when this happened in the game,I was really mad, i wasn't sure if i was mad at the masters, themain character, or Kreia, but this scene really bugged me, i mean i had just spentmost of the game trying to get these masters heads out of the sand and then they go and die. as i was leaving the enclave, the phrase ' the road to hell is paved with good intentions' and thus a fanfic was born.

The exile stared in shocked silence at the bodies of the three Jedi masters; here, at her feet,lay proof the last Jedi in the universe were dead. Even now she doubted she had ever deserved the title of Jedi. Let alone the connection to the force once denied to her. She had tried so very hard to forget Malachor 5, what it had done to her, and in her forgetting she had committed the very same error she had made so many years ago. She sought to become Jedi.

They say that a Jedi's life is sacrifice, but if that were true, if she were a real Jedi, why was she not dead? Should she not have sacrificed herself to save the many that followed her? Why was it that others sacrificed themselves in her name; repeatedly and without question, marching willingly to die for the legacy of blood that had become her name?

In that moment, the exile cursed her name and all it had come to represent; death, blood, war, disgrace, and finally, exile. Yes exile. She now understood why the masters cast her out to wander the outer rim, to die slowly and without friends. It was because she had no friends, only victims who marched to fight and die in her name, not knowing why they followed her, not knowing why they fought, not even in the end understanding the purpose of their death.

"Statement: master, if I may interject, no meatbags under your command have been terminated since my reactivation. This is regrettable, as I would have gladly assassinated any offending meatbag you desire. Condescending Admonition: Master surely you realize that meatbags such as yourself rarely understand the purpose of their death." The exile had forgotten about the droid she had left behind in the court yard, and realized she was muttering out loud.

The HK-47 unit exuded a menacing, but strangely comforting presence that is hard to forget when you know it's there. She suspected the only comfort to be found in such a killing device would be the knowledge that he was on her side, but still, the presence of something to talk to, something to distract her from her dark thoughts, was welcome. Even if it was a homicidally insane droid.

She knew that HK once belonged to Reven; she knew that HK had been built by Reven; the schematics she had seen during the Mandalorian wars bore a striking resemblance to the droid that now stood before her.

Despite the fact that a notorious dark lord had constructed the droid, she found solace in the fact that at least a part of it had been constructed before Reven's ultimate fall, even if that part no longer existed.

She remembered Reven before this, before the Mandalorian wars. And what she remembered could not coincide with the terror that ran through the republic at the very sound of her name. A beautiful woman, with dark hair, a mischievous smile and a glint in her eye; and though she would never be able to reconcile this image with that of the masked Sith lord, it mattered little, for she knew that Reven had been saved before the end. If only briefly, before being forced once again to become the dark lord the republic needed to unify against.

Perhaps Reven had become Sirvall to prepare the republic for Reven's eventual return, or perhaps when she turned back to the light, she became an entirely different person who was forced to make the same sacrifice as Reven. She had given up her very soul.

Either way the republic has enough Sith to deal with now, probably more than it can handle. Looking at the dead Jedi at her feet, the Jedi masters she had searched half the galaxy to find and unify against the Sith, she wondered if she were the right person to help the republic. Would she just lead it to its destruction, as she had so many others?

She struggled to control her emotions, fear, anger, hatred; struggled not to blame herself for the foolish arrogance that led her to believe she could start over, that she was fit to lead. Three Jedi masters lay dead at her feet- worse than dead, devoid of anything that could have once been called life, because she led them here. Untold knowledge lost because she had thought to lead them against the Sith.

She felt she deserved every ounce of pain, loss, and self loathing she felt; but she kept them down, because whatever happens, she would not give in to the dark side, she would never give in to the Sith. Ever.

"HK, what do you remember of Sirvall?"

"Statement: Master, may I remind you that my memory core is heavily damaged, I have no knowledge of this 'Sirvall'" the exile noticed that the droids vocabulator had slipped into its lower range, characteristic of HK's threatening mode.

"HK, I know you were on the Ebon Hawk when Sirvall traveled on it, and it is very likely that you were traveling with her when she disappeared. So unless by some miracle Revens' apprentice Bastilla managed to survive the purging of the Sith academy on Korriban, you are the only one who knew anything about Reven and Sirvall." The droid just looked at her, dark red ocular sensors glowing menacingly, as they always did, unless of course she had Bao-Dur replace them with pink ones again. She almost smiled at that, remembering HK's constant queries about the source of the crews amusement, but then remembered that she put Bao-Dur in danger just by being on the same planet with him.

If what the masters said was true she put everyone in danger just by existing, the stronger they were in the force the stronger the danger she posed to them. She wanted to believe Kreias' words, that she was not dangerous, but instead, gifted enough to destroy the evil that now consumed the galaxy planet by planet, but she could not bring herself to trust the words of the woman who had just killed the last three Jedi, just destroyed the republics salvation, for the exile new that she would not be the salvation of the republic, not any more, for the Jedi were needed to truly save it.

She could defeat the Sith, or die trying, but she was no Jedi, not any longer. And the republic needed the Jedi to rally around, if only as 'figureheads' as disciple had said.

"Statement: master, your reasoning is valid. Though ashamedly I confess a degree of confusion as to how you arrived at your conclusions. Meatbags such as yourself do not usually possess the espionage capabilities to uncover such sensitive information."

The exile was irked by the droids elusive answer, more so than usual because this time the answer truly mattered, she needed to know; was Reven truly saved? Or is the small fluttering hope in her heart simply another illusion she entertained?

For if the great Sith Lord Reven could be brought back to the light, if only for a brief time, then perhaps the exile could change what she had done to herself at Malachor.

"The Ebon Hawk is filled with old echoes, if you know how to listen HK."

"Statement: I find that accessing the central computer core often tells me more, master."

The exile shook her head in disgust and set about digging graves, she could not, with conscience, leave the last of the Jedi to decompose on a world who's inhabitants didn't even remember what Jedi truly were, people who cursed the name Jedi because they did not understand the way the galaxy worked.

"There are memories on the Hawk, HK, memories that cannot be erased or locked or edited for content. Memories that can tell me just enough to make me curious as to why you won't tell me anything about your previous masters."

"Statement: I have noticed that Jedi meatbags are often more capable than others. Though it did not seem to do these three any good." The exile looked at him sharply

"I am no Jedi. Now stop trying to change the subject, you managed to retrieve your assassination protocols, you can retrieve this. I refuse to believe that your memory core is that conveniently selective about its holes."

"Statement: Sirvall was efficient."

"And?"

"Irritated Statement: master, please bear in mind that since my service to Sirvall I have been shot, junked and sold across half the galaxy, suffered the grievous loss of my higher assassination protocols, and have fifty million distasteful and unimaginative clones giving me a bad name around the entire galactic interior. Sarcastic remark: You will have to forgive me if my central processors are not dredging up the deleted files you require fast enough. After all, I am only the most advanced assassination droid ever created, and I am sure that you have much more important things to be doing, such as interring terminated meatbags underground, in a useless display of misplaced affection, than waiting for me to complete my file search for the answer you seem so obsessed with."

"Are you finished?"

"Statement: yes, Sirvall was proficient in any of the many tasks she took on during her travels, and though she would needlessly delay herself merely to help a meatbag she had never met before in her life, she was coolly efficient when dispatching her enemies." The exile felt hope rise inside her; helping a person she did not now did not sound like the action of a dark lord, perhaps Reven truly was redeemed, perhaps the exile could redeem herself.

Though it was likely she would die trying without the three Jedi masters to aid her, she could at least try; try to defeat the Sith, and try to redeem herself. Both objectives tied into one goal now; to save the republic, because ultimately it was as much in need of redemption as she was.

And if she failed, if she was destroyed, or turned, all of evils minions would have to drag her to hell, kicking and screaming. For she would no longer go willingly.

She finished digging the graves and was reminded forcibly of what Kreia had done to the Jedi masters when she tried to pick them up using the force; she found that there was nothing there for the force to grasp, they were completely empty.

Mouth set with determination, the exile began the slow process of dragging what remained of the last three Jedi masters to their graves one by one.

Finally everything was said and done; the three Jedi lay peacefully beneath the ground. She stared at the three graves for a moment before turning away and making her way out of the dead enclave.

As they left the shadows of the forgotten corridors and moved into the bright sunset of Dantooine evening she imagined she saw a woman with a mischievous smile, dark hair blowing out in a nonexistent wind, standing watching the sunset. Reven stood tall and proud, in the robes of a Jedi knight, her legendary violet double light saber clasped surely in her hand. As she turned towards her, the exile even imagined she could see the sparkle in Revens eye, but she blinked, and the image was gone.

"You know HK, the road to hell is paved with good intentions."