Confrontation on the Bridge

     The last Sith acolyte crumpled to the deck with a metallic thunk, a thin trail of white smoke drifting up from the glowing saber wound on his neck.  Echoes of battle faded, giving way to the deep hum of lightsabers on the bridge of Revan’s flagship.

     Taking a moment to regain her strength and focus on the Force, Bastila closed her eyes and breathed deeply.  The smell of smoke and ozone filled her lungs as she remembered her fallen comrades strewn behind her.  It seemed like only moments ago that her boarding party had boarded through a maintenance shaft on the Interdictor-class cruiser, with orders to assassinate the leader of the Sith invasion.  
     A bold plan indeed, although “desperate” seemed more appropriate.  The Republic was losing the war, and they knew it.  The Sith fleet took the galaxy by surprise, and its sheer magnitude was overwhelming.  It’s leader, Darth Revan, was once a Jedi himself.  Always quiet and withdrawn, he was considered to be somewhat of an outcast by other members of the order.  However, his skill in battle was what had truly set him apart.  His brutality on the front lines of the Mandalorian wars earned him the nickname “Revan the Butcher”, at no delight to the council.  When the Mandalorian leader fell to his blade during the Battle of Malachor V, he returned home a war hero of the Republic.  Mere days later, he and his battalion had disappeared without a trace.  His mysterious fleet emerged from the depths of uncharted space several years later, with one goal: the destruction of the Republic and the Jedi Order.  Darth Revan was the Republic’s savior, and its doom.

And there he stood.

     As still as death, he faced the Jedi Knights.  The ebbing reflection of his lightsaber glistened red from his cruel mask.  His presence sent shivers down Bastila’s spine.  Her battle meditation had allowed their transport to successfully board the ship during the conflict, but it had left her exhausted.  She could feel nothing of his emotions, nothing of his intentions.  Only darkness and silence, like a black void in the Force.  She glanced over both shoulders at her fellow Jedi knights, then stared with determination into Revan’s mask.  
“You cannot win, Revan.”
Her voice was strong despite the fear.

     The sudden swing of the Sith’s lightsaber made Bastila jump.  He quickly spun it around and held it close to himself, pointing it directly toward her.  Still, he said nothing, returning to complete stillness.
     “I have a very bad feeling about this.”, she thought to herself.  She had been expecting him to attack first, which might have been favorable due to her more defense-focused training.  Regardless, she had her orders, and was not about to forsake this opportunity.  Yellow light jutted from the hilt of her saber as she ignited the second blade.  Gripping it like a staff in front of her, she stepped forward.

     Bastila hesitated as a deep rumble sent vibrations through the ship.  Startled but still focused, she kept her gaze centered on Revan, who was still motionless.  Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a distant red glow through the left viewport window.  A bombardment of plasma streaked down like rain onto the ship.  She held her breath and quickly dropped to her knees, placing her hand on the deck.  As the ground began to shake, her two Jedi companions were thrown back violently as if struck by the force.
     She felt herself slipping backwards as a falling sensation rose in her stomach.  Time seemed to slow, and she could feel the entire ship tipping backwards with a deep groan.  Bastila struggled to her feet, but it was too late.  The Dark Lord had already leaned down into a charge, pushing his blade with hateful determination...