A/N: I do not own Star Wars, Knights of the Old Republic 1 or 2, or any of the characters within. Nadira Obsidian is my OC version of the Exile.
Chapter 21: Echoes of Malachor
"Are the charges in place?" Nadira whispered into her commlink.
"Almost," came Mandalore's crackled response. "Putting the last one into position now. Once you give the word, I'll activate the countdown."
"Good. We're on the bridge. If we don't make contact in the next ten minutes, activate the mines and get off the ship."
"Understood. If you die, die with honor—you will be remembered, Exile. Mandalore out."
Nadira sighed. She would have preferred a more positive pep talk. Pocketing her commlink, she looked up as Visas returned from her old quarters.
"Are you good to go?" she asked.
Visas nodded in her typical solemnity. "I have done what I needed to do."
Nadira nodded. This would not be easy for the Miraluka woman and she clasped her shoulder in understanding. "It's not easy to say good-bye."
"Actually, it was oddly cleansing, like a release."
The Jedi smiled at her friend. "Then I am glad for it." Her eyes flitted over to the bridge door. "Shall we pay him a visit then?"
Visas nodded in response, drawing her double-bladed saber and falling in line behind the Exile.
The doors opened readily for them, and they walked casually across the expanse of the bridge. From the second the doors parted a flood of memories swept over Nadira, flashing through her mind in rapid sequence as she followed the familiar trail to the viewport. She resisted the urge to brush consoles with her fingers as she passed, fighting to hold her focus on the Sith Lord ahead of them.
Darth Nihilus stood at the observation platform watching the view before him, seemingly unaware of their intrusion. His bulk seemed to extend beyond the confines of his frame to fill the space of the bridge with a consuming malevolence. It brushed at the framework that was warped by scoring and ruptures from past battles, exposing the interior to the vacuum of space. Or at least it should have. Nadira couldn't tell what was keeping the ship together, though she wagered a guess that it was only the will of the Sith Lord commanding it. A hissing sound filled the air around them, indecipherable, then slowly forming words within her mind.
"…Welcome back, General Obsidian…" The ghostly voice seemed to flow through her like a whisper of energy just before it was consumed by the void. She felt more than heard it. And at its brush came violent flashes of her past, battering her in sharp contrast to the soft touch of the voice. "…it has been many years since I was honored with your presence…"
"Captain Sorell, I wish I could say I was glad to see you again," she answered.
She felt his chuckle ripple through her. "…So you do remember me…"
"That day is imprinted somewhat indelibly in my mind."
"…and it would be too…" he mused. "… I hope you like what I've done with our ship…though it isn't quite the way you remember…"
"It could use a new coat of paint, I believe."
"…Perhaps…But then again it will always carry the taint of Malachor no matter who attempts to salvage it…It is odd, standing where you once stood as you ordered the planet's destruction… as you ordered our deaths…" His presence swelled to fill the air around him, as if he flexed his Force powers. He drew in a deep, satisfied breath. "…What must it have felt like? …the power you held over all those lives…the rush you must have felt as you snuffed them out…I can only imagine the power you must have experienced…"
Nadira recoiled, flinching as the memory attacked her. She could not resist its pull as it forced itself on her at Nihilus' command. She watched helplessly as she once more ordered Bao-Dur to activate the mass shadow generators, sundering the planet, killing her own men along with the enemy they faced. Even the memory was enough to bring her to her knees as her past self fell unconscious to the ground from so many ties cut at once.
"…such power…" he sighed in exhilaration.
"Nadira!" Visas called moving to aid her.
Nihilus flinched as if noticing Marr for the first time. He turned. His anger was evident as the air charged around them. "…I see you have found my lost pet…such insolence…" He caught Visas in stasis as he closed the distance between them, his presence with a crushing weight stealing their breath away.
"This ends here," Nadira gasped out, trying to rise to her feet. "I will not let you destroy Telos." But her challenge sounded weak at best.
"…Amusing to think you can stop me…Unlike the last time we met, I am in command now…what little authority you may carry will not stay my hand…"
"He doesn't understand," Visas forced out as she struggled for breath. "He thinks he cannot die…" Her voice cut off abruptly as he whirled on her.
Nadira gathered all the strength she could, wresting herself from his grip, from the past. Calling her blades to her hands, she rushed at him.
Nihilus barely moved, but still caught her blades just in time. "…You cannot fight your past…you cannot undo what you created in us…in those who survived…"
"But we can defeat you," she replied.
"…Your doubt says otherwise…"
Visas joined her in the fight and soon they were weaving, dodging, swinging, jumping. Exchanging blows in a heated cadence, a spectator would have had difficulty discerning the combatants in the tangle of light. Both Nadira and Visas were masterful fighters. But Nihilus was holding his own against both with what seemed a minimal effort.
Nadira's movements began to lapse as exhaustion set in. Nihilus threw Force lightning at her which she barely blocked in time.
"Nadira—" Visas called in concern, but Nihilus motioned to her, slipping past her defenses with the gesture and bearing down on her mind. She gasped in fear and pain. "He's…too strong…" Her voice trailed off as she fell to her knees.
"…You are my slave…" he hissed darkly. "…Mine…now and forever…" He stroked her face.
Visas cringed at his touch but did not move from where she knelt.
He could tell she was resisting and pushed harder. "…Yes…"
"Yes…my Master…" she gasped, voice utterly devoid of hope.
"No!" Nadira cried as she slashed down at him, cutting deeply into his arm. The Dark Lord shrieked and rounded on the Exile who faced him with determined strength. "I will not let you enslave her again!"
Enraged, Nihilus threw Visas against the far wall, knocking her unconscious, then spun barely in time to block Nadira's attack.
"…I do not surrender my possessions to anyone…" he seethed furiously.
They dueled across the bridge of the Ravager, neither one seeming to gain an advantage over the other. Finally depleted of strength, Nadira overextended her attack. He caught her under the ribs, then spun kicking out as he did, catching her in the jaw with his booted heel. Both blows dazed her for a moment. But that was all he needed. She gasped as he wrenched her into the air, then catapulted her back against the jutting communications console. The corner caught her in the center of her back, impacting her wound as she collided with it. Her scream rent the air, taking all her strength with it as it left her body. Then she hung limp in his Force grip. She tried to focus her eyes on Nihilus as he approached at a leisurely pace.
"…I should thank you for granting me this strength…if not for your actions at Malachor, none of this would have been possible…" he gloated. "…I want you to know how grateful I am…"
As his dark figure seemed to engulf her conscious mind, her heart sank. He was right—after all the deaths she'd caused, she deserved to die. And this death would be more merciful by far than those she had dealt to so many others. But Telos did not deserve this end. Nor did Visas or any of her companions. But she could do nothing now but watch helplessly, dangling from the Sith's grasp as the end came and darkness fell.
Atton raced through the corridors of the warship, following both the trail of bodies and his Force sense to find Nadira. He could feel her distress surging through the Force. His heart hammered as he moved through the ship, chafing at each second lost, at every wrong turn. Finally stopping at a junction, he carefully examined two paths, unwilling to take a wrong turn and lose more time. One led into a room, a meditation chamber of sorts it seemed. As he was turning to study the other, white hot agony brought him to his knees. Dazed and gasping, he cast about for his attacker. But no one was there. A cursory examination of his body told him he was not injured either. His eyes widened, blood draining from his face as he realized the pain's source. Nadira… Tearing down the second path, he found himself on the bridge. At the end of the room, he could make out two figures against the battle scene obscuring the starscape. One figure loomed against the darkness advancing on the second, slight and weak. Nadira! She hung suspended against a comms console, features pale as she gasped frantically for breath, but otherwise, she did not struggle. Darth Nihilus approached her, his form shifting as he did.
"…I want you to know how grateful I am…" the hissing voice seemed to say. "…And once I consume your life energies, no force will be left in this galaxy to oppose me…"
Dark tendrils reached out like tentacles from the Sith Lord, coiling around her arms and legs. As they wrapped her in their grip, her entire body began to glow. Nadira went rigid, shuddering as one central tendril reached out to pierce her chest. Her light began to strobe as if connected to her heartbeat. The span between each strobe lengthened, her pulse dying away slowly. Her head lolled forward against her chest as her life started draining from her body.
"…Yes…" Nihilus purred in triumph.
Suddenly, he was flung to the other side of the platform, crashing through a navigation display as he went. As he rose to his feet, he saw a man standing between him and his quarry, barely concealed fury in his eyes.
"…Another of her pawns…" he growled irritably. "…fighting in vain to stop the inevitable…"
"Big words coming from a Sith that just got schooled by a rookie," Atton sneered.
"…You cannot stop me…" Nihilus retorted as though amused. "…You cannot save her…"
"I'm afraid you'll have to prove that to convince me."
"…If you insist…" He was on him in an instant, assaulting him with every attack conceivable.
Atton did an impressive job holding his own against the Sith, meeting him blow for blow.
Nihilus became frustrated, afraid that this neophyte Jedi might have the strength to defeat him. "…She has trained you well…I suppose you may think you can save her…"
"That's the plan," he answered. "You're sharp for a Sith who can't even speak."
"…She remembers this place well…It pleases me that she will die here…the same place she should have died ten years ago…"
Atton's swings became more aggressive despite himself. He knew Nihilus was baiting him. But his fear for her weakness coupled with his knowledge that he alone could save her only drove his urgent need to reach her.
The Sith didn't ease up. "…Her pain even now is considerable…It might be a kindness for you to let me finish what I'd started…put her out of her misery…Don't you want her suffering to end…?"
"It will end as soon as I deal with you!" Atton lunged at Nihilus who barely stepped out of his path in time, throwing a Force push at him as he went. Atton flew forward, reaching out to arrest his momentum. When he finally stopped he rolled onto his back, only to roll away before the Sith's red blade could impale him. Then again. And again. Getting enough distance, he started crawling away from Nihilus. But the Dark Lord was too quick catching him by the throat and lifting him off the ground.
"…Die in the knowledge that you have failed her, and once I have consumed your life force I will use it to consume hers…" His dark Force tendrils constricted his form as he began to siphon Atton's life. The pilot raged against it but couldn't keep up the fight for long as his strength began to ebb. But then Nihilus froze. As he stiffened, Atton looked down to see a violet blade protruding from the Sith's chest. Atton fell to the ground as his attacker's grip slackened, and after a moment, Nihilus joined him there. Atton gasped grateful lungfuls of air as his eyes rose. Visas Marr hovered over them, lightsaber swaying as she panted with exertion, her face twisted with guilt and relief.
"Thanks," Atton breathed before rolling onto his knees and rushing to Nadira's side.
As he raced away, Visas fell to her knees beside the corpse of her fallen Master, dazed in horror at her actions for a few moments before the spell started to slip away. Hesitantly, she reached out for the mask that hid his face. Pausing in fear, she clenched her fists.
"I have to see…with the Force and my eyes," she whispered, her own voice steeling her resolve.
As she struggled to find closure, Atton skidded to his knees next to Nadira. As his eyes fell on her, his blood ran cold. Her skin was clammy and quickly moving from pale to translucent, its color mottling in wake of the change. She took her breaths in short, ragged gasps, her entire body trembling violently where she lay. Her heavy-lidded eyes hadn't moved, seeming not to register his presence.
Cursing, Atton drew the vial from his pocket and fed it into an injection gun he'd swiped after a wrong turn into the ship's lab. Quickly, he pulled her into his arms. But at his touch, she started flailing. Though weak, she had more strength than she should have in her condition. Atton's heart panged—one of the last symptoms before the toxin claimed its victim was fevered fits. But she shouldn't be this close… Then he noticed his arm supporting her back felt wet. Pulling it free for a second, he spared it a glance. His breath hitched in his chest—the sleeve of his shirt was soaked through with her blood. A corresponding blood trail between her and the console she'd been battered against confirmed his fears: the infected area had been ruptured and was seeping into her blood stream. It wouldn't be long before the toxin reached her heart.
"Nadira," he called to her as she writhed, trying to hang onto her without hurting her. She didn't respond. Her eyes were wide open now, bright with fever, round with fear.
"Let go of me," she slurred her words heavily. That she could get them out at all was a marvel. But it was clear she didn't recognize him. He tried to administer the cure, but she was thrashing too much to reach her wound. One wild swing of her arm would have sent the injection gun flying but for his firm grasp. He had to get through to her now or risk breaking the vial.
He clasped her head from behind with a hand, touching his forehead to hers, and forcing his breathing to level out. "Nadira." His voice was calmer now and she stilled at the familiar sound.
She squinted, trying to get her eyes to focus, but still took a few moments to respond. "…A-Atton?"
His smile was sad. "Hey," he barely got out around the lump in his throat, "everything's gonna be alright."
She studied him as though still unsure it was truly him or not. Then she yelped weakly as he injected the serum into the wound.
He winced. "…I'm sorry…I know it hurts, but this is gonna save you…"
But she shook her head and stared at him again. "…tho-thought I …l-lost you…" Her hand reached up, tugging at him with feeble motions. He leaned forward as she pulled him. Then to his surprise, she levered herself up, closing the distance between them and pressing her lips to his. He adjusted his hold to support her, almost losing himself for a moment in their kiss. Her lips were soft as they brushed his tenderly, and he responded in kind. But then his heart broke as she shivered and fell limp, too weak to hold her head up anymore. He cradled her closer to him to stave off the chill from the hull. Her eyes were almost too heavy to hold open. "…Nihilus…couldn't stop him…" she murmured.
"He's dead now," Atton assured her, pulling her hair from her eyes. "Don't talk. Save your strength."
"…none left…"
"You promised me, remember?" he said, almost snapping in his fear.
She paused a second before nodding weakly. But he could see her light fading fast.
"…What are you doing up there?!" a voice crackled over the commlink. Mandalore's voice jolted both Visas and Atton back to their surroundings. "You time's almost up! We need to get off this ship! Now!"
Visas shot to her feet and began tugging at Atton, but he shook her off.
"She's not stable—I can't move her yet!"
"The ship is mined. If we don't leave now, that blast will kill her either way."
Atton looked from Visas to Nadira. Her eyes had almost fallen shut. "Hey, don't you check out on me!" he jostled her slightly as he rose to his feet.
Nadira blinked twice, clinging feebly to consciousness. She squeezed his hand and his heart kicked up a notch. "Hang on," he said, kissing her forehead, then nodding to Visas to lead the way.
The group made a mad dash for the bridge door and didn't see Nihilus' body dissolving in a blood-red mist and tangle of Sith energy behind them. The black hole that had once been the Dark Lord collapsed, his insatiable hunger quenched at last as it fed upon itself.
As they neared the hanger bay, Nadira's breathing became increasingly shallow. But they hurried on, ignoring any distractions, desperate to make it to the shuttle where their unlikely comrade paced in agitation.
Mandalore had fired up the engines and was anxiously waiting for them. "Come on," he muttered under his breath. "I don't wanna have to leave you behind. Confounded Jedi." The second Atton and Visas appeared around the corner, he began to motion frantically. "Move it! We've got three minutes to clear the blast radius!"
He moved the second they were aboard, not even waiting for them to strap in. Jostled severely, Atton snapped at Mandalore.
"Be careful! Nadira's in rough shape back here!"
"She can thank me or file a complaint about my piloting skills later," Mandalore retorted.
"If she lasts that long!"
"Listen, lovebird, if I don't get us out of range in time, you can bet she won't!"
Atton bit his tongue, turning back to Nadira. "Come on, hold onto me," he encouraged her quietly. "You're gonna make it." When she didn't respond, he added, "You said it yourself: you're stubborn."
Her lips twitched into as much of a smile as she could muster. Through the haze, she was lucky just to make out what he was saying. But just hearing his voice helped her to fight.
Visas watched the two in silent worry. She hadn't realized Nadira'd been injured or she would have helped her the moment Nihilus had been struck down. But the dark side had saturated the ship to say nothing of her conflicted feelings from her torn allegiances. She hadn't sensed the Exile's danger till she'd seen the look on Atton's face. As she sat and watched them, she silently fed strength into them both as she examined the Exile. Shaking her head at last, she turned to Atton.
"What happened? Her injuries from my—from Darth Nihilus are not that grave."
Atton looked from Visas to Nadira. She squeezed his hand in response, too weak to speak now.
Atton swallowed. "She had been tortured by the Sith a while ago, and given Destiny's Vengeance."
Visas blanched. "And she survived?"
"She'd been controlling it as best she could before, but…" his voice trailed off a moment. "We're gonna be cutting it close."
"Hold on!" came Mandalore's sudden shout from the pilot's seat.
Then a brilliant flash of light burned their eyes, making them sting. Seconds later, the shuttle rocked violently in the wake of the blast wave. Alarms and claxons blared but were drowned in the deafening roar, only gradually discernible as their ears stopped ringing. Atton fought to keep Nadira from being tossed about, tightening his grip and hunching over her protectively. At length, the ship finally stilled. Everyone looked up hesitantly, afraid to breathe. Visas and Atton flinched as Mandalore's exhilarated laughter shattered the silence.
"Just like the old days, huh, General?" he called over his shoulder.
Atton looked down to see Nadira's reaction, but started when he saw her eyes were closed. Quickly checking for her vital signs, he sighed wearily to feel a thready pulse. "Please don't give up on me now," he begged, clutching her to his chest.