Green laser-blasts scattered over Marasiah's forward shields, blinding her and filling her cockpit with alarms. She wrenched her fighter hard to port, out of the deadly hail, but the alarms kept wailing. Forward shields were fried, inoperable. Aft shields almost down. She checked her scanner to see what had happened to Walker Four on her wing-
Rennar was gone, vaporized. She wheeled her fighter around and tried to spot the fighter that had killed him. With Rennar gone and two TIE Demolishers vaped they were down to nine pilots. Nine pilots against over a dozen Beskads and two fast-approaching corvettes, not to mention the frigates lolling only slightly behind.
The only mercy- if you could call it that- came because most of the Beskads had caught up with Voidwalker and were concentrating their attention on attack runs. The frigate's forward and aft-starboard shields were already down and the they were concentrating their attack runs on those sections, tearing more holes in the hull and flushing more bodies and tangled debris into space. The small, bitter mercy was that in making those straight attack runs the Mandos were making themselves easy targets. Marasiah had shot down three of them already, but there were plenty more to kill.
"Lead, hard to starboard," a voice called.
She broke as ordered, narrowly avoiding more shots from the fighter that had been on her before. The Beskad clung to her tail but Walker Five dropped in behind it. Marasiah risked a long straight run, enough to give Norvok a shot, and he took it. The fighter chasing her winked off her scanners and she slowed to let Walker Five pull up beside her.
"Good shooting, Lieutenant," she called.
"Walker One," came another voice, "This is Breaker One. We've got a corvette pulling ahead, it's closing on our aft-starboard. Do you see it?"
Marasiah and Norvok spun around to get a better look at Voidwalker. The frigate had never looked more battered; its once-pointed nose smashed and gnarled, its starboard side half torn-open by black gashes. The first Mandalorian corvette was closing in on that weak spot; in a normal fight Voidwalker would win easily but the cannons on that flank were as badly ripped up as the shields. Voidwalker couldn't take any more, it just couldn't.
Two bombers left, each with only a few torps left. Two bombers and a handful of fighters. They had to try. Voidwalker was dead if they didn't. Davek was dead.
"Ready your run, Breaker," she told Vull. "We'll cover. Walkers, on me."
The fighters soared toward Voidwalker and the corvette approaching. The joined formation left the frigate open for more attacks but the line was too big, too tempting for the Beskad pilots ignore. Another TIE-X burst but they kept charging. The two heavy bombers took the fore; she dropped her fighter right behind them, right between the, so when they crested Voidwalker's spine they had a perfect head-on shot at the Mando corvette.
"All ships, fire!" she called.
As soon as the words came out something took hold of her. The frenzy seemed to slow so she could know every detail. Laserfire streaked ahead, scattering on the corvette's strong forward shields. The bombers dropped their last payloads. She watched without even tapping the trigger on her joystick. Everyone fired but her. The battle-frenzy slowed down. She felt every pulse of hot plasma, every chunk of metal hurtling through the void, every mind of every pilot left in the line.
She watched as the torpedoes hit the shields and burst, obscuring slim glowing line of the corvette's command deck.
Then she squeezed the trigger. A chain of green lasers shot forward, slipped between the detonation-points of the torpedoes and disappeared in their hot white scatter across the corvette's shields. Then the scatter faded and the laser-shots were still going, cutting through the flickering shields at just the right moment. Then there was nothing to stop them. They smashed through the bridge's transparisteel viewport and impacted a quarter-second later. The command deck burst in flame from the inside-out. More explosions shuddered through the vessel. Its shields died, its hull buckled, and the engines flickered and went dark.
It was only after she pulled up, second from collision with the dying ship, that she realized all her pilots were cheering for her. As she swung to rejoin them she realized it could have only been the Force. She'd stopped seeking it and had surrendered instead, letting it flow through her and move her to save Voidwalker. To save Davek.
Then laserfire slanted across her viewport. More Beskads, coming fast. Another corvette too, and the frigates catching up behind it. All that beautiful moment had won them was a few more minutes of life.
She told her pilots to chase targets of opportunity, then broke after the nearest Beskad. Every minute had to count.
-{}-
Fighting the Sith was like battling three enemies at once. The Barabel dodged, leaped, bounded across the uneven terrain on all fours, lashing its tail like a whip. Wharn barely avoided a tail-strike that would have snapped his calf-bone in two and a swipe from one of the short red blades tore Jodram's upper-left arm, but neither of them stopped attacking.
Arlen was the most aggressive fighter. He moved like Wharn had never seen before, sidestepping the leaping and parrying and striking with every breath, but he could never get through the Barabel's twin short blades. All the while the Mandalorian hung back with her rifle, trying again and again to find the right angle to shoot the Sith in the head. At first Wharn had found it distracting; he'd been afraid that the Mando would take his head off instead but she was an impeccable shot, sometimes shooting so close to singe his black hair but never actually hitting him. It did no good; the Sith felt each shot come and blocked them all.
No mortal creature could be that tireless. Wharn could feel the Sith as a dark beacon in the Force. Its murderous intent was cold, not hot, determined and strong like durasteel. Wharn was getting exhausted; he could feel the others were too, but not the Sith. The dark side fueled it with a hideous strength.
As the fight dragged on and the Jedi started to tire Wharn found himself waiting for the killing blow. It might land on himself, Jodram, Arlen, even Tamar, but it would come. He'd thought he was ready this time, thought he'd improved since Varadan and calmed his mind and gained more mastery over the Force that would prevent him from failing again, but he was just as beaten and helpless as before.
The crushing knowledge made him angry and he tried to draw strength from it. Darth Xoran had ranted to him about injustice; this was injustice. Four Force-users against one should have been more than enough to defeat this monster but all their aggregate training gained them nothing. Even Arlen, his Master, could do no more than fight the Sith to a standstill, and that was with the others helping.
The battle neared the edge to a crater. They tried to push the Sith back, maybe even knock it into the pit, but it started pushing back. When Arlen swiped at its legs it somersaulted into the air over the Jedi's head. Arlen tried to pivot but the Sith's tail cracked against his back, dropping him to the ground. Wharn and Jodram lunged at once; the Sith blocked their sabers with either blade then ducked, spun on one heel, and lashed out with its tail. Wharn jumped over it but Jodram was a second too slow; he could hear the crack of his friend's leg-bone shattering. The Sith was back facing them in an instant; both its blades swiped out horizontally. Wharn had jumped and come down in a crouch but Jodram staggered, blinded by pain, instinctively trying to balance on one leg.
In an instant Wharn knew he'd never dodge in time. He threw himself to the side and knocked Jodram to the ground. He felt the heat of the red sabers just over his falling head, then felt Jodram's pain as his left arm, flailing upward as he fell, was cleaved straight off by the Sith's blade.
They both hit the dust. Jodram writhed in pain, clutching the stump of his arm. The Sith loomed above them and raised its blade for a killing blow. Arlen surged behind the creature and thrust with his blue blade; somehow the Sith felt it coming and sidestepped away, but not fast enough to avoid a sizzling slice beneath its ribcage. For the first time Wharn felt the Sith's pain through the Force. He savored the pain, rose to his feet, and readied a thrust that would spear the monster through the gut.
Then two laser-blasts lanced over his head and hit the Sith in the face. It staggered back, arms still over its head, then tumbled backwards into the pit.
"I could have killed it!" Wharn shouted angrily as the Mandalorian ran up to the crater's edge. Arlen was already there, looking down into the black pit.
Ignoring Wharn, Tamar asked, "Where is it? Did I kill it?"
"I can't tell. I don't think it's dead." Arlen scowled. "Wharn! How's Jodram?"
Wharn turned back to his friend, lying broken in the dust. He was still conscious, barely, but his left arm was a scorched stump and his calf had been shattered midway through, with blood and bone and muscle ripped through the fabric of his trousers.
Arlen pushed Wharn aside and bent over Jodram. He pressed a hand against the young man's forehead and closed his eyes. Jodram's pained expression relaxed and his body went limp. When Arlen took his hand away, Jodram's eyes were closed.
"We need to get him out of here," Arlen sighed as they stood up.
"What about the Sith?" said Wharn. "It's still down there! We'd know if it died!"
"He's right." Frustration choked Tamar's voice. "We hurt it. We have to finish it off."
"No." Arlen grabbed her shoulder-pad. "Take Jodram back to the speeder. Get him out of here."
"That thing-"
"Wharn and I will kill it. Please, Tamar, get Jodram out of here. Keep him safe."
She said no words and her face was hidden, but Wharn would feel the frustration and indecision warring inside her. She wanted to kill that Sith, wanted it even worse than Wharn did. Finally, Tamar nodded. "Get it done, Jedi."
"Trust me, we will." Arlen turned his eyes to Wharn. "Can you do this?"
"I almost had it, Master. If she hadn't-"
"Calm yourself! Focus! Don't let your anger take over. You're not going after that thing unless you've got a clear head."
He realized he was shaking and forced himself to take deep slow breaths. "I can do it, Master. Trust me, please." He couldn't run away again. He couldn't fail.
"All right. Tamar, take care of him. Wharn, you're with me."
They both stepped to the edge of the crater and stared down. Blackness swallowed the bottom of the pit. Wharn could still sense the Sith down there: its cold anger and ruthless predator's intent.
Without hesitation, they stepped over the edge and plunged into the dark.
-{}-
The second the first blast of Force lightning took Jade, Ben jumped forward. He was on Darth Xoran with a single lunge, and she was forced to stop her attack on his daughter and concentrate fully on the Jedi Master. Ben pounded chopping vertical blows against her red blade, forcing her back toward the lift. When he had room he gave her the chance to swipe at him and she took it; he jumped over her head, came down behind her, and swung for her back, but she was there to block him. He'd expected as much, but now he could spot Jade over Xoran's shoulder. His daughter lay near the edge of the bridge, less than a meter from the plunge. Her tunic smoked and her body twitched. He could feel her pain in the Force and tried to send soothing thoughts, peace, fortitude, but Xoran didn't let him. They traded blocks and blows and parries, all the while skirting along the elevated platform that circled the central pillar.
They moved around the pillar without even trying. When Jade slipped out of view Xoran stepped back, just out of range of a good lunge, and waved her saber in front of her.
"Are you sure vengeance is not a Jedi trait, Grand Master?" She taunted. Ben was panting from exertion but she wasn't even short of breath.
"I think I'd know by now," he said through his teeth.
"Are you saying you didn't want revenge against the Sith who killed your mother either?"
She was trying to get to him and succeeding. He lunged forward to shut her up but she skirted back and laughed. "First your mother, then your wife. In a minute I'll kill your daughter. Why wouldn't you want revenge?"
He resisted the urge to strike. "If you want to kill me then kill me. You'll never get me to turn dark. You think Sith haven't tried it before?"
She shook her head. "I know what you Jedi are. You're not saints, even when you pretend to be."
"What are we, then?"
"Cowards," she sneered. "You see a damaged galaxy full of damaged lives and what do you do? Fix it? Rage against it? Bring justice to those who need it? No!" She swiped her blade out in front of her. "You pull back, you detach yourselves, you meditate on your own inner light and deny the darkness around you. You deny the Force because you're afraid of its full power."
He heard the pain in her voice along with the mockery and remembered what she'd once been. "I'm sorry we couldn't help your family. I'm sorry the Jedi couldn't do more-"
"If you were sorry you'd have done something about it!" she shouted.
He found pity for this Sith Lord and tried to hold on to it; it was the only thing keeping the anger at bay. "I'm sorry that you've given into your hate. I think, in a better galaxy, you could have been a fine Jedi."
"Jedi!" She spat it like a curse. "You've never hated because you've never lived! You sit in your temples and never come down from your thrones. You don't know what suffering is!"
"I've suffered," he said. They were with him even now: his mother, Katia, Vestara, Jacen. "Do you really think I haven't?"
A heavy weight seemed to come onto her shoulders. Darth Xoran lowered it, breathed deep. He was so tempted to strike her then but he held back, waited. When she lifted her head her eyes flared molten gold. "Tell me, Grand Master. Do you want to know what your wife's thoughts were when she died?"
It was going to be this, then. It was always going to be this. He flexed his grip on his lightsaber and readied to fight again. "I know. I felt it. Our daughter felt it."
Xoran starting walking again, slightly to the side, slowly closer. "I thought so. I remember it so well, after all this time. I remember her face."
Ben felt tendrils of thought, probing into his mind. He pushed them out, physically jerked away from her. He could feel her raw power, fueled by a lifetime of bitter anger. If he were any lesser Jedi she could break into his mind.
"I can show it to you, Grand Master," Xoran bore her teeth, all sneering mockery, all vulnerability gone. "Do you want to see your wife's face when she died? Would you like it burned in your eyes forever?"
"No." Ben tensed; two steps more and he'd strike.
Xoran stopped where she was and shrugged. "Very well, then. I'll share it with your daughter instead."
The anger he'd been holding back surged free. He let it carry him forward and attacked.
-{}-
In the end it was inevitable. The destruction of the first Mandalorian corvette had slowed the approach of the second, but once it had passed the body of its partner the second ship had jumped ahead and begun pounding Voidwalker's aft shields with everything it had. The Beskads kept attacking the frigate's vulnerable starboard side, chewing away at more hull and killing more crew with every run. Davek had been forced to kill all power to the starboard engine lest is explode; then the dorsal engine, struggling since Karfeddion, had finally given in.
Even if there had been a place to run, Voidwalker couldn't run any longer.
Darek gave the order. They slowed their advance and spun on one axis to show their relatively strong port flank to the approaching corvette. Maybe, with a few more lucky shots from the fighters, they might be able to take down that ship too before the frigates arrived and finished Voidwalker off. Davek watched them close as he stood near the tactical console. He'd rather be here than by the captain's chair he'd never used and couldn't believe he'd earned. He'd always felt more comfortable here, in the place where he'd begun. He might as well end it here too.
He tried to remember how many Mandalorian capital ships they'd taken out before the end. He couldn't remember the score but they'd given better than they'd gotten many times over.
"It's something-" he started, so weak even he couldn't hear it. He raised his voice and said, "It's something to be proud of. Lasting as long as we could."
As shudders from the port batteries worked their way up to the bridge, he looked down on Por Dun and Korak. The Kel Dor's face was too hard to read, but on the human's he saw an emptiness. All Korak's youthful defiance had been worn away at last. They'd cheated death at Karfeddion and it had been chasing them over since. It was amazing they'd put off the inevitable for so long.
Another, deeper shudder ran across the deck. It didn't feel like an impact. It had been more like a rattle, as though something inside the ship had briefly adjusted itself.
Then he realized. The artificial gravity. Before he could even ask, Por Dun said, "Sir, the interdiction field! It's down!"
He spun away from the holo. "Comm! Hail Starless! Tell them-"
They didn't need to. He saw the first ship revert to realspace off their forward bow. It was a good distance away but clear to see: a dark grey wedge twice as long as Voidwalker and five times as massive.
More ships appeared after that. He looked back to the tactical holo: the red lights around Voidwalker were suddenly ringed by greens on all sides. Out past the viewport, Starless was opening fire. The corvette attacking Voidwalker lasted less than a minute before its shields crumpled and its hull was consumed by flames. Alliance starfighters- Tri-wing interceptors and D-wing attack craft- began to swarm out of its hangar and overwhelm the Beskads. The Mando frigates tried to run, but they were boxed in on all sides. Within three minutes, both surrendered and the battle was over.
Davek didn't know what he'd expected when this moment came. He'd never really believed it would, but now it had. No one cheered, not even Korak. The bridge crew slumped in their seats, stunned, exhausted, disbelieving. No one even spoke except for a few section chiefs trying to start post-battle system checks.
"Captain!" an ensign called, "Starless is hailing."
"One minute. Please." Davek felt weak; he braced himself on the tactical console. "Ensign Korak… What about our fighters?"
"We're still got seven birds in the air, sir."
Seven. He couldn't remember how many it had been last he'd checked. He was terrified to ask but somehow he got it out. "What about the CAG?"
Korak glanced at his console, double-checking. "Walker One is inbound, sir."
He nodded because he didn't trust himself to speak. Somehow he staggered over to the communications station, gathered himself, and rasped, "This is Voidwalker."
"Davek, what's your situation?" His father's voice was urgent. "Do you have a damage report yet?"
He felt something cold on his face and brushed his cheek with the back of a hand. Tears, after all this.
"It's okay, Dad," he sniffed. "We won."
-{}-
It was a darkness that swallowed everything. The only illumination came from the blue-white of Wharn and Arlen's lightsabers and those only spread light a few steps away. They could see no tunnel walls, could mark no path. They wandered through a void without form or substance and Arlen felt lost in darkness deeper than anything he'd ever known.
It terrified him but he tried to hide it. He had to at least appear strong, for Wharn's sake. The Force flowed between them and it was hard; he could feel the young Chiss's frustration and anger, the punishing self-loathing that had been with him ever since Master Mjalu's death. Yet now even that was being tempered by the abyss they wandered in. For all their combined Jedi powers and training they'd become lost in the dark and felt very, very small.
And then the Sith was on them. They'd been walking three paces apart and the Sith fell as though from the ceiling. It landed on all fours and whipped its tail around. The Jedi knew to jump high and Arlen tried to land with his boots on the Sith's back, but it lunged away and its feet hit the cavern floor. They held out their sabers, trying to catch the Barabel as it rushed into the dark.
Suddenly it lunged, twin sabers blazing. In the cramped darkness of the tunnel it was hard to move. The Sith interposed itself between them and fought off both their blows at once. Arlen ducked beneath one swipe, fell into a roll, and came up next to Wharn. They pressed together but the Barabel still had two blades to fight off their attacks. At the same time it kept attempting quick forward thrusts. Against its short blades the Jedi could keep dodging, but Arlen realized that was the point. The Sith was backing them toward something, in a direction different from the one which they'd come.
He sent Wharn a warning in the Force: get low get behind it. Arlen swung diagonally from the hip and pushed the Sith's parrying blade upward. At the same time Wharn ducked low and tried to get around to the Barabel's other side. The Sith swung his second blade like a cleaver but Arlen pitched himself off-balance and threw his right leg in an upward kick. His boot connected with the Sith's wrist, stopping its swipe midway down.
For a second the Sith froze in shock. Arlen twisted his saber, pulled it back from the Sith's red blade, then tilted it upward, right through a wrist. The Barabel lost balance and stumbled back. It unleashed a high-pitched, animal howl of pain, the first noise it had made since the fight began. Wharn saw his opening and moved in to strike its side.
But the Barabel lashed out. Its tail took Wharn in the stomach and knocked him against the cavern wall. The Sith jabbed its handless, bladeless wrist at Arlen and for a second the Jedi thought his opponent had gone delirious.
Then blue lightning burst from the still-smoking stump. Pain exploded over Arlen's body as he was thrown against the opposite wall. He dropped his saber; he tried to scream but nothing came out. He could feel that awful energy, the physical manifestation of that Sith's cold anger, burning his insides like an icy fire.
Then Wharn surged forward and thrust his saber into the Sith's side. He kept pushing and the lightning began again, sizzling over both their bodies. Arlen fought back the pain and felt them both, twin novas of frustration and anger, literally clawing at each other as they backed away down the tunnel path.
Arlen tried to scream but all he could make was a gasp. "Wharn! Wait! Step back!"
Wharn didn't hear him, didn't care. He shoved the Sith back again. Both their bodies- lit up by a corona of Force-lighting- tipped back and plunged out of view.
Then it was total darkness.
Gasping, Arlen fumbled on his hands and knees until he found his lightsaber. He ignited the blue-white blade and crawled over to the place where Wharn and the Sith had disappeared. With his free hands he grasped the rim of the shaft, edged his upper body over, and looked down into the long, long fall.
He tried to feel Wharn, feel the Sith. He felt nothing at all.
Slowly, mournfully, Arlen picked himself up. Lightsaber in hand, he began to stagger out of the dark.
-{}-
She could feel it, all the anger and the agony. It washed away even the pain that had been spasming through her body for minutes after Darth Xoran's explosive blast of Force lightning. Jade pushed herself upright and looked around for her lightsaber. It was five meters away, just on the cusp of the ledge, and she hurriedly pulled it to her.
She stood on wobbly legs and looked to the source of all she was feeling. Her father and Darth Xoran had rounded the pillar. He was attacking fiercely, pushing her onto the bridge. Jade could feel the pain at the heart of his rage, the pain of her mother's death compounded by the pain of his mother's death, the pain of all the people he'd loved and lost in the Jedi Order's endless war against the Sith.
Dad, don't! she tried to tell him, but he pressed on and on.
She started jogging toward the fight, and when she got her wind back she sprinted. Xoran's back was turned and if she could stab the Sith Lord through right now, if she could claim this kill as her own before her father struck her down in hatred-
She was three meters away when Xoran, without even turning or raising a hand, unleashed another burst of Force lightning. Jade didn't even have time to stop it. It leaped off Xoran's back, exploded in Jade's face and threw her back down the bridge, rolling a straight line down its center. She clutched tight to her lightsaber this time, didn't let it go, even as her whole body trembled and her teeth rattled between shuddering jaws. Pain shot though every nerve in her boy, pain so awful she couldn't even think.
Then something came through: warmth, confidence, escape. Her father, sending her strength.
She used that strength to plant a fist on the bridge and push herself onto her knees. Her father still battled Xoran but it was different now, slower, deliberate instead of a fury. He was different in the Force too. He'd pulled back from his vengeful rage. She felt his love for her pulsing through their connection in the Force, a love that washed away all the bitterness and rage and regret that had piled so high between them.
Do it, Jade, he said. I'll protect you.
Jade rose and charged again. When she got close Xoran sent out another blast of Force lightning. Jade was ready and caught some of it on her lightsaber though more arced through her body. It was pain, awful pain, pain that brought her charge to a shuddering halt, but her father's strength held her upright. Jade stood her ground and didn't fall.
Xoran didn't notice or redouble her attacks. She stepped back from Jade's father and sparked a burst of Force lighting between them. Jade felt Ben's pain through the connection, even as her own dwindled.
Go! he told her, and Jade charged again.
Xoran swelled with anger, accumulated over a lifetime and cultivated into raw power. Force lightning danced across her body and jumped out in all directions. It arced like an electric surge in two directions, to Ben and Jade at once. The pain was overwhelming them both but Ben subsumed it, took it on himself, shunted the agony on all on him so his daughter could charge on, propelled by no anger or bitterness or regret or desire, only a love that would never pass away.
It took everything he had. Xoran had become a nova of dark energy and it was scalding him, tearing through his body and searing every cell. She raised her saber with both hands for a downward strike. Jade kept running, almost there, her vision blinded by the blue storm. Xoran's next blow batted down Ben's lightsaber and in his agony he hadn't the strength to lift it up. She swung again, straight down, through his robes, through empty air, until she scraped through the platform floor onto which his saber clattered.
Within a halo of dark lightning, she turned around. Jade threw herself into the air. The energy enveloped them both but Jade didn't feel a thing. Ben was still with her, protecting his daughter from any harm.
She fell on Darth Xoran, saber plunging through the Sith Lord's heart. Xoran vanished in a final flare of lightning that was gone before Jade hit the ground.
She landed on her feet, rolled, and skidded across the platform. Her lightsaber died and spilled from her hand. When she opened her eyes her palm was in front of her face, the last few sparks of lightning dying between her finger-tips.
She blinked her vision clear. A gentle hand seemed to lift her upright. She looked around and saw the platform scorched and burnt, the remains of a tattered brown robe, and two lightsabers, fallen side-by-side.
Jade rose. She staggered over to the sabers. She picked up Darth Xoran's and threw it over the edge of the platform. Then she dropped on her knees, picked up Ben Skywalker's with both hands, and sunk to her knees as it all became real. She felt one more caress, soft and loving against her tear-wet face, before her father's touch faded from her mind.