With the VICTORY - I break my chains."
Again and again the code of the Sith filled her brain in an endless litany, seemed to fill each single cell of her agonizing body... Each word of the endless litany was accompanied by pain - burning energy which enflamed her nerves, since an endless-seeming time now. Bastila screamed and screamed, her body convulsed, her palms were wet from the blood, because her nails had dug deep into her flesh. Also her mouth was filled with the taste of blood from her bitten tongue and lips. Infinite, futile trials to bash her head to pieces against the capsule had shown her why her neck had been so thoroughly restrained. She didn't know how long this torture was going on, how often meanwhile she had lost her consciousness. Sometime she could gather enough strength to look down to her armpits, where a number of red and blue dots told her, that she had got many injections meanwhile. Maybe medicine to wake her up, maybe something that kept her alive, or simply raised the pain level required to pass out, or maybe acid, burning in her veins to increase the torture even more. It didn't matter at all. There was no way out from this hell, and only her Jedi-techniques had allowed her to separate her mind from the convulsing something that once had been her body, preventing her from losing her mind completely under this agonizing, endless torture...
And still she was alone, no Sith, no Malak had entered the chamber since the start of her torture. Not a second rest from the pain had been granted her to listen to a question, not even the chance to give them an answer to stop the pain that meanwhile had almost become a part of her. Blood run down from her lobes, torn in pieces by those claws that fixed her head at the speakers; Bastila remembered that many times she had tried to kill herself - it was in those moments she realized that Malak wanted more from her than only information - much more. Then she had to realize that he wanted herself, her powers, her force; that he wanted to convert her to a sick parody a Jedi - a Dark Jedi, a Sith, to something she always had only despised.
And she knew that Malak must be seeing a realistic chance to succeed; she couldn’t imagine that this could ever happen, but he wouldn’t waste his time without a rather good chance. She would become a Dark Jedi - or she would die under the torment! As she had realized this in one of the few clear moments during the torture she had tried to kill herself with those claws, but for this they where not long enough, her attempt only brought her another kind of pain. And more desperation, as she realized, that such reaction was not at all surprising to Malak, since he had carefully taken care that she couldn’t end this before he allowed it.
Bastila screamed out in pain and anger, tried to overcome the speakers with her hoarse screams, but indeed there was no one who could listen to he, not even herself. The words of the speakers roared directly in her ears, in her brain, didn’t leave any space for anything else.
"Peace is a lie. There is nothing but - PASSION
With PASSION I get - STRENGTH
With STRENGTH I get - POWER
With POWER I get - the VICTORY
With the VICTORY - I break my chains."
"Rot in hell, Malak!" She spat out, but quickly biting her lips to swallow down more curses. Her mind retreated deep inside, far away from the burning nerves of her body, a tiny island of peace in this hell.
"There is no feeling - there is peace."
Lord Malak watched the convulsing body of the young Jedi carefully on his screen, and almost regretted that he had left this kind of passion far beyond. But he could notice her astonishing beauty, knowing that he could use it as another hook in her flesh, if it was necessary.
He zoomed to the pain distorted face, to the lips, that formed a word, not the Jedi code and no curse, maybe she called out for Revan? If he had been able to Malak would have laughed loudly. Revan - his former master and Sith Lord, and the only one who could become a danger for him. But he had seen the videos from the Leviathan. Revan’s reaction to Bastila's torture there. Malak knew that he hadn’t to waste time searching Revan; he would come to him sooner or later. And this young Jedi here would then be the perfect weapon to defeat him utterly.
The Sith Lord appreciated the special irony that Revan himself was the one who had started to teach Bastila the first lessons in passion - another kind of passion than the one she had to learn now, but the one who started the process to break the chains of the Jedi code, a task that he would now complete. Malak put off the current, but Bastila’s body continued to spasm, even as he also put off the force fields of the shackles, and she slowly glided down along the walls of the capsule. She still twitched and convulsed in the aftermath when he opened the door of the capsule, and she fell down to the ground. Her screams had stopped now, and bloody foam run out of her half open mouth.