Coruscant.
Where Juhani had failed, the statue had succeeded. Agent after agent approached the statue, convinced of the threat and of Juhani's story after Belaya had demonstrated her potent new strengths in the Force. The statue had been set up in an inner courtyard that had a floor of brown and white veined marble, full of white and brown striped roses, as a Agency forensics team ran an assortment of tests after the statue "Flash" trained each individual, sending them into a twelve minute coma. The sky was exposed overhead, The black clouds signaling yet another thunderstorm.
The Senior Investigators (Equivalent to Jedi High Council) had finally showed. Their own version of Vandar, a small alien in a custom made black and white striped suit with a feather in his hat, had pressed Juhani relentlessly about what kind of defenses would work best against an army of Dark Jedi... Juhani, herself inexperienced, could only give a few vague suggestions that she remembered from her own classes. Canderous had been freed. He himself wore a dark pinstripe suit and slouch hat, his face covered by an elaborately engraved silver mask with a t-shaped visor. He had been given back his repeater, a blaster carbine with a stock and a drum-shaped energy clip. He walked up to her, his posture denoting relief.
"Seems like they finally started to take us seriously. I shall signal for my clan to rally at the Jedi Precinct. How are things on your end?" the Mandalorian asked.
"The Device is training as fast as possible, but it will be close. I am not even really certain how much time we actually have before Nolin arrives," Juhani answered. "But it do or die, no?"
"Nolin and his cronies are gonna be the ones who die. My clan will see to that. It's just time to do things the old fashioned way," Canderous replied.
The pair paused as another agent woke up, shaking out of fear at the threat the statue had shown him. The Device called to the human, and the human approached the statue cautiously.
An aperture in the milky jade colored statue opened in the chest, and out floated a simple lightsaber with an unadorned hilt carried on a repulsor field. The Jedi took it and activated it.
The blade did not spring out of the hilt as a normal lightsaber did. It instead coalesced into existence, structured like a long thin rectangular block with a lattice pattern, blue in color.
"Might be fun..." Canderous trailed off.
Juhani turned to Canderous. "Pardon?"
"Might be fun hopping from reality to reality, trying to find that best of all possible worlds. Compare notes, if nothing else," Canderous said. "I thought I'd seen everything. Done everything. Makes you realize how limited a single lifetime actually is."
"One lifetime all we get," Juhani replied. "Best not to waste it."
"Probably right about that," Canderous said quietly.
A Jedi suddenly barged into the courtyard where every agent had lined up.
"Guys!" the rodian agent yelled. "Our defensive network just picked up a small contingent of frieghters entering the system! We have forty-five minutes before he's here!"
Juhani raced to the statue, brushing past the agents.
"Device!" she called out. "Signal Bastila, we have problem!"
Ossus.
Bastila had finally been rejoined by Carth, after her battle with Aleema Keto's spirit in the cargo bay. No sooner had they finished patting themselves on the back at having got this far that the Device contacted them again from halfway across the galaxy.
"The Juhani of 11-99 wishes me to inform you that Nolin and his army have arrived in the Coruscant sector," the Electronic voice sounded over what was left of the vessel's comm system.
"That's impossible!" Bastila said. "It's twelve hour trip in either direction!. How could he have gotten there so soon?"
"He possibly modified his ships to run on schematics found on this vessel," the Device answered.
"Can't we just do the same thing?" Bastila asked.
Carth shook his head immediately. "It would take hours to recalibrate the Hawks engines. Hell, we might have to rip 'em out entirely and pray we don't explode after retrofitting the new designs."
"Well, Nolin did it somehow! We have to think," Bastila exclaimed pinching the bridge of her nose, trying to control her stress-and forcing back down the Sith Knowledge she had absorbed from Keto's spirit.
"Unrequired. One working shuttle fitted with my universe's hyperspace technology remains. It is in this bay. It need only be freed to fly," The Device added. "Cargo bay launch doors compromised. Recommend use of telekinesis to rend open outer hull. Activate Multiversal Transponder on bridge to signal reinforcements before proceeding."
Bastila nodded and began searching the bay for the supposedly intact shuttle. She spotted it, a strange, battered crimson metal sphere resting on a metal tripod built into the floor and partly submerged on one side by shattered crates and cryo-pods.
"I'll head for the bridge. Captain. You get in that thing and see how it works. Give me something by the time I get back," Bastila instructed.
Carth nodded and Bastila bolted for the bridge, eager to get there before she suffered any more 'surprises'.
Carth made his way through the shattered bay, approaching the sphere. When he reached it, all he could do, was mutter, "Great. How do I open the damn thing?"
Bastila struggled her way up the corridors, littered with junk and corpses. A dank, musty smell, filled her nostrils and she coughed, trying to focus on anything but the Sith teachings that were now at her disposal.
This whole damn mission had gone violently wrong, and as usual, a war was brewing between Force Users because somebody had decided to get greedy. Bastila wasn't sure whether or not she was going to fulfil her council mandate to assassinate Revan-finding out that he had to give up a normal life to master the Force seemed punishment enough for his treachery. But she was almost certain she'd have to end up killing Nolin.
Then she could worry about how to rid herself of Aleema's foul memories and teachings. What a nightmare.
She at last reached the bridge. The turbo-door opened and Bastila stepped into the oval bridge. Blackened and twisted long ago, by the crash and the subsequent fire, the sensitive posts and equipment were recessed into pits deep in the floor, as they were on standard dreadnought class starships in Bastila's universe. Burnt skeletons lay strewn about and Bastila got a mild feeling of discomfort upon spotting one in the tattered remains of what had obviously been a very bright orange jumpsuit with the name ONASI stitched out on the nametag. The ceiling had collapsed and the viewport was cracked and exposed, allowing her to glimpse the jungle of Ossus around the impact crater the vessel had made. Sunlight streamed in from various other cracks in the ceiling.
She glimpsed a single glowing blue terminal to the left of her, in the crew pit. She hopped down and approached it.
Bastila was totally unprepared for what came next.
A full color hologram suddenly sprang up in front of her. The hologram took the form of...Bastila.
Or rather, a version of Bastila. She was dressed in a tight fitting brown bodysuit with white gloves and boots, Her hair was done in a single ponytail. She was clutching her side, bleeding badly out of her mouth and the audio began to play, allowing the living Shan to hear screams and alarms going off in the background.
The Holo-Bastila coughed before starting.
"If you're seeing this," the hologram spoke, her voice slightly gruffer and less cultured than her living counterpart. "It means everything I feared has come to pass. It means I'm dead. Zaalbaar...driven crazy by that...thing...we were transporting. Sabotaged the entire damned ship. If you're a Jedi from my universe...sorry about all this. If you're anyone else but a Jedi, then leave if you value your life. But if you have reached this place...then activate the transponder to signal my universe. And when you find the the Dark Underlord...part of me is hoping you don't...but if you do...destroy it. Destroy it utterly, if it is within your power. It's an abomination. The code to activate the transponder is one one dash three eight, the same designation the prime universe has. Good luck, and may the Force be with you."
The Hologram derezzed.
"Good looking out," Bastila whispered, approaching the terminal.
Some quirk of the electrical system conspired against Bastila's nerves one last time. The motorized chair next to the terminal swiveled around and Bastila shrieked when she saw the mummified corpse of her own counterpart leaning back, jaw open.
After she stopped shrieking, she tentatively brushed past 'her' corpse and punched in the numbers on the holographic keyboard.
"Transponder activated. Well done," the Device intoned. "Please proceed to the cargo bay."
Bastila was all too glad to leave the bridge, having faced her own mortality in far too literal a manner.
When she reached the Cargo, she found Revan and Mira waiting with Carth.
"Onasi signaled us as we approached on the Hawk. We going back to Coruscant in this thing?" Mira asked glibly, having cleaned up her dark green leather body suit. Bastila discomfortingly noted the look of quiet despair etched in her red haired companions almond shaped eyes and mouth, her fair skin still a little pale from her brush with the Dark Side. Revan was more sullen than ever, no longer holding himself up as confidently as he used to. He occasionally stole looks from behind his impassive bronze face mask.
"Yes. Onasi, did you figure it out?"
"To a degree. It opens on voice command, which that statue thingy was kind enough to override," Carth replied. He turned back to the spherical ship. "I don't see how we're going to fly her out of here though. This place is a mess."
"Leave that to me," Bastila responded nonchalantly, cracking her knuckles as she stretched out her hands to the ceiling, taking deep breaths.
"Size doesn't matter, size doesn't matter, size doesn't matter..." she repeated in whispers to herself, concentrating with her eyes closed.
She did not allow herself to feel joy as she heard the rending of metal above her. It would have distracted her, and joy at ones power was an emotion only a Sith could appreciate.
The tearing of metal grew louder as she spread her arms outward, clenching her fists as she finally widened the gash enough for the sphere shuttle to pass through. Sunlight gleamed through, and Bastila felt somehow energized by the presence of more light.
"Open," Carth said. An aperture parted on the side of the shuttle and they all climbed into the surprisingly spacious interior, but they were awkwardly tilted to one side in their seats as the hatch closed behind them.
Carth fumbled at suddenly active holographic controls.
"WAY above my pay grade," he muttered as he started the launch sequence in the exact manner the Device had instructed him to before Bastila's arrival.
They felt themselves dislodge from the magnetic tripod holding them in place. The ship righted itself automatically.
"Impressive," Revan breathed as a flashing display on the console instructed Carth to set coordinates.
He typed in 000-the hyperspace address for Coruscant.
Bastila was so glad to finally be leaving this evil place that she almost didn't appreciate the fact that the shuttle rocketed them out of the atmosphere at speeds far greater than the fastest cruiser in her universe would even try to attempt.
Coruscant.
The shuttle exited out of hyperspace a half hour later.
"Most impressive," Revan breathed in the darkened interior. Carth took manual control and a holo screen popped up allowing him to steer the ship through the atmosphere.
"I wonder if who's ever coming for that rusted heap on Ossus will let us keep the shuttle. Flies like a dream..." Carth noted as the ship flew at high speed to the Jedi Precinct.
Bastila felt a knot of ice seize her stomach as she sensed Nolin nearby. All of them grimaced as they saw a pillar of smoke rising from the cathedral like building made of white stone and stained glass windows nestled at the center of skyscrapers with figures of animals carved into them and designed around the precinct in a circular fashion. Atop the precinct's slanted roof sat five bell towers in a square pattern, with the largest in the center, all seemed to be constructed of red brick.
The thunderstorm raged outside the precinct, lightning flashing violently outside, and from what Bastila could tell from the holoscreen, she spotted tell tale flashes between bars of light held by men and women below.
"Captain, set us down!" Bastila said, once the shuttle had gotten close enough to see the color of the combatants clothing.
"Are you crazy? Not in the middle of that melee!" Carth objected.
"Then set me above it! I can make it from here!"
Revan grabbed her by the shoulder. "From this height you'll turn into a sack of jelly when you hit!"
Bastila squinted at him. "That last thing I need is a lecture about safety and restraint from the unthinking fool who caused all of this."
Revan withdrew his hand as though she were a snake. Carth opened the hatch, and Bastila leapt out into the war below.
She focused her power, channeling it into the bottom of her feet and the palms of her hands as she fell through the stinging rain. As she impacted on the marble path leading to the steps of the precinct, an invisible, explosive wave channeled itself through the ground, instantly killing two black clothed Dark Agents that were about to finish off a Jedi Agent wearing an all white business suit. A red Twilek man by the looks of it.
Not pausing to check on him, she threw herself into another fight, this one between Dark Agents and Jedi wearing gas masks that covered the face entirely and utilizing a lightsaber with a strange, thin, rectangular-cube appearance to the blade she had never seen before. The Agents brown and white business suit seemed to be of higher quality, the pinstripes broader, the black tie and fedora shinier.
Bastila surprised the Dark Agents, still fighting with flat lightsaber blades, these a dark, blood red, and bearing the appearance of a two-edged sword. They turned to engage her and were suddenly fending off lethally fast spinning attacks from the Padawan's own double bladed flat-saber. She easily turned aside their inexperienced slashes and stabs, with spinning swipes of her own blade. But the pair of agents fought doggedly, determined to bring her down or die trying.
Bastila, her impatience already at an all time high with how this whole thing had gone down, exploded with frustration, tapping some of Aleema's illusory techniques. With a flick of her wrists, she reduced the Dark Agents to cringing on the ground, her trick having convinced them that they were infirm old men on life support.
When she noticed her distinct satisfaction, she let out a cry of shame, pulling the horrible illusion out of their minds and erasing it. She tried not to think about how she had just tapped the Dark Side as she effortlessly blocked a strike from a Dark Agent who had charged at her from behind, parried his second attempt and then beheaded him with her other blade.. The rain kept stinging her face all the while, the wind howling as if to give voice to the cacophony of violence this had descended to.
Bastila gripped another Dark Agent with telekinesis, hurling him into his fellows, using him as a club as she slammed him with the force of a cannonball, killing the cluster of Dark Agents instantly. Using it to survive was one thing, using it for simple cruelty was quite another.
Four more enemies surrounded her, all bringing their sabers down at the same time.
She blocked the strikes in front and back of her, twirling out of the way of the strikes from her side a split second later, turning her block into a deadly spinning move on the ground with her staff weapon that strongly resembled what would have been called break dancing, eviscerating all four of her opponents at once.
She blocked the grenade blast with a force barrier out of instinct rather than having actually realized it was there. White hot agony exploded through her left arm and leg as she was flunt off part of the walk way down a set of steps behind hair, landing on another part of the marble path.
Time slowed for Bastila as she saw a smirking Dark Agent, a Togrutan, chuck his one use grenade rifle and draw his pistol, pointing it at her head. She was in too much pain to move.
So this was how it ended. One a cold dark rainy night and utterly alone. Just like the night she had come into the Order's service, yelling for a father who had forced himself to stay away for her own good. Her mother's face had been impassive. But her eyes tried to hide an emotion that, as a young girl, Bastila had never determined the nature of.
She remembered the night before the Order had taken her, how her mother, Helena, had cooked her favorite meal. Even then, Helena had been...distant...as a parent. But this one time, this one time she had shown enough enthusiasm that her daughter had finally believed she had reached a turning point in their relationship.
As things were turning out now, it was a dead end.
Bastila was quite certain, that, had she desired it, she could have easily tapped her anger and destroyed her enemy utterly, but fear of becoming exactly like him stayed her will. Now was as good a time as any to go, and at least she could die knowing she had done everything she could to set things right.
Half a second before she knew he was going to pull the trigger, a familiar pink lightfoil erupted from the agent's chest. He screamed as it was dragged up through his sternum, killing him instantly.
Mira and Revan rushed to Bastila's side, Carth taking pot shots with his blaster at Dark Agents whose backs were turned during the fighting. He dropped many of them.
"She's lucky, that explosion should have torn her apart," Mira breathed, cradling the padawan in her arms.
Revan pulled out a piece of shrapnel from her arm. Shan screeched, nearly biting her tongue off in reflex.
A soft white light erupted from his hands. The wounds, the loose sinews and charred patches of skin begin to lash themselves together and then disappear.
"Another few minutes and you'd have hemorrhaged internally," he mentioned, completing the ultra fast healing technique his version of the Order was so good at.
Bastila sat up, the pain gone. "Thank you," she said. "I suppose this means I have to let you live now."
"It would be a nice gesture," he replied, some of his old playfulness returning. "Say, anybody ever tell you that you look incredible?"
She scowled at him. She knew it had been only a joke, but she had no appetite for humor at the moment.
"Start 'that' particular line of crap with your own Bastila," she spat, rising up, dismayed that most of her clothing had been ripped up by the blast and clung to her by a few threads. She heard cheering from the other end of the walkway. The Jedi had defeated the last of their dark counterparts. The walkway was secure.
One Agent in a business suit and gas mask came running up to her. "Name's Karuusoe, Ma'am. Jedi Vice Unit. We were told to expect you. You sure know how to make an entrance," he said in a dark, yet elegant tone.
At the sound of the man's name, Bastila (For reasons that were beyond her), suddenly felt an overwhelming desire to A: Utter a one liner about a dead body, B: Find a pair of sunglasses and put them on after uttering the one liner, and C:Scream "YEAAAHHH!" like a banshee with a sore throat. She wisely decided to suppress all three urges.
"How goes the battle for the Precinct?" she asked, focusing on the task.
"Nolin screwed us good and proper, Ma'am," the Agent answered. "Drew a lot of us out on the walkway, by claiming he had hostages and wanted to negotiate, What we got were these animals in the black coats. He landed a strike team in the first courtyard , and cut us off from access. Rock and a hard place. We saw a few Mandalorian shuttles fly in soon after but we don't know what's happened. Battle went on for half an hour before you arrived."
"Where would Nolin go?" Carth asked.
"My first bet is he's trying to take the directories. It's where we keep a list of info on all the Force Users the government finds out about. Is it true what they say? Does he really dissolve people with his mind?"
"Yes, unfortunately," Revan answered. "He has to be stopped."
Bastila could feel Karuusoe's loathing of Revan like a physical wall around him. "You got some nerve showing yer' face here, Revan. We know you're responsible. If we survive this I can guarantee you Commissioner Vandar (Equivalent to Jedi Grand Master) will have you hanged."
"Let's survive this first, and then we can worry about my neck having a meeting with a rope," Revan replied, suppressing his disquiet.
"Jedi do not kill their prisoners," Bastila criticized.
"Your Jedi. Not ours. He wouldn't be the first guy to swing, either," The agent retorted dismissively, shaking his head in disgust. "Follow me. We're working on opening the gates now."
Bastila nodded, retrieving her lightsaber from the ground. She tested it by turning it on and giving a few swishes, shutting it off after she was satisfied it wasn't damaged.
As the group headed for the Precinct's front gates, Mira whispered into Revan's ear "Roses are red, violets are blue. My husband has died, and now so will you."
Revan ignored the taunt, but gripped Bastila's old lightsaber tightly in his gloved hands, unreadable as long as his bronze mask was on.
A few heavily armed and armored Jedi SWAT team members in brown and white gas masks had just begun to start the hacking process at a nearby terminal next to the wrought iron gates when Bastila had shouted for the agents to get out of the way.
They parted and Bastila blasted the gates with enough telekinetic Force to send the solid metal doors flying open, cracking slightly on their hinges.
She rushed in, finding the wide, tree lined courtyard to be a sight of grisly carnage, Dark Agents lay strewn about in heaps, along with equally high piles of Jedi Agents, and men in white t-shirts and blue khakis, each wearing a face mask with a t-shaped visor, and bearing the ancient skull of a long extinct animal on their shoulders. The Mandalorians Canderous had promised. Strange times made for strange bedfellows indeed.
Bastila grew sick at the sight of such a massacre. The Agents that had fought on the walkway followed, along with Revan, Mira, and Carth.
Revan was silent for a few moments out of shame at what he had perpetuated before he spoke; "I get it now, Bastila. I understand why you didn't want us to know too much. This...is unforgivable."
"Too little, too late," Bastila, Mira and Carth said in perfect unison. They glanced at each other in curiosity for a second before rushing for the Precinct entrance, a series of colored glass doors.
A moan of pain stopped them in their tracks, Bastila located the source and recognized the voice. She turned to her right and spotted Canderous, lying in a puddle of his own blood against a tree.
"Someone get a doctor!" Carth shouted, nearly tripping over a corpse to reach him.
"Why flyboy, I didn't know you cared," Canderous joked, face still behind his mask. He looked at Bastila, who knelt beside him. "Not going as well as we hoped, eh princess?"
"You're going to be alright," she responded, not knowing what else to say.
"Of course I am. Nobody here is man enough to kill the likes of me," Canderous replied, staring as the deep stab wound on his side. "They can sure make me bleed though..."
"Where is he?" Bastila asked.
"Nolin? I imagine that prick is forcing his way past the checkpoints we set up as we speak. He took some of the Jedi Agents prisoner after he shoved a knife into me. I don't know what he intends, but with that look of glee on his face I'm glad I don't have to find out. Kill him. Even I can feel his power now. If he isn't finished off soon, he'll grow too powerful for even you to stop."
Bastila grimaced. "We shall see."
She arose as the Jedi Agents tended to the wounded Mandalorian, the rain still coming down mercilessly the entire time.
"One more thing," Canderous coughed out, as an agent set his power on him. "I think he has Juhani. Don't ask me how I know...I...I just do..."
Bastila nodded, turning her back on her companions. "I must go and face him alone."
"Bastila, that's suicide. You have back-up!" Carth protested.
"Let me go with you!" Revan exclaimed. "I had a hand in his downfall. Let me make things somewhat right."
"You've done enough. Only a true Jedi, with the Force as their ally can conquer Nolin. I'm as much his creator as you are. More so, even."
"Nolin made his own choices Bastila. You can't blame yourself for what he did!" Mira exclaimed.
"I helped him make them by refusing to guide him to the right path when he needed it. Well let me tell you, I'll never neglect someone in that kind of need ever again," Bastila proclaimed, head hung down in shame over her own stubbornness. "Even if that person is a Dark Lord of the Sith," she added quietly. "I must face him by myself. You can do no more good for me. The Force shall guide me now. Wait ten minutes after I'm gone before going in. Good luck."
Bastila strode forward through the rain, finally ripping the domino mask off her face and discarding it. She had to face this threat with her own eyes.
The inside of the hall were much like the outside, a cacophony of violence littered the ornate gilded halls and polished floors, running slick with spilled viscera and the blood of Jedi and Dark Agent alike. Blaster and lightsaber marks scorched the wall, and bodies lay twisted over overturned chairs and overrun barricades.
"This town is never big enough for the two of us," she remarked, proceeding to where she felt the cold feeling increase.
She stopped at a turbolift. Nolin, mind even more corrupted, had written the words I HAVE YOU NOW in blood on the turbolift doors.
"Prick," she muttered, admitting to herself that Nolin was likely beyond redemption. Still if she didn't try to save him, she'd never sleep comfortably at night again.
She stepped into the lift and found a bloody finger print over the button leading to the top floor.
Bastila pressed it. A smart man might have rigged the lift to blow as soon as she pressed it, but Nolin, like all Dark Siders, was so arrogantly sure of his own superiority, he felt the need to act out a grand finale to demonstrate it.
Oh, well, his loss and her gain, she thought as the lift creapt upward.
She steeled herself for what she was sure would be the most dangerous battle she would ever fight.
The opening moments did not disappoint.
Bastila stepped out of the lift and was greeted by twisted wards on the ground written with blood in a language she did not recognize. The bodies of Jedi Agents hung in makeshift crosses in a semi circle. Candles surrounded an alter made out of a wood desk with Juhani in a set of grey and black armor strapped to it. Nolin, having discarded his old uniform was now covered in a tight fitting set of black armor with a white cape and hood. He turned, and Bastila's breath caught in her throat as she saw his bronze face mask had been replaced by a skull like mask with two red smears of blood over the eyebrows.
"Welcome Bastila," Nolin said. "I trust the journey here was not too difficult? My master promised me you would soon be here to witness his rebirth. He can be your new master too, should you desire."
"Nolin," Bastila hissed, teeth gritted. "You've hurt a lot of people. How does this slaughter help save your beloved agency?"
"I did not mindlessly attack the agents here. I explained what I wanted in a broadcast to all their comm channels. They said no and I attacked. I see now that they were too cautious. Too unwilling. I think of what occurred here today as...purification."
"Purification? You murdered people you worked with for years. What could the Dark Underlord have possibly promised you?"
"He promised me the power to undo the old ways, where everyone was too afraid of the Force to assert their will on a galaxy so desperately in need of our guidance. And most of all..." Nolin seemed to hesitate before admitting this next part. "...he offered me the power to keep my daughter from that harlot Arren. She...she won't dare try to take my Brianna from me, now that I have been reborn as Darth Nihilus."
"Whatever he told you, he's lying," Bastila protested, stepping forward. "You're a pawn to him."
"Perhaps, but I have my uses. He's not evil, Bastila."
"Really?" she asked, incredulous as she gazed upon the horror he had turned this place into. "Could have fooled me."
"This resurrection spell you see came from the tome of a Darth Revan. The Dark Underlord simply seeks to spread the gospel of the Dark Side to all Force Sensitive's and lead them from the slavery of the light."
"The only thing that shall spread is his ectoplasm as I hurl his foul soul back to depths of Chaos," Bastila asserted, activating her lightsaber. "You cannot win Nolin. I am a Jedi. You have not had these powers long enough to truly know their actual strengths. Please, for your own sake, Surrender and help me defeat this thing that turned you into a mockery of your former self. Don't force me to kill you."
"Surrender? At the hour of triumph? I think you over estimate your chances," Darth Nihilus replied. He chanted something and the wards under Bastila's feet glowed. The cold chilled her to the bone as she saw a flicker of...something...waft from Nolin's body into Juhani's, who gasped, squirming in her restraints as she choked out cries of pain.
"At last, I get to prove myself against a truly able opponent," Nihilus, chuckled, pulling out his now red flatsaber, once Juhani's, and still in the single-edged shape, but now with a dark red color. "Welcome to the Dark Side, Bastila."
Nihilus screamed and lifted off the ground channeling the Force through his blade and ripping chunks of the ceiling off and hurling them at Bastila.
