Clearing out the last of the missile towers around the Sith Temple wasn't the relief it should have been. Before knocking out the final installation Marasiah had already been alerted to the Hapan Battle Dragon that had appeared in orbit directly above them. It must have been stationed on the far side of the planet, invisible from their approach vector, then swung around to attack position.
It wasn't attacking yet. As Marasiah pulled her fighter higher in the atmosphere to get a better sensor reading, she found that it had deployed three squadrons of Miy'tils but those too were holding position. They were waiting for something.
The surviving Jedi ships, five in all, had set down at the base of the three-pyramid Sith Temple. Even from high above Marasiah could spot a chaos of many-colored blades. A part of her wanted to set down her TIE Saber and joined the fight but she couldn't just ignore the Battle Dragon.
"Orders, Knight One?" Katrin asked as their fighters lifted higher in the sky, toward the unseen and distant warship.
"Stay with me, Knight Two. Everyone else, keep low altitude and give the Jedi cover fire if they need it. I'm going to try and contact the fleet."
Her pilots did as ordered and she increased altitude. As the twin Sabers cut through the thinning air, she steered well-clear of the Battle Dragon and its Miy'tils. She watched her sensors more than the sky but the Hapan fighters didn't seem to be budging.
She leveled off on the edge of the atmospheric envelope, Shedu Maad a green and blue-stone sprawl beneath her and the planet's silver icy veils above. She patched the Thrawn into her long-range transmitter and tried to make contact with Admiral Jaeger, but she knew Hapan jamming, plus distortion from the surrounding Mists, might get in the way. Nothing from Jaeger. Nothing within the limited range of her fighter's sensors either.
She set her comm to broadcast to all Imperial frequencies and called, "This is Knight One hailing Imperial vessels. This is Knight One. Any ships in range, please respond."
Two long seconds passed before she got a reply. It was marred by heavy static but she could make out the man's words. "We read you, Knight One. This is the star destroyer Por Dun. Repeat, the Por Dun. Do you copy?"
She knew the name, but not the ship. A Kel Dor, one of Davek's trusted tactical ensigns aboard Voidwalker. Died in the same battle that had killed Jagged Fel, slandered as an alien traitor by Corrien Veers, then firmly rehabilitated by Davek's propaganda team after becoming Emperor. One thing she loved abut her husband was that he never forgot his friends.
"I hear you, Por Dun. Holding over the planet now. Sitrep?"
"Thrawn is holding on the other side the passage. We were sent to assist. Pushing through now."
"Do you see that Battle Dragon?"
"That's why we were sent to assist."
"It's holding now. Its fighters too. I don't know how long it'll last."
"We're progressing slowly through the passage. Still some mines left. Estimate arrival in seventeen minutes."
"Understood. We'll hail if anything changes."
Marasiah shut off her link. She slowed her TIE Saber and pivoted so as to face the Battle Dragon. It was just a tiny speck above the corona-glow of Shedu Maad's atmosphere, but if wanted to it could pulverize the shieldless Sith Temple with a few orbital volleys. Marasiah hailed her Knights close to the surface and they confirmed that the Jedi had moved their fight into the pyramids. She called on them to pull away and form up with her. She wasn't ready to charge that Battle Dragon yet, but it might start firing at any moment, and Marasiah's handful of Imperial Knights would be all that stood between the Jedi and oblivion.
It was going to be an excruciating seventeen minutes.
-{}-
Darth Terrid returned to his home of twenty-five years in the center of a maelstrom. The One Sith had been waiting outside the pyramids to stop the Jedi landing parties but a few well-placed strafing runs by the Imperial Knights but cut many down. The Jedi had rushed out of their ships in a surge of green, blue, violet, and gold, and the Sith's red tide didn't last long before retreating into the Temple.
Terrid had told the Jedi everything they needed to know about the additions the Sith had made to the original complex. After running out of Jade Shadow's hold, Ayen Qemar and Ceynar Valilss had joined K'Kruhk and a mob of a dozen Jedi in storming the southern pyramid, where the One Sith kept the children it indoctrinated. Terrid followed Jade through the frenzy to a pair of tall, unmistakable Wookiee knights.
As one of the few present who remembered Shedu Maad from its Jedi days, Lowbacca led the charge into the main pyramid. Arlen was already with them, and Terrid and Jade joined them in the attack. On Jade's insistence, the Jedi had given him a lightsaber. He'd been shocked to see that it was his lightsaber, the one he'd crafted from black stone and surrendered on Orelon. They'd even left its red focusing crystal intact. If that was a message, he wasn't sure what it was, but it didn't matter, not so long as he could fight.
A great battle immediately joined in the lowest level's broad foyer space. Dozens of Jedi battled dozens of Sith but Terrid stayed on the outer edge of the chamber.
"The lift to Krayt's chamber is on the far side," he shouted above the constant crash of lightsabers. "There are passages that go around! Follow me!"
He caught the hesitation that passed between the Jedi- Arlen, Jade, Lowbacca, the Grand Master's son Karrash and a younger Mirialian whom Terrid didn't know.
Jade was the one who said, "Let's go. Krayt's our priority."
Lowbacca made his decision: a quick nod. Terrid turned from the chamber and began directing the Jedi around a series of narrow hallways that bordered the foyer. Like the rest of this Sith Temple, the walls were made of rough blue-stone bricks mined, carved, and piled in place by the Jedi and their Hapan allies decades ago. He hoped he they appreciated the ironies involved. Not so long ago Jedi and Hapans had fought against Sith; today Sith and Hapans fought against Jedi. If the Jedi thought vermin could be anything more than temporary tools they were willfully blinding themselves to history.
Terrid wasn't blind and he didn't hesitate to do what had to be done. They hurried down the first two corridors and found them empty but on turning the corner into the third Terrid nearly walked into a Sith.
The lights were dim but he could make out a human face with lined of black tattoos over its natural tan skin. Darth Sidon, one of the younger Lords. Sidon registered Terrid's face and his jaw dropped in disbelief.
Terrid thumbed on his lightsaber. Sidon's was already lit but he barely brought it up in time to block. Terrid kept attacking, red blade against red blade, pushing Sidon back three steps. Then Terrid summoned an easy surge of anger and unleashed a blast of Force lightning from his palm. It curled around Sidon's lightsaber and crackled across his face. Pain was enough to distract him. One swift horizontal strike across the waist and he cut Sidon in two.
Panting, he looked back at the Jedi. He could see soft condemnation on Jade's face and Arlen's too. For some reason that drained away the glow of victory he'd expected to feel.
"Don't thank me, Jedi," Terrid snarled. "Come on!"
Killing Sidon might not have given satisfaction, but Wyyrlok would be different. Wyyrlok had overseen his brutal molding as a youth and eventual breaking. Wyyrlok would surely end up standing between them and Darth Krayt.
Once they got to the opposite side of the embattled foyer, Terrid pushed them further. He and Arlen worked together to cut through one armored door, then another, until finally they carved their way to a round low-ceilinged vestibule chamber. On the opposite side of their entrance: the smooth grey metal doors to the lift that plunged down to Darth Krayt's subterranean resting place. In the chamber's center, a pair of Sith. Darth Venar, brown-faced Klatooinan who'd lost his right eye in a sparring match with Inexor a decade back. Darth Marok, a Wookiee all the more terrifying for his shaved-off fur and tattooed red-and-black skin.
Venar's one eye widened in shock as he saw Terrid before him. The Chiss charged. Venar brought up his lightsaber and blocked Terrid's first attack as Jade and the Mirialan hurried to help. Terrid was aware that Arlen and the two Jedi Wookiees rushed the bellowing Marok, but all his concentration was on Venar. The Klatooinan's saber moved fast to block Jade's attack, then Terrid's, while the Mirialan hovered back from them both, waiting for his opening.
Darth Venar didn't give him a chance. The Klatooinan ducked low and swept his saber out in a broad arc, forcing Terrid and Jade both to jump up. At the same time he unleashed a wave of Force energy that threw them further. Terrid's back slammed into the wall. His head cracked hard brick. As he dropped to the floor his lightsaber spilled from his hand. He watched as Venar parried two attacks from the Mirialan, then slipped a jab past the Jedi's defenses and poked the tip of his red blade through the Mirilian's shoulder.
Jade was already on her feet but Venar pushed her back with another Force-punch. Then he was back on Terrid. He grabbed the Chiss by the hair and dragged him up by the head, pinning him against the rough stone wall.
"I knew you were a traitor but I never thought you'd bring the Jedi here!" Venar snarled.
He cocked his arm back and aimed the tip of his saber at Terrid's chest. Then he shoved it forward. Right before the blade could burn through, a violet one swept in from below and knocked it upward. Venar reacted quickly to Jade's attack. He released Terrid's hair and jumped two steps back, but the Mirialan had recovered and was right behind him. His green blade tore out from Venar's sternum. The Sith's one eye bulged, his jaw hung slack, and when the Jedi released him, he collapsed dead on the ground.
"Thank you, Yeris!" Jade called over the continuing clash of the three Wookiees, then looked at Terrid. "You okay?"
"Yes," he said, glancing at his shirt. A burnt tear in the fabric, but not in the flesh. Her timing had been perfect. "Thank you," he added.
"Someone's got to make sure we find the right secret catacomb."
There was only one of those and they both knew it. Jade's generosity hadn't surprised him, but it still felt strange, after all these years, to be among Force-users who fought and sometimes died for each other's sake.
These damned foolish, noble Jedi.
They turned their attention to the clashing Wookiees on the other side of the chamber. Even Arlen was wisely skirting clear of that confrontation. Instead he was calling the lift up from Krayt's far-below chamber. Darth Marok attacked with primal ferocity, battling both Lowbacca and Karrash at once. At the same time he reached out with claw-tipped hands and snapped his sharp teeth, once even getting a piece of Karrash's arm. The brave Mirialan who'd felled Venar waited for his chance, then took it when Marok's hairless back was to him. Yeris tried to run him through from behind as he had the Klatooinan, but Marok pivoted and pushed aside his attack at the last moment. That gave Karrash and opening, and the Wookie Jedi scored a horizontal slash across Marok's right bicep.
The Sith howled as one arm dropped to the floor, but he kept his lefthand claws tight on his lightsaber and even managed to push back an attack from Lowbacca. Karrash didn't relent; he shoved his furred body against Marok's hairless flank and drove his saber up, into the huge Sith's stomach, then pushed the scorching blade through Marok's ribcage and lungs. The Wookiee's dying howl was one of the most terrifying things Terrid had ever heard, all the more for its sudden stop. Marok's body dropped to the stone with a heavy thud.
Six Jedi and one former Sith stood over the dead, panting from exhaustion, scouring their bodies for wounds. Arlen announced, "The lift's almost here."
Then the door opened, and it began again. This time just one Sith charged out of the lift capsule: a Barabel with ferocious black and red patterns on his scales, black armor over his body, a thick tail like a whip, and half-meter red energy blades jutting out from above either wrist.
Terrid knew him well. So did Jade, Lowbacca, and Arlen.
Yeris was stuck dead ahead of him and tried to stand his ground, but Kheykid emerged from the lift tube like a whirling. The Barabel threw himself into a spin that batted the green lightsaber aside, cracked his tail through the Mirialan's kneecaps, then ended with a high decapitating blow.
Just as Yeris' head hit the ground a grenade went off inside the lift tube. It wasn't enough to hurt anyone in the vestibule chamber but it succeeded in turning the mobile capsule into an unusable chunk of charred black metal.
Kheykid was already attacking again, dropped to all fours and rushing straight at Lowbacca. The Grand Master jumped out of his path then came down on top of him, clawed feet clattering on Kheykid's armored back. For a moment it looked like he'd pinned Kheykid there and Karrash rushed in to strike a killing blow. Then the Barabel pushed up hard with all four limbs, throwing Lowbacca off him. Still low to the ground, Kheykid dashed past Karrash. One of his short-blades cut through the Wookiee's left calf. As he fell Karrash made a sound almost as horrible as Darth Marok's dying wail.
Lowbacca was on the attack again and Kheykid reared to two legs to fight him. As they battled Arlen yelled to Jade and Terrid, "We'll hold him! Clear a path!"
Terrid hurried over to the exploded lift tube. Jade was right behind him. "How far down?" she asked.
"Two hundred meters, maybe more."
"Straight shot?"
"All the way."
An invisible force crunched down on the top of the lift tube. Exploded as it was, the ceiling collapsed easily. Jade pushed it all the way down, smashing more debris together, until the almost-flat rooftop disc was only a meter off the ground.
Jade hopped onto it first. She crouched atop the uneven surface and reached out to Terrid. Instead of taking her hand he used a Force-powered leap to propel himself on top of the broken lift. It shifted under combined weight but held. They'd have to use the Force to lower themselves down, two-hundred-plus meters, to Darth Krayt's catacomb.
"Arlen!" Jade called as he and Lowbacca battled Kheykid on the far side of the chamber.
"Hold on!" the man shouted but didn't stop battling Kheykid.
Then, with a short metal screech, the broken lift tube fell out from under their feet. It happened too fast to react. Jade and Terrid followed it down into the dark.
-{}-
Darth Kheykid had begun this day determined to die well. Almost as soon as he'd joined the battle he found himself face-to-face with the Jedi Grand Master himself. It was the collision he'd hoped for and it might have even been the Force at working in bringing it, but unlike the supine Jedi who believed in submitting to the Force's will, Kheykid was a Sith. The Force was what he wrested his desires from, and victory against Grand Master Lowbacca was his to win or lose.
He knew the fighting style of both his enemies. He'd faced the human, Arlen Fel, twice during the Senex-Juvex Crisis. He'd been a fresh-made Lord and it had been his first time battling a Jedi. Time wore harder on humans than it did on Wookiees or Barabels. Twenty-five years had turned Fel's beard gray, slowed his reflexes, and drained his endurance.
Lowbacca, however, was just as powerful as when he and Kheykid had fought Abeloth together. Every mighty two-handed blow from the Wookiee's gold lightsaber nearly knocked aside Kheykid's shorter blades. He crossed both together and caught Lowbacca's attacks whenever he could, but the fragile and stubborn human kept close and attacked whenever Kheykid was exposed.
The Jedi didn't relent even after the collapsed lift tube had plunged down the shaft, taking Skywalker and the traitor with it. If they survived, Wyyrlok would deal with them. Kheykid was determined to finish these two himself, so he backed out of the vestibule chamber and led them down a narrow hall. Battles between Jedi and Sith were raging throughout the Temple, especially in the ground floor, but Kheykid led them up an old stone staircase. He dropped to all fours and scrambled up two flights, pausing several times to swipe his blades at them and keep them engaged in the fight.
When he reached the third level Kheykid led them into an empty hallway where no one would interfere. The chase and their pursuit had only sharpened his desire. Darth Xoran had killed a Jedi Grand Master. Though it had cost her life, she'd accomplished what no other Sith had done in over a thousand years. Kheykid craved to follow his master's legacy. He lusted for it. He drew power from that lust; he moved faster, blocked more attacks, even battled back some of the Wookiee's powerful blows. And as he fought Dark Kheykid, who'd started today ready to die for Darth Krayt's grand design, realized there was strength in personal ambition after all.
He could take the Grand Master. He knew he could, but Arlen Fel was always at his flanks, forcing him to defend instead of using both his blades for attack. Fel was drawing on the Force to give himself strength and speed and endurance, and again and again he dodged Kheykid's whipping tail-lashes and quick saber-thrusts. If Fel and Lowbacca were separated, Kheykid knew he could kill either of them. Together they'd fought him to a standstill and just might win.
He'd have to draw them apart. When they skirted close to one shut door, Kheykid used the Force to blow it out of its frame. He slipped through the threshold and the Jedi followed. The chamber was on the outer edge of the pyramid, and a long translucent window stretched across the tilted wall. Another push from the Force burst its glass. The Jedi knew where he was going and tried to stop him, but when Fel blocked him from reaching the window, Kheykid pivoted and snapped his tail at the Jedi's legs. Fel was caught off-guard and didn't have time for a nimble jump. He stumbled back, lost balance. A killing blow would cost Kheykid a fatal half-second so he bounded on all fours for the window, jumped onto its glass-strewn edge, and grabbed the upper rim with two clawed hands. He looked at the Wookie charging toward him, bore his teeth, and pulled his whole body upward. Just as he sunk all four sets of claws on the pyramid's blue-brick exterior he felt pain run through his body and realized he'd underestimate the Wookie's reach. Lowbacca had taken the last two inches off his tail.
Kheykid hissed threw his pain and tried to draw strength from it. He pulled himself up the pyramid's slanted exterior, notching his claws in the cracks between rough brick. Lowbacca knew he'd been wounded and was climbing out to give pursuit. Kheykid had planned to fall on him as soon as he cleared the window but pain slowed him. The Barabel pulled himself further toward the peak, glancing over his shoulder to see Lowbacca climbing after him. The Wookiee sunk his claws into the same cracks and his lightsaber, humming gold blade still lit, was clamped tight between his fangs.
Kheykid drew on his pain and anger. He climbed faster, determined to get far enough ahead of Lowbacca, then turn and drop on him. And then they would fight, and then he would win, because there was strength in dark ambition after all.
-{}-
The Hapan Battle Dragon held resolute in geosynchronous orbit above the Sith Temple. What it was waiting on, Marasiah didn't know, but the imminent arrival of the Por Dun was going to force it to act one way or the other. When the star destroyer was one minute from exiting the passage it was already sending its fighter wing ahead, and Marasiah made her decision.
"All fighters, this is Empress Fel." She made her voice as imperious as she could. "Fall in with Knight Squadron and initiate your attack runs on the Battle Dragon. Bombers, target the communications array beneath the lower disc. Everyone else, provide cover."
If that Battle Dragon was waiting for a signal from the ground, Marasiah would do her best to make sure it couldn't receive. The remaining eight TIE Sabers peeled out of the lower atmosphere. The Por Dun's full fighter complement was rushing to join them and so were all the Battle Dragon's Miy'tils. Marasiah placed her ships in between them and waited for the friendly TIEs to get close.
"Shields on full," she told the pilots. "Break through the fighter screen and protect the bombers. Our target is the comm array above all."
She glanced at her scanners. The Por Dun had breached the ice-drifts and was cutting a straight line for Shedu Maad. The Battle Dragon was still locked in position but its double-discs rotated so it could aim the most cannons against the destroyer bearing down on it.
But before the capital ships could engage, the fighter wings collided in a messy brawl. The Por Dun had brought a mix of nimble TIE-Xs and heavy TIE Demolishers, and only Marasiah's squad flew fast but durable TIE Sabers. The Knights were forced to be everywhere at once, staying close to protect the bombers while ranging far enough to take the fight to the Miy'tils that hung around the battle's edge, waiting for a chance to attack.
The Force was with them now more than ever. Marasiah had tried to make the Imperial Knights into Jedi and soldiers both, and now they were exactly that, so attuned to each other's intentions that eight Sabers weaved and danced, defended and killed, as though governed by one mind. The Hapans, by contrast, had a messy defense. Some Miy'tils got drawn into pointless dogfights with the TIE-Xs while the ones that tried attack runs on the TIE Demolishers had poor coordination only limited success.
All the while, the bombers homed in on the Battle Dragon's lower disc and they dragged the fight with them. When they neared firing range Marasiah ordered the TIE-Xs to draw as many Miy'tils away as possible while her Sabers fell in near the Demolishers, to protect them and to add their torpedoes to the attack. The TIE-Xs continued to fight bravely, and the Knights alerted each other to the Miy'tils that slipped through the screen so they could be destroyed without breaking formation.
When they got near enough, the Battle Dragons' turbolasers began spraying in their direction. One unlucky Demolisher was hit and burst, but the rest lumbered along, shifting position enough to dodge the bolts that came their way.
"Knights, Demolishers, focus all fire on that comm array," Marasiah called. "Acquire target. Mark. Ready. Fire!"
The Demolishers and Sabers all unleashed their warheads, two each. It would make a mighty blast but she didn't know if that would enough to break through the shields. A normal bombing formation would scatter after this shot and come around for another pass if necessary, but something- instinct or the Force- told Marasiah otherwise.
"All ships, hold position! Reacquire target lock!" She called. That Battle Dragon was looming close. Its laser blasts flashed bright and caught another Demolisher. The first barrage was almost at the shield barrier.
Right before it hit, she called, "All ships fire and break formation!"
They unleashed another wave and, finally, scattered. The Battle Dragon's turbolasers picked off another bomber just as its shields caught the first series of explosions. As Marasiah peeled away she made a tight curve beneath the warship and tilted her fighter so she could see the second wave hit.
This one tore right through the shields. The cluster of communications antennae that jutted out from the bottom of the Battle Dragon vanished in a molten fireball. It was exactly what she'd hoped for, and she prayed they'd stopped communication between the Hapans and the Sith below.
With the success of the attack run, the TIEs and Miy'tils spread out into a series of dogfights as chaotic as they were fierce. Despite that, the battle no longer belonged to the swarming snubfighters. The Battle Dragon and the star destroyer had drawn close enough, and the space between them lit up in a storm of turbolaser fire, beautiful and deadly.
There was only one way the fight could end now, and Marasiah dove in to join it.
-{}-
Two hundred meters was a long way to fall.
It worked in their favor in the end. The ruins of the lift tube jostled and scraped against the walls of the shaft on the way down, knocking them off their feet and throwing up a constant shower of sparks, but as Jade and Terrid pressed together at the center of the wreckage they had time and awareness enough to call on the Force. Terrid focused on raising a wall around them to deflect the sparks and chipped metal flying off the walls. Jade used the Force to slow their descent. Once she firmly grasped their plunging, twisted capsule in her mind she could lower it as slowly as she wished, and when they finally reached the bottom of the shaft it hit ground with a single crunch and went still.
The pact space echoed with the rasping of their breath. As they struggled upright Jade looked straight upward and saw only a very faint, very distant patch of light marking the place from which they'd come. She didn't know what was happening with Arlen and Lowbacca, but she was pretty certain they were still alive. She thought she'd feel Arlen's death at least.
Jade jumped when Terrid ignited his lightsaber. She took a step away and faced him. The red light spilled across his face, dyeing blue skin the color of his eyes. Stiffly he said, "We'll have to cut our way out."
From his saber's glow she could see the curvature and seal of twin metal doors. She turned on her violet blade and asked, "What's on the other side?"
"Just a short hallway. Then the vestibule. Krayt will be beyond that.
"What about Wyyrlok?"
He closed his eyes. "Can you feel that?"
Jade let her thoughts reach past the shut doors. A shudder ran through her body. There was a dark power just beyond, immense and brooding. It reminded her of nothing besides Abeloth.
Terrid seemed to sense her thoughts. He grabbed her forearm and squeezed. "We defeated Abeloth together. We can kill Krayt and Wyyrlok."
But they hadn't, not them alone. Jodram had played the biggest part. Without him, she didn't know what they were capable of.
There was only one way to find out, and only one direction to go. Terrid had insisted the great power in her blood could meet destiny's demands time and again. Praying he was right, she thrust her lightsaber into the metal door. Terrid did the same, and together they carved a portal large enough for both to climb through.
As he'd said, there was just a short corridor beyond, and then another set of doors. This section was visibly different from the pyramid above. Instead of being made from blue-stone bricks, the walls were carved through dark gray rock. The floor was made of patterned stone tiles, red and black like so many of those Sith used to mark their faces.
They stepped up to the second door together, and it slid open before them.
Jade and Terrid walked into the vestibule chamber. It was massive, with a cavernous ceiling and more red-and-black patterns on the floor. Despite its size it felt empty, and Jade's attention was quickly drawn to the only things of importance.
On the opposite wall were two swinging doors made of heavy black stone. They stood ten meters high and were sealed tight.
In the middle of the chamber, at the center of the complex red-and-black patterned whorl, was an old Chagrian woman with red-and-black marks over her face. She'd been sitting cross-legged, her midnight-dark robe obscuring her form, but when Jade and Terrid arrived she rose to her feet. Jade felt that she was the focal points of that immense dark power, but not its locus. That was coming from the chamber behind her.
Jade remembered what her father had said about the Wyyrlok he'd faced, and what it had taken to beat Darth Krayt's greatest servant. She held her lightsaber in front of her with both hands. Terrid did the same. They froze side-by-side halfway to the center of the chamber and watched. Wyyrlok stared back at them with glowing gold eyes.
The Chagrian bore a sharp-toothed smile. There was no joy in it. "You surprised us, Darth Terrid," she said, "Or have you reverted to a Jedi name?"
"I am what I choose to be," he said. "Not what you made me."
"We made you stronger than you were. Better."
"No. You didn't." He had the tone of decision.
Wyyrlok's eyes shifted to Jade. "And a Skywalker. You, I expected."
"Why?" She flexed her hands over the lightsaber hilt. "Because of what my dad did to yours?"
Her lip curled, baring more teeth. "You know nothing about my father."
"Enough talk," Terrid said. He stepped slowly away from Jade, widening the space between them but drawing no closer to Wyyrlok. "There's a lot more Jedi up there. And when they're done slaughtering your Sith they're going to join us down here and kill your dreaming old man in his coffin."
"I thought you'd want that pleasure yourself."
"That's why I came down first," he snarled.
"I thought so," Wyyrlok said, and threw up her arms. Force lightning burst from either palm. Jade held her lightsaber out and caught it, but the force of it kept her in place. Terrid also held up his lightsaber but he pressed forward, step by stubborn step. Jade could feel the anger brewing inside him, anger he intentionally summoned to battle Wyyrlok's own dark power.
Wyyrlok continued to threw lightning out from her hand as if it were nothing. The energy of which she was the focus seemed to be growing greater, as though she was drawing more and more of it from Krayt's coffin, filling herself to the point of bursting.
Terrid burst first. He dropped his saber and cast a volley of his own lightning. Wyyrlok caught it in her palm, collapsing its destructive power on herself, but in doing so she dropped the blast she was throwing at Jade. The Jedi charged forward and was on Wyyrlok in an instant. A lightsaber appeared in the Chagrian's hand and a red blade crashed against violet.
That threw her attention away from Terrid, and the Chiss used the opening. He took Wyyrlok on the other side and she darted black to avoid his blow. She was fast for an old woman; she dodged and came up with lightsaber in one hand, Force lightning crackling off the fingertips of the other. She cast lightning at Jade and then Terrid to keep them back, but the Chiss charged forward again. This time Wyyrlok pivoted, threw lightning at Jade, and used her lightsaber to deflect more attacks from Terrid.
Jade struggled against the storm of energy. It was like all those years ago, when she and her father had battled Darth Xoran. Wyyrlok was brewing a whirlwind of Dark Side energies inside her, turning herself into a cauldron of destructive energy, not caring if it killed her, only if it took out her foes.
Her father had given his power and his life to protect Jade from Xoran's destruction. His power was still with her, in her, and as she struggled against Wyyrlok's attacks she reached deep inside herself until she found the still, peaceful place, untouched by the dark storm, that was the wellspring of true Force power.
Jade drew from that power, was enriched and strengthened by it, and she stepped forward. Wyyrlok's lightning leaped around her blade and danced across her skin, lacing it with burns, but she didn't feel the pain. She didn't fear and she didn't slow down.
Wyyrlok was so distracted battling Terrid's angry attacks that she didn't notice Jade's peaceful approach until she was right beside her. The Chagrian recoiled, too late to fully avoid Jade's horizontal swipe. The violet blade cut through Wyyrlok's robes and through her abdomen, right beneath the ribcage.
When Jade opened Wyyrlok's flesh she released a blast of white-hot power, greater even than the Force lightning. It knocked Jade and Terrid both off their feet and sent them skidding across the flagstones. Wyyrlok staggered, still clutching her lightsaber, while the other hand held her torn side. White flame flickered out from beneath her spread palm and Jade realized in full what Wyyrlok was doing. Like Xoran she was cultivating the raw power until it was literally consuming her from the inside, but unlike Xoran the power was not just her own. She was drawing from Krayt, filling herself even more, and her half-devoured flesh was the only thing holding pure destruction at bay.
She was a storm about to burst; a bomb about to explode.
"You understand, Jedi," Wyyrlok snarled. "No matter what, you're not leaving here alive."
-{}-
The battle with Kheykid had left Arlen breathless, but the Barabel's flight to the outside of the pyramid gave no respite. Lowbacca had charged after the deadly Sith, lopping off the tip of his tail but nothing more, then followed him onto the Sith Temple's sloping blue-brick exterior. Arlen didn't have the natural equipment to join them but he couldn't leave the fight either. As much as he wanted to go back down to that broken vestibule and follow Jade and Terrid down the shaft- they were still alive, he knew it- he couldn't abandon his original teacher either.
So he sprinted back to the stairwell they'd originally chased Kheykid up, then began climbing more flights. He was too exhausted to bound up them but didn't have to. Lowbacca and Kheykid were ascending via slow crawl, and he reached out with the Force to touch his old Master's mind. The Wookiee was focused on tracking Kheykid as the Barabel climbed further toward the pyramid's peak, but just feeling his presence was enough for Arlen to track his physical location. He tried to stay on-level with Lowbacca or a flight ahead, but when he felt the frenzy of a battle rejoined he broke into a sprint again, pumping his old legs and pushing himself up two more flights.
Darth Kheykid had been the first Sith Lord he'd ever faced. Kheykid had killed Tamar's sister, changing her life forever, and he'd captured Arlen's first apprentice and molded him into something horrible. This fight was personal, and it wasn't going to end without him.
-{}-
Lowbacca had chased Kheykid two-thirds of the way to the peak of the pyramid when the Barabel finally saw his chance. He didn't hesitate to take it. Without looking back at the Grand Master, without giving him a warning, Kheykid used all four limbs to push himself off the slope. He used the Force to spin himself in mid-air and re-ignite the sabers at his wrists. When he fell on Lowbacca they met blades-first. The Wookiee called his lightsaber to his right paw and held it in front of him while his left paw still grabbed onto the brick. Red sabers collided with gold and Kheykid brought both feet down onto the Wookie's shoulders. The force of impact tore his grip loose and both of them went tumbling down the slope. Kheykid felt scalding gold pain skim across his right bicep while one of his own blades jabbed Lowbacca in the stomach. The Barabel used a small push of the Force to direct their tumble onto the sole balcony jutting out from this side of the pyramid.
The landed together on the platform, then sprawled away. As they disentangled Lowbacca's lightsaber drew a scorched line down his right thigh, while Kheykid's blade burned through the fur over the Wookie's temple but just missed his skull. The Barabel buckled as he tried to stand with one bad leg. He stretched his tail out for balance and raised both sabers in front of him as the Wookiee got to his feet as well.
Then they were on each other again. They were both injured and dazed. Kheykid jabbed the tip of one blade into the Wookiee's side, drawing a scream but not slowing him down. He followed up with a messy one-armed swipe but Lowbacca caught his wrist and pulled so hard Kheykid's left shoulder dislocated with a pop. Pain overwhelmed him and his injured leg gave out. Even as he collapsed he struck out with his right-handed blade. He and the Wookie were so close their fangs flashed in each others' faces and Kheykid cut a strip of flesh and muscle from Lowbacca's sword-arm.
They collapsed on each other but Kheykid was on top, and he still had one blade he could use. Straddling the Wookiee, he rose up on his knees and drew his right arm back for a lethal blow. Their eyes met, and he knew he'd won. No matter what came next, even if the Battle Dragon overhead blasted this place to atoms and erased anyone who would tell of his accomplishment, he would know. He'd done Darth Xoran's legacy proud. He'd done himself proud. Kheykid felt filled to bursting with a predator's vicious joy.
And before he brought the blade down he felt a weight slam into him from behind, and then he did burst. A white nova filled his brain and exploded outward in a flash of white heat. Then the heat was gone, the nova gone, and everything left behind was as cold and dead as ancient stardust.
-{}-
When Arlen's blade plunged through the back of Kheykid's neck, through his skull and into his brain, there was a release of dark-side energy that burst through the wound, through his open mouth and the soft tissue of his eyes. It was bright enough to make Arlen flinch and pain tingled across his skin, but it only lasted a moment. Then the Barabel's corpse slumped on top of Lowbacca's.
Arlen grabbed the heavy body and tipped it off the Wookiee's. "Master? Are you okay? Master?"
Lowbacca gave a weak groan and struggled to sit up. Arlen scoured his torn robes and burnt, tangled fur. He had wounds alright; some minor, some deeper. The two stab wounds in his abdomen were the worst. Lowbacca raised his good arm and squeezed Arlen's shoulder harder. He roared gratitude but said he didn't think he could stand.
"Don't worry, Master, we'll get you something," Arlen said.
He reached with the Force to find the Jedi inside the pyramid. They were still fighting and hard, but they seemed to have winnowed down the Sith's numbers. The light was overcoming the dark but he knew none of these Sith would be taken alive. They'd fight to the last and kill more Jedi before they were done. He only hoped Master K'Kruhk was faring better in recovering the Sith younglings.
"Just stay here, Master. I'll get a healer. I promise."
Arlen stepped back from the Wookie, picked his lightsaber off the flagstones, and placed it in Lowbacca's paw. Then he hurried back inside the pyramid. Somewhere down below, Terrid and Jade were still alive and still fighting. He'd do what he could to help them, but until he made sure the Grand Master would survive, they'd have to fend for themselves.
-{}-
In the end, it was simply a battle between a Hapan Battle Dragon and an Imperial Pellaeon-class star destroyer. Even accounting for differences in crew proficiency and blind strokes of luck, there was only one way that matchup could end.
Once most of the Miy'tils had been destroyed, Marasiah and her fighters pulled to the edge of the battle zone. The view from there was astonishing. The double-disc and the bigger pale wedge had drawn close. The space between them was still aglow with exchanged turbolaser volleys, and while the Hapan ship had a faster rate of fire it simply had less guns than the Por Dun, less missile turrets, and most importantly, less powerful shields. Marasiah watched as its energy screens crumbled and the Por Dun's missile salvos began to chew the edges out of its upper disc.
It had not been lost on her or her husband that Davek bore some similarities to Hapes' Sith Queen. Both were self-appointed monarchs who'd waged war against partisans for an older regime, but likeness didn't stretch much further. Davek defended the changes his father had brought to the Empire while Queen Serissa brutally slaughtered those loyal to her grandmother. She'd returned Hapes to hermetic isolation while Davek had sought continued engagement with the rest of the galaxy. And, most relevant to this battle, Davek's battle with the Restorationists had forced his military to evolve. It had developed new tactics, new weapons, and most importantly, new vessels like the Pellaeon-class destroyer. Serissa's Hapans, for all their fanaticism, were using warships decades behind the times.
It was inevitable, but the Hapans kept fighting. Even at Kovix-589, most of the Restorationists had known when to surrender. Marasiah didn't know if it was some Sith compulsion that forced them to fight until the end or if Serissa had instilled suicidal devotion through secular means. In the end it didn't matter. They died just the same.
Marasiah watched from her cockpit as the Por Dun's missiles ripped a huge gash in the Battle Dragon's upper disc. A wash of turbolasers cut across it and obliterated the stout bridge tower. More blasts tore away the extended struts connecting the upper and lower discs. The explosions that cut the ship in half seemed to come from the inside, as if a reactor had overloaded. Even as the two discs drifted apart, the Por Dun continued to fire. Every meter of sleek silver hull became gnarled and black. Fires burned through everything until the star destroyer finally ceased its attack. Smoldering flames still furled out from the largest chunks of wreckage as the atmosphere trapped inside was sucked into fires, but there was only so much to burn. By the time the Por Dun started pulling the largest pieces of wreckage away from the planet with its tractor beam, the last burning had died out. Even the embers had gone cool.
-{}-
There was no hope to survive and no choice but to fight.
Wyyrlok moved more slowly for the wound in her side but its pain seemed to add strength to her power. Every time Terrid's saber clashed with hers, his own was nearly knocked from his hand. Jade struggled against the renewed blasts of Force lightning. It was hard to even get near Wyyrlok.
Terrid couldn't accept it would end like this. He hadn't savored revenge like expected but this was different. As he felt the dark power radiating off Wyyrlok he knew the power to be Krayt's, knew it was the power that had corrupted his life and so many others, and as he battled Wyyrlok he found a new kind of rage, not based on jealousy for her strength or self-hate for being outplayed. It was an anger based on grief for what he could have been, should have been, had the Sith not corrupted him.
The anger powered his attacks. It was not the power of the Jedi he should have been but it was the power he used.
When he next got close enough to slash Wyyrlok with his saber he instead held the sword up to block and unleashed a close-range blast of lightning. It caught her head-on, scalding a face already torn by scars and boils as it burned from the inside. Wyyrlok let out a pained screech and Jade took it as her signal to attack from the side, aiming for the same hole she'd carved in the Sith earlier.
Then Wyyrlok spun. Black robes flew in both their faces. Terrid jumped back but not before a lightsaber lanced out of the swirl and caught him in the side. He staggered back as pain blossomed from beneath his left lung. He still raised his saber in defense but Wyyrlok had turned her attention into Jade. A blast of lightning had caught the Jedi in the middle of a diagonal swing, stunning her, and Wyyrlok, still spinning, lowered her lightsaber to cut through Jade's thigh.
The Jedi screamed and collapsed. A flick of the Force hurled her through the air. Jade landed on her shoulder and rolled. Her leg was still attached but Terrid could see the black scorch-mark of a cut that had gone halfway through, probably slicing bone. It would be impossible to stand on.
"A Skywalker who denies her full strength!" Wyyrlok spat blood. "An overgrown child pretending to be a Sith! Pathetic! None of you have Darth Krayt's vision. None of you could understand his power."
That power was clearly eating her from the inside. Lightning was sparking at random across her exposed skin, carving more black scars by the minute. Blood ran from the corners of her eyes and teeth looked like charred embers in her mouth. He'd felt Jade's thoughts as they battled her, and she was right. Wyyrlok was a bomb about to burst, and once they died her flesh would no longer contain the Force storm swirling inside her. It could easily bring down this vestibule, and with it a thousand tons of stone.
Enough to kill Krayt, surely.
Especially if that door was open.
As he sent that thought to Jade- and it passed so naturally, as it had when they'd been apprentices so long ago- Wyyrlok began to stagger toward Terrid. "You are the worst," she said. "Not Jedi. Not Sith. No vision, no purpose. Just a lifetime of fumbling with no direction… Just like a vermin… You don't deserve to use the Force."
Terrid swayed on his feet. He was lucky lightsabers cauterized wounds; otherwise the gut-stab would have bled him out already. His strength was fading fast but he could last long enough if Jade did what he'd told her.
"I'll put you out of your misery… And then the Skywalker…" Wyyrlok panted as she lurched closer. Almost in striking range. She broken too, dying, so damned slow. "And then… perhaps… the Jedi can send someone better."
One more step. He sent Jade to wait. "Don't count on it," Terrid rasped.
She took the last step. Jade, lying on the floor, too hurt to stand, whole body aching with pain, nonetheless drew on her great well of power to grab the doors to Krayt's sanctum. Of all the Sith Terrid knew, only Wyyrlok had the power to pull them open. Jade did more than pull. With a crack of thunder she wrenched them off their hinges and threw the stone giants onto the vestibule floor.
The flagstones buckled and shattered. Wyyrlok was shocked and lost balance but Terrid threw himself forward and thrust his saber down, through her stomach, through her hip. He cut her open and dark scalding power burst out of her. Terrid simply stood there, ready to die in her blast and die with Krayt, regretting only that Jade had to die too-
Dark energy stormed through his body, scalding him, blinding him with pain, but he did not die.
The pain did not relent. He struggled to find sense through it. He pried opened his eyes and saw Wyyrlok's face, red marks now overwhelmed by black burn scars, blood streaming from her eyes and mouth. She'd collapsed to the ground and he was bent over her, but her arm was stretched up and her hand around was his throat. Lightning cracked all over her skin, danced up her arm, and scalded his face. He tried to scream but her vice-grip stole all breath.
His lightsaber had fallen from his hand. He couldn't defend himself. Even his anger was useless against this bursting vessel of Darth Krayt's power.
Not like this, he thought. Not like this.
And then a flash of violet cut across his vision. He was thrown back by another burst of painful energy, worse than even before, but it disappeared just as soon as it came. Terrid found himself lying on his back, on those cracked black-and-red stones. His whole body wracked with agony but he rolled onto his side and tried to look around. First he saw Wyyrlok's arm, severed at the elbow. Then he saw Jade's lightsaber. Then he saw Jade and Wyyrlok both, lying far apart, both crumpled on the floor as helpless as he was. Lightning still sparked over the Sith's piled black robes.
Terrid reached out with the Force and felt Jade still conscious. He rolled onto his stomach and tried to crawl, pulling himself with hands and elbows. He grabbed Jade's saber on the way and tried to kick but it made the pain in his speared-through stomach worse. He pulled himself anyway. Darkness clouded his vision and threatened to swallow him but he kept crawling. Darkness went, came again, went. When he got close to Jade he reached out and placed his hand over hers, lightsaber between their palms, fingertips locked together.
"Tha… Thank you," Terrid rasped.
He bent his neck back to watch her eyes flicker open. Is it… over?"
"Very soon." Terrid adjusted his head so he could see Wyyrlok again. She was crawling too, using her remaining hand to drag herself between the fallen stone doors, through the high threshold and into her master's chamber. Terrid's vision blurred, but he could still see the raised dais and outer casing of Darth Krayt's coffin.
When she died the energy from Krayt would be released. It would destroy her, destroy Krayt, bring down this roof and destroy Jade and him too.
He would have been satisfied with that, but he didn't want Jade Skywalker to die. Terrid, Wyyrlok, and Krayt deserved whatever ugly fate awaited Dark Siders after death. But not her. She deserved life.
"Can you… walk?" he whispered.
She didn't respond at first and he was afraid she'd passed out. He tried to nudge her with the Force. She groaned and said, "I can't… can't stand… and… no place… to go."
She was right. Hope lay two hundred meters over their heads and there was no way to ascent the shaft. He watched Wyyrlok drag herself over the threshold rim, closer to Krayt's coffin. More sparks flashed off her dying body. Almost the end now. He tried to be satisfied. Dying with Jade was better than he deserved.
Darkness, light. Darkness, light. Consciousness fading in and out. Intimations of death and life's stubborn refusal. It couldn't last.
He thought he heard a voice: Jade? Jade? Wharn? A memory, maybe. He tried to place that voice.
And then two boots stomped in front of his face. Terrid jerked against the floor and rolled onto his back. He saw Arlen Fel crouching over him and Jade, examining both.
"You're alive," he marveled. "You're both alive."
"Can't walk…" Jade said.
"Don't worry. We've got a fiberchord rigged and people up top ready to bring you up. Just hold on."
"Wait," Terrid croaked. He tried to gesture to Wyyrlok. "She's not… dead… yet."
Arlen put a hand on his lightsaber. "Then I'll finish her."
"No. When she dies… All Krayt's power…"
"Like a bomb," Jade said with a blood-flecked cough. "We need to get out."
Arlen looked back at them. "Okay. Okay. I'll call a couple more people down, they can get you both, and then-"
"No time," he said. He placed his palms on the flagstones and tried to push himself upright. Arlen helped him sit, then helped pull Jade up. Her face was darkened by dirt, flecked with blood laced by burn scars. Despite it all she looked resilient.
"Take her. Hurry," he rasped to Arlen. "We all know… which of us deserves… to survive."
Arlen and Jade looked at each other, and then back at him, and at that moment he felt like he was seeing them as they could have been, as they should have been, as they never would be: an old master and an old friend.
Jade stretched out a hand. "Wharn… Thank you."
He reached. Fingertips pressed fingertips. A bit of strength passed between them, a bit of warmth. A bit of what should have been. It was enough.
Arlen cradled Jade in both arms and lifted her up, taking special care with her leg. He remained seated on the floor and watched Arlen carry her out of the chamber, through the short hallway, into the darkness where the wrecked lift tube and their ride up waited.
He waited too. He didn't hear them ascend. He fumbled out with his weakening Force powers to sense them, but they were far away. They were safe. He was satisfied.
He waited. He was surprised to be still alive. He planted his palms on the floor and tried to push himself upright. Pain stabbed out from his abdomen and racked his body, but he kept pushing. He found a little bit of the Force to pull himself upright. He swayed. The world spun and blurred and tempted toward darkness, then grew light again. He was still alive.
He started toward Darth Krayt's sanctum in slow, staggering steps. Each one hurt but it got easier to shamble as he went along. The threshold edged closer. The threshold surrounded him and swallowed him and when he stepped inside the final chamber he saw Darth Wyyrlok's black-cloaked form pulled hallway upright, leaning with her back against the side of Krayt's coffin. Her chest moved very slowly. Sparks had turned her whole face black and charred her eyes. Her remaining hand was in her lap, clutching a sharp black fragment from one of the cracked flagstones.
Then he looked into the coffin. The translucent crystal lid was still in place, but beneath it, he saw nothing.
The coffin was empty. Krayt was not there.
He caught the coffin's edged to keep from collapsing. He didn't understand. He looked at Wyyrlok to see the Sith's head tilted up at his, staring up at him with sightless eyes.
"This is the power that could never be yours," Darth Wyyrlok said, and drove the black shard into her breast. He was overwhelmed by what exploded out of her: pain, heat, awful light, and the final darkness.