Authour's Note:
WARNING, the following story is very non-linear. I realise that this may throw a lot of readers off so I'll simply make it clear up front. This was a specific choice on my part because if it were written chronologically then it would have been very long with a lot of fumbling to try and retain any ense of tension.
So that being said it is broken down into 3 Acts; the Revelations chapters in themselves are chronological; and the chapters directly after each of them written similarly. The remaining two chapters, 3-'Ambit of Duality' and 6-'Desolation' (the most well written in my own opinion) are singular adventures in themselves and can be taken as such if you feel so inclined to merely test the waters rather than diving in.
So, to summurize; rather than following a straight sense of time I chose instead to follow the overarching themes of the character's story, focusing more on those things the deeper into the story you get.
Also, it is a story predominately of original charcters (which I know is generally a large obstical in reading anything on this site) and minor EU characters as the focus, throwing in a few supporting characters from both the EU and the Main 'verse to fill the story out.
That's it, I'm sorry if this puts you off, if not then I hope you enjoy it.
As light began to seep through the darkness Cahal began to wonder, finding an uneasy anxiety rising from deep within. In his right hand he held his lightsaber, but it had been years since he'd felt the urge to ignite it for the sake of a little lightness. He felt the familiarity of his room in the Jedi Temple under his bare feet as he walked through the darkness, the Force guiding him to the next room.
A dim wave of light broke through the darkness from the heavy curtains covering the window. His bare feet made no sound as he crossed the floor. The anxiety only rose within him as he reached out and grabbed the curtain. The Force somehow felt slick, and sort of sickening, and it felt worse the closer he got to the window And when he threw back the heavy curtain the light flooded into his room, banishing the darkness. But as he stood frozen, looking out the window onto the Coruscant skyline, a small part of him deep within wished he had done anything but.
Fire, smoke, and the orange glow of the light trapped down in the haze covered everything he could see, from the Jedi Temple ground far below his feet to the horizon. How could this have happened? Was all he could hear as he tried to process what he saw in front of him. And then he realised what the sickness was that coated the Force and made him feel clammy and twisted. Death. More than he had ever known, more than he could have ever imagined.
And it slid over him like oil. He stumbled against the wall beside the window, still unable to look away. The core of the capital is covered with it. I don't even know if... He had no way of finishing the thought, not that it would have mattered if he did. He felt it just before it happened. The door to his room banged open, two men bursting through. He turned his head and saw the pair, the man on the left tall and young, the man on the right short and well past his middle years. This isn't right. Both of them held ignited lightsabers. No, this is wrong. But that didn't stop what was to happen next, and he didn't need the Force to tell him what would.
He tried to prepare himself. Tried, and failed. But that isn't to say that he wasn't ready for the two to charge him together. The younger man will charge forward first. If a quick blow from the blindside doesn't deal with him, it should give enough time to deal with the other.
He pushed himself away from the wall and ignited his lightsaber, blue plasma sprouting three feet from his hand. At the same time the young man jumped to evade a chair, but before it smashed to pieces by the door he was almost knocked out by a music box in the shape of a globe that came in from the side shattering against his head. And then his lightsaber crashed into the older man's, their eyes met, and all Cahal saw was hate; a deep, burning hate. This one is tough, experienced.
Cahal allowed the Force to flow through him, and in the Force his perception of the universe changed as only one with knowledge and experience of the Force can see. Looking through the Force he saw the two men for what they were, what they truly were in the Force. The younger man was a storm, dark smoldering clouds and forked lightening that he knew would grow fiercer when he stepped into the fight once again. And the older man he stood toe to toe with was a flame, a fire burning with the intensity of a deep well of oil; he was an uncontrollable burning rage fed from whatever was buried deep within.
All in less than a moment had he analyzed the two of them, just as he was sure the older man had analyzed him. Here we go. The Force brought the warning and he gave himself over to the training of his Masters. His personal mentor Mace Windu, the Battlemaster Cin Drallig, and his good friend turned youngest Master in the history of the Order; Agen Kolar.
There are a few things one should know when it comes to the various arts of Jedi swordplay.
First and foremost is the matter of Ataro. The third form of the Jedi saber skills is, in it's elite form, completely personified by Yoda. It is characterized by Force-enhanced acrobatics to not only increase the user's speed, but also give the user a constant, almost immovable center of gravity. It dispenses with teaching defensive maneuvers as a form instead opting for teaching incredibly precise and fast strikes, thus requiring it's user to either master Ataro's aerial maneuvers or fall back on Soresu; the basic building blocks taught to all Jedi Padawans as children.
Though the Jedi library does speak of the original creators of Ataro, that style is no longer taught to any of the Jedi. The modern form adapted by Yoda having completely revolutionized the form, causing the old form that was practiced quite widely during the ancient wars with the Sith having fallen into the history files.
Then, completely at odds with the fast paced, flowing grace of Ataro is the far more recently crafted forth lightsaber form; Djem-so. The two share one single commonality, that is their tendency toward the offense, but from there they are miles apart.
Where Ataro is all fast-paced acrobatics Djem-so parries the strike and counterattacks, throwing the opponent onto the back foot. When taken to the extreme the Force user will seek to bully and overwhelm their opponent as fast as possible. However, it also requires it's user to constantly stay on the front foot.
And then of course, there is Juyo. The seventh lightsaber form, built entirely around an emotional outburst powering mind-blowing assault lastly; Mace Windu is the only true master, having tweaked it into his own unique style; Vaapad. Vaapad takes it's name from a many-limbed tentacled creature from a small, rarely traversed corner of the galaxy. It is not uncommon for a Vaapad to grow between nine and fourteen tentacles, though the most ever recorded has been twenty-three. That being said, it is never known just how many tentacles a Vaapad has until the creature that has crossed it's path has managed to kill it.
A Vaapad is by nature a very territorial creature, and it's limbs move faster than anything else known, complicating matters for even the most experienced Jedi. As such, the lightsaber technique is characterized by a calm advance while the user's weapon moves faster than most can achieve in a mastered form of Ataro; the weapon flicking from place to place with the sound of a whip-crack.
He's fast. The older man's green blade flashed and struck against Cahal's blue. And precise. Both users of Ataro and quickly falling into synchrony as the Force-increased speed quickly had them blurring into a blue-green haze flashing across the room. Cahal, having been trained by the creator and only living master of Vaapad held a slight advantage as the two of them flew around each other, more than once the distinctive whip-crack saving his life.
But Cahal Meyrick was no Master, of anything. He wasn't that experienced, his swordplay had very little refinement to it, and his failure to master Vaapad only pressured his failure in the more complex maneuvers of Ataro. He knew it was to Master Drallig's disappointment that he constantly fell back into Soresu when pushed onto the back foot instead of flying around his opponent in search for the best position to attack from.
The other one is getting up. His heart started to beat faster. Need to finish this one quickly. Green and blue flashed and darted around each other in the corner of the room, leaving scorch marks across the floor and through the window. Then Cahal saw it. Oh crap! And he missed a step.
He was too close, he knew it, held his nerve and fell backwards, swinging his lightsaber across in the same motion. The green lightsaber whipped above him as he turned his head, so close he felt the heat across his ear as he flipped over backwards with the Force, landing on his knees. One down. He looked up to see the older man drop his lightsaber, moving his hands to a long black scar that ran across him before he collapses, his insides spilling out onto the floor like the contents of an open bag.
The moment the older man hit the floor Cahal felt a shift in the Force. He needn't have looked, but he turned his head all the same to see the younger man. Through the Force he saw the storm build into a rage, whipping around itself like a tornado as lightening flashed outward. And for a second time he felt death wash over him.
He felt slow, sluggish, and drained as he watched the storm darken and grow. What is this? Then a fork of lightening flashed out at him. He gathered what strength he had and raised his right hand, deflecting the lightening to the side where it crashed into the wall. Who is he? His right forearm was numb, his mind had slowed to a crawl and the Force started to slip away from him. But the younger man didn't let up, charging forward and slashing at him with his lightsaber.
He's fast. Cahal fell back, and back, and back. But not as fast as the older man. He kept up easily enough, but that wasn't really the problem. No, this one was strong. Too strong. Cahal was completely unable to match his strength as he slammed his dark blue blade down into his own, bending his arms and wrists with every blow. I can't keep this up.
The man slammed into him so hard he was pushed back a couple of steps, and then the next thing he knew he was outside the Temple, hands empty and falling amongst the debris of the window and wall he was blown out of. Master Windu wouldn't be too pleased, how many times have you been in situations like this one? He turned in the air, pressed his feet against the outside wall and pushed himself off, propelling himself with the Force he shot away from the main tower of the Jedi Temple.
A moment later he was sliding along the floor of a hallway, having crashed through the window of one of the four corner towers. Too easy. Cahal pushed himself to his feet, breathing hard and steadying himself as he tried to overcome the overwhelming aura of death engulfing everything.
Take it slow, time makes it easier. Just time. Leaning against the wall for a moment, trying to catch his breath he raised his hand to his ear, feeling where his Padawan braid had been burnt to a crisp end after two inches by the green plasma, he found himself smiling. Not like I need it anymore anyway. He pushed himself off the wall and walked to the hole he made as he crashed his way inside.
Standing at the edge he looked up and saw the man standing where he left the central tower, looking down at him. He's waiting for something. Then his gaze drifted further up the tower, and all thought completely escaped him. His eyes never found the Chamber of the Jedi Council. Instead they came up more than a few dozen feet short of the mark, the tower ending abruptly in a maze of jagged, ruined columns and walls standing up like fingers cradling the fading haze of a smoke plume stretching up into the atmosphere and clouding everything in and around the Jedi Temple.
Cahal, in an effort to fight off the absolute crushing despair, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, searching for the famed Jedi calm, the first thing taught to all students upon their arrival at the Jedi Temple.
It took him longer than it normally would have, but these were far from normal circumstances. Slowly he managed to sink into the Force, and in that calmness, he saw the future. Only glimpses of the immediate, but more than enough.
He looked down to the Temple grounds, and saw a massing of troops guarding huge artillery pieces. More than a dozen, all with barrels large enough for a man to fit in without fear of claustrophobia. And every barrel was moving in the direction of the tower he stood in. Well, only one way that can possibly end.
So Cahal did what he had been trained to do; he let the Force guide him. After so many years it was now far simpler than listening to and adhering to the will of the Force; now it was almost as if he quite literally gave himself to the Force, and the Force took him where it needed him to be. And so it wasn't so much as he moved with the Force as it was the Force moved him.
Here we go. Dozens of gigantic booms signaled the artillery opening up. Never two in the same instant, each loud enough to shake the Temple even without their devastating payload. The entire tower shook, and trembled, and broke apart. It's okay, you got this. You got this. The Force took him through the tower as it crumbled all around him, leading him through the destruction, every footstep safe only for the moment in which the Force took him through it.
But it was not enough. There were too many obstacles, too many explosions, too much debris, and nowhere near enough chances for safety at any turn. Cahal knew this, he saw it coming. They never called you crazy for nothing. The Force took him to where he needed to be, and then there was only pain as the tower crumpled and collapsed all around him. And he screamed.
The darkness came as quickly as the pain and lasted just as long. The silence came after, and was almost calming in and of itself. But it was not the end. The Force hadn't lied to him, nor had it deserted him. Yep, no question about it. That one hurt.
As Cahal fought his way back from the edge of the darkness his hands slid through the loose debris to his torso, running across to his left side where he felt the metal spike running through him. He was on his side, trapped in a small space where some pieces of wall and ceiling had come together to create a sort of brace and slanted ceiling.
Alright Cahal, first things first. His left leg was pinned to the floor at his calf, so firstly he freed himself with a gesture, channeling a minute amount of the Force. Right, good job. Now we've just gotta... as he braced himself, and with another scream he slid forward and began slowly pulling himself off of the metal spike.
Already bleeding out as he flopped onto the floor, he gathered the Force and placed a hand on both ends of the wound. Sealing the wounds didn't take more than a trickle of energy, but any lack of concentration could provide some pretty awful results. And the pain was almost laughable compared to what came before.
Good, well done. All immediate problems dealt with Cahal finally allowed himself to truly lay back and rest for a minute. Now you've just gotta dig yourself out, walk through the apocalyptic remains of the Central Planet, get into the depths of the Jedi Temple, somehow get your hands on another lightsaber, and you'll be flying.