life rarely turned out as he expected.

Revan had taken the title of Dark Lord of the Sith but he was different from the rest. His rebirth from the darkness had been one of betrayal and treachery but he was well known for looking after those who served him well. Cold, precise, and with a calculating mind that seemed to see everything, Revan was the perfect military commander. Never failing to reward devotion and excellence, the Dark Lord was also well known for his intolerance for incompetence and weakness. All men were born equal in Revan's eyes. It was only through merit that some rose above others. It was the supreme irony that the Republic ideals of fairness and equality were epitomized in Revan's Sith fleet while the Republic itself was rotting from the core, plagued by corruption and greed. In Revan's command, even as a Republic military leader, everything had always been clear: the strong flourished, the weak withered and died. Revan had said more than once he had neither the time nor the luxury of worrying about family or political connections.

"When you go to battle, you fight or die. The enemy does not care who you are or who you know; why should I?"

Sato smiled grimly behind his tinted visor at Revan's words. As a Republic fleet commander, Revan had proven his courage and devotion with his own blood. When the Mandalorians invaded, Republic forces had suffered defeat after crushing defeat, dazed and stunned by the ferocity of the Mandalorian Clans. For two years the Mandalorian hordes had had their way, tearing through Republic squadrons sent to stop them. The Jedi, defenders of the Republic for fifteen thousand years, refused to join the fight. Sato still remembered, sitting in an infirmary bed after the ambush that almost killed him, an action that won him the Hero's Cross, watching the Holonet viewer when the news anchor announced the Jedi Council's decision. He'd taken the viewer and thrown it across the room, watching it shatter into a thousand pieces as he cursed the Jedi. While they sat in their meditation chambers, far from the fighting on safe worlds such as Coruscant, soldiers died, ships were turned into blazing funeral pyres and entire fleets were destroyed; all in the defense of a Republic the Jedi had sworn to protect.

But just when he had lost all faith in the Jedi, at the Republic's darkest hour, when the Mandalorians were right on the doorstep of the Core Worlds, a fresh-faced nineteen-year-old named Revan resigned his Jedi commission and brought salvation. From his first victory, he never looked back. It was all over in less than eighteen months. In the skies over Malachor V, the Republic's greatest son, exiled from the Jedi Order for his defiance, wiped out what was left of the Mandalorians. Revan had saved them, saved them all. So when the hero asked his men to follow him on one last crusade to finish off the last of Mandalore's followers, his entire command left with him. Sato remembered watching from his ship as a whole third of the fleet had drifted off into the Unknown Regions after the charismatic hero. He himself would have joined Revan's fleet if it hadn't been for his promotion to commander. But Revan had disappeared with his closest friend and follower Malak, as well as every man and ship accompanying him. Everyone had thought him dead, a casualty of whatever unthinkable horrors lay out in the uncharted regions of space.

Even as the Republic planned a state funeral though, Sato had known Revan couldn't be deceased. He'd been in Revan's first command, a single battalion of burnt out, beaten down Republic recruits. He remembered the fire in the young Jedi's eyes when he told them they wouldn't give up another inch to the enemy. Many commanders gave similar speeches but none of them were ever able to carry through with their prideful statements. None except Revan. Always leading from the front, Revan had led the battalion to countless victories, turning a defeated band of misfits into one of the Republic's crack light infantry units. The promotions had followed swiftly until Revan was the supreme commander of the Republic Fleet, with a third of its forces under his direct command. His and Revan's paths had diverged but Sato had never forgotten the fearless Jedi with the fiery eyes. Even in the 'peace' that followed the Mandalore Wars, Sato thought often of Revan's disappearance, wondering where the hero had wandered.

So when Revan returned at the head of a Sith armada and called for the Republic to listen, Sato had listened. The Republic was fading, the institution that had ruled the galaxy for almost fifteen thousand years was a tired beast waiting to die. With every passing day the Republic would grow weaker. What would become of the galaxy if another threat such as the Mandalorians arose? Change was needed. And Revan would bring that change. Transition would come peacefully if possible, but he was willing to fight for it if necessary.

The Jedi Order, which had been so hesitant to take up arms against the Mandalorians years before, immediately labeled Revan the new enemy and the Republic prepared for another war. Sato had been faced with a choice: Follow the Jedi into battle against the Sith, or stand at the side of the man who'd sacrificed his all to fight at their side. It was an easy decision. Like many others, he'd resigned his commission and taken his place in Darth Revan's armada. When the Dark Lord called Sato before him, asking the veteran to form an elite core, a Praetorian Guard entrusted with his life, Sato hadn't hesitated even a second before accepting. He would protect this man to the end, even if it cost him everything.

Everything was going according to plan. The Republic fleet, with Bastila as bait, had drawn the Sith out. Revan had engaged Republic forces without hesitation.

"Perhaps the Dark Lord isn't as powerful as we were led to believe. Surely a true Sith Lord would have seen this as a trap," one of the other Jedi Knights in the cramped boarding craft said with a smile. Bastila smiled back weakly, but she knew he was wrong. Revan may have been headstrong and prideful, even as a Jedi, but he was no fool. He had never gotten involved in anything without first evaluating every potential outcome and preparing contingencies for all of them. And through the Force, he could see things no one else could. If they made it to the Titan in one piece, it would be because Revan allowed it, not because they had caught him off guard.

"Still your heart, child. To feel fear is natural but you must trust in the Force."

Master Tor, a revered Jedi Weaponsmaster in his sixties put his hand on her shoulder and gave her a reassuring squeeze. Bastila nodded.

"Yes, Master."

But it wasn't fear she felt. She could feel his presence, even at this distance. Every Jedi could feel the darkness in Revan but it was something more for her. The Force bond he'd formed with her remained, a reminder of happier times, when Revan had just been… Revan, her dearest friend and eternal protector. The relationship they'd shared was special, something they both cherished and no one, not even Malak, his best friend, could ever understand.

Separated by only five years, Revan had always seemed so much older, light years ahead in his development. When Bastila had joined the Order as a frightened five year old, Revan was already a very mature ten-year-old apprentice, well on his way to becoming one of the youngest Padawans in the history of the Jedi. When Bastila was still just a struggling apprentice, Revan had become a seventeen-year-old Knight, the youngest Knight the Order had seen in centuries.

Personally, they seemingly couldn't have been more different. Revan's potential as a Jedi had been clear from the moment of his inception. Picking up on every concept, every lesson almost instantaneously, it had taken no time at all for him to be marked as a pupil with a great destiny ahead of him. Bastila had been a late bloomer. Never able to control her emotions very well, her ability in the Force had remained hidden through almost her entire childhood, into her early teens. A few of the Jedi Masters had even questioned if she was even Force-sensitive enough to continue training.

While Revan was outgoing and charismatic, a social magnet drawing others to him, Bastila was shy and reclusive, never able to make friends easily. When her strong affinity to the Force had finally revealed itself, her shyness developed into what many perceived as a prickly arrogance that made her even more unapproachable than before. But when the two had met as children, a chance encounter on Dantooine, the Order's brightest pupil had immediately taken the young girl under his wing. The two had been inseparable as Revan took on the role of an older brother in her life, always watching over her. When other children gave her a hard time, Revan never failed to rush to the defense of his 'little sister'. And when several Jedi Masters suggested Bastila's training as a Jedi be stopped, Revan threatened to leave the Order if they ever even thought of expelling her.

Ironically, the fact Bastila had developed into the Jedi's greatest weapon against the Sith was largely Revan's doing. Exceedingly difficult to train, Bastila had gone through several Masters over the years, frustrating even the most experienced instructors with her inability to maintain control and unleash her vast potential. Although only a Knight, Revan had spent considerable time taking her aside and training her himself when difficulties arose. It had actually been Revan who first hinted at Bastila's Battle Meditation, suggesting her master explore the possibility of his young friend being far more than she appeared to be. She was dear to him, his closest confidant other than Malak, so much so that many of the Masters on the Jedi Council worried it would hinder his development. And Bastila had looked up to Revan, putting him on a pedestal.

When Revan had left for the Mandalorian Wars, it had broken her heart. She coped with his absence by burying herself in her studies, spurring her development at a rate that rivaled his in his younger days. Her ability as a Jedi was probably greater than many of the Order's Knights. But fearing her arrogance and lack of control could lead her down the same path as Revan, the Jedi Council chose not to allow her to take her trials to become a Knight.

Though she resented being held back as a Padawan, Bastila was determined to be a great Jedi, to fulfill the destiny Revan never did. With Revan's fall to the Sith, she was possibly the Republic's only hope at stopping him. What she felt for him now… she was unsure. It was a strange mixture of anger at his having left her, and longing and sorrow, a desire for him to take her in his arms once more and whisper words of comfort to her as she poured her heart out to him. His love for her had been that of an older brother's, only stronger. Her love for him had always been… something different, starting out as a kind of hero-worship, then infatuation, finally becoming… what? It bothered her more than anything else. Even now when Revan, her Revan, had fallen to the dark side, he was able to do things to her no one else could. What she felt for him… anger… love… hatred… sorrow… they were forbidden for a Jedi, feelings that could lead her to follow his path into darkness. She could only hope the Force would give her the strength she needed to face him.

Sato watched emotionlessly as the blast doors onto the bridge exploded in a flash of light, sending bodies flying. His tinted visor automatically darkened to shield his eyes from the stunning effect of the light and audio filters kept his ears from ringing from the blast. He had watched the Jedi strike team progress through the ship, fighting through Sith defenders and he was impressed. For some reason, Revan had ordered most of his forces on the Titan to stand down, almost as if he wanted the Jedi to reach him. Even so, the Titan's standing defenses were formidable. The strike team had been whittled down to a third of its strength. These Jedi were obviously the greatest warriors the Order had to offer. The Sith soldiers and fallen Jedi guarding the bridge were no match, falling to the flashing blade of Jedi lightsabers as the strike team advanced towards Sato. He and his twenty handpicked men were all that stood between the Dark Lord's meditation chambers and a dozen Jedi.

"The girl is not to be harmed," he warned over his comlink for a final time, relaying his Master's strange order, "But slaughter the rest. Give no quarter and expect none – this will be a battle to the death!"

Bastila breathed heavily as she cut down one of the crimson clad bodyguards with her yellow lightsaber. Revan was close, she could sense him. Only a few steps away was the lift leading up to his meditation chambers overlooking the front of the ship. But looking around her, she realized they weren't going to make it. Men and women she'd thought invincible, Jedi with abilities in battle far superior to her own, lay dead, their blood pooling on the durasteel grating of the deck. Revan's personal guard was made up of trained killers, almost invincible to their Force attacks. She couldn't sense the Force from any of them, they seemed completely Force-blind. Then again, she couldn't sense anything from them. It was like they weren't even there.

"You fight well, Jedi. The Dark Lord will surely find a place for you in our ranks."

Bastila deflected a swing from her assailant and attacked, driving him back.

"I'll never fall to the dark side! Your master will be defeated and the light side shall prevail!" she cried. Her opponent pushed her back and laughed.

"Don't be so sure."

Master Tor gave a cry as a shimmering blade slashed through his side. She was alone.

"And now, Jedi, you will die!"

Twirling his double-blade, her opponent knocked her off balance and unleashed a flurry of blows, overwhelming her with the ferocity of his assault. She had never seen such fury before, even in the great weaponsmasters of the Order. Before she knew it, her lightsaber blade had been knocked aside and she found herself on her back, her attacker standing over her. As he swung his blade down towards her face, she closed her eyes, preparing herself to rejoin the Force as her spirit left her body. The blow never reached her. She was started by the crack of her assailant's blade meeting another.

"She is not to be harmed. The Master ordered it himself," Sato's voice boomed. The guard who had attacked her lay on the ground, his headless torso motionless. Her 'savior' retrieved her lightsaber, handing it to her. He was a massive man, with shoulders that seemed broader than she was tall. His blade glistened with blood.

"Darth Revan awaits you in his chambers," he said with a deep, baritone voice that seemed to echo from his barrel-like chest.

"You would allow me to go to your Master armed?" she asked incredulously.

Sato smiled under his helm.

"If my Master wished you dead, he could end your life with nothing but a single thought. Your weapon will prove useless to you. Now go. Lord Revan does not like to be kept waiting."

Bastila stepped out of the lift and spotted him, seated in a throne-like chair in front of the massive windows overlooking the front of the ship. Igniting her lightsaber, she cautiously approached him, reciting the Jedi teachings, trying to calm her heart. She was alone with the Dark Lord, a mere Padawan facing a man who'd killed countless Jedi Masters, a former Jedi who'd boasted an undefeated record in the dueling chambers from the age of fifteen. Revan didn't even turn his chair to face her. As she got closer, she saw he was holding something. Her first thought was a weapon, but when he moved his hand slightly, she saw it was just a glass, filled with a clear liquid.

"You cannot win Revan!" she cried with a defiant confidence she didn't feel. Revan ignored her, simply took a sip from his glass before setting it down and rising to his feet. He walked slowly to the front of the room, facing away from her.

"The fact you are here means I have already won. The Council would not risk you unless they had no other choice."

"If you strike me down, others will take my place!"

He set his glass down and paced across the deck. Clasping his hands behind his back, the Dark Lord looked down at the battle being fought below.

"Beautiful, is it not?"

"Beautiful? How far did you have to fall to think of such carnage as beauty?"

Revan shook his head.

"No, not the battle. The night sky. Here, almost at the heart of the galaxy, one can see everything. You see that star? The bright blue one, high above us? That would be Japreal, lying on what used to be one of the Republic's primary hyperspace routes. The primary planet in the system is Onderon. A beautiful world, but with a tragic history. That was my first battlefield."

Flipping open a panel along the bulkhead, he removed a bottle of dark, maroon liquid. Bastila looked away, not wanting to see his face twisted by the corrupting evil of the dark side. She wanted to remember Revan as the kind, young man who'd loved her, her guardian and protector, not the Sith Lord who sought to destroy the Republic and the Jedi Order.

"I'm sorry, I seem to have forgotten my manners. Would you like a drink? Some wine, perhaps? It really is very fine, aged to perfection. I captured it from the flagship of Admiral Massen last week. This bottle is from one of the finest vineyards on Alderaan. It seems even in war Republic officers cannot deny themselves a few of the comforts of home. Understandable, considering the plight they find themselves in, no?"

He poured himself a glass and swirled it around for a moment, savoring the aroma before taking a sip.

"Alderaan wine… one of the more decadent pleasures of life. Do you remember the time you first tried it? I was only going to offer you a taste but when I turned around, you'd consumed the entire bottle. You became so sick I thought you would die. I was almost ready to draw my lightsaber and fall upon it, my guilt was so great."

Bastila bit her lip, trying to maintain her focus. She remembered. She had only been eleven, Revan was sixteen. He and Malak used to sneak off to town to a local cantina where a sympathetic bartender would give them whatever they wanted for a not unreasonable surcharge. Malak had always gone for the heavier drinks, Tarisian ale, Corellian whiskey, hard liquors that could knock out a bantha. But Revan had had more refined tastes, opting for finer beverages usually found at the tables of royalty and aristocrats. Always wanting to tag along, Bastila had begged Revan to take her with them, just once, but always playing the role of protective older brother, he'd always refused. Finally, one day he'd sneaked a bottle of Alderaan wine into the Academy to give her a taste. She'd just finished a session in the dueling chambers and her throat was parched. Revan had poured her a very small amount, warning her of the effects alcohol could have on her tiny body. He'd been distracted, leaving her alone in the room with the entire bottle. When he came back, he'd found her lying on the floor, mumbling incoherently before passing out, having completely drained the bottle. All she'd known was that she was thirsty and the wine tasted good. Revan had immediately rushed her to the infirmary and spent every second of the next three days at her side, unable to forgive himself for letting his 'little sister' come to harm.

"Revan, this has to end. I was sent here to capture you, but I will kill you if I must."

Revan didn't speak, just stared out at the night sky.

"I can feel your fear. Do I frighten you, Bastila? Facing the Lord of the Sith alone, by yourself?"

"Revan…"

She held her lightsaber at the ready, watching his every move, waiting for him to draw his weapon. A formation of Sith fighters screamed past, illuminating the dimly lit room in a ghostly white light. He was dressed only in his black robes, a long cape draped over his shoulders. Since leaving for the Mandalorian Wars, it was said Revan never removed his armor or his mask. He had been the Republic's greatest hero and nobody had ever even seen his face. It was always hidden behind the omnipresent mask, a sinister, demonic-looking, metal armor piece that he wore under a black hood. But the mask was sitting on the arm of his chair, the light glinting off its gleaming surface. His face was hidden beneath the black hood of his cloak, the shadows obscuring his features.

"I have killed so many Jedi I lost count long ago. I felt nothing from them. Strange, is it not? It seems only yesterday I was one of them, striving to attain perfection in the ideals of the Jedi Order. And yet I always knew I was different. I had a destiny to fulfill unlike that of any other's. I knew I would have to destroy the Jedi Order, that which represented everything I'd ever known. I reconciled myself to that ages ago. But you… I never wanted this day to arrive. Yet I foresaw it, I knew you'd come for me…"

"You know I could never leave you, Revan. Not when I can still save you."

He laughed but there was no humor in his tone.

"Save me? From what?"

Bastila looked on him sadly.

"From yourself. I know there is still good in you, Revan. The man I knew isn't dead… he can't be."

"Of course not. He merely became something more and unleashed everything he was ever meant to be."

Reaching under his hood, he slowly drew it back and she gasped. All the Sith she'd ever seen were ghostly pale, like walking corpses. Malak, now Revan's greatest follower, was a reminder of the corruption of the dark side every time his image appeared on the holonet. Once a handsome young man, his fall to the dark side had twisted his body into a mockery of what he'd once been. His eyes had turned a sickly yellow, his once smiling face carrying a vicious scowl.

But Revan… Revan hadn't changed at all. His long, dark brown hair was pulled back from his tanned, chiseled features, tied back in a ponytail. Finely trimmed stubble surrounded a mouth that curled up at the edges in a slight smile. As it had always been though, it was his dark brown eyes… eyes that held such depth of passion she felt she could drown in them. But there was something slightly different about them. It was like a flickering light, a fire she had never seen before. It hypnotized her, drawing her in. Just as when he left, his was the most handsome face she'd ever seen. He looked like a prince, not the Dark Lord of the Sith.

"You were expecting something else."

She had expected to see a seething hatred in him, a burning rage in his eyes that all Sith had. There was fire in those eyes, that of anger but it was controlled. She could sense hatred in him but it wasn't directed at her. The mixture of emotions she was feeling from him was confusing, conflicted. The strongest by far though, was pain, a pain more horrible than any she'd ever felt.

"The power I wield is far greater than that of any Jedi. But it is not a power meant to be wielded by mortal men. The power of the dark side twists and corrupts the bodies of its followers. By giving themselves over to it, throwing themselves before its altar in as they lust after its power, their physical beings are destroyed, reflecting the decay within their souls."

Bastila couldn't tear her eyes from his face. His appearance hadn't changed but the glowing aura he'd once had was gone, replaced by… something else.

"But how did you… why do you look…"

"Normal? No, I've been changed. You feel it, don't you? There is a darkness in me, a taint that resides in my soul. My body remains unaffected because I am not like the others. I have the strength they do not. The power of the dark side destroys those unworthy to bear it."

His voice sounded calm, but she could sense something in him as he spoke. It wasn't fear, but a fatalistic acceptance of what he'd become.

"I can help you, Revan. I can still save you."

Revan looked at her and smiled. It was the smile of a dying man.

"You can't save me from this path I have chosen. You can't save someone who doesn't want to be saved."

"Revan?"

"There are things to be learned that cannot be taught in the halls of a Jedi Academy. Things one can only learn in the fires of war. I fought in every battle of the Mandalorian Wars from the moment I left the Order. And I learned."

He glanced at her for a moment and paused.

"I learned the meaning of strength. And I came to despise weakness. It is only through conflict that one can become strong. Those too weak to face conflict perish. That is the way of things."

His voice frightened her. He spoke the words with no emotion, completely detached.

"But you took an oath, Revan – as Jedi we all did: To protect the weak and defenseless. You always had… issues with the Jedi but you believed in that more strongly than anything. It was why you went to fight the Mandalorians!"

Revan shook his head.

"You misunderstand the meaning of true strength and weakness. There is a difference between the weakness of one unable to defend him or herself, and one unwilling to. To be truly strong is not to have the most physical strength, or the most men, or even the most weapons. True strength is the will to face conflict when it is forced upon us and challenge it. Whether we are strong enough to prevail is unimportant. For it is the act of resistance itself that strengthens us, not victory."

He laughed bitterly.

"And that is why the Jedi Order and your precious Republic will fall to me. Such strength, such power is available to the Jedi. The Force is an ally without equal, granting unimaginable freedom to those who would seize it. All my life I've been told I have a great destiny ahead of me. It got to the point where I began to take it for granted."

Revan took another sip from his glass.

"It is ironic it was the Jedi who first uttered that word to me. Destiny. In itself the word holds such promise, such power. But they held me back. The Jedi Council feared me. They feared what I knew, what I learned, what I could do with the Force. I could have done so much. I could have saved the galaxy with all the strength I held. They deliberated behind closed doors as the Outer Rim burned, as millions died… innocents the Jedi swore to protect."

The bitterness and pain she felt from him was heavy in the air, hanging thick like a dense fog. She could feel its terrible weight bearing heavily on her shoulders, almost choking her. Seeing such agony within him…

"The Jedi Council chose not to act because they saw something else, Revan, a threat lying beyond the Outer Rim out…" she tried to explain weakly but he cut her off with a sweep of his hand.

"They saw a threat. And they did nothing about it. I sensed it years ago and I sought it out. I was blind at the time. I sought it out thinking only of the power I would find – power to stop the Mandalorians, to make everything right. Even before the Mandalore Wars the Republic was a tired beast, waiting to die. Rotten to the core and plagued by corruption. I would have fixed it all, wiped out everything and started anew. I would have overseen a new golden age of the Republic, a new Republic, one far better than the old. But I never realized the price that I would have to pay."

"You sacrificed Malak and the others…" Bastila said softly.

Revan smiled thinly and cracked the glass he was holding in his hand, the crimson liquid mixing with the blood dripping from the cuts the shattered vessel made.

"No. They gave of themselves willingly. Malak chose his path, to follow me into the depths of the dark side. The others… I helped them in their descent but no one can force you to make the final decision to abandon the light. It is a conscious decision one must make for him or herself. I merely showed them the path. If they were too weak or foolish to resist temptation, they deserved their fate."

His voice was so cold, his words spoken with neither regret nor remorse. Malak had been like a brother to Revan… and Revan had spoken of him like he was nothing. She tried to tell herself it wasn't Revan speaking, it was the darkness that gripped him but in her heart Bastila wasn't sure. He looked directly at her and his voice softened.

"No… the price I paid was something far more… someone who meant so much more to me than I ever believed. I betrayed her… abandoned her to live out my ideals in war…"

"Revan…"

Tears began to form in Bastila's eyes.

"And I was deceived. Instead of salvation for the Republic I found something else… I tasted power and I knew I could never let it go. But my hunger has consumed me and I have become enslaved… I never told you, did I? I could always read you, see into your soul…" he smiled slightly, the same smile he used to share only with her in their times alone, "You could never hide much from me… too open with your emotions, your feelings always held too close to the surface. The Jedi believed it to be a weakness, as did I for a time."

He closed his eyes and looked down, seemingly afraid to meet her gaze.

"But in leaving you… I realized that was what I cherished most about you. Since the day we first met I've felt this urge, this need to protect you, to watch over you… you were dear to me and it killed me to see you struggle, to see your tears. You've always seemed so vulnerable to me and that may have been true but… I was blind. You have a strength within you, a determination to carry on that I never saw. You never needed me, but you let me into your heart and let yourself be vulnerable… for me. Your capacity to love has always been something I adored and… you loved me. I was a fool to have never told you this before but… I loved… love you too. More than anything else."

Revan bit his lip.

"But I threw it all away, I took what you had given me and shattered it, sacrificing you for what I believed in. It shouldn't have been like this… it… I could have had everything I ever wanted with you…"

The fire in his eyes had disappeared, burnt out and they glistened now. Revan, the one always known for his control and emotionless maturity… Revan was crying. She wanted to run to him and throw herself into his embrace, bury her head into his shoulder and weep. But the mission… she had been given a mission by the Jedi Council… she couldn't serve two masters…

"You have to come with me, Revan. This war can only end with your surrender, either to the Jedi or… to death."

She had to fight to force the words out, unable to look into his face as she half whispered the last word. She heard his lightsaber hissing to life, a long, crimson blade, a deep blood red she had never seen in a lightsaber before. Bastila lowered herself into a defensive stance, preparing for his assault. The battle would be a short one, she was sure of it. She was no match for him.

Revan didn't move. He just stood before her, lightsaber in hand, pointed at the deck unthreateningly.

"I won't give myself up to the Jedi Council. They are fools, too blind and arrogant to see beyond their vaunted code and archaic teachings. What do you think they would do with me if I came with you?"

Bastila spoke desperately, almost pleadingly.

"Please, Revan, they can help you!"

Revan's tear-filled eyes became angry.

"Of course they will 'help' me. After all, the Jedi do not believe in executing their prisoners, do they? No, they would strip me of the Force and exile me instead… make an example of me as to the fate of those who would dare defy the Council. I love you more than life itself but I can't do this, even for you."

He flourished his blade, sweeping it around his body in an arc of red.

"Do you see this blade? It is the same one I carried into the Mandalorian Wars, the same lightsaber built by my hands when I became a Knight. Do you remember what color it was, back then?"

She didn't even need to think before answering.

"Blue."

Revan nodded.

"Yes, blue. The blue of a Guardian. But I did not choose that color because of tradition. Mine was lighter, more alive. I chose it because it reminded me of you. The same beautiful blue I saw in your eyes. That was why I chose it. The crystal is bonded to me, it reflects my state of being. When I changed, when I gave myself to the way of power, it changed with me. I have fallen so far the crystal itself was twisted into a blood red. For one who has fallen as far as I…there can be only one sentence. Death."

He twirled the lightsaber around so the blade was pointed at himself and the hilt extended out to her.

"If you truly believe it is what you must do, take my blade and strike me down with it. Although I am unworthy of such a death, I wish it to be you who deals the killing blow."

His tears had dried but hers were flowing in torrents down her face.

"I… I can't, Revan… please…"

Revan bowed his head, allowing his hair to fall into his face.

"Then I will have to fight on. But know this: I no longer determine my path. I serve a master now… a master whose power is so great it might as well be limitless. He wishes me to conquer the Republic and destroy the Jedi. I dare not disobey. But one day… one day I promise you this… I will find him and I will destroy him, just as he has destroyed me."

The blade of his lightsaber disappeared as he replaced it on his belt.

"What about me? What about… us? I can't betray the Jedi for you, Revan."

"I would never ask that of you. Malak fell to the dark side. I would die before allowing that fate to befall you..."

He looked at her tenderly for a moment before pressing a button on the arm of his throne. A small panel slid open. He removed a datapad and handed it to her.

"There will be much fighting before this is over. I will crush the Republic and go to face my master. Either I will destroy him or he will destroy me. There is no other way. I want you to run, to hide. There are places in the galaxy where the Force is weak. My master has no interest in these places. If you go there, he will not be able to find you. The Force is neutral and seeks balance above all else. Even if I fail and perish before my master, there will be a time when the light side of the Force shall prevail once more."

He took a deep breath.

"I have a ship and escorts waiting for you. My men have orders to take you wherever you wish. May the Force watch over you because I cannot. I am sure there are many questions you wish to ask that must remain unanswered but all you must know is this: I love you, Bastila Shan, and I wish I hadn't been such a fool."

A tremor in the Force caught Revan's attention. He turned his head to see a bright flash of light envelop the side of Malak's flagship, the Leviathan.

Who could he be firing at? The Republic fleet is in the other direction…

Grabbing Bastila, he threw her to the deck, casting his body over hers as a turbolaser bolt ripped through the Titan's unshielded hull. Alarm klaxons blared and he felt searing white shrapnel slice into his back. Taking her in his arms, he dragged himself to his feet and pulled her into the lift, barely managing to close the blast doors as the bridge depressurized. Gently laying her on her back, he collapsed. A warm liquid trickled down the side of his face, dripping in a pool beside his head. It was blood. Summoning all his remaining strength, Revan put his hand to the side of her face and tried to speak.

"Don't cry for me, sweetheart. I'm not worth your tears," he whispered as the world around him faded into darkness…