“Vima.” Kaviss' voice—no she couldn't think of him as Kaviss anymore. He was Revan now; Kaviss was dead. Vima only wished she knew what had truly killed him.“Revan.” She spit the name like a curse.
“Contrary to what you may think, it would bring me no pleasure to dispose of you.” He pointed a gauntleted finger towards the cavern that Vima was blocking. “Stand aside.”
“You know I can't do that Revan.” Her hand rested on the hilt of her saber. “I will do everything in my power to stop you.” He chuckled, a eerie sound through the filter of his mask.
“No claims about how I cannot win?”
“I do not make claims to knowledge I do not have.”
“That does not seem very Jedi like of you, Vima. Jedi are ever making claims about what is, trusting in the power of their belief in the Force. Do not try, the Masters say, believe and do!”
“I have never said that the Masters, even myself, were not sometimes foolish. We whisper a great many aphorisms, often without considering the logical consequences of what they mean.” She paused, looking directly at where Revan's eyes would have been behind the mask. “You taught me that.”
“So I did; I am glad to see that it has stuck.” He sighed. “This is going to be a pity.” Suddenly his saber was in his hand. With a snap hiss it activated, casting a red glow on the dark rocks. “Last chance Vima.” She activated her own saber and brought the shining green light in front of her. She did not know if she could win this, but she would certainly try. All one could do in life was to try for the best.
Only fools said otherwise.
And the Aesop of the story is... fxck you Yoda, fxck you.