Luna spun her sabre in a traditional Soresu mode, blocking the bolts of the battle droids. She could sense her Masters turmoil, and knew that he was on the edge.
She hoped she could get to him in time; losing him would be – distressing.
Harry was using his wand to smash the droids to bits, various spells smashing the robotic bodies apart. Hermione and Ron worked back to back and blocked various blasts with their lightsabres, Hermione's green light flashing high, Ron's ducking low, the two working in harmony and causing wide devastation.
Rondack led his people from the front, blasting the battle droids to pieces with his rifle; it was surprisingly rapid-fire. His people fought equally fiercely, some even smashing droids to bits with their bare hands.
The screams of battle even reached up to the top floors…
--
"Die you rusted scraps of metal!"
Dooku looked up as the screams started. He recognised the voices of his droids, and they were definitely not Clone voices.
"Trouble?" Castor asked him, smiling softly.
"Nothing to stop me dealing with you," Dooku said. He raised his sabre in a classic poise of attack, to which Castor responded with another classic move. Then they leapt at each other again, their red blades creating a halo of light around the two which seemed to encase them.
"You cannot defeat me," Dooku promised Castor, blocking another strike. "No matter how skilled you pretend to be, you cannot win."
"Who's pretending, Dooku?" Castor countered, spinning into Djem So assault. "You pretend you fight this war for altruistic purposes and then enslave whole populations!"
Dooku easily blocked the assault. He stepped back, and held out his left hand, to try and stay the hand of the man before him; Castor slowed, and settled into a warily prepared stance.
"You have much power," Dooku told him. "This I admit – but you lack focus!If you had focus, you could destroy those who killed your beloved…"
"Your droids," Castor snarled.
"Yes – but who prompted those droids?" Dooku said. "The Senate! The Jedi! The Republic!"
"You're stalling," Castor said, turning his head.
An explosion rocked the room. Dooku looked at Castor, Castor at Dooku.
"You have a choice, Jedi," Dooku said. "Be strong, and take your revenge, as a Darksider, or remain a puppet. Choose!"
Castor raised his sabre.
--
Asajj Ventress killed both the idiotic natives that dared charge her, and looked around at the courtyard.
Four Jedi, spinning their various lightsabres in concert to smash the robotic guards of the complex apart. It would be a simple matter to slaughter them, but… no, that wasn't why she was here. She was here, primarily, to escape.
"Asajj Ventress!" someone yelled at her, and she sighed. Alright, so escaping wouldn't be that straightforward…
A Jedi Knight with red hair and a blue lightsabre ran at her, spinning his blade to block a couple of bolts and then raising it in salute. She ignited her own blades and saluted him in return.
"I've heard all about you," he smiled, beginning to pace around her. "Ex-Jedi turned assassin for the Seps."
"You have the advantage of me," she replied, matching his pacing. "I don't know you at all. Not," she added with a malicious smirk, "that it matters. One dead Jedi is much the same as another."
"Who said anything about me being dead?" the Jedi smiled, then launched into an assault which put Ventress off balance almost immediately. She had to work her twin blades furiously to block his assault.
But just because he had her off balance, didn't mean he was better.
It was a gradual process, the bettering; she parried more and more blows, got off more and more strikes. Eventually, he started stepping backwards, blocking her strikes more than launching his own…
And then he lost his hand. One moment it was there, the next – not. He fell backwards and looked at the stump in horror, not daring to believe it.
"You cow," he muttered as Ventress stood over him, and prepared to finish him.
"NO!" a yell rang out, coming from the female Jedi who – aimed a wooden stick at her?
The next thing Ventress knew, she was flying across the courtyard, losing consciousness, and wondering just what the Force had hit her...
--
"Ron!" Hermione sobbed, kneeling by her injured husband. The ginger Jedi grinned at her, and then winced as he tried to sit up, clutching at his arm which had been reduced from the wrist up. He smiled reassuringly at her.
"My fault," he said, his voice strained but light. "Shoulda been more careful, I suppose."
"Probably," Hermione laughed, tearfully, and then she started sobbing again. "Oh God, Ron…"
"I'll be fine," Ron smiled at her, and he patted her hand with his remaining one. "They can replace it. You have to help Harry."
Hermione nodded, stood up, motioned two Dactarian medics over, then looked for Harry – who was nowhere to be seen.
--
Harry was running through the corridors of the building, searching desperately for his friend; but there was no sign of Castor or Dooku anywhere. Where could they be?
Noises of battle reached his ears - Lightsabre battle. He renewed his run and headed for the noise, spinning his sabre into a vortex of destruction, ready to cut Dooku in half...
And he stopped, the sabre slowing, then stopping.
Dooku was stood over Castor, who lay on the floor, a smoking hole in his chest, eyes wide and glazed. dooku's blade was gleaming and Castors was off. Dooku was smiling. He looked at Hary, nodded, saluted, and then ran.
Harry blinked, and then ran after his foe, lightsabr emoving again, deterined to catch him, exact some sort of vengeance...
But then his mind returned to him, and he realised; his duty was to Castor, whom he had come to save. He stopped, letting Dooku get away, and then rushing to find his friend; but Castor was gone, robes and all. Harry blinked, and dropped to his knees, not moving, even as the explosions continued to rock the building.
He had died.
Become one with the Force.
Of the old team, the three of them, himself, Castor and Kara, he was the only survivor.
--
Luna felt it too, the sudden los of contact with her former Master, and the shock of it snapped at her like a bullet. She stopped moving for a good minute, and then she went back to the battle.
The long view demanded that she continue the fight.
--
It was over an hour later that the discarded weapon of Castorabusallio Voraainsar was delivered to his father, who swore to enshrine it in honour. Harry said nothing to the old man, and let the talk of battle wash over him, the talk of Luna being assigned command of the 122nd, the talk of his own unit being sent to Cardan-Tomar, the talk of all the things he didn't really care about coming to pass.
Castor was dead.
--
And in a place of great evil, the darkest depths of Korriban, a ceremony happened, the ceremony of the birth of a new Sith Lord, and the death of the Rule of Two once more, for the second time since the ordaining of Darth Enigma.
His name was Darth Mortis, Death incarnate, whose black robe and black heart were equal in measure; he had long auburn hair and a beard, and his eyes were blue.
In that moment, the galaxy took a turn to the dark side.
