(Wanting her Battle Meditation. )

Chapter three:

Not so fast. Malak raised his hand, and Bastila instinctively flinched. Instead of the electric shocks she was expecting, a heavy weight pressed down on her body, concentrated in her chest. Her breathing became laboured, and she reached out yet again to call on the Force for aid. She'd been here for days chained to a slab under constant supervision and near- constant torture, and though she'd been trained to resist the tortures of the dark side, she could already feel her will slowly being chipped away.

You can't... break... me, Malak, the young female Jedi declared, defiantly staring down the Sith Lord even as she struggled to draw breath.

You are young, and quite talented in the Force, child, but no one can resist the power of the dark side. I want your Battle Meditation, Bastila, and I will have it. One way, he raised his hand and commanded sparks to appear at the edge of his fingertips, or another.