Savior (chapters 1 and 2)
Title: Savior (chapters 1 and 2)
Author: elinatrevisan
Artist: Anna (art currently incomplete)
Beta: gravaja_umbros
Canon: Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic
Ratings: T
Warnings: Non-graphic violence and character death
Summary: The war with the Mandalorians is raging across the galaxy. Mala Noor, also known as Revan, has led the Republic in countless victories. Her leadership is put to the test, however, when she discovers an ancient threat that could destroy the galaxy. With only her oldest friends to aid her, she must embark in a search for the truth before all that she has worked to protect is lost.
Author's note: The title of this fic was taken from the song by 30 Seconds to Mars. You don't need to listen to that in order to understand this, but it does help set the tone, I think.
Chapter 1: The Archive Unit
"How many Mandalorians are in here?" Mala asked, looking around at the entrance to the cave-like structure. From the outside, she had assumed it to be a natural construction; caves were common in this area. As soon as she entered, however, all of those assumptions were dashed. Though there were obviously thousands of years of wear, the entrance hall still looked like a hall. It puzzled her somewhat, as there were no indications that this planet had ever supported any form of sapient life.
"We can't be sure," the young Jedi that was currently serving as her aide said. What was his name? Rath?
"Can we get an estimate, Commander Rath?"
"Somewhere between ten and twenty. Wouldn't it be better to simply seal off these caves, rather than chasing them down?"
"We have no way of knowing how many exits there might be. One of Cassus Fett's top lieutenants is in here, and I don't want him escaping. Also, I'd rather not turn this whole zone into a radioactive crater. That feels a bit excessive, even to me." She smirked at him, though she knew he couldn't see the gesture beneath her mask. The vocal modulator in her mask conveyed her tone, however, even as it changed it to a masculine tenor.
One of the techs approached them, and she turned her attention to him. "It's no good, general. Whatever these walls are lined with is blocking our signals."
"Well, at least that probably means that the Mandalorians can't call for reinforcements." The thought of stumbling in there blind was not appealing to her. "Rath, gather all of the Jedi to me. If the techs can't get us a layout, it's up to us."
The young Knight bowed. "Yes, master."
Within minutes, all of the Jedi had were kneeling in a circle and were attempting to use the Force to discern the maze of passages. The rock that blocked off the tech's signals apparently had the same effect on their senses, and Mala wondered if she could take a sample to study. Something like this could prove very useful.
Despite the interference of the stone, they soon had a basic layout of the ruined structure, as well as the location that the Mandalorians had retreated to. As Mala stood, one of the Jedi spoke up.
"Master," he said, "I don't like this place."
Another Jedi nodded. "I agree, master. There's a strong Dark Side presence here."
"I noticed," Revan agreed. "But we have all felt the presence of the Dark Side before, and none of us have succumbed. We'll be fine. No matter what the Jedi council may think of us." A few of the Jedi smiled at this. "Now, shall we take care of a few Mandalorians?"
As they progressed through the caves, they found that the map they had constructed from their Force excursion was incomplete. Numerous passages that branched off of their route were unmapped, and Mala resisted the urge to go down and explore them. She'd never seen ruins like these, with their high, curved arches and snaking carvings. She would have to send an excavation team through them after they had cleared the Mandalorians.
All of the Jedi froze as they approached one of these unmapped corridors. Mala turned and stared at it. She could almost see the dark energy pouring out of it.
One of the squad commanders turned to her. "Is something wrong, sir?"
"Master," Rath muttered.
"I sense it." She glanced around at the Jedi with her. She suddenly wished that one of her regular circle of advisors could be with her. Her old master, in particular, would be very comforting. Unfortunately, Dira had been requested aboard the Ordinance. Mala's childhood friend, Halae, was commanding her for now. Alek (or Malak, as he called himself ever since getting those ridiculous head tattoos) had returned to Coruscant to testify in the trial of the Mandalorian scientist, Demagol. Any of those three would know what to say.
She was about to tell everyone to move on, when she felt a sudden prompting to go down the corridor. Dira had taught her to always follow the will of the Force, no matter where it led.
"Rath," she said. "With me. Everyone else, continue on."
"Master?" Rath asked.
"Follow your orders. There's something down here, and I'd rather not have it behind us."
"Yes, master."
Mala nodded to the squad leaders, and the rest of the group continued on. As they progressed down the corridor, the Dark Side presence grew stronger. She had, in her time in the archives on Dantooine and in various ancient ruins and battlefields, sensed the presence of the Dark Side a number of times. This was nothing like that. The dark energy plucked at her mind, bringing images of death and destruction to her recollection. There was something down that corridor, something dangerous.
Rath suddenly doubled over, leaning against a wall, and began to retch. Mala waited until his spasms subsided, then stepped up beside him. "Are you going to be able to continue?"
He hesitated for a moment before answering, which provided all of the answer that she needed. "I shall be fine in a moment, master."
She shook her head. "If you can't focus, you're no good to me. Go back and rendezvous with the rest of the group. If you receive no word from me in a half hour, attempt to raise me on the comm, but don't follow." She hesitated. This place was probably the first known ruins of a previously unknown civilization. To damage them would be a terrible crime to her archivist's soul. "If you can't raise me, finish the mission and get out of here. Then seal off the caves and bomb it from orbit."
"Are you sure?"
"Do you want whatever is in here to get out?"
"No, master."
"Good. Then do as you're told. I'll deal with this, and then I'll see if I can rejoin you."
"Yes, master. Just... promise that you won't take any unnecessary risks."
She smiled. "Of course."
He nodded and turned around, leaning on the wall for support as he walked. Mala continued on. The corridor branched in several places, but it was always easy to know which way to go. The Dark Side led her on.
She finally entered a large room. The ceilings of this room were far taller than the halls had been, and it bore claw-like spires along the side walls. The far wall had two sets of shelves on either side of a large console with a red crystal. Light fixtures on the ceiling were directed at the crystal.
She stepped up to the shelves and looked at the tomes that were lined there. They were books of metal plates, bound together by rings. The years had degraded the metal somewhat, but not much. She picked one up and looked inside, studying the curling script written within. She had never seen it before, and decided to send Dira some scans when she got back to the Swiftsure. She placed as many of the volumes as she could into her bag, then moved to study the console.
The crystal seemed to be the main control mechanism, though she had no idea how it could work. It also felt like the center of the Dark Side energy in this place. Should she destroy it? That might put an end to the threat. Then again, it might be containing something that would then be released. She wished she had more time to study the console.
She stepped in front of the crystal. "Well," she muttered. "Vrook always said I was impetuous." She placed her hands on the crystal.
The lights shot on, and Mala could feel the Dark Side energy contract around her. She was unable to breathe for a moment, as the energy squeezed her lungs. The feeling dissipated as the lights brightened to blinding levels. She shut her eyes, but the light burned at her through her lids. This only lasted for a second, however, as the lights dimmed again. There was a semi-transparent figure now standing above the console. Its skin was red-tanned, its figure thin, its hair fair and flaxen. It stared down at her with dark eyes.
It opened its mouth and a soft, hissing language began to pour out. Mala was used to relying on the Force to understand languages that she had never faced before, though it never before had worked on computers. Now, however, she could feel the intent of the words as if it was a real person. That explained why the computer still worked after thousands of years: it was a Force projection, much like a holocron.
"This archive unit has not been activated for 2,393 solar revolution cycles," it said. "And you are not Sithras. Your life-form is similar to the Zhell of Notron, but there are genetic differences. State your query."
She recognized Zhell and Notron as referring to the early humans on Coruscant, but she had never heard of the Sithras before.
Mala stepped back from the console to better view the figure. If it was Force-based, would it understand her? There was only one way to find out. "I am General Revan, commander of the Jedi Expeditionary Task Force. What is the purpose of this unit?"
The figure spoke. "This unit is unable to process your speech. Technological interference is detected. This problem will be corrected."
Mala jerked back as a hot pain seared her throat, and she heard an electric spark from within her mask. She pulled it off and saw that the voice modulator had been scorched into a twisted lump of metal. She raised one hand to the burn that it had left and healed it as best she could. The Dark Side presence made it difficult, but she was able to ease the pain, and she doubted it would scar. She stared at the figure. What kind of computer used Force projections and had the ability to do something like that? She swallowed deeply and repeated her introduction, now in her natural voice.
"Greetings, Revan. This is an archive unit, left behind by the Order of Darth to aid any remaining Sithras that did not receive retreat coordinates. This unit also serves to aid any lesser life-forms in improvement, allowing them to gain knowledge of Sithras culture and history and learn from it. If you wish to learn of this culture, you may make inquiries."
Mala's childhood, spent for so long in the archives of the Jedi enclave on Dantooine, had taught her nothing of these Sithras, whoever they were. She would love nothing more than to spend hours learning from this computer, but she knew that she didn't have the time. Rath had most likely reached the rest of their group by now, and her clock was ticking.
"I'm afraid I don't have the time to learn as much as I would like. You said that this unit was left by the Sithras. Who are they?"
"The Sithras, as a discrete group, first emerged after the war of-"
"Could you be more brief? I don't have time for a full history lesson."
"The Sithras are a sub-race of the larger Sith population." Mala's blood ran cold. "They are characterized by their browner skin, fair hair, dark eyes, and height. They were created through centuries of crossbreeding with a very specific group of Zhell, as well as various slave races."
"Did you say Sith?"
"Yes. Is your hearing damaged in some form?"
"No," she said faintly. Her mind was racing. She knew that the Sith had once been a race, of course. She also knew that they had bred with humans, but she had never heard of these Sithras. "You said that the Sith were retreating. Retreating from what?
"Cultural corruption."
She waited a moment, hoping that the unit would elaborate, but it did not. "I'm afraid that you'll need to be more specific."
"The Sithras are a proud race which held to the old ideals of power and change. The Sithras way of life was under threat from a growing movement of new ideology which discouraged the challenging of power, instead encouraging individuals to remain withing their caste and accept their position. Rather than face this movement in a frontal attack, the Sithras chose to retreat to the ends of the known galaxy to gain strength until they could attack more securely."
"Explain more of this Sithras ideology."
"The Sithras believe in power through change. While stability has its advantages, it also leads to stagnation. Without allowing the strong to rise up and challenge the current authority, there is no way to ensure that the strong rule. If challengers are allowed to rise and attempt to take power, then a society is strengthened. The weak are killed and eliminated from the gene pool, and the strong are able to lead."
"That sounds like anarchy."
"It is the duty of those in power to control those under their reign. Leaders are interchangeable, and one is capable of taking over directly from another. Thus, order is retained."
"I suppose it's a good thing the Sith were wiped out," Mala muttered to herself.
"You are incorrect."
Mala's brow furrowed. "What?"
"The Sithras remain."
"No. No, that's not possible. The last of the Sith were wiped out in a war."
"This unit received communications from the Order of Darth only fifteen planetary revolutions ago. The probability of the entire Sithras population, a group of approximately three billion, being killed in a war in that period of time is incredibly small."
"Surely there's a delay between a message being sent and received."
"You are assuming that Sithras communications are signal-based, which would take time to travel the light years in distance. Sithras communications are Force-based, allowing a message to be sent and received at the same moment. There is no time delay."
All of Mala's ill feelings began to make sense to her now. "Are you saying that there are a group of ancient Sith sitting somewhere in the Unknown Regions, capable of instant communication with our part of the galaxy?"
"If you choose to identify the Sithras people under the general term of 'Sith', then yes."
This was a disaster. She had to warn the senate, the Jedi, everyone. But she had to know more. "What... what are you? How was this terminal created? How is it still functioning, after all these years? How do you understand my language?"
"This unit is a Force-based intelligence simulation and knowledge repository. Reliance on mechanical or electrical parts which are subject to degradation were kept to a minimum to ensure a long life. This unit also bears the physical appearance and abilities of Hasheth Sithrun Ashtaltha Pisrath, an enemy of the Darth Trishlasa. He was sentenced to computer integration after capture."
"What does that mean, 'computer integration'?"
"His Force essence was harnessed and placed within the control crystal of this unit."
"So he was killed?"
"No. In death, one's Force essence is freed. While Hasheth Sithrun Ashtaltha Pisrath's body was destroyed, his essence is still bound within this computer."
Mala swallowed deeply. She'd read theoretical discussions that mentioned the trapping of a being's life energy within a computer, and she had long suspected that it was possible. It was an entirely different matter to be faced with the enslaved soul of a dead man. "What did this man do to deserve this punishment?"
"He angered the Darth Trishlasa, as this unit has already stated. Is there a problem with your short-term memory?"
"I was wondering what he did to anger this Trishlasa person."
"This unit does not know. Do you have further inquiries?"
"Yes, of course." She took a moment to order her thoughts, only to be interrupted by the buzzing of her comm.
"General Revan," the orange squad leader's voice issued from the device.
"What?" she snapped. She took a deep breath and spoke again, more calmly. "I mean, Revan here. What is it?"
"Is that you, General?" Her brows furrowed. The signal was degraded by the stone's unique properties, but her voice must surely have still been recognizable.
"Yes, of course it is."
"It's just... you sound like a woman. Sir."
Mala looked at the mask in her hand. She'd forgotten about that. "Ah. My mask's voice projector is malfunctioning. It's altering my voice. Is this the half-hour check-in?"
"Y-yes, sir. This is very disconcerting, sir."
Mala rolled her eyes. "Focus, Commander."
"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. We're close to the Mandalorians, but they retreated farther into the caves. Do you want us to continue to pursue?"
Mala glanced at the Force projection, which stood serenely above the console, awaiting her instructions. "No. I want you to withdraw."
"Sir?"
"You heard me. Withdraw from the caves and bring in a demolition team. One hour from your exit, I want you to seal this place off, whether I'm out or not. If I'm not out, I then want you to withdraw from the planet and turn this zone to glass."
Her words were greeted with silence.
"Do you copy, commander?"
"Yes, sir," he said. "But... do you require assistance in there? I could send one of the other Jedi-"
"No!" The last thing she wanted was to show this to Rath or one of the other Jedi in their group. "Just listen to your damn orders! Revan out!"
She cut the comm channel and returned her attention to the projection. She had a definite time limit now. "Alright, we need to be quick. What was this recent communication from your Order of Darth about? Why do they need to be contacting you?"
"That question involves current Sithras military activities, and security clearance must first be obtained. Do you wish to apply for clearance?"
"No. You said that the Sithras retreated into the Unknown Regions. What are their exact coordinates?"
"That question involves current Sithras military activities, and security clearance must first be obtained. Do you wish to apply for clearance?"
"No, damn it!" She slammed her fist into the console. She took another deep breath, keeping her gaze focused downwards. The Dark Side energy in this place was getting to her. She had to remain calm. "Alright. How does one obtain security clearance?"
"A mental probe is performed on the applicant. If their mental defenses are of sufficient strength to defend against an interrogation and they are found to have a psyche in line with Sithras doctrine, then security clearance is granted. The process takes an average of thirty seconds, and is nearly painless unless the check is failed."
She glanced back up. "And what happens then?"
"In most cases, death. If the subject is sufficiently skilled in defensive Force abilities, it is only painful and temporarily debilitating."
Mala weighed the risks in her mind. She had no idea what these Sith would consider to be debilitating, but she doubted she would like it. Also, the phrase "nearly painless" gave her pause. Would her mind be strong enough? She was fairly good at throwing up a mental shield, but was it enough? And if she didn't do this, what would happen?
"Alright. Do it."
"Stand still while the check is made."
There wasn't even the slightest pause before the attack began on her mind. She was already slightly weakened by the Dark Side presence in the room, but she managed to stand strong against the initial assault. She doubted that she would be found to be in line with Sithras doctrine, so she couldn't let her shield fail.
She was so focused on defending against the brute force attack on her psyche that she almost didn't notice a softer, gentler infiltration behind it. She hurriedly tried to block it off, but it was too late. Her whole body erupted in pain, and she doubled over.
"You have failed the security check. Your mind is both weak and in direct opposition to the ideals of the Sithras people. You are to be punished. If you are strong enough, you shall not die. This unit encourages you to do so, however, as it would free resources for-"
She heard no more as everything went dark.
When she awoke, she had no idea how much time had passed. She stood slowly, her knees shaking. Whatever the archive unit had done to her, it left her completely drained. She raised her arm to check her chrono. Her eyes widened, and she swept up her mask. Mala began to run, her legs slipping from beneath her at first before she finally regained complete control.
She attempted to raise her troops on the comm, but found that it was fried. Her men had probably been trying to raise her for the past ten minutes, at least.
She felt the first explosion as she turned into the final corridor. It seemed that the demolition team had decided to bring down rocks from higher up on the cliff face to seal the entrance. She felt deep within her, hoping desperately to find some reserves of power that could allow her to rush out before the boulders.
She was in the entrance hall now, and she could see the first rocks beginning to fall. The rumbling ground and the sound of the explosives brought her thoughts back to the Mandalorians and the slaughter at Cathar. If she died in here, she wouldn't be able to fight them anymore. The thought filled her with rage, and a new wellspring of strength flowed into her. She channeled her power into her legs and forced herself to run faster than any normal human could. She leapt onto the rocks at the entrance of the cave, propelling herself off of them and clearing the area. A few stray boulders threatened to crush her as she flew through the air, but she batted them away with the Force. She hit the ground running.
As soon as she was out of danger, she allowed herself to slow, then collapsed. The rage left her, only to be replaced with horror. Had that been the Dark Side? Her strength certainly hadn't come from serenity. She felt dirty.
She heard approaching footsteps and put her mask back on. She could show neither her face nor her emotions to these people.
"Master!"
She looked up and saw Rath running towards her. She didn't know how, but she managed to stand as he approached. He reached out an arm to help her, and she considered pushing it away. Then her knees buckled, and she grudgingly accepted his assistance.
"We did as you ordered, Master. The cave is sealed. What are your orders?"
She attempted to speak, but her mouth was dry and clogged with dust from the falling rocks. She cleared her throat. "Remove all of our troops from the planet. I don't want a single soul left here. Then slag it."
"Are you certain, Master Revan? These plains could serve as a great staging area for-."
"Don't question orders!" she snapped. She immediately felt the disturbing power begin to rise within her again, and she pushed away her irritation. "There is something here which must never be seen again. I don't know how large those ruins are, so take out the entire zone. Also, I want a message sent to the Ordinance requesting that Master Dira be sent to me at once. I need her expertise."
"At once, master. Is there anything else you wish?"
"I want orders to be sent out amongst everyone here that this place and the events that have transpired here are classified. No one is to discuss even the existence of those caves. Understood?"
"Yes, Master. I'll take care of it. Are you alright? Do you want to see a medic?"
She took a moment to inventory her body. As far as she knew, there was no physical damage done besides the small burn on her throat. "No. I simply need to rest."
"Yes, Master."
Chapter 2: Korriban
Mala's eyes opened sluggishly. She took a moment to attempt to recall her dreams, and they came to her mind all too quickly. There had been dark-robed forms carrying red lightsabers. She was forced to watch on in horror as they killed her friends. Malak had fallen in the burning and crumbling ruins of Mala's old room on Dantooine. His enemy was a short, slight shape wielding two blades. Dira managed to put up a better fight, wielding multiple weapons with the power of her mind before finally being cut down by a tall figure. Her location was less clear, thought it was some dark place strewn with the wreckage of hundreds of Republic ships. Even Kavar had been shot through by lightning from an old, withered hand that was only barely visible through a thick fog. In the end, only Halae stood beside her against the dark forms.
She breathed deeply, attempting to calm her racing heart. It was probably just a dream. She wasn't surprised that at the nightmare, considering all that had happened the day before. There was no real reason to believe it to be a premonition. If she repeated that enough, she might just start to believe it.
Her lights shot on, and she leapt to stand on the bed. Her sabers were in her hands and ignited before her eyes could adjust to the sudden light.
"Your reflexes are slipping."
She blinked until she could see properly. Her eyes were drawn to the brown-robed figure that had spoken, and she sighed. Even without seeing the old woman, she would know that voice anywhere. The sight of the gray hair pulled into a severe bun and those deep brown eyes would always be reassuring to Mala. She switched off the weapons and allowed them to fall to her bed. "Master Dira. What are you doing here so soon? I thought Halae was still at Lantillies."
"She is. I came as soon as I heard you'd sent for me. She knew you were in distress several hours before the message reached us, however. You know how she is."
Mala nodded and climbed off the bed. She moved to her mirror and worked on pulling her hair back into a bun. "How did you get here so soon?"
"I didn't. You've been asleep for over 48 hours."
"Oh."
Dira took a seat in the chair at the desk. "That poor aide of yours was in a panic when I arrived. He was afraid that you'd died in here, and was nearly ready to enter to retrieve your corpse. I was able to talk him down."
"Thank you, Master." She finished taming her hair (as much as she ever could) and studied her burn in the mirror. She was pleased to see that it had disappeared almost entirely. No physical signs remained of her encounter on the planet. She opened her closet and began to dress.
"So do you intend upon explaining to me why you called me here? I imagine it has something to do with the reason why you slept for days."
Mala paused, her shirt halfway off. "I guess I should. To be honest, I'm not sure where to begin."
"I find that chronological order is generally the simplest."
"Right." And so, she started at the beginning: the Mandalorians' retreat into the strange ruins, her discovery of the ancient computer, and then all that she learned from it. She explained the failed security check, and considered leaving out the details of her escape. She looked once into Dira's eyes, and knew that she couldn't. The woman knew her far too well for that to pass. She explained the rage and desire for vengeance that had powered her escape. She closed her eyes and waited for the chastisement that was sure to follow.
"I see."
Mala continued to wait, but nothing more came. She hadn't expected rage; that wasn't Dira's style. It was far more likely that her tone would remain neutral, her volume low, but that the words she spoke would leave Mala feeling incredibly small. That woman could cut with words far better than anyone else Mala knew. After another moment of silence, she finally looked up. Dira's face was shadowed, pensive. Mala finally spoke, unable to stand the silence. "Aren't you going to say something?"
"What do you want me to say? That you shouldn't have done what you did? I won't."
"But... the Dark Side. It's evil."
Dira laughed, and her face cleared. "My dear girl, I am far too old and have spent far too long studying ancient histories to believe it to be as simple as that."
Mala knew that her old master had theories about the Dark Side which differed from the other masters, but this seemed far more than that. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that history can teach many things about Dark and Light. Your statement is understandable, but an oversimplification. The Dark Side and evil often go hand in hand, just as the Light Side and good often do, but that isn't all. Have you ever met a Dark Jedi?"
"Not personally, no."
"And have you ever met a bad Jedi?"
Her mind immediately flew to the council, and their inaction. Surely not all of them were bad, necessarily. Kavar and Vandar certainly were good, though with bad judgment on the matter of the Mandalorians. Atris, however... Mala had clashed with her often, and had difficulty describing her as anything else. "Yes," she said.
"Do you begin to see my point?"
"I think I do. But how could the Dark Side be anything but evil?"
"We can see that in your own situation. You called me because you believe this to be an immediate threat, correct?" Mala nodded. "Very well. and if you had been sealed in those ruins? Would you have been able to do anything about this danger?"
"Well, no, but-"
"And was there any other way that you could have escaped those ruins?"
Mala had quite never believed that a person could ever be faced with only one option. "I'm sure there was another way."
"Allow me to rephrase. Did you see any other way that you could have escaped those ruins?"
"Not at the time, no."
"So any alternate course of action would have been rather pointless, since you couldn't think of it. So, even with your rather brief brush with the Dark Side, do you consider yourself to be 'evil'?"
"No. Not really."
"Then the Dark Side has served a good purpose. You remain here to save lives, no worse for the wear, and you have now alerted another to the danger these Sithras pose."
All of Dira's words made perfect logical sense. The problem was that emotions were rarely logical. "It still feels wrong."
"As it should. I believe that to be a natural reaction, designed to help keep us from falling. The Dark Side may not be inherently evil, but if we rely on it completely, I believe that it atrophies our own natural abilities. Those feelings exist to keep us from using it as a crutch. Now, if your conscience has been assuaged, shall we focus on the imminent Sith threat? Where are these metal plates of yours? Perhaps we can translate them."
Mala retrieved the volumes from the locked drawer where they had been secured and Dira took a small stack to the desk. They began to work. Dira's previous experience as an archivist was quite useful, but they made little progress. After almost four hours of frustration, Mala's stomach growled loudly.
Dira glanced up at her. "When did you last eat?"
"Um... Right before we landed on the planet, I think."
"That was three full days ago. Have you had anything to drink?"
"Yes. During the battle."
Dira sighed and shook her head, while Mala felt slightly embarrassed. This was hardly the first time that this had happened. Normally whoever served as her aide saw to it that she received regular meals, but she had told Rath not to enter her quarters unless she called for him.
"In my defense," Mala said, "I was asleep for two of those days."
"Yes," Dira said, her voice dripping with dry humor. "I suppose I shall have to be the adult here and fetch us some food from the mess hall. I trust that you won't forget to breathe, too, while I am away?"
"I think I'll manage."
"Very well." Dira stood and left the room. Mala took up the now-vacant seat at the desk and began to work.
The script used in these records was unfamiliar to both of them. Dira had commented that she might have seen something similar, but she didn't know where. The list of possible locations was so immense, they didn't even bother attempting to figure it out.
They were able to identify the basic alphabet, and they could tell what marks were punctuation or other similar notation. It wasn't particularly complicated, as far as they could tell. There were less than forty different characters. Dira had been working on checking the recurrences of them in an attempt to determine their usage. Mala wished that she'd recorded the speech used by the Sithras computer, but the thought hadn't occurred to her at the time.
It looked like Dira had made some progress, as she had been using some of the pictures and graphs to discern meaning from the words around them. Mala knew that her own skills in this area were nothing when compared to those of her old master, but the pictures could tell her something. She turned to a diagram that took up an entire page and began to study it.
It was a large rounded blob, within which there were others. They were placed seemingly at random, though no two intersected and they combined to cover most of the space within the larger section. Each smaller blob held several sets of small ovals within them. She studied one of these sets of concentric shapes and noticed a small bit of script next to a dot along the circle. The writing was too small to read, however. She searched along the other circles and saw several more dots and several more bits of script. She moved to her console and scanned the page in so that she could zoom in.
With the larger computer image, she was able to see that there were several of those dots with writing beside them. Each one seemed to be made up of three separate words or phrases. One of those phrases was the same between all of them, while the second phrase bore the same first few characters. The third phrase was different between each one. One of the dots had an extra phrase and a strange symbol that Mala hadn't seen elsewhere in any of the documents. She isolated and magnified this mark.
It almost looked like a curly star burst shape. Their entire script seemed to be made up of swirls and hooks, with very few straight lines. For this particular symbol, it was probably not a letter, which could mean it was a pictograph. If she assumed it had been stylized somewhat, what would it look like normally?
She began to edit the image, straightening the lines and removing the curls. It was difficult to tell, but it was probably either a star burst or an arrow pointing at the dot. Possibly some combination of the two.
The Force is a strange thing, and it works through different people in different ways. Mala was prone to visions of the future. Other times, the Force would take a more subtle route. Vague impressions or stray thoughts could be the result of the Force. This was what happened now.
She stared at the image, and three words came to her mind.
"You are here," she muttered softly. She switched to the image of the whole page and looked at it again. "A galaxy map!" She brought up a current galaxy map and overlaid the image. It needed to be twisted, as apparently the Sithras had a different idea of galactic north. There were some discrepancies, and it only showed a small portion of the galaxy, but it was unmistakeable. She assumed the differences to be due to stellar drift, and she set the computer to analyze it and use that to determine the age of the map.
3,000 years. Her eyes widened. These were some of the earliest Sith documents ever discovered. There was no way to be entirely certain, but the computer was probably accurate up to at least a century. That placed it some time during the Hundred-Year Darkness, before the Jedi Exiles met with the Sith race.
The door opened and Dira entered with a full tray of food. "I ran into your little aide out in the hall. He was apparently still under the impression that you'd passed away in here, and that I was simply sitting with your corpse, or something like that. I assured him you were well, and sent him on his way."
"Master!" Mala completely ignored everything that had just been said. She ran over to her master and pointed at the screen. "I've found something!"
"Any progress is welcome."
"This page is a galaxy map, with several planets marked. This one is marked differently than the others. It's the planet where I found the Sithras ruins."
Dira set down the tray and studied the screen. Her eyes widened a fraction. "Oh, my. Do you know what planet this is?" She pointed at one of the marked planets.
Mala's brow furrowed. The planet wasn't marked on the current galaxy map. She shook her head.
Dira smiled. "I can now recall where I've seen writings like this before. It was a rubbing of wall carvings on Korriban." Dira tapped the screen.
Mala stared at the planet. "That... is Korriban?"
Dira nodded. "I'm not surprised it isn't marked on your map. Travel there is... discouraged."
"Were you able to translate those wall carvings?"
"To an extent. It was a slightly different script than this, but it could be useful."
"I don't suppose you remember anything about the language?"
"I've translated a great many ancient languages. This was a single translation from decades ago, which I have never looked at since. No, I do not."
"Is there any way we can get access to your previous translations?"
"Short of breaking into the Jedi archives on Dantooine? No."
Mala groaned. "Alright. Well, what about repeating your work? How did you translate it before?"
"Don't give up hope just yet. This map details the region generally understood to be Sith space during the period of this map, but it clearly isn't a map of Sith planets. Ziost, for example, isn't marked, while other planets are. What if this is a map of Sithras worlds?"
Mala looked over the map. "I suppose it would make sense. What are the odds of finding ruins on one of these other planets?"
Dira once again pointed to Korriban. "Korriban is largely unexplored by the Republic. The climate can be harsh, but only if one hopes to live there. Structures are generally well-preserved. And besides that, these Sith ruins have a tendency of remaining hidden until they want to be found. I suspect that if one set has been found, the others may present themselves to us as well."
"Alright," Mala said. "So we need to go to Korriban. But I can't leave the fleet. Not only could it be dangerous to the war effort, it would raise too many questions if I were to leave."
"Perhaps you should invest in a body double."
"That solves one problem, but not the other. I need to remain in contact with the fleet."
"I don't know how to tell you this, but I doubt that your absence for a month will result in our losing the war."
Mala smirked. "Perhaps. I am, however, an intractable control freak." She turned her eyes back to the galaxy map. "No, I need to send a part of the fleet there." She began to pace the room. "Korriban is in a tactically difficult place. It's deep enough into Mandalorian territory that getting there could be difficult, but it's not so deep that it's impossible. It's also not a particularly useful staging area, so our trip there will need some sort of justification. I'll need time to think on this."
"I take it that you don't wish to go public with the real reason for your mission?"
"Of course not. If I go public without any concrete proof of the danger, I'll just sound like a lunatic. No, this will be a secret."
"Perhaps you should consult Halae, then. She is nearly as good a tactician as you; I'm sure she could aid you in finding a justification to go to Korriban."
Mala thought to her lifelong friend, the woman who served now as her tactical advisor. She thought of explaining the method used to escape the collapsing ruins, and her blood ran cold. "No," she said. "No, I can't tell Halae this. Not yet. Only you and I are to know." Dira understood her need for the Dark Side in those moments. Halae wouldn't. She brought up her tactical map on the computer, with the latest movements of both fleets. "Just give me a few hours, and I'll have what I need."
"Very well. Just do me one favor."
"What?" Mala said, flicking through intelligence reports, her mind already filled with plans and troop movements.
"Eat something."
- - - - -
Mala found her reason before long. While Korriban itself remained untouched by the Mandalorians, there was a supply convoy that passed through that system. She'd known about the convoy for weeks, but hadn't deemed it important enough to shut down. Still, it was a major enough supply route that no one would question her sending a few ships to the system. What people did question, however, was Revan's presence on one of these ships. None of them spoke directly to her, thankfully, and she ignored the murmurs.
Dira took over her regular position as aide and advisor, and they took quarters aboard the lead interdictor. Even during her days on the planet, she would be able to maintain contact with the ship and, through it, the fleet. With any luck, no one would even notice she was gone.
After overseeing their arrival in system and the setup of their blockade, she changed into a set of nondescript brown robes. She didn't often wear them and appear publicly under her true identity. It was refreshing to hear people refer to her with the proper pronouns on occasion.
She looked up as her door swished open and Dira entered. "I've requisitioned the shuttle," her old master said. "This hall should be clear for several minutes, so no one will see you leaving these quarters."
"Thank you," Mala said, taking up her lightsabers and the datapad that contained all of their translation notes. "The next supply convoy isn't predicted to come through here for another week, so we should have until then."
They stepped out of Mala's quarters and headed towards the shuttle bay. The two of them drew a few stares, but it was nothing like Mala received while wearing her mask and armor. She was treated as just another Jedi. She took a deep breath and sighed contentedly.
Dira glanced at her. "Why do you wear the mask?" Her voice was low enough that no one who passed by could hear them.
"You know why. I swore not to remove it until the Mandalorians have been defeated."
"And yet you aren't wearing it now."
"It's a morale-boosting gesture. So long as the public never sees me without it, it serves its purpose. It makes me a symbol. People don't follow individuals the way that they follow symbols."
"You don't need a mask to be a symbol."
"No, but I need one if I want to be anything other than a short Jedi woman with bad hair." She turned her head to face Dira and smirked. "I have no illusions as to my appearance. I'm not intimidating. I'm not inspiring. The mask is." Her eyes turned forward again. "And besides, I can wear platform shoes and shoulder pads with the mask. It's amazing how much more respect you get when you're taller than the average twelve-year old."
Dira sighed and shook her head. "Anyone can be intimidating and inspiring. Even you. I have seen it."
"You know me. You know that I'm fully capable of acting on my threats. Most don't." They stopped in front of the shuttle bay and Dira swiped a pass card. Mala tried to use her own as little as possible. The less of an imprint that Mala left, the better.
They approached the sergeant that was in charge of the shuttles, and Dira took charge. "General Dira Rimora and Commander Mala Noor, to take shuttle PJ-03 on a reconnaissance mission."
The sergeant looked up at them. "Ah, yes. Revan's orders, right?"
"That is correct."
He pulled out a datapad. "Kinda strange, don't you think? Sending two Jedi on a recon mission?"
"Are you questioning Revan's orders?" Dira narrowed her eyes.
"No!" He quickly finished the appropriate paperwork. "Of course not! Never!" Mala smirked. The man passed the datapad to Dira. "Here you are, Master Jedi. Best of luck."
"Thank you, sergeant."
As Mala strapped herself into the pilot's seat, she turned to Dira, grinning widely. "See? The mask works."
Dira rolled her eyes.
- - - - -
They decided to start their search at the ruins where Dira had seen a similar alphabet. With any luck, they could simply use those as a basis for the Sithras language. The ruins weren't difficult to find, and they set camp. The alphabets were definitely related, but using the known language as a basis produced nothing but gibberish.
When Dira ordered a break for a meal, Mala reluctantly set down her datapad and moved to the small pile of field rations that they'd brought along. She sighed and tore open the wrapper on a bar. "I don't think we're getting anywhere," she muttered before taking a bite of the tasteless hunk of vitamins.
"Give it time. You can't expect to learn an entire language in a single day."
"I don't think time will help. I think we're looking at more than an older dialect."
"What do you mean?"
"Surely you've noticed it, too. The structure of the language is completely different. This is practically a different language with a similar alphabet."
Dira chewed slowly, her eyes distant. "You may be right. What gave you this impression, though?"
"Just a feeling."
"Trust your feelings. The Force acts through you unlike any other Jedi I have seen."
"So what do we do?"
"First, we should eat. Then we can begin to search for Sithras ruins."
Mala nodded. A part of her feared those ruins, but her fear of the Sithras' plans was far greater.
They packed up their camp and climbed into the shuttle. Mala sat in the pilot's seat, her hands resting on the controls.
"So," she said. "Where to?"
"Don't ask me. You are the one who seems to be guided to these ruins."
"I don't know where to go. You know more about the various sites on Korriban. Any ideas?"
"None whatsoever. As I said, the Jedi haven't explored much here."
"Great." Mala sighed. "Well, I really hope the Force takes over." She started up the shuttle and lifted off. "North sounds good. We'll try that."
Mala flew reasonably slow. Korriban was covered in ruins, and she didn't want to miss seeing any. And they didn't. They flew for hours, and every time they passed over a ruined structure or cave opening, Dira would point it out and Mala would dismiss it. The architecture style was never quite right. Besides that, none of them felt right. After a few hours, a craggy mountain range rose up in front of them.
"Those look harsh," Dira said. "I can't imagine any settlements in there."
Mala's brow furrowed. "Don't make assumptions. The Sithras said they broke off from the main group of Sith, right? It would make sense that any settlements on Korriban would need to be hidden from them. Where better than an inhospitable and inaccessible mountain range?"
"You have a point."
"I'm going in."
"It'll be difficult to see anything in there."
"Good thing we have the Force on our side, isn't it?" Mala smirked and dove the ship down into a narrow valley. It twisted and turned, and Mala moved with it. She knew that they needed to be taking their time and searching carefully, but she couldn't resist the urge to up the speed. She loved to watch the walls and rocks pass by in a blur. She glanced out the corner of her eye to see Dira's hands in a white-knuckled grip on the edge of her seat. "What, don't you trust my skills?"
"Of course." Mala swung down underneath a rocky outgrowth with no more than a meter of space on all sides. Dira's eyes closed. "If I didn't, then I wouldn't let you pilot. However, fear is a natural reaction to anything the subconscious perceives as dangerous stimuli."
Mala turned the shuttle on its side to pass through the narrow valley between two cliffs, and all of the unsecured supplies flew to the far wall. A shyrack flew at them, and she dropped altitude to avoid it. The supplies bounced along the wall. Dira placed one hand over her mouth and opened her eyes again. She was looking rather pale. Mala hoped she wouldn't vomit in here. Especially since gravity would cause the vomit to fall on her, rather than into Dira's own lap. "I find it interesting that you're capable of using words like 'subconscious' and 'stimuli' when you're about to piss yourself. You really have control over your emotions, don't you?"
Dira's words were muffled under her hand. "I try."
The shuttle righted itself as the valley widened, then all of the supplies went flying forward when Mala brought the shuttle to an abrupt stop. Mala's bag, which had been carelessly thrown into the back, slammed into Dira's head.
"Ow!" Dira raised one hand to rub the spot. "Be glad that we're both competent healers! You may have given me a concussion!"
Mala didn't respond; she could only stare at the mountain before them. It took Dira a moment before she turned to look. A large opening was carved into the rock, and two large claw-like arms formed an arch around the entrance.
"Is that it?" Dira asked.
Mala nodded, her face blank of emotion. "It's in better shape than I expected. It looks practically untouched."
"The mountains probably shielded it somewhat from the elements. Well, it looks like there's room to land here."
"Yeah." Mala dropped the ship down and they began to unload. She felt uneasy here, which was just another sign that they were in the right place.
They set up their camp in the entrance hall, where they could easily escape to the shuttle if necessary. Once that was done, they set out to explore the ruins. They were smaller than Mala expected. It wasn't a full hidden city, but appeared to be a small military outpost.
They ran across a computer terminal near the center of the complex, but left it alone until they'd finished mapping out the entire layout and sent it up to Mala's computer on the ship. Before leaving her quarters, she had placed all of their information on the Sithras into a single file and made a program that would transfer it to Malak and Halae if they didn't return from the planet within two weeks. That way, even if something should happen to the two of them, someone would still know about the danger the Sithras posed.
After Mala finished the transfer, they returned to the computer room. This one, like the other, had a number of metal tomes on the shelves, and Dira immediately set to work scanning them.
Mala stepped up to the control crystal. "I'm going to activate it now, Master Dira."
The old woman looked up at this announcement, but said nothing. Mala hated it when she did that.
She placed her hands on the crystal. The activation of the computer wasn't as frightening as it had been before, now that she was expecting it. It was just as uncomfortable, however. This projection looked different from the previous one. It was obviously of the same species, though this one appeared to be a female. Her skin was a deeper red, and her face was narrower and more angular.
"This archive unit has been inactive for 892 solar revolution cycles," it said. "You match no known lifeforms. State your query."
This one seemed more terse than the previous unit. Was that some sort of leftover from the person who had been put into the computer? "I am General Revan, commander of the Jedi Expeditionary Task Force. This woman with me is Captain Dira Rimora, one of my former masters."
"State your query."
"This unit is not the only Sithras computer I have encountered. At the previous unit, I was unable to learn much of your culture before I was... forced to leave. My master and I have been studying the tomes that we received at that location, but we have been unable to decipher your language. We wish to learn to read and understand it, that we may study your writings."
"Very well. Stand by."
Mala wondered if it was preparing to boot a tutoring program when she suddenly felt something in her mind, and she threw up her defenses. Had the other unit communicated her failure of the security check, and now this one was attempting to finish the job? That theory was dashed as the computer easily slipped through her barriers, and she felt no pain. She heard Dira gasp behind her.
"Transfer complete."
This time when the computer spoke, she understood the words themselves, rather than simply the meaning behind them. She looked to one of the carvings on the wall and read the words running across the top. "Cultural Archive Unit, Korriban Division."
When Mala spoke, she attempted to do so in the Sithras language. She was somehow unsurprised when it came easily to her tongue. "You've transferred knowledge of your language, written and spoken, into our minds. How did you accomplish this?"
"It is a variant of a basic Force technique. The technique requires a living proficient of the language and the forceful removal of the knowledge. This unit's former existence as a living being allows for a more gentle transfer."
Mala glanced back at Dira, who was now reading through the one of the volumes as she scanned it. Mala looked back to the computer.
"Tell me of the Sithras."
Author: elinatrevisan
Artist: Anna (art currently incomplete)
Beta: gravaja_umbros
Canon: Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic
Ratings: T
Warnings: Non-graphic violence and character death
Summary: The war with the Mandalorians is raging across the galaxy. Mala Noor, also known as Revan, has led the Republic in countless victories. Her leadership is put to the test, however, when she discovers an ancient threat that could destroy the galaxy. With only her oldest friends to aid her, she must embark in a search for the truth before all that she has worked to protect is lost.
Author's note: The title of this fic was taken from the song by 30 Seconds to Mars. You don't need to listen to that in order to understand this, but it does help set the tone, I think.
Chapter 1: The Archive Unit
"How many Mandalorians are in here?" Mala asked, looking around at the entrance to the cave-like structure. From the outside, she had assumed it to be a natural construction; caves were common in this area. As soon as she entered, however, all of those assumptions were dashed. Though there were obviously thousands of years of wear, the entrance hall still looked like a hall. It puzzled her somewhat, as there were no indications that this planet had ever supported any form of sapient life.
"We can't be sure," the young Jedi that was currently serving as her aide said. What was his name? Rath?
"Can we get an estimate, Commander Rath?"
"Somewhere between ten and twenty. Wouldn't it be better to simply seal off these caves, rather than chasing them down?"
"We have no way of knowing how many exits there might be. One of Cassus Fett's top lieutenants is in here, and I don't want him escaping. Also, I'd rather not turn this whole zone into a radioactive crater. That feels a bit excessive, even to me." She smirked at him, though she knew he couldn't see the gesture beneath her mask. The vocal modulator in her mask conveyed her tone, however, even as it changed it to a masculine tenor.
One of the techs approached them, and she turned her attention to him. "It's no good, general. Whatever these walls are lined with is blocking our signals."
"Well, at least that probably means that the Mandalorians can't call for reinforcements." The thought of stumbling in there blind was not appealing to her. "Rath, gather all of the Jedi to me. If the techs can't get us a layout, it's up to us."
The young Knight bowed. "Yes, master."
Within minutes, all of the Jedi had were kneeling in a circle and were attempting to use the Force to discern the maze of passages. The rock that blocked off the tech's signals apparently had the same effect on their senses, and Mala wondered if she could take a sample to study. Something like this could prove very useful.
Despite the interference of the stone, they soon had a basic layout of the ruined structure, as well as the location that the Mandalorians had retreated to. As Mala stood, one of the Jedi spoke up.
"Master," he said, "I don't like this place."
Another Jedi nodded. "I agree, master. There's a strong Dark Side presence here."
"I noticed," Revan agreed. "But we have all felt the presence of the Dark Side before, and none of us have succumbed. We'll be fine. No matter what the Jedi council may think of us." A few of the Jedi smiled at this. "Now, shall we take care of a few Mandalorians?"
As they progressed through the caves, they found that the map they had constructed from their Force excursion was incomplete. Numerous passages that branched off of their route were unmapped, and Mala resisted the urge to go down and explore them. She'd never seen ruins like these, with their high, curved arches and snaking carvings. She would have to send an excavation team through them after they had cleared the Mandalorians.
All of the Jedi froze as they approached one of these unmapped corridors. Mala turned and stared at it. She could almost see the dark energy pouring out of it.
One of the squad commanders turned to her. "Is something wrong, sir?"
"Master," Rath muttered.
"I sense it." She glanced around at the Jedi with her. She suddenly wished that one of her regular circle of advisors could be with her. Her old master, in particular, would be very comforting. Unfortunately, Dira had been requested aboard the Ordinance. Mala's childhood friend, Halae, was commanding her for now. Alek (or Malak, as he called himself ever since getting those ridiculous head tattoos) had returned to Coruscant to testify in the trial of the Mandalorian scientist, Demagol. Any of those three would know what to say.
She was about to tell everyone to move on, when she felt a sudden prompting to go down the corridor. Dira had taught her to always follow the will of the Force, no matter where it led.
"Rath," she said. "With me. Everyone else, continue on."
"Master?" Rath asked.
"Follow your orders. There's something down here, and I'd rather not have it behind us."
"Yes, master."
Mala nodded to the squad leaders, and the rest of the group continued on. As they progressed down the corridor, the Dark Side presence grew stronger. She had, in her time in the archives on Dantooine and in various ancient ruins and battlefields, sensed the presence of the Dark Side a number of times. This was nothing like that. The dark energy plucked at her mind, bringing images of death and destruction to her recollection. There was something down that corridor, something dangerous.
Rath suddenly doubled over, leaning against a wall, and began to retch. Mala waited until his spasms subsided, then stepped up beside him. "Are you going to be able to continue?"
He hesitated for a moment before answering, which provided all of the answer that she needed. "I shall be fine in a moment, master."
She shook her head. "If you can't focus, you're no good to me. Go back and rendezvous with the rest of the group. If you receive no word from me in a half hour, attempt to raise me on the comm, but don't follow." She hesitated. This place was probably the first known ruins of a previously unknown civilization. To damage them would be a terrible crime to her archivist's soul. "If you can't raise me, finish the mission and get out of here. Then seal off the caves and bomb it from orbit."
"Are you sure?"
"Do you want whatever is in here to get out?"
"No, master."
"Good. Then do as you're told. I'll deal with this, and then I'll see if I can rejoin you."
"Yes, master. Just... promise that you won't take any unnecessary risks."
She smiled. "Of course."
He nodded and turned around, leaning on the wall for support as he walked. Mala continued on. The corridor branched in several places, but it was always easy to know which way to go. The Dark Side led her on.
She finally entered a large room. The ceilings of this room were far taller than the halls had been, and it bore claw-like spires along the side walls. The far wall had two sets of shelves on either side of a large console with a red crystal. Light fixtures on the ceiling were directed at the crystal.
She stepped up to the shelves and looked at the tomes that were lined there. They were books of metal plates, bound together by rings. The years had degraded the metal somewhat, but not much. She picked one up and looked inside, studying the curling script written within. She had never seen it before, and decided to send Dira some scans when she got back to the Swiftsure. She placed as many of the volumes as she could into her bag, then moved to study the console.
The crystal seemed to be the main control mechanism, though she had no idea how it could work. It also felt like the center of the Dark Side energy in this place. Should she destroy it? That might put an end to the threat. Then again, it might be containing something that would then be released. She wished she had more time to study the console.
She stepped in front of the crystal. "Well," she muttered. "Vrook always said I was impetuous." She placed her hands on the crystal.
The lights shot on, and Mala could feel the Dark Side energy contract around her. She was unable to breathe for a moment, as the energy squeezed her lungs. The feeling dissipated as the lights brightened to blinding levels. She shut her eyes, but the light burned at her through her lids. This only lasted for a second, however, as the lights dimmed again. There was a semi-transparent figure now standing above the console. Its skin was red-tanned, its figure thin, its hair fair and flaxen. It stared down at her with dark eyes.
It opened its mouth and a soft, hissing language began to pour out. Mala was used to relying on the Force to understand languages that she had never faced before, though it never before had worked on computers. Now, however, she could feel the intent of the words as if it was a real person. That explained why the computer still worked after thousands of years: it was a Force projection, much like a holocron.
"This archive unit has not been activated for 2,393 solar revolution cycles," it said. "And you are not Sithras. Your life-form is similar to the Zhell of Notron, but there are genetic differences. State your query."
She recognized Zhell and Notron as referring to the early humans on Coruscant, but she had never heard of the Sithras before.
Mala stepped back from the console to better view the figure. If it was Force-based, would it understand her? There was only one way to find out. "I am General Revan, commander of the Jedi Expeditionary Task Force. What is the purpose of this unit?"
The figure spoke. "This unit is unable to process your speech. Technological interference is detected. This problem will be corrected."
Mala jerked back as a hot pain seared her throat, and she heard an electric spark from within her mask. She pulled it off and saw that the voice modulator had been scorched into a twisted lump of metal. She raised one hand to the burn that it had left and healed it as best she could. The Dark Side presence made it difficult, but she was able to ease the pain, and she doubted it would scar. She stared at the figure. What kind of computer used Force projections and had the ability to do something like that? She swallowed deeply and repeated her introduction, now in her natural voice.
"Greetings, Revan. This is an archive unit, left behind by the Order of Darth to aid any remaining Sithras that did not receive retreat coordinates. This unit also serves to aid any lesser life-forms in improvement, allowing them to gain knowledge of Sithras culture and history and learn from it. If you wish to learn of this culture, you may make inquiries."
Mala's childhood, spent for so long in the archives of the Jedi enclave on Dantooine, had taught her nothing of these Sithras, whoever they were. She would love nothing more than to spend hours learning from this computer, but she knew that she didn't have the time. Rath had most likely reached the rest of their group by now, and her clock was ticking.
"I'm afraid I don't have the time to learn as much as I would like. You said that this unit was left by the Sithras. Who are they?"
"The Sithras, as a discrete group, first emerged after the war of-"
"Could you be more brief? I don't have time for a full history lesson."
"The Sithras are a sub-race of the larger Sith population." Mala's blood ran cold. "They are characterized by their browner skin, fair hair, dark eyes, and height. They were created through centuries of crossbreeding with a very specific group of Zhell, as well as various slave races."
"Did you say Sith?"
"Yes. Is your hearing damaged in some form?"
"No," she said faintly. Her mind was racing. She knew that the Sith had once been a race, of course. She also knew that they had bred with humans, but she had never heard of these Sithras. "You said that the Sith were retreating. Retreating from what?
"Cultural corruption."
She waited a moment, hoping that the unit would elaborate, but it did not. "I'm afraid that you'll need to be more specific."
"The Sithras are a proud race which held to the old ideals of power and change. The Sithras way of life was under threat from a growing movement of new ideology which discouraged the challenging of power, instead encouraging individuals to remain withing their caste and accept their position. Rather than face this movement in a frontal attack, the Sithras chose to retreat to the ends of the known galaxy to gain strength until they could attack more securely."
"Explain more of this Sithras ideology."
"The Sithras believe in power through change. While stability has its advantages, it also leads to stagnation. Without allowing the strong to rise up and challenge the current authority, there is no way to ensure that the strong rule. If challengers are allowed to rise and attempt to take power, then a society is strengthened. The weak are killed and eliminated from the gene pool, and the strong are able to lead."
"That sounds like anarchy."
"It is the duty of those in power to control those under their reign. Leaders are interchangeable, and one is capable of taking over directly from another. Thus, order is retained."
"I suppose it's a good thing the Sith were wiped out," Mala muttered to herself.
"You are incorrect."
Mala's brow furrowed. "What?"
"The Sithras remain."
"No. No, that's not possible. The last of the Sith were wiped out in a war."
"This unit received communications from the Order of Darth only fifteen planetary revolutions ago. The probability of the entire Sithras population, a group of approximately three billion, being killed in a war in that period of time is incredibly small."
"Surely there's a delay between a message being sent and received."
"You are assuming that Sithras communications are signal-based, which would take time to travel the light years in distance. Sithras communications are Force-based, allowing a message to be sent and received at the same moment. There is no time delay."
All of Mala's ill feelings began to make sense to her now. "Are you saying that there are a group of ancient Sith sitting somewhere in the Unknown Regions, capable of instant communication with our part of the galaxy?"
"If you choose to identify the Sithras people under the general term of 'Sith', then yes."
This was a disaster. She had to warn the senate, the Jedi, everyone. But she had to know more. "What... what are you? How was this terminal created? How is it still functioning, after all these years? How do you understand my language?"
"This unit is a Force-based intelligence simulation and knowledge repository. Reliance on mechanical or electrical parts which are subject to degradation were kept to a minimum to ensure a long life. This unit also bears the physical appearance and abilities of Hasheth Sithrun Ashtaltha Pisrath, an enemy of the Darth Trishlasa. He was sentenced to computer integration after capture."
"What does that mean, 'computer integration'?"
"His Force essence was harnessed and placed within the control crystal of this unit."
"So he was killed?"
"No. In death, one's Force essence is freed. While Hasheth Sithrun Ashtaltha Pisrath's body was destroyed, his essence is still bound within this computer."
Mala swallowed deeply. She'd read theoretical discussions that mentioned the trapping of a being's life energy within a computer, and she had long suspected that it was possible. It was an entirely different matter to be faced with the enslaved soul of a dead man. "What did this man do to deserve this punishment?"
"He angered the Darth Trishlasa, as this unit has already stated. Is there a problem with your short-term memory?"
"I was wondering what he did to anger this Trishlasa person."
"This unit does not know. Do you have further inquiries?"
"Yes, of course." She took a moment to order her thoughts, only to be interrupted by the buzzing of her comm.
"General Revan," the orange squad leader's voice issued from the device.
"What?" she snapped. She took a deep breath and spoke again, more calmly. "I mean, Revan here. What is it?"
"Is that you, General?" Her brows furrowed. The signal was degraded by the stone's unique properties, but her voice must surely have still been recognizable.
"Yes, of course it is."
"It's just... you sound like a woman. Sir."
Mala looked at the mask in her hand. She'd forgotten about that. "Ah. My mask's voice projector is malfunctioning. It's altering my voice. Is this the half-hour check-in?"
"Y-yes, sir. This is very disconcerting, sir."
Mala rolled her eyes. "Focus, Commander."
"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. We're close to the Mandalorians, but they retreated farther into the caves. Do you want us to continue to pursue?"
Mala glanced at the Force projection, which stood serenely above the console, awaiting her instructions. "No. I want you to withdraw."
"Sir?"
"You heard me. Withdraw from the caves and bring in a demolition team. One hour from your exit, I want you to seal this place off, whether I'm out or not. If I'm not out, I then want you to withdraw from the planet and turn this zone to glass."
Her words were greeted with silence.
"Do you copy, commander?"
"Yes, sir," he said. "But... do you require assistance in there? I could send one of the other Jedi-"
"No!" The last thing she wanted was to show this to Rath or one of the other Jedi in their group. "Just listen to your damn orders! Revan out!"
She cut the comm channel and returned her attention to the projection. She had a definite time limit now. "Alright, we need to be quick. What was this recent communication from your Order of Darth about? Why do they need to be contacting you?"
"That question involves current Sithras military activities, and security clearance must first be obtained. Do you wish to apply for clearance?"
"No. You said that the Sithras retreated into the Unknown Regions. What are their exact coordinates?"
"That question involves current Sithras military activities, and security clearance must first be obtained. Do you wish to apply for clearance?"
"No, damn it!" She slammed her fist into the console. She took another deep breath, keeping her gaze focused downwards. The Dark Side energy in this place was getting to her. She had to remain calm. "Alright. How does one obtain security clearance?"
"A mental probe is performed on the applicant. If their mental defenses are of sufficient strength to defend against an interrogation and they are found to have a psyche in line with Sithras doctrine, then security clearance is granted. The process takes an average of thirty seconds, and is nearly painless unless the check is failed."
She glanced back up. "And what happens then?"
"In most cases, death. If the subject is sufficiently skilled in defensive Force abilities, it is only painful and temporarily debilitating."
Mala weighed the risks in her mind. She had no idea what these Sith would consider to be debilitating, but she doubted she would like it. Also, the phrase "nearly painless" gave her pause. Would her mind be strong enough? She was fairly good at throwing up a mental shield, but was it enough? And if she didn't do this, what would happen?
"Alright. Do it."
"Stand still while the check is made."
There wasn't even the slightest pause before the attack began on her mind. She was already slightly weakened by the Dark Side presence in the room, but she managed to stand strong against the initial assault. She doubted that she would be found to be in line with Sithras doctrine, so she couldn't let her shield fail.
She was so focused on defending against the brute force attack on her psyche that she almost didn't notice a softer, gentler infiltration behind it. She hurriedly tried to block it off, but it was too late. Her whole body erupted in pain, and she doubled over.
"You have failed the security check. Your mind is both weak and in direct opposition to the ideals of the Sithras people. You are to be punished. If you are strong enough, you shall not die. This unit encourages you to do so, however, as it would free resources for-"
She heard no more as everything went dark.
When she awoke, she had no idea how much time had passed. She stood slowly, her knees shaking. Whatever the archive unit had done to her, it left her completely drained. She raised her arm to check her chrono. Her eyes widened, and she swept up her mask. Mala began to run, her legs slipping from beneath her at first before she finally regained complete control.
She attempted to raise her troops on the comm, but found that it was fried. Her men had probably been trying to raise her for the past ten minutes, at least.
She felt the first explosion as she turned into the final corridor. It seemed that the demolition team had decided to bring down rocks from higher up on the cliff face to seal the entrance. She felt deep within her, hoping desperately to find some reserves of power that could allow her to rush out before the boulders.
She was in the entrance hall now, and she could see the first rocks beginning to fall. The rumbling ground and the sound of the explosives brought her thoughts back to the Mandalorians and the slaughter at Cathar. If she died in here, she wouldn't be able to fight them anymore. The thought filled her with rage, and a new wellspring of strength flowed into her. She channeled her power into her legs and forced herself to run faster than any normal human could. She leapt onto the rocks at the entrance of the cave, propelling herself off of them and clearing the area. A few stray boulders threatened to crush her as she flew through the air, but she batted them away with the Force. She hit the ground running.
As soon as she was out of danger, she allowed herself to slow, then collapsed. The rage left her, only to be replaced with horror. Had that been the Dark Side? Her strength certainly hadn't come from serenity. She felt dirty.
She heard approaching footsteps and put her mask back on. She could show neither her face nor her emotions to these people.
"Master!"
She looked up and saw Rath running towards her. She didn't know how, but she managed to stand as he approached. He reached out an arm to help her, and she considered pushing it away. Then her knees buckled, and she grudgingly accepted his assistance.
"We did as you ordered, Master. The cave is sealed. What are your orders?"
She attempted to speak, but her mouth was dry and clogged with dust from the falling rocks. She cleared her throat. "Remove all of our troops from the planet. I don't want a single soul left here. Then slag it."
"Are you certain, Master Revan? These plains could serve as a great staging area for-."
"Don't question orders!" she snapped. She immediately felt the disturbing power begin to rise within her again, and she pushed away her irritation. "There is something here which must never be seen again. I don't know how large those ruins are, so take out the entire zone. Also, I want a message sent to the Ordinance requesting that Master Dira be sent to me at once. I need her expertise."
"At once, master. Is there anything else you wish?"
"I want orders to be sent out amongst everyone here that this place and the events that have transpired here are classified. No one is to discuss even the existence of those caves. Understood?"
"Yes, Master. I'll take care of it. Are you alright? Do you want to see a medic?"
She took a moment to inventory her body. As far as she knew, there was no physical damage done besides the small burn on her throat. "No. I simply need to rest."
"Yes, Master."
Chapter 2: Korriban
Mala's eyes opened sluggishly. She took a moment to attempt to recall her dreams, and they came to her mind all too quickly. There had been dark-robed forms carrying red lightsabers. She was forced to watch on in horror as they killed her friends. Malak had fallen in the burning and crumbling ruins of Mala's old room on Dantooine. His enemy was a short, slight shape wielding two blades. Dira managed to put up a better fight, wielding multiple weapons with the power of her mind before finally being cut down by a tall figure. Her location was less clear, thought it was some dark place strewn with the wreckage of hundreds of Republic ships. Even Kavar had been shot through by lightning from an old, withered hand that was only barely visible through a thick fog. In the end, only Halae stood beside her against the dark forms.
She breathed deeply, attempting to calm her racing heart. It was probably just a dream. She wasn't surprised that at the nightmare, considering all that had happened the day before. There was no real reason to believe it to be a premonition. If she repeated that enough, she might just start to believe it.
Her lights shot on, and she leapt to stand on the bed. Her sabers were in her hands and ignited before her eyes could adjust to the sudden light.
"Your reflexes are slipping."
She blinked until she could see properly. Her eyes were drawn to the brown-robed figure that had spoken, and she sighed. Even without seeing the old woman, she would know that voice anywhere. The sight of the gray hair pulled into a severe bun and those deep brown eyes would always be reassuring to Mala. She switched off the weapons and allowed them to fall to her bed. "Master Dira. What are you doing here so soon? I thought Halae was still at Lantillies."
"She is. I came as soon as I heard you'd sent for me. She knew you were in distress several hours before the message reached us, however. You know how she is."
Mala nodded and climbed off the bed. She moved to her mirror and worked on pulling her hair back into a bun. "How did you get here so soon?"
"I didn't. You've been asleep for over 48 hours."
"Oh."
Dira took a seat in the chair at the desk. "That poor aide of yours was in a panic when I arrived. He was afraid that you'd died in here, and was nearly ready to enter to retrieve your corpse. I was able to talk him down."
"Thank you, Master." She finished taming her hair (as much as she ever could) and studied her burn in the mirror. She was pleased to see that it had disappeared almost entirely. No physical signs remained of her encounter on the planet. She opened her closet and began to dress.
"So do you intend upon explaining to me why you called me here? I imagine it has something to do with the reason why you slept for days."
Mala paused, her shirt halfway off. "I guess I should. To be honest, I'm not sure where to begin."
"I find that chronological order is generally the simplest."
"Right." And so, she started at the beginning: the Mandalorians' retreat into the strange ruins, her discovery of the ancient computer, and then all that she learned from it. She explained the failed security check, and considered leaving out the details of her escape. She looked once into Dira's eyes, and knew that she couldn't. The woman knew her far too well for that to pass. She explained the rage and desire for vengeance that had powered her escape. She closed her eyes and waited for the chastisement that was sure to follow.
"I see."
Mala continued to wait, but nothing more came. She hadn't expected rage; that wasn't Dira's style. It was far more likely that her tone would remain neutral, her volume low, but that the words she spoke would leave Mala feeling incredibly small. That woman could cut with words far better than anyone else Mala knew. After another moment of silence, she finally looked up. Dira's face was shadowed, pensive. Mala finally spoke, unable to stand the silence. "Aren't you going to say something?"
"What do you want me to say? That you shouldn't have done what you did? I won't."
"But... the Dark Side. It's evil."
Dira laughed, and her face cleared. "My dear girl, I am far too old and have spent far too long studying ancient histories to believe it to be as simple as that."
Mala knew that her old master had theories about the Dark Side which differed from the other masters, but this seemed far more than that. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that history can teach many things about Dark and Light. Your statement is understandable, but an oversimplification. The Dark Side and evil often go hand in hand, just as the Light Side and good often do, but that isn't all. Have you ever met a Dark Jedi?"
"Not personally, no."
"And have you ever met a bad Jedi?"
Her mind immediately flew to the council, and their inaction. Surely not all of them were bad, necessarily. Kavar and Vandar certainly were good, though with bad judgment on the matter of the Mandalorians. Atris, however... Mala had clashed with her often, and had difficulty describing her as anything else. "Yes," she said.
"Do you begin to see my point?"
"I think I do. But how could the Dark Side be anything but evil?"
"We can see that in your own situation. You called me because you believe this to be an immediate threat, correct?" Mala nodded. "Very well. and if you had been sealed in those ruins? Would you have been able to do anything about this danger?"
"Well, no, but-"
"And was there any other way that you could have escaped those ruins?"
Mala had quite never believed that a person could ever be faced with only one option. "I'm sure there was another way."
"Allow me to rephrase. Did you see any other way that you could have escaped those ruins?"
"Not at the time, no."
"So any alternate course of action would have been rather pointless, since you couldn't think of it. So, even with your rather brief brush with the Dark Side, do you consider yourself to be 'evil'?"
"No. Not really."
"Then the Dark Side has served a good purpose. You remain here to save lives, no worse for the wear, and you have now alerted another to the danger these Sithras pose."
All of Dira's words made perfect logical sense. The problem was that emotions were rarely logical. "It still feels wrong."
"As it should. I believe that to be a natural reaction, designed to help keep us from falling. The Dark Side may not be inherently evil, but if we rely on it completely, I believe that it atrophies our own natural abilities. Those feelings exist to keep us from using it as a crutch. Now, if your conscience has been assuaged, shall we focus on the imminent Sith threat? Where are these metal plates of yours? Perhaps we can translate them."
Mala retrieved the volumes from the locked drawer where they had been secured and Dira took a small stack to the desk. They began to work. Dira's previous experience as an archivist was quite useful, but they made little progress. After almost four hours of frustration, Mala's stomach growled loudly.
Dira glanced up at her. "When did you last eat?"
"Um... Right before we landed on the planet, I think."
"That was three full days ago. Have you had anything to drink?"
"Yes. During the battle."
Dira sighed and shook her head, while Mala felt slightly embarrassed. This was hardly the first time that this had happened. Normally whoever served as her aide saw to it that she received regular meals, but she had told Rath not to enter her quarters unless she called for him.
"In my defense," Mala said, "I was asleep for two of those days."
"Yes," Dira said, her voice dripping with dry humor. "I suppose I shall have to be the adult here and fetch us some food from the mess hall. I trust that you won't forget to breathe, too, while I am away?"
"I think I'll manage."
"Very well." Dira stood and left the room. Mala took up the now-vacant seat at the desk and began to work.
The script used in these records was unfamiliar to both of them. Dira had commented that she might have seen something similar, but she didn't know where. The list of possible locations was so immense, they didn't even bother attempting to figure it out.
They were able to identify the basic alphabet, and they could tell what marks were punctuation or other similar notation. It wasn't particularly complicated, as far as they could tell. There were less than forty different characters. Dira had been working on checking the recurrences of them in an attempt to determine their usage. Mala wished that she'd recorded the speech used by the Sithras computer, but the thought hadn't occurred to her at the time.
It looked like Dira had made some progress, as she had been using some of the pictures and graphs to discern meaning from the words around them. Mala knew that her own skills in this area were nothing when compared to those of her old master, but the pictures could tell her something. She turned to a diagram that took up an entire page and began to study it.
It was a large rounded blob, within which there were others. They were placed seemingly at random, though no two intersected and they combined to cover most of the space within the larger section. Each smaller blob held several sets of small ovals within them. She studied one of these sets of concentric shapes and noticed a small bit of script next to a dot along the circle. The writing was too small to read, however. She searched along the other circles and saw several more dots and several more bits of script. She moved to her console and scanned the page in so that she could zoom in.
With the larger computer image, she was able to see that there were several of those dots with writing beside them. Each one seemed to be made up of three separate words or phrases. One of those phrases was the same between all of them, while the second phrase bore the same first few characters. The third phrase was different between each one. One of the dots had an extra phrase and a strange symbol that Mala hadn't seen elsewhere in any of the documents. She isolated and magnified this mark.
It almost looked like a curly star burst shape. Their entire script seemed to be made up of swirls and hooks, with very few straight lines. For this particular symbol, it was probably not a letter, which could mean it was a pictograph. If she assumed it had been stylized somewhat, what would it look like normally?
She began to edit the image, straightening the lines and removing the curls. It was difficult to tell, but it was probably either a star burst or an arrow pointing at the dot. Possibly some combination of the two.
The Force is a strange thing, and it works through different people in different ways. Mala was prone to visions of the future. Other times, the Force would take a more subtle route. Vague impressions or stray thoughts could be the result of the Force. This was what happened now.
She stared at the image, and three words came to her mind.
"You are here," she muttered softly. She switched to the image of the whole page and looked at it again. "A galaxy map!" She brought up a current galaxy map and overlaid the image. It needed to be twisted, as apparently the Sithras had a different idea of galactic north. There were some discrepancies, and it only showed a small portion of the galaxy, but it was unmistakeable. She assumed the differences to be due to stellar drift, and she set the computer to analyze it and use that to determine the age of the map.
3,000 years. Her eyes widened. These were some of the earliest Sith documents ever discovered. There was no way to be entirely certain, but the computer was probably accurate up to at least a century. That placed it some time during the Hundred-Year Darkness, before the Jedi Exiles met with the Sith race.
The door opened and Dira entered with a full tray of food. "I ran into your little aide out in the hall. He was apparently still under the impression that you'd passed away in here, and that I was simply sitting with your corpse, or something like that. I assured him you were well, and sent him on his way."
"Master!" Mala completely ignored everything that had just been said. She ran over to her master and pointed at the screen. "I've found something!"
"Any progress is welcome."
"This page is a galaxy map, with several planets marked. This one is marked differently than the others. It's the planet where I found the Sithras ruins."
Dira set down the tray and studied the screen. Her eyes widened a fraction. "Oh, my. Do you know what planet this is?" She pointed at one of the marked planets.
Mala's brow furrowed. The planet wasn't marked on the current galaxy map. She shook her head.
Dira smiled. "I can now recall where I've seen writings like this before. It was a rubbing of wall carvings on Korriban." Dira tapped the screen.
Mala stared at the planet. "That... is Korriban?"
Dira nodded. "I'm not surprised it isn't marked on your map. Travel there is... discouraged."
"Were you able to translate those wall carvings?"
"To an extent. It was a slightly different script than this, but it could be useful."
"I don't suppose you remember anything about the language?"
"I've translated a great many ancient languages. This was a single translation from decades ago, which I have never looked at since. No, I do not."
"Is there any way we can get access to your previous translations?"
"Short of breaking into the Jedi archives on Dantooine? No."
Mala groaned. "Alright. Well, what about repeating your work? How did you translate it before?"
"Don't give up hope just yet. This map details the region generally understood to be Sith space during the period of this map, but it clearly isn't a map of Sith planets. Ziost, for example, isn't marked, while other planets are. What if this is a map of Sithras worlds?"
Mala looked over the map. "I suppose it would make sense. What are the odds of finding ruins on one of these other planets?"
Dira once again pointed to Korriban. "Korriban is largely unexplored by the Republic. The climate can be harsh, but only if one hopes to live there. Structures are generally well-preserved. And besides that, these Sith ruins have a tendency of remaining hidden until they want to be found. I suspect that if one set has been found, the others may present themselves to us as well."
"Alright," Mala said. "So we need to go to Korriban. But I can't leave the fleet. Not only could it be dangerous to the war effort, it would raise too many questions if I were to leave."
"Perhaps you should invest in a body double."
"That solves one problem, but not the other. I need to remain in contact with the fleet."
"I don't know how to tell you this, but I doubt that your absence for a month will result in our losing the war."
Mala smirked. "Perhaps. I am, however, an intractable control freak." She turned her eyes back to the galaxy map. "No, I need to send a part of the fleet there." She began to pace the room. "Korriban is in a tactically difficult place. It's deep enough into Mandalorian territory that getting there could be difficult, but it's not so deep that it's impossible. It's also not a particularly useful staging area, so our trip there will need some sort of justification. I'll need time to think on this."
"I take it that you don't wish to go public with the real reason for your mission?"
"Of course not. If I go public without any concrete proof of the danger, I'll just sound like a lunatic. No, this will be a secret."
"Perhaps you should consult Halae, then. She is nearly as good a tactician as you; I'm sure she could aid you in finding a justification to go to Korriban."
Mala thought to her lifelong friend, the woman who served now as her tactical advisor. She thought of explaining the method used to escape the collapsing ruins, and her blood ran cold. "No," she said. "No, I can't tell Halae this. Not yet. Only you and I are to know." Dira understood her need for the Dark Side in those moments. Halae wouldn't. She brought up her tactical map on the computer, with the latest movements of both fleets. "Just give me a few hours, and I'll have what I need."
"Very well. Just do me one favor."
"What?" Mala said, flicking through intelligence reports, her mind already filled with plans and troop movements.
"Eat something."
- - - - -
Mala found her reason before long. While Korriban itself remained untouched by the Mandalorians, there was a supply convoy that passed through that system. She'd known about the convoy for weeks, but hadn't deemed it important enough to shut down. Still, it was a major enough supply route that no one would question her sending a few ships to the system. What people did question, however, was Revan's presence on one of these ships. None of them spoke directly to her, thankfully, and she ignored the murmurs.
Dira took over her regular position as aide and advisor, and they took quarters aboard the lead interdictor. Even during her days on the planet, she would be able to maintain contact with the ship and, through it, the fleet. With any luck, no one would even notice she was gone.
After overseeing their arrival in system and the setup of their blockade, she changed into a set of nondescript brown robes. She didn't often wear them and appear publicly under her true identity. It was refreshing to hear people refer to her with the proper pronouns on occasion.
She looked up as her door swished open and Dira entered. "I've requisitioned the shuttle," her old master said. "This hall should be clear for several minutes, so no one will see you leaving these quarters."
"Thank you," Mala said, taking up her lightsabers and the datapad that contained all of their translation notes. "The next supply convoy isn't predicted to come through here for another week, so we should have until then."
They stepped out of Mala's quarters and headed towards the shuttle bay. The two of them drew a few stares, but it was nothing like Mala received while wearing her mask and armor. She was treated as just another Jedi. She took a deep breath and sighed contentedly.
Dira glanced at her. "Why do you wear the mask?" Her voice was low enough that no one who passed by could hear them.
"You know why. I swore not to remove it until the Mandalorians have been defeated."
"And yet you aren't wearing it now."
"It's a morale-boosting gesture. So long as the public never sees me without it, it serves its purpose. It makes me a symbol. People don't follow individuals the way that they follow symbols."
"You don't need a mask to be a symbol."
"No, but I need one if I want to be anything other than a short Jedi woman with bad hair." She turned her head to face Dira and smirked. "I have no illusions as to my appearance. I'm not intimidating. I'm not inspiring. The mask is." Her eyes turned forward again. "And besides, I can wear platform shoes and shoulder pads with the mask. It's amazing how much more respect you get when you're taller than the average twelve-year old."
Dira sighed and shook her head. "Anyone can be intimidating and inspiring. Even you. I have seen it."
"You know me. You know that I'm fully capable of acting on my threats. Most don't." They stopped in front of the shuttle bay and Dira swiped a pass card. Mala tried to use her own as little as possible. The less of an imprint that Mala left, the better.
They approached the sergeant that was in charge of the shuttles, and Dira took charge. "General Dira Rimora and Commander Mala Noor, to take shuttle PJ-03 on a reconnaissance mission."
The sergeant looked up at them. "Ah, yes. Revan's orders, right?"
"That is correct."
He pulled out a datapad. "Kinda strange, don't you think? Sending two Jedi on a recon mission?"
"Are you questioning Revan's orders?" Dira narrowed her eyes.
"No!" He quickly finished the appropriate paperwork. "Of course not! Never!" Mala smirked. The man passed the datapad to Dira. "Here you are, Master Jedi. Best of luck."
"Thank you, sergeant."
As Mala strapped herself into the pilot's seat, she turned to Dira, grinning widely. "See? The mask works."
Dira rolled her eyes.
- - - - -
They decided to start their search at the ruins where Dira had seen a similar alphabet. With any luck, they could simply use those as a basis for the Sithras language. The ruins weren't difficult to find, and they set camp. The alphabets were definitely related, but using the known language as a basis produced nothing but gibberish.
When Dira ordered a break for a meal, Mala reluctantly set down her datapad and moved to the small pile of field rations that they'd brought along. She sighed and tore open the wrapper on a bar. "I don't think we're getting anywhere," she muttered before taking a bite of the tasteless hunk of vitamins.
"Give it time. You can't expect to learn an entire language in a single day."
"I don't think time will help. I think we're looking at more than an older dialect."
"What do you mean?"
"Surely you've noticed it, too. The structure of the language is completely different. This is practically a different language with a similar alphabet."
Dira chewed slowly, her eyes distant. "You may be right. What gave you this impression, though?"
"Just a feeling."
"Trust your feelings. The Force acts through you unlike any other Jedi I have seen."
"So what do we do?"
"First, we should eat. Then we can begin to search for Sithras ruins."
Mala nodded. A part of her feared those ruins, but her fear of the Sithras' plans was far greater.
They packed up their camp and climbed into the shuttle. Mala sat in the pilot's seat, her hands resting on the controls.
"So," she said. "Where to?"
"Don't ask me. You are the one who seems to be guided to these ruins."
"I don't know where to go. You know more about the various sites on Korriban. Any ideas?"
"None whatsoever. As I said, the Jedi haven't explored much here."
"Great." Mala sighed. "Well, I really hope the Force takes over." She started up the shuttle and lifted off. "North sounds good. We'll try that."
Mala flew reasonably slow. Korriban was covered in ruins, and she didn't want to miss seeing any. And they didn't. They flew for hours, and every time they passed over a ruined structure or cave opening, Dira would point it out and Mala would dismiss it. The architecture style was never quite right. Besides that, none of them felt right. After a few hours, a craggy mountain range rose up in front of them.
"Those look harsh," Dira said. "I can't imagine any settlements in there."
Mala's brow furrowed. "Don't make assumptions. The Sithras said they broke off from the main group of Sith, right? It would make sense that any settlements on Korriban would need to be hidden from them. Where better than an inhospitable and inaccessible mountain range?"
"You have a point."
"I'm going in."
"It'll be difficult to see anything in there."
"Good thing we have the Force on our side, isn't it?" Mala smirked and dove the ship down into a narrow valley. It twisted and turned, and Mala moved with it. She knew that they needed to be taking their time and searching carefully, but she couldn't resist the urge to up the speed. She loved to watch the walls and rocks pass by in a blur. She glanced out the corner of her eye to see Dira's hands in a white-knuckled grip on the edge of her seat. "What, don't you trust my skills?"
"Of course." Mala swung down underneath a rocky outgrowth with no more than a meter of space on all sides. Dira's eyes closed. "If I didn't, then I wouldn't let you pilot. However, fear is a natural reaction to anything the subconscious perceives as dangerous stimuli."
Mala turned the shuttle on its side to pass through the narrow valley between two cliffs, and all of the unsecured supplies flew to the far wall. A shyrack flew at them, and she dropped altitude to avoid it. The supplies bounced along the wall. Dira placed one hand over her mouth and opened her eyes again. She was looking rather pale. Mala hoped she wouldn't vomit in here. Especially since gravity would cause the vomit to fall on her, rather than into Dira's own lap. "I find it interesting that you're capable of using words like 'subconscious' and 'stimuli' when you're about to piss yourself. You really have control over your emotions, don't you?"
Dira's words were muffled under her hand. "I try."
The shuttle righted itself as the valley widened, then all of the supplies went flying forward when Mala brought the shuttle to an abrupt stop. Mala's bag, which had been carelessly thrown into the back, slammed into Dira's head.
"Ow!" Dira raised one hand to rub the spot. "Be glad that we're both competent healers! You may have given me a concussion!"
Mala didn't respond; she could only stare at the mountain before them. It took Dira a moment before she turned to look. A large opening was carved into the rock, and two large claw-like arms formed an arch around the entrance.
"Is that it?" Dira asked.
Mala nodded, her face blank of emotion. "It's in better shape than I expected. It looks practically untouched."
"The mountains probably shielded it somewhat from the elements. Well, it looks like there's room to land here."
"Yeah." Mala dropped the ship down and they began to unload. She felt uneasy here, which was just another sign that they were in the right place.
They set up their camp in the entrance hall, where they could easily escape to the shuttle if necessary. Once that was done, they set out to explore the ruins. They were smaller than Mala expected. It wasn't a full hidden city, but appeared to be a small military outpost.
They ran across a computer terminal near the center of the complex, but left it alone until they'd finished mapping out the entire layout and sent it up to Mala's computer on the ship. Before leaving her quarters, she had placed all of their information on the Sithras into a single file and made a program that would transfer it to Malak and Halae if they didn't return from the planet within two weeks. That way, even if something should happen to the two of them, someone would still know about the danger the Sithras posed.
After Mala finished the transfer, they returned to the computer room. This one, like the other, had a number of metal tomes on the shelves, and Dira immediately set to work scanning them.
Mala stepped up to the control crystal. "I'm going to activate it now, Master Dira."
The old woman looked up at this announcement, but said nothing. Mala hated it when she did that.
She placed her hands on the crystal. The activation of the computer wasn't as frightening as it had been before, now that she was expecting it. It was just as uncomfortable, however. This projection looked different from the previous one. It was obviously of the same species, though this one appeared to be a female. Her skin was a deeper red, and her face was narrower and more angular.
"This archive unit has been inactive for 892 solar revolution cycles," it said. "You match no known lifeforms. State your query."
This one seemed more terse than the previous unit. Was that some sort of leftover from the person who had been put into the computer? "I am General Revan, commander of the Jedi Expeditionary Task Force. This woman with me is Captain Dira Rimora, one of my former masters."
"State your query."
"This unit is not the only Sithras computer I have encountered. At the previous unit, I was unable to learn much of your culture before I was... forced to leave. My master and I have been studying the tomes that we received at that location, but we have been unable to decipher your language. We wish to learn to read and understand it, that we may study your writings."
"Very well. Stand by."
Mala wondered if it was preparing to boot a tutoring program when she suddenly felt something in her mind, and she threw up her defenses. Had the other unit communicated her failure of the security check, and now this one was attempting to finish the job? That theory was dashed as the computer easily slipped through her barriers, and she felt no pain. She heard Dira gasp behind her.
"Transfer complete."
This time when the computer spoke, she understood the words themselves, rather than simply the meaning behind them. She looked to one of the carvings on the wall and read the words running across the top. "Cultural Archive Unit, Korriban Division."
When Mala spoke, she attempted to do so in the Sithras language. She was somehow unsurprised when it came easily to her tongue. "You've transferred knowledge of your language, written and spoken, into our minds. How did you accomplish this?"
"It is a variant of a basic Force technique. The technique requires a living proficient of the language and the forceful removal of the knowledge. This unit's former existence as a living being allows for a more gentle transfer."
Mala glanced back at Dira, who was now reading through the one of the volumes as she scanned it. Mala looked back to the computer.
"Tell me of the Sithras."