Welcome to Chapter 3 which is technically chapter 4! I wish it would give me an option to make the Crawl "Chapter 0" or something. Having the numbers be off like this is going to drive me insane.

Let's skip straight to the reviews, shall we? Cultosaurus mentions one of the key problems of having a main character like Mira- that she is one of a thousand possible characters. Even stripping away the main plot, there were lots of personality and morality decisions in KotOR II, and obviously I can only represent one set of them with my main character. I'm not a guy who's amazing at writing from other people's perspectives for long periods of time- I have to see some part of myself in the character, or I just struggle, really. So to me, it was important to do two things with this character. First, to make her neither solid white nor solid black. The world doesn't work that way. It's never that clear cut, and frankly, it always seemed a slightly absurd part of the Star Wars universe that there wasn't ever any (to my knowledge) inbetween for the Sith and Jedi. People don't act like that. You don't get put in situations that are like "rescue a box of kittens or burn down an orphanage." The extreme polarity of the games irritated me vastly.

The other important thing was to make her... stubborn, I guess. To me, it seems like the canon Exile- the one who was totally light side and apologized for the Mandalorian Wars and all that- was lying to herself. Sure, she did some bad things in the Mandalorian Wars. But the basic decision to go out and stop genocide? There is no universe in which that was the wrong call. Maybe they went about it the wrong way, but standing up against the Mandalorians was the right thing to do. Period. And for the Exile to apologize for that... well, she had to just be saying what the Council wanted to hear, frankly. They were arrogant jackasses anyway. I could never understand that call. I didn't see why she couldn't be like, "Maybe I did some bad things but the fundemental decision was right." So I needed to have my Exile be like that, or the core of what she was just wouldn't click with me. I guess there's a reason I'm not out saving the galaxy, huh?

Both Cultosaurus and passisginger asked about Malak and Revan's relationship in this reality. Well, like Mira, I rather had to make my own Revan here... but Malak has been rather humbled from his previous self. It's not that he has no ambition, exactly. It's more that he's been so thoroughly bested and intimidated by a smarter, more villainous Revan that he doesn't dare try anything. As you'll learn in this chapter... the difference in this universe isn't that Malak didn't try to seize the throne. It's that Revan saw that coming.

Frankly, I didn't like Malak as a villain. He wasn't terrible... but he was just too stupid. Blowing up an entire planet to try to kill one Jedi- and failing. That's pretty sad. His apprentice was a joke, and he himself was just a heavy-handed thug. Thankfully, though he is around here, he is one of many Sith Lords- Revan is here, Nihilus and Sion are around somewhere, Traya is a possibility of course, and there might even be another Sith Lord about to rise to power...

Enjoy the chapter, folks. Hope to have more for ya soon, I'm really startin' ta enjoy this story.

"I don't understand," declared Carth, shaking his head. "You're Jedi, and there's another Jedi in trouble. Why are you so unwilling to help her?" They were sitting at a small table in the apartment they'd managed to commandeer, while the Exile, Mira, slept soundly in a bed across the room. Carth had run out of weapons to clean and maintain, so he had taken to arguing with Kreia. It said a lot for how little he had learned about the old woman that he would willingly start an argument with her.

"Oh, is that how it is?" asked Kreia, amused. "Normal people are content to walk right past other people in trouble, but since we can feel the Force, suddenly we must be suicidally outgoing. We are not of the Jedi Order, in case I hadn't made that clear. We have no obligation to attack a Sith base, and we are not so foolish as to think that we would succeed in doing so, either. And before you announce any idiotic notions of going 'with or without us,' I shall make it clear- you are not going anywhere. You are staying right here."

"Oh really? And how is it that you so much about what I'm going to do?" demanded the pilot angrily.

The old woman gave him a smug smile. "I should think even one of your mental facilities could figure it out, Carth. I have seen your mind. I have seen what drives you. And I know that the vengeance you seek lies at the end of the road that we follow. Alone, you will never achieve it."

There was a moment's silence, and then Carth said, quietly, "You're bluffing."

"Oh, am I? Because it's not as though the ability to read and affect thoughts is a well-known Jedi attribute, is it? I suppose all these memories about the beautiful days on Telos are just made up, then. About the two that you left behind there." Carth looked away, his expression dark, and Kreia smiled. "So I think, for the moment, you will be staying with us."

"...It looks like I will," admitted the soldier unhappily.

"There is no need to be so bitter about it, Carth. True, you may not much like me-" began Kreia.

Understatement of the century, thought Carth.

"-But you will find Mira an agreeable enough companion, I suspect... and there will be other opportunities as well. It will be an eventful journey, I suspect. And perhaps we will end up rescuing this Jedi you are so taken with, if she is our only way off this planet."

"'Taken with?' It is my job to get her out, it isn't some personal infatuation or-" began Carth hotly, and then glanced up to see Mira standing there with an eyebrow quirked.

"...Not that it's a big deal, but if you could lower your voice a little, that would be appreciated," said Mira, rubbing her hair.

Carth blinked. "I, uh... you were very quiet, I didn't realize you were awake."

Mira shrugged. "Loud movement rarely pays off." She sat down at the table as well, and yawned. "What's the plan?"

"That rather depends on what we want to achieve," noted Kreia calmly, a smile playing across her face. "Are we to leave the planet as swiftly as possible, or did you want to achieve something here?"

The Exile frowned. "I think we need to clear some things up before we make any calls like that. I very much appreciate the assistance you two have given me... but I find myself a little puzzled as to why you still are. I mean, we all needed to get out of that hospital alive, but now that we're out, what is it that you want to achieve?"

Carth shook his head. "I... I don't know anymore. I want to rescue Bastila. That's my mission. But... I don't really think that's something we could pull off ourselves. Heh, we'd have trouble rescuing her from street gangs at this point, let alone Taris's main Sith base. Until I figure things out... well, I'm going to need to get off Taris too, and no one else will help a Republic soldier, so I'm with you."

Mira nodded, and her gaze slid toward Kreia. The old woman stared back at her for a few moments before she finally spoke. "We share common enemies... fearsome foes indeed. You do not have the strength to fight off those that pursue you alone, and neither do I. Apart, we will fall. Together, we stand a chance, however slim."

The Exile paused, considering this. "Malak is after you, Kreia?"

Kreia gave her a disappointed look. "We have far more dangerous enemies than Malak, Mira. Revan's attack dog is tenacious, but lacks in any real intelligence. Alas, he is but one of many. You are the last of the Jedi in a time of great Sith power, and as much as they loathe each other, the Sith Lords will unite against you." She shook her head. "No... Malak is the first foe we must overcome, but it does not end with him. Defeat him, and you will only convince the others all the more that we must be dealt with."

The young woman sighed, and stood, turning away. Once again, she uses the word "Jedi"... even though I am exiled, and she... I'm not certain if she ever was a Jedi. And she speaks of beating Darth Malak as though it were... a mere matter of time. I served alongside Malak... it's true, he's not a strategic genius, but he's not a moron, and he is a very powerful Force user. Not to mention the fact that he serves Revan- that man's support lends much power. "...So we have to fight Malak, then?" asked Mira quietly.

"Indeed. If you run, he will chase."

"In that case," declared Mira, raising her chin confidently, "I'd rather do it with another warrior on my side... even if they are a Jedi. Let us work on securing a route off this planet... but we should examine the feasibility of rescuing Bastila as well. I am sure she harbors no love for the Sith."

"If, indeed, they have not already turned her," noted Kreia coldly, and Carth's face went white. "Our course is set. I shall go for a walk." Then she stepped outside.

Mira sighed. "...Do you think she disapproves?" she asked sarcastically, sinking into a chair.

"Well, she has a point," admitted Carth. "Having been held for this long by the Sith... few young Jedi could hold out. She could have been turned."

"No," said Mira, shaking her head. "No, if they'd turned her, everyone would know. They would be shouting from the rooftops that the Republic's last hope had fallen to the Dark Side. That they have said nothing means she has not fallen, I am sure of it."

"It's possible. But that's not even the real problem. How... how can you so easily accept that you're going to have to fight Malak? I mean, I've been fighting him for years, but this isn't your fight! You're a civilian." He shook his head. "I don't understand it."

Mira closed her eyes. "It's not that simple, though. I may be a civilian now... but I was once a Jedi, and I was once a soldier. I turned my back on the military, and the Jedi turned their back on me, but that doesn't make me... free of any obligation. Letting the Sith run rampant was just... irresponsible, I suppose. I should have done something."

"No," said Carth quietly. "This wasn't your responsibility, Mira. Without your command, we probably wouldn't have even won the Mandalorian Wars. Revan was incredible, but he was just one man. Dxun, Althir, Malachor... those battles couldn't have been won without your leadership. You've won one war. You've done your part."

"That's what I've been telling myself ever since the War," sighed Mira. "But now with the Jedi Order all but dead, and the Republic not just on the verge of collapse, but actually collapsed, it's a little hard to stay convinced of that. The galaxy needs people to step up. I'm not so naive as to think that I can save the Republic, but I can't just sit back and watch, either."

"But... Darth Malak," insisted Carth.

Mira paused, and then began to laugh. "I'm sorry," she managed as Carth stared at her in disbelief. "It's just every now and then I remember his real name and I just can't keep a straight face!"

"His... real name?" said Carth, disarmed.

"What, you don't think he was born 'Darth Malak,' do you? Even 'Malak' is an adopted name. He took it up when he joined the war effort. He was born as Alek Squinquargesimus."

There was a long pause. "You're kidding." Carth looked a little stunned. "Squin... quarge... simus?" he repeated.

"We all just called him 'Squint' back at the Academy," added Mira, trying to keep a straight face.

There was a pause, and then both of them burst out laughing. Kreia came back in from her walk, and gave the two a bemused look, and then shook her head, and went to meditate in the corner. After a moment, Carth and Mira calmed down, their laughter trailing off. "...We're not going to have occasion to laugh like that again for quite some time, I suspect," commented Carth soberly.

"Yeah," agreed Mira, looking away. "It's going to be pretty rough.

Kel Merian couldn't help but grin as he saw the door. This particular apartment complex was home to alien immigrants, mostly displaced by wars, and many of them were illegal- no registry, no paperwork. As a Sith Officer, it was his job to pursue and capture these illegal aliens- no pun intended, ha. Since this building was known to house so many, Sith patrols had been raiding it on a regular basis. The last time was several days ago, and it had been necessary to break down the door- one of the tenants, or perhaps a landlord, had seen them coming, and hoped that locking the doors would discourage them. That had gone pretty badly, predictably, and they had only just managed to get the door in working order again. Wires were sticking out here and there, it was sparking randomly, and the metal was charred and bent in places. Kel glanced at one of his four trooper escorts, his grin still wide. "Blow it down," he ordered.

"Sir, I don't think it's locked-" began the trooper, and Kel's grin instantly vanished. "Yes sir, right away sir!" amended the trooper hastily. He stepped forward, strapped an explosive charge to the door, and then stepped back, and detonated it.

Kel strode in through the smoke and debris, raised his plaster pistol, and fired a shot into the ceiling. "This is an official Sith raid, authorized by my lord Darth Malak! Everyone against the wall, and maybe no one will have to die!" His troops entered after him, their rifles raised to handle any would-be heroes. The tenants out in the hallways sighed, and with the practiced familiarity of having done so every couple of days, pressed their foreheads against the wall with their hands on their heads.

The two Duros landlords strode forward to meet the Sith, but Kel aimed his pistol. "That's close enough, scum. You are the owners of this... cesspool?" he demanded.

"We were searched two days ago!" snapped one of the Duros angrily. "Why can't you people just leave us alone? We've done nothing to you!"

Kel narrowed his eyes, and fired, blasting the alien in the chest. The stunned landlord blinked, and then fell to the ground. "That's how we Sith deal with mouthy aliens!" snapped the officer. "Now stay against the wall unless you want to suffer the same fa-"

He froze. An apartment door was opened, and two humans had just stepped out of it. One of them was a young man with brown hair- well-built and with a confident stance. A Republic soldier, no doubt. And the second was a white-haired woman in a long brown robe... A Jedi! he realized. "Well now, it looks like this is my lucky day!" he announced happily. "Men, keep your weapons trained on those two- it looks like the aliens have been housing a Republic soldier and a Jedi. I'll get promoted for this, for certain..."

The brown-haired man raised his hands submissively. "We're unarmed," he announced with calm confidence.

Kel grinned as he walked slowly toward them. "Good, then. That means we won't have to shoot you just yet, I suspect. Lord Malak is bound to have some questions for you two... survivors from that Republic warship we shot down the other day, I imagine." There were some muffled thumping sounds behind him, but it sounded like one of his troops roughing up an alien. That was all well and good. He paid it no further attention.

Carth shrugged. "I am, but she isn't," he answered, nodding at Kreia.

Kel raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what are you supposed to be, old woman?" he jeered.

A small, knowing smile played at the corners of her mouth. "A distraction," she answered simply.

The Sith Officer stared for a moment, processing, and then quickly spun about, but was not quite fast enough. Mira pressed her vibroblade against his throat, and drove him against the wall with her free hand. His troops were lying on the ground, dead- killed quickly and quietly while he talked with the other two. Too late, he realized that if the apartment door had already been open, that this girl must have left already, and then the other two stepped out to draw his attention. "You have answers. I have questions. If at any point I do not like said answers, you die. We clear?" demanded Mira, staring him right in the eye.

"Yes. Yes!" barked Kel, already beginning to sweat. Oh god, I cannot die now. Not now, not here.

"Good," said Mira, inclining her head in the slightest of nods. "Question one- the blockade in the skies over Taris. What is required to get past the blockade?"

"Code," blurted the officer. "Security code, sixteen digits, letters and numbers. Changes daily. Transmit it when requested and you can pass, no questions asked."

"Interesting. And who has this code?" asked Mira, knowing full well that this idiot of an officer wouldn't have it himself.

"I-I don't know! Generals, fleet commanders! Sometimes they give it to transports and things, but only the current day's one!" Mira's blade pressed slightly closer, and Kel fought to maintain bladder control. "M-m-maybe some of the technicians in our Upper City headquarters!" he guessed quickly.

"That's where they're holding Bastila," noted Carth. "That was part of our briefing for this mission."

"Question two, then- how do we get in?" asked Mira.

Kel's mind raced. "I... I don't know! Get some uniforms, or... I don't know!" he barked.

The Exile sighed, and then calmly slashed his throat, and let him fall to the floor. "Can you handle the bodies?" she asked the surviving landlord.

"Y-yes! We'll take care of them before any more show up! ...Thank you?" he said uncertainly.

"I'm no friend of the Sith, don't mention it. Come on, let's get out of here," Mira told the other two.

Not a member of the Jedi Order... yeah, no kidding, thought Carth. Even I winced at that one. Jedi don't deal with situations like that. They don't... kill for convenience. He shook his head. He could worry about that later. "Mira, I was thinking about that, and I think it would be wiser for us to split up. I can try to track down some other Republic soldiers or sympathizers, and Kreia should probably stay here- they'll be looking for Jedi, and she... looks very Jedi."

Mira frowned a little. "That... makes sense," she agreed hesitantly. "Kreia, are you okay with that?"

"I can do as much here as elsewhere," answered the old woman. "There is much to consider. I will remain here."

The exile nodded. "Okay. Carth, do what you can. I'll see what kind of non-Republic support I can find... mostly just keeping my nose to the ground, I expect," she shrugged. "Let's go."

"Enter," declared a calm voice, and Darth Malak took a deep breath, and then entered the office (or one of the many offices) of the Sith Lord Revan. "Malak... so glad you could make it on such short notice."

Malak narrowed his eyes. "To be called away from Taris so suddenly, I expect that this is something fairly major, my lord," he hazarded, treading lightly despite his dislike for the man's tone.

Revan stared at him from behind his distinctive Mandalorian war mask. "You are hunting Republic soldiers on Taris- ones that came to free Bastila. I wanted to warn you that the problem is greater than it appears."

"They killed several apprentices, Revan, I'm hardly taking the problem lightly," scowled Malak. "They are dangerous, this much is obvious. Perhaps that... Onasi fellow is with them. Kath, or something like that."

"Carth Onasi, while a formidable pilot and soldier, is not the problem," said Revan smoothly. "I am certain he did not die in the cruiser's destruction- he is too tenacious a man for that- but you have greater forces aligned against you." He paused for a moment, and then sighed. "It would seem an old friend is on Taris."

Malak blinked uncomprehendingly. "Old friend, my lord?" he ventured. Few actual friends of his from before the war had chosen to side with the Republic, so it was likely that Revan meant this comment sarcastically, but in that event it could be any number of individuals from the old Jedi Order-

"I am referring to the former General Kast, Malak," explained Revan patiently. Malak gave him another blank look, and the Sith Lord sighed again. "From the war? Malachor?"

To his credit, Malak did not pale (though it would be hard to tell with a face like his), but he did lock up for a moment at the thought of this. "Her?" he managed. "I thought the Council had... dealt with her."

"You were wrong. She is on Taris. And she is not... forgiving," Revan noted. "She has tasted the Dark Side before, Malak. Be wary of her."

"Why should that be so dangerous?" the lesser Sith asked in his echo-y mechanical voice. "That will only make her easier to turn. It is easier to turn grey to black than it is to turn white."

Revan shook his head. "Foolishness, Malak. Those who have never tasted of the Dark Side are easy to turn because they underestimate its power. They think themselves invincible, and do not even realize what is happening. But those who have tasted the power- tasted it and rejected it- it is them that you should fear. For they know what they are up against, what it looks like, and how to avoid it. 'One cannot appreciate the true brilliance of light unless one has dwelled in shadow.'"

It sounded like a Jedi saying, but the message was not one the Jedi ever would encourage- the Jedi Order was all for living in the light in complete ignorance of shadow, sadly. Malak was curious, but to ask its source would be to admit ignorance, and in front of the Dark Lord of the Sith that was never wise, so he simply ignored the quote. "Very well, my lord. Is there anything else?" he asked obligatorily. He was already preparing himself mentallyf or the ride back- there never was anything else.

"As a matter of fact, there is another matter," noted Revan calmly. Malak paused uncertainly. "My apprentice has recently finished his training, and is ready for a little... action," he declared, motioning at a robed figure that Malak had not noticed before in the corner of the room. "He will help you deal with this problem on Taris. His aid will be most valuable, but do not forget- he does not answer to you. He answers to me, and me alone."

"My lord!' exclaimed Malak, surprised. "But I am your apprentice- your student!"

Revan shook his head gently. "You have been your own for a long time now, Malak. I stopped teaching you shortly after you stopped learning. It is my hope that this one will be able to handle a little more before I finish with him- perhaps I will even teach him enough to be satisfied. We will see."

"But my lord, if he is to come to Taris, he will need to follow my orders so that-" began Malak.

Revan cut him off with a stare. "...Twice you have defied me in our time as the lords of the Sith, Malak," he noted. "The first time, I cut off your jaw that dared question my leadership. The second time, I cut off your hand that dared designate my ship a target. I would hate for their to be a third incident- I am beginning to suspect that the problem is your mind, and removing that will cause you other problems," he noted drily. "Are we clear?"

Malak's prosthetic hand twitched at the words. The first incident, as Revan said, had been during their training to become Sith Lords, when Malak had called Revan soft, and said that he deserved to be the master, not Revan. There had been a brief lightsaber fight, and then Revan had sliced off his jaw. He'd gotten it covered with a vocalizer, so he could still speak (though with a mechanical reverberation to his voice) , but every time he made the effort to eat, he remembered Revan... and what he did to him.

The second time was when he tried to seize the throne through more indirect means. It was the middle of a battle, and Revan's ship had been boarded by a Jedi strike team. Revan was dealing with them, but he was occupied, and Malak had tried to take advantage of the opportunity, and ordered Revan's ship destroyed. Revan, however, had anticipated his betrayal, and the crew of Malak's ship turned on him, and restrained him. When Revan was done with the Jedi, he came for Malak... and the now crippled Sith considered it a mercy that the man had let him go with a mere lost hand. Revan displayed patience that Malak never had... but it was more clear than ever that his patience was not infinite, and he was beginning to lose faith in Malak.

He had to capture Mira Kast, their old ally from the war. He had to do it quickly, and without significant loses. And if he did, maybe, just maybe, Revan would decide that he was worth keeping around. "It will be done, my lord," declared Malak, bowing, and then he fled from the room. Revan's apprentice followed behind him quietly, watching the jawless Sith as he stormed down the hall toward his shuttle. "Can you fly a shuttle, apprentice?" demanded Malak.

The apprentice pulled back his hood. "Pure Pazaak," grinned Atton Rand with a nod.

Mira glanced up as another man sat next to her at the bar. "Can I buy you a drink?" he asked calmly.

The line was usually used as a pickup line, but the exile sensed that there was more to this question than some horny guy. She fixed the man with a more steady gaze. He was human, with greying hair and a small network of scars on his face. His eyes were a sharp steel grey, and his accent was strangely familiar... she couldn't quite place it, however. He met her gaze unblinkingly, and after a moment, she nodded slightly, and said, "Sure."

The man grinned. "I'm glad to see that you gave the question the proper consideration. I am, as you have likely inferred, not here for personal reasons. I come with a business proposal."

She raised an eyebrow. "Is that so...? Not to give up the advantage, but I'm a little surprised anyone even knows who I am yet."

"Oh, no one does," answered the man easily. "The only thing anyone knows about you is from some interesting security footage where you killed maybe a dozen Sith assassins. With your eyes closed, no less. That's the kind of thing that gets people's attention real fast."

"You're a pretty decent tracker to catch up with me just based on that," observed Mira.

"Coming from a fellow warrior, I take that compliment with pride," he nodded. "Canderous Ordo. Good to meet you."

Ah. I knew I recognized that accent. "Clan Ordo... it is an honor," Mira told the Mandalorian with a slight bow.

Canderous gave her a surprised look. "There aren't many who remember the Mandalorian clans- even among us Mandalorians." He looked her up and down curiously. "I admit to a little curiosity as to why a warrior would go into battle in a lab coat, however."

"Verd ori'shya beskar'gam," smiled Mira. It was a Mandalorian saying- "a warrior is more than his armor."

The man stared at her once again, and then began to laugh. "I don't think I've ever seen one for whom that saying was more true!" he declaring, shaking his head. "It's not an easy thing to take me off guard, and you've done so twice already. What's your name, warrior?"

"Mira Kast," said Mira with a respectful nod. Her instincts- maybe the Force? She couldn't really tell- were telling her that the man was alright. "What can I do for you?"

Canderous grinned. "It seems to me a warrior of your caliber might want to get off this rock. And I have some ideas as to how exactly that could happen."

Mira straightened up a little. "Perhaps I should be buying you a drink, then," she smiled. "Please, go on."

And that's chapter three! Two familiar (to those who've played the games) faces make their appearance, both characters I liked very much. You'll start to see more stuff from the Sith perspective as well- this is a third person story, so I might as well make the most of that!

Review, comment, question, and I'll see you folks next time!