CHAPTER EIGHT

The Battle of Coruscant

Three days into the search through the tunnels leading out of the building they had found, and Deaton is still certain they are on the right track — Stiles, however, cannot seem to bring himself to share the man's surprisingly optimistic view on the matter, because he is tired. So are Alis-Sen, and Eri-Ka, and Liam. None of them dare complain, though, because, should they succeed, it would be a blow to the Separatists and the Dark Side like no other, and should they fail, well, at least they are doing something to deal with the real issue of the war, which is far preferable to meandering off-world, containing rebellions and civil wars, and never knowing if they are actually fighting on the right side of any of them.

The Dark Side, Stiles is quite aware, plays a major role into his pessimism and disheartened view of the whole mission. It's affecting him, his padawan, and his closest friends, and he doesn't like this at all, this having to battle his own demons with every step of the way, having to convince himself it's worth to keep going when everything in those tunnels seems to whisper to him that he's fighting on the wrong side of this battle.

That is what disturbs him the most.

On the Middle Rim Civil Wars, on the Outer Rim rebellions, on the Inner Rim aggressive negotiations, he doubts their function, and their reasons, and the Republic's path, and the Senate's motivation, but he never doubts the Light itself — now? Now he catches himself thinking that he can understand Count Peter's reasoning, and agrees with him. He finds himself wondering that, maybe, giving in to the more basic feelings which sustain the Dark Side might give them an advantage if they should actually have to fight a Sith Lord.

He remembers Jen-Fer, the weight of her unconscious body, the ferocity with which she fought, he remembers wondering what could have driven her into such a pit, and then he almost understands it and it's scaring him to death.

He has this uneasy feeling that nothing will ever be the same again, this foreboding around him like he's reaching the end of something, and he doesn't know what it is.

Rationally, he knows they are all fighting it — this is the Dark Side way, this is what they've been fighting against this whole time, but it's still truly terrifying how naturally these thoughts come to him.

He can't even feel hopeful when they find a secret control panel which, by Deaton's assumption, will finally take them to where the Sith's final destination would be.

"Another corridor, what a shock," Eri-Ka comments when they take another turn, and find one more twist.

Stiles snorts quietly, and Deaton frowns at them both.

"Every corridor we go through is one less between us and wherever this path leads," he tells them in a severe voice, and neither of them answers — mostly because they see no point to it.

Stiles starts noticing, however, the footprints all over the long corridor, and that seems to pull him off his own dark place for long enough to actually hope. The prints are all clear enough that they can see the being is clearly a human, they could even measure the size of his shoes if they so wished.

He's so distracted by this physical, irrefutable evidence of the presence of the Sith Lord in Coruscant, he almost misses Alis-Sen's exchange with Dyne.

"If the footprints continue for much longer, we may need new permission from the Chancellor," the clone tells her, and the woman frowns.

"Why would we need that?"

"Because if this leads us far enough, we'll be going into the subbasements of 500 Republica."

Stiles freezes, and he can hear Eri-Ka gasping behind him.

500 Republica, the most protected building in the whole city of Coruscant, apart from the Senate itself, home to the richest and most powerful beings in the entire Galaxy — including Uther Pendragon, the Chancellor himself.

"We will need to investigate the whole place and all of its surroundings, General," Dyne tells Deaton, still staring at the walls and the footprints, "We'll need much more probes than we have now."

"How many?" Alis-Sen asks.

"A lot more. We cannot presume to leave a single part of this building, and all of its connected tunnels, unsearched."

"But that could take weeks," Eri-Ka states, looking more frustrated by the second.

The ARC just turns to her and nods.

"I know, that's why I'm saying we should start the search as soon as —" the clone stops talking abruptly as the entire building shakes.

"Is that a quake?" Liam asks Stiles, his voice scared and unsure, and Stiles takes a step closer to his padawan, trying to calm the kid down with his presence.

"It could be," he's barely finished speaking when another shock shakes them again.

"It's like there's something ramming the building," Alis-Sen says, her voice alarmed.

They all hear distant klaxons, alarms going off, and sirens blaring.

"The comlinks aren't working," Valiant says then, and Deaton turns to look at Stiles and the two other Jedi, before looking back at the clone.

"Valiant, you and Dyne continue on with the search, I'll need half your squad, keep me updated."

Commander Valiant nods at him, and Deaton stars running towards the closest exit.

"You four, with me," he tells Liam, Stiles, Eri-Ka and Alis-Sen, who run along, part of the squad following them in a brisk pace.

As they head to the exit, another tremor shakes the building, and soon they find themselves among throngs of beings trying to escape 500 Republica, heading off to the skydocks.

Coming closer to the edge, Stiles can see a speeder in flames and a public transport pod going down and down and down the pit beneath the tall building — it could have been a simple accident, but that wouldn't explain the continuous tremors through the construction.

"Master, look!" Liam pulls at his sleeve, pointing up with his other hand, and Stiles looks up — the sky is still visible, but through the sheer layer of a defensive shield. The shields of the district had been raised. Above it, there is something very wrong with the skyline itself: a thousand lights kept hitting on the shield, apparently trying to wear it thin, and Stiles has a terrible feeling.

"We are under attack!" Eri-Ka exclaims, and he turns to stare at her, seeing in her eyes the same incredulity he has on his own face.

Coruscant has never been the target of an attack in this war so far. It hasn't been so for thousand of years. The Capital of the Galaxy, its heart and pockets, the one place where the now feared Jedi had their home, where the revered Senate made their decisions, where the admired and immensely respected Chancellor Uther kept the Galaxy from falling apart.

If Coruscant fell, everything was lost.

If Chancellor Pendragon should be taken or killed…

Stiles doesn't even finish that thought when Deaton is suddenly by his side.

"Stiles, you, Eri-Ka and Alis-Sen, find the Chancellor. Make sure he's safe."

He nods at his older Master, and turns to Liam, seeing fear written all over the kid's face.

"Go back to the Temple, and help in any way you can there. Do not leave the place once you get there, do you understand me, Liam?" His voice is urgent, and he knows he's not doing much to assuage the kid's fear, but better he be afraid and alive, than caught in the crossfire of an attack of this scale.

"Yes, Master," the boy tells him, breaking into a run towards the exit.

He barely catches up to the other two Jedi, and they head out towards the Senate building, determined to track down Chancellor Uther and keep him safe at all costs.

X

The way back to the Senate building is hard enough on a normal day, even if the distance is short, seeing as they were so close to 500 Republica — add to it the chaos of the attack, people running about the streets scared and afraid, and Stiles is absolutely sure they only ever made it to the Senate building out of sheer force of will and help from the Force.

The three of them rush into the place, and Stiles looks around frantically, breathing a sigh of relief when he sees a tall blond man just a few steps from them.

"King Arthur!" he shouts, and the man turns around, his handsome face closed off and determined. Stiles prays to the stars that the man won't try and fight against the invaders, or get into a fighter jet to join the defense he's sure is already being organized — he knows King Arthur has his own Army to command, but they don't need the added stress of dealing with the son of the Chancellor being in the thick of the fight.

"Master Stiles," the man nods, and Stiles looks behind him, but sees no sign of the Chancellor, "Master Alis-Sen, Master Eri-Ka," he adds at the other Jedi, and they all nod politely in greeting, but their urgency is clear on their faces.

"Have you been with the Chancellor today?"

"I haven't. He has no official appointments today."

"Do you have any idea where he could be?" Eri-Ka asks, a bit frantic, and Arthur frowns, looking grave — he knows his father's safety is imperative in a moment like this.

"He's probably at home," the man tells them, and actually raises an eyebrow when Eri-Ka curses out loud.

"500 Republica," Alis-Sen says, her voice full of frustration.

Stiles shakes his head, frustration finding its way into him too.

"We were just there, blast it all."

The three Jedi trade a resigned look, knowing they have to make their way back to where they had just come from.

"I'll find us some speeder bikes," Eri-Ka says, rushing out, Alis-Sen right behind her.

"Is the Chancellor in any real danger?" King Arthur asks, and Stiles turns to look at the man instead of rushing out too.

It's as much concern for the Galaxy as it is for his father, and Stiles swallows dryly at the desperation he recognizes in the man's voice — he has no idea what that must feel like. To feel so much for someone, to love them so deeply that their safety is more important than his own. This lack of knowledge about sentiment for a single being is a part of being a Jedi, he knows: giving in to this kind of feeling is exactly what leads them to the Dark Side, and that is something he can't even toy with in such a moment. However, he can't help but feel a bit jealous — how long has it been since he even thought of his father in any way? Of his homeland, of the child he once called his friend, of the man who saved him from a doomed ship? Being a padawan had been the first step into making him into what he is now, but becoming a Knight, and a Master, and teaching a padawan of his own had changed him deeply — he couldn't afford to try and teach Liam something he didn't live himself, so he let go of all those feeling and memories. He was a Jedi, first and foremost — King Arthur was a warrior, but he was also a son, and that realization stung fiercely within him.

"We will find him, your Majesty," he tells Arthur in the most reassuring voice he can muster — King Arthur is savvy enough in politics to know that any attack to Coruscant would have at its heart an attempt to take their leader away from them, the one man capable of reassuring the people of the Galaxy that they had a chance of winning this war, because his sense of duty and honor wouldn't let him settle for anything else. For all his failings, for all that many people disagreed with him on many issues — Stiles himself among them — Uther Pendragon is far beyond a simple ruler, he is a symbol of all they are fighting for, and the Jedi would lay down their lives by the thousands to save him, for saving him meant saving democracy itself.

"I am coming with you," the King states, and Stiles refrains from rolling his eyes, but just barely — he admires King Arthur immensely, and they share many views on many things, or so he would believe from the on-goings of the Senate he hears about even when he's away, but the man rushes into danger, seeming to be attracted to it like a moth to a flame, and this is not the moment for it. This is what the Jedi try to avoid by forfeiting their bonds to anyone outside the Jedi Order — the lack of better judgment, the rush to leave behind their own obligations to help the ones they care about.

"With all due respect, your Majesty, there is no one better equipped to guard the Chancellor than the Jedi. Three Masters will be with him at all times, and we will keep him safe. Your responsibility is to coordinate the counterattack we'll surely need as soon as this chaos is past us. You are much more useful to us here, in the Senate, protecting the ones who can't protect themselves, and available for the fight after it than you are by the Chancellor's side." He puts emphasis on the words, reminding the King that is not about his father, but about the man who is an icon for the whole Republic, "This is our duty. Chancellor Uther is the heart of the Republic, and we are sworn to defend it to the very end."

The King merely nods at him then, looking angry, but also determined, just in time for Eri-Ka to call him from the steps, speeder bikes waiting for them. Stiles nods at him and runs out, but just as he's leaving, Arthur calls out to him again.

"Master Stiles!" He stops and turns, and in that moment, Stiles doesn't see the King, doesn't see the politician or the warrior: he sees a son, and it breaks his heart, "Protect him," he asks, and Stiles faces him unflinchingly.

"With my own life, your Majesty," he promises the man in a solemn tone, and turns to leave, not waiting for an answer.

The longer they take to reach the Chancellor, the more danger he's in.

Their way back to 500 Republica is even worse than it had been before, because the attack on their shield isn't relenting at all, and Stiles can sense the fear and despair of the population around him like a buzz on his skin.

They get off their bikes long minutes later, rushing to the Chancellor's apartment, only stopping when the three of them run into the Chancellor's Red Guards at his door. The men and women of the Red Guard are chosen and trained by the finest warriors of Camelot, Uther's home planet, and they wear their own steel in their weapons and armor, resistant even to the strikes of lightsabers. They would lay down their lives to save the Chancellor's — but even they are not as good as the Jedi, or as well prepared to defend their political leader.

"Where's the Chancellor?" Eri-Ka demands, and the Guards only stare at her for a moment, their swords at their sides, trying to look intimidating — which would work on many people, but not on three Jedi Masters.

"She asked where is the Chancellor?" Alis-Sen asks then, and Stiles almost takes a step back — of the three of them, Alis-Sen is the one with the sunny disposition and kind word for everyone. To see her lose her patience is akin to see the beginnings of a hurricane when you are right in the middle of it — it's a sight to behold, and also deadly, her blue skin tinted darker around her cheeks, her two long lekku seeming to vibrate in anger, and the Red Guard right in front of her seems to question his orders for a second as Eri-Ka smirks at him.

"This way," he ends up saying, and guides them through the apartment to a vast main room. The far wall follows the curve of the building, and the glass lets them see through the clouds and the sky, the shield over them clearly faltering at times, not able to hold up against the relentless attack of the Separatist forces.

Chancellor Pendragon is pacing the room, and doesn't even look up when they enter. His regal posture immediately reminds Stiles of King Arthur, and he can see the resemblance clearly for a second, but while Arthur always seems ready to break out in a kind word, Uther's face is like a storm, his steps sure and heavy.

"Why is he still here?" Eri-Ka asks Senator Aredian, Uther's closest adviser, and the man shakes his head, seeming just at odds with the Chancellor's decision to stay as the Jedi are right now.

"He refuses to leave," the man's voice is filled with concern, and Stiles steps away from them to intercept the man pacing the room.

"Supreme Chancellor, we are here to escort you to a shelter."

They aren't strangers, Uther and him — the man himself had commended him for several battles and had been partially responsible for his Master status thanks to services rendered to the Republic — and yet, he barely looks at him for a second, stopping to regard the Jedi in the room for a moment, before simply going around Stiles and continuing his pacing.

"I thank you for your concern, Master Stiles, but that won't be necessary. I am needed precisely where I am now to coordinate the counterattack, and to keep up with the communication at the front."

"Supreme Chancellor, you will have access to means of communications at the bunker," Alis-Sen reminds him in her most persuasive tone, but the man ignores her completely.

"Uther, this is the very reason why we had so many security drills the past few years. We must get you to a safe place," Senator Aredian pleads with him, but the Chancellor ignores him too, continuing with his pacing, way too close to the windows for Stiles to feel comfortable.

"Chancellor, please, listen to reason," Alis-Sen tries, and the man stops again, his whole face contorting in anger and pride, his back to the window, facing the room.

"I shall not be run out of my own home in the face of danger. The people of the Galaxy do not put their trust in me because they know I'll run at the first sign of peril, they do it because they know I'll stand my ground until—"

They never do get to hear until what, because at that moment there's an explosion — the final pieces of the defensive shield around the windows collapsing with a deafening noise.

"DOWN!" Stiles yells, throwing himself over the Chancellor and pinning him to the floor.

"Unhand me this second!" the man yells at him, just as the window explodes into a million pieces, and Stiles uses the Force to protect Uther from the rubble and the explosion itself.

When he dares look up again, an assault craft, ready to deploy its droids, is approaching the building at maximum speed.

He hears Eri-Ka gasping behind him, but he wastes no time in getting the Chancellor off the floor, looking around the room quickly, and seeing Alis-Sen getting up too, while helping Senator Aredian.

"Are you ready to go now, sir?" he asks Uther, who is getting pieces of glass off his robes as they all rush off the room and into the corridor. The Red Guards make their way into the apartment, and Stiles trusts they'll be able to hold off some of the droid attacks, but not all of them — they are as far from safety as they could be.

"We can't take the speeder bikes again, we'll never make it," Alis-Sen says as they rush to a platform, and Eri-Ka is running at full speed in front of them. At some point, Senator Aredian had managed to compose himself, and now stands beside Uther, taking over the task of helping him along, leaving Stiles free to try and figure their way out of this.

He runs to Eri-Ka, and she has her comlink activated.

"Deaton, Grievous is onworld," she tells the man on the other side, and Stiles's eyes go wide with the information — that is why she had gasped back at the apartment.

If that monster is capable of infiltrating 500 Republica, Stiles is pretty sure they can't just take the Chancellor to a public shelter, or even use the prepared route for his escape. Staring ahead as Eri-Ka and Deaton try and find a way out of it, Stiles finds the closest turbolift to inspect it.

"How far down does this go?" he asks no one in particular, and it's Aredian who answers.

"As far as the lowest level. Why?" Stiles doesn't answer him directly, but turns to Alis-Sen, who is now hovering near Eri-Ka.

"If we can reach the platform, we can take him by train. It won't get us to the bunker itself, but we can figure our way out from there, it's as close as we'll be able to get."

The other two Jedi stare at him and nod at the same time, Alis-Sen rushing to help Aredian and Uther into the turbolift before anyone else.

On the comlink, Eri-Ka is informing Deaton of their new plan.

"He'll meet us at the train."

Stiles nods gravely, and tries to find his center in the Force, his calm and peace to face whatever will come their way now — Grievous is on their planet. He can't even start to understand the repercussions this will have on the war should they fail their mission and lose the Chancellor, but he does his best to ignore it all — it's no use wondering about the future or thinking back to the past: there's only the present.

When they finally get to the lowest level, Deaton is already waiting for them there, ready to help and board the Chancellor into one of the cars — the one with less civilians in it.

"This makes no sense," Deaton says quietly beside Stiles, already on the train, tracks held up by the best technology available on the Galaxy, running fast over the canyon underneath, and hoping for the best. Eri-Ka and Alis-Sen are each stationed at one of the doors of the car, while Aredian and Uther sit close by — the former looking grave, but ready to defend his close friend, and the latter looking more shocked than anything else.

"What doesn't?" Stiles asks, and Deaton's frown deepens, as he turns to stare right at Stiles, still talking quietly, clearly not wanting the politicians to hear what he has to say.

"Not everything can be traced back to Count Peter, Stiles. How did Grievous know to attack 500 Republica, and not the Senate? The Count is otherwise engaged at the moment, and there is no way for him to simply know that the Chancellor wouldn't be at work right now. This makes no sense."

Stiles looks at the Master Jedi for a second, searching for what he is not saying, like he used to do when he was the man's padawan, and tried to find out more about things he shouldn't know anything about at all.

"It makes no sense, unless someone from his close circle leaked the information."

Deaton doesn't answer immediately, but he sighs tiredly a few seconds later.

"We all knew Darth Sidious had infiltrated the highest levels of the Senate, we just didn't know how far it could reach," he stops talking for a moment, looking at the Chancellor sitting across from them, the person they had to protect at all costs, "Now we do."

Stiles doesn't answer, and quietly the two of them watch the city passing by fast — suddenly, Deaton frowns, looking out the window more closely, and Stiles looks out too: two droid fighters are coming fast towards them, trying to overtake the train.

Stiles takes a step back from the windows just in time, as cannon fire from one of the fighters hits the side of the train they were in just a second before, and he rushes to the Chancellor's side.

"Stiles, Alis-Sen, take the Chancellor and Senator Aredian to the front car, now!"

"It's full! I don't think we can get through it!" Alis-Sen says, but Stiles is already working on the doors, using the Force to pry them open, and pulling Aredian and Uther with him. He goes ahead, pushing people out of the way, and praying they won't get caught in the crossfire, or get hurt because of them, but at this moment, he has to make Uther his topmost priority — he has no time to think of the civilians who will fall in case this goes badly.

Behind him, Chancellor Uther's steps are as quick as they can be, Aredian behind him, ushering the man, voice trembling in fear as he asks Uther to move along, as Alis-Sen brings up the rear, shouting at the people in the cars to keep calm, and get down to protect themselves. At the front car, as far away from the battle as they can get, Alis-Sen and Stiles trade a look, putting both men they are charged to protect behind them, and getting their lightsabers out and turning them on — they should make up a backup plan, but in a moving train full of civilians there's not much room to improvise. He'll just have to keep on holding hope that Deaton and Eri-Ka will be able to stop the attacks from where they are.

The train shakes again, and Stiles chances a look outside — vulture droids are chasing the ship now, luckily keeping on attacking the car with Deaton in it, and the train hasn't yet stopped moving. If only they can make it to their station, they may even make out of it alive.

Stiles doesn't know for how long they stand there, guarding the two politicians, and hoping everything will be okay, but he does know that no second feels longer than when the four of them hear a crash on the roof of the train, and then steps — measured, practiced, as if made by heavy machinery, pacing down the length of the train before jumping in.

General Grievous is in the train with them.

It irks Stiles to no end knowing he's stuck in a defensive position, not able to go outside and help his former Master and his friend, but his mission is to keep the Chancellor safe, and should Grievous manage to overcome Deaton and Eri-Ka, he and Alis-Sen are his last line of defense.

The train jolts once again, coming to a halt with a screeching sound, and Stiles can hear the sounds of lightsabers over their heads, on the roof of the train. Suddenly, there's a crashing sound, and steps hurrying down and towards them, and he and Alis-Sen get ready to fight to their last breath — when the door is blasted open, Deaton is staring at them, Eri-Ka behind him, both with blood on their robes and faces, but mostly fine.

"Let's go. You must get them to safety," Deaton says tiredly, and they put away their weapons, hurrying out.

Finally, they'll be able to do their duty, and guard the Supreme Chancellor at the bunker, where he should have been all along.

Before hurrying off to do their duty, Stiles stops near Deaton, such a clear question in his eyes the man doesn't even need him to voice it.

"Grievous fell down the canyon."

"But why didn't he just blow the train up to pieces? He had more than enough chance to do so."

Master Deaton scowls before answering.

"Your guess is as good as mine, Stiles. Now, hurry. Stay with the Chancellor until we have cleared all of this," he says, gesturing to the chaos around them, and Stiles nods before running after Alis-Sen, Eri-Ka, Pendragon and Aredian.

He doesn't fail to notice that the Korun hadn't said what he was thinking, and it makes Stiles apprehensive.

What suspicion could be so bad that his own former Master didn't want him to consider?

X

There are times when all Master Alis-Sen can think about is the days before the war, when she could still just be a Security expert on the Temple, helping people along and keeping them safe, doing her best as a Sentinel, away from the fighting and the deaths.

It was, of course, not real — the illusion that everything was peaceful around them, an illusion kept by the Jedi at the Temple, but it served her well for a long time.

Now, things are different, and she finds herself more often than not with a lightsaber in hand, having to fight for her life as much as for the people around her, defending her friends from their deaths, defending a Republic that not many of them even believe in anymore — but the alternative is just so much darker, and so much worse, none of them even dare contemplate it.

The bunker they are in to protect the Chancellor isn't very big, but it serves its purpose well — there's a small niche for the communication center, a small space with chairs and two small cots for resting, provisions for weeks if need be, and room enough to hold the security needed in the room with him comfortably.

Right then, Senator Aredian is sitting on one of the cots, face withdrawn and pale, even if he keeps his head held high, bruising along his neck from the impacts they suffered on the train, despite the fact that they hadn't even come close to Grievous.

She trembles to think what would have happened to them if they had to actually face him.

Chancellor Uther stands regal against the communications console, inactive on his end at the moment, lest someone try and track him through it, but paying close attention to the movement on the screens all the same — should something go wrong, they'll know just as soon as it happens. This one-way mode of communication is one she helped make up herself, and she's quite proud of the final result — she just wishes they hadn't put it to the test in such a bleak moment.

In the safe room with them, there are four Red Guards — with four times that outside — trained by King Arthur's forces, the best of the best where simple warriors are concerned. They stay near the only door, ready to guard it with their own lives for the Chancellor. Along with the sixteen Red Guards posted along the corridor leading to the bunker, a whole score of clone troopers are guarding the outermost entry to it — they would already be as safe as they could be with that number of soldiers, troopers and warriors alone.

Eri-Ka is nearest to the door, just a few steps behind the Red Guards — her lightsaber is in her hand, and she's taken to lighting it up and waving it as if practicing a strike, and then making the yellow light go away again every few minutes. Her long blond hair is tied at the base of her neck, so it won't get in the way if they have to fight, and even her dark-brown robes seem to be thrumming with electricity — she's as beautiful as she's deadly, and has quite a problem with her temper, the main reason why she's never had a padawan to train (even if Alis-Sen has the strong suspicion she plays her volatile temper up a bit precisely not to have to train anyone). She turns her lightsaber on again, and Alis-Sen can hear Senator Aredian sighing at her back, prompting her to look at Eri-Ka with an eyebrow raised, but the woman ignores her silent plea, smirking instead.

"Knock it off, Eri-Ka," Stiles tells her then, and the woman rolls her eyes, but complies with the request — Stiles just has that way about him, in which he and Eri-Ka always seem to be on the wrong side of their roles, as if he's the older, more experienced guardian, and she's the one who started fighting way too soon.

As young as Stiles is, he's the one among the three of them who has already been training a padawan for over a year — also the one to have been Knighted at nineteen, and become a Master at only twenty-five. Being trained by Master Deaton himself, Alis-Sen knows many Jedi had feared for Stiles's alliances for quite a while when he became an independent agent, and she knows the Council saw fit to pair him up with her or Eri-Ka, or both, in those first few years because they felt he wasn't ready at all — but their fear, or Deaton's fear, of what could happened should he continue on training the young human outweighed the risk of having a Knight so young.

Everyone in the Temple knows of his story, of course, but Stiles himself never seems to be quite aware of the admiration he caused in the younger members of their Order, and the fondness the older ones have always had for him — a child brought into the Temple out of death's grip itself, rescued by the Order from an Outer Rim planet with no Force Sensitive history, picked to train with Master Deaton at only twelve — Stiles ignores all of that in lieu of just doing what is right, and keeping himself out of trouble as much as he can. Tall and broad shouldered, his dark brown hair longer than it used to be, but still short, he carries himself with a certainty and a sobriety that isn't very common in someone so young. His padawan looks up to him, and his old Master is proud of him, and Alis-Sen is happy to count herself among his friends.

If there's anyone in the world she would pick to be with her in such a dire situation, it would be Stiles and Eri-Ka — maybe ARC Scott, if the Order should permit it — because, for all that Stiles is all seriousness and sobriety at the Temple, out there, in the campaigns and sieges, among the ones he now calls friends, and who, she knows, many people consider just a little better than droids, Stiles is more carefree and happy than he ever is when he's at the Temple. She knows, from talking to Deaton and Master Kilgharrah, when Stiles was a new Knight and traveling with her still, that he is more sensitive to the Force than most, and she also knows that being in Coruscant weighs on him much more than her or Eri-Ka, or even Liam, young as he is.

For most Jedi, the Temple is their home and place of peace, but she has a feeling that, as much as Stiles wishes it could be that for him too, out there, in the whole vast Galaxy, is where he's the happiest.

He stands now at the center of the room, eyes glued to the door, lightsaber at the ready should they need it, and she lets herself smile for a second before teasing him.

"Is Roscoe ready?" she asks, and the young man turns to playfully glare at her, throwing his lightsaber from one hand to the other, and pretending he isn't blushing just a bit.

"Yes, she is," he answers, and smiles at her too, before turning to look on ahead, leaving her to smile to herself with his shy demeanor at something so simple — when he had gone to meditate and create the crystal for his lightsaber, for some reason he had come back convinced the crystal was a girl, and he decided to call her Roscoe. Every Jedi knows their weapon is their life, and creating new lightsabers had never been something one does lightly, and even more so these days, when the time to meditate and create the crystal out of the Force itself isn't always possible. For Stiles, however, his weapon is an entity on its own, and he treats it with love and respect — something he has tried to pass along to his own padawan, but the kid doesn't seem to have quite grasped it, because he still laughs every time someone mentions Roscoe to Stiles.

She knows that even that small piece of banter is irritating both the Chancellor and the Senator in there with them, but it helps the three of them, reminding them that, at the very least, they are together. She's aware that a bond of friendship like theirs could lead them down a stray path, but she cannot help the fact that she loves the two Jedi in the room with her as much as she can allow herself to love anyone as an individual at all, being a Jedi, and she hopes that when the time comes, and should it ever happen, she'll let them go into the Force without breaking her own heart.

It's a risk she's willing to take, and she knows both Eri-Ka and Stiles take it too.

She's the one closest to the Chancellor — she, too, is staring at the door the whole time, ready to defend him if need be. Stiles, with his back to her, is closest to Senator Aredian where the man is sitting off to a side of the room, and Eri-Ka soon starts pacing the space between the Red Guards framing the door.

It's when Eri-Ka stops and turns to stare at the door that Alis-Sen frowns at it too, Stiles with his blue lightsaber already on, and they turn theirs on too.

"I can feel something," Stiles says, and they can feel it as well — a disturbance in the Force, not quite darkness, but something like the void of anything at all.

She can feel the Chancellor turning around to face the door too, and Senator Aredian getting up from his cot, cortosi sword in his hand, just as Uther draws his own out.

They expect an attack at the door — blaster bolts, plasma bombs, ramming into it — if anyone should come to attack them.

What none of them expected is the door sliding open by simple command, revealing a blood bath on the outside.

Framed by the door is the most terrifying being in the whole Galaxy — General Grievous himself. His red eyes seem to glow with pure evil in a mask of black armor, blood sliding down his durasteel covered body and armorweave cape, as he inspects the interior of the room in a dead stare.

Behind him there are three monstrosities she dares not call creatures — over six feet tall, with red capes like the ones their master is carrying on his own shoulders, the infamous MagnaGuards flank him like loyal dogs — one of them dropping a Red Guard to the floor right as Grievous takes a step into the room, the man's head separated from his body by the MagnaGuard's hands alone. She and Stiles tighten their protection around Uther, and Senator Aredian runs to them, sword ready to attack, as willing to die for their ruler as the two of them.

Eri-Ka is the first one to attack, jumping up and over Grievous head, trying to stab him on the head from the ceiling, but one of the MagnaGuards jumps up too, snatching her from the air, and throwing her down. She leaps to her feet again, but the droid seemed to have expected that, and he simply holds his electrostaff up, tilting it towards her trajectory, and Alis-Sen has to bite back a scream of despair when Eri-Ka falls on his weapon. She still manages to get him on the legs with her yellow lightsaber, but the monster shakes his weapon free, and takes another step in as Grievous admires his pet's handiwork — Alis-Sen could have sworn he is smirking behind that mask. Eri-Ka's body hits the floor with a deafening thud, blood marring her robes and staining the floor, and Alis-Sen has to use all of her self-restraint not to run to her side.

The Red Guards are the next to fall — too stunned by his easy entrance to react as fast as the Jedi, they attack in unison against Grievous, and he swats them away like flies, a lightsaber in each of his hands as he moves in and out of their range for a few seconds, cutting off their hands, and then their heads as easy as if they were made of kindling.

She has never felt fear or despair this deep — she's not used to losing because, so far, she's never lost a battle. Stiles is just a step ahead of her, and they know they have to take the Chancellor away from there, but how?

Suddenly, the odds seem impossible again.

Stiles takes a step ahead, then, and Grievous steps forward to meet him, side stepping his first thrust, and turning to attack him the next second, but Stiles manages to jump away, making Grievous turn his back on her and her charges.

She risks a glance at her back, and she just knows Aredian would die to protect the man who was once his King, who is now his close friend and the Supreme Chancellor of the Galaxy, and it may be the only chance they get. She jumps ahead too, drawing the attention of the three MagnaGuards as Stiles whirls around Grievous, flashy style of fighting designed to attract attention and not to really win, because maybe, maybe, if they can keep Grievous and his MagnaGuards occupied for long enough, Uther and Aredian can make their way out of the bunker and into safety — it's a lot to wish for, but it's all they have.

She twists to the side as one of the droids manages to catch her cloak, and another one darts by her, running full tilt towards the senator.

"Do not harm the politicians!" Grievous' metallic voice barks an order, and the MagnaGuard changes tactics at the last second, going for a hand attack, instead of using its electrostaff.

Uther and Aredian clearly take that as a sign to attack too — now knowing they won't be harmed — and, together, they bring one of the droids to pieces, even if the thing doesn't stop fighting until it's chopped to bits. She manages to disable one of the droids, and keep the other one occupied for long enough that Uther is already past her, and on his way to the door — Senator Aredian stops to help her, the men's swords seeming to work better against the droids than their lightsabers, and she wants to yell at him to just leave already, but she can't, because right then Grievous seems to grow impatient in his duel with Stiles, and catches his gray robes by hand, throwing him to the floor with a sickening crack, making Stiles scream out on pain.

Aredian takes care of the last MagnaGuard, and Alis-Sen turns around just in time to see Stiles scrambling back, Grievous stalking after him, bowing down to catch Stiles's lightsaber, his Roscoe, from the floor, seeming intent to kill her friend with his own weapon.

She lunges at him, but the cyborg swats her aside, and she's on the floor beside Stiles when she sees him opening his eyes, and gasp in surprise.

Time freezes when she looks towards Grievous — his eyes widen just the slightest second, going less red, and almost blue for just for the fraction of a moment — and he seems to hesitate, before knocking Stiles out with the hilt of his lightsaber.

She looks to the door where three more MagnaGuards are keeping both Aredian and Uther occupied, and then she looks back at Grievous, again a monster with no hesitation in killing anyone who stands in his way.

She's afraid, as afraid as she could ever be, and she's desolated, with both her best friends dead right beside her, and the last thing she sees is Eri-Ka's luminous yellow blade coming towards her for a killing strike.

And then she knows no more.