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A: S
"Captain Roove Tal."
The young warrior stood and turned with military precision. He marched toward the tall attendant who waited a stone's throw away.
Roove was discipline incarnate. His black hair was pressed against his skull, his face clean-shaven, and his left hand firmly gripped the hilt of a ceremonial sword as the other swung at his side. He was fair-skinned, even for a human, and his eyes were the green of densely packed fir trees.
The attendant, a Quermian, towering nearly ten feet, robed in black with accents of purple, gracefully swiveled and led Roove up a staircase. It took three steps at a time upsetting Roove's trained gate... and temper. He did not appreciate the rush.
At the height of the stair, the Quermian gestured with a lengthy arm toward a domed door. The door's many interlocking layers spiraled open, revealing a half moon-shaped chamber with the stars for windows. Six seats sat upon a dais encircling a platform which Roove stepped onto. It raised with his weight.
From the center, he bowed to the six figures hidden in the dark.
He was ready. Somehow, this moment was why his father had braved inhospitable terrain, wretched meals, and sleepless vigils in the militia back home. He had whipped his son into deadly prowess, molding him.
One of the figures stood in the gray light. He was an elderly human, well groomed and dressed in midnight blue. Curiously, his right hand quivered slightly. A droid, no larger than a Wookie's head, hovered before him. The figure tapped a screen on the back, and the pale light further aged the man.
"Captain Tal," the electrical voice began, "Known to all of us. Your pedigree is beyond question, for your father is dearly missed. Your command and skill displayed on Mustafar, Ahch-to, Coruscant, and Batuu is most impressive. We asked for your interest in this critical matter, and are prepared to hear your master plan." The elder sat.
From inside his suit, Roove produced a small flat disc. He activated it, and it floated in front of him before peeling back its outer shell. A red light whirled about it as a projection of a large temple in a low motte exploded out of the disc and enveloped Roove and the platform. He passed through high walls, gutters collecting the river, and the endless surrounding forest.
"The temple is vast," he began. "It's hidden position in the northern forests is part of its strength. It is near impossible to approach without alarm. In the past, assaults from the air, via the river, and even underground have all been turned back... rather easily." He relished the failures of others. "What I propose is altogether different."
The projection zoomed out and flew across the forest to foothills where great boulders sat between bent and misshapen trees.
"This mass of earth, stone, and branch is not far from the temple and is adjacent to the river. There are caves and tunnels throughout, a result of natural processes. It would not be difficult to upset this formation and obstruct the river. Furthermore, this could be done in a manner disguising our intervention. Why the ruse? If the river is strangled, the Jedi will investigate. No more than a small band. When they do not return, more will come."
The projection displayed ships disappearing at the rocks.
"And so on, until a force comes that requires our revelation. By then it will be too late. The separation of forces will be their undoing."
An attack above the temple ends the simulation.
"The Jedi are strong. Their power sees where their sensors cannot. Stealth is critical. We must land on the far side of the planet and trek without detection across the mountains and deserts until we come to the tunnels. This will be perilous, and the deployment cannot depend on advanced weaponry and equipment."
Council heads turn, a muffled word here and there. An elder spoke, "What do you seek?"
"Time," Roove answered. "Both tool belt and mind must be empty if I am to fool the revered temple masters. I will choose a landing force who carry nothing into the mission. This means, my lords, that the Sith are unwelcome. A cloak is useless in the mid-day sun. There can only be empty obedience."
Silence.
The old man stood again. He peered down a snobbish grin at Roove, who mustered his training to endure it. "This temple has too long been a thorn in the side of not just the Sith, but many enterprises, alliances, and star systems that resent the imposed virtues of the self-righteous Jedi. Fortunately, patience we have in abundance. We ask for yours now."
Roove bowed low. He turned and allowed himself a small, confident smile.
Deep within the temple that wore the leaves of the wood, two learners sat upon stone, eyes closed in concentration. The spacious room allowed light in through high slits in the walls, painting the chamber in playful stripes. At the room's opposites, two gutters ran the length, carrying water from under the wall into a pool and then out. The pool was very still.
Their training stretched their minds to peer into the darkness, revealing the creatures that swung between limbs, and crawled upon the floor. The force, living in all things, was like a window into every corner.
This was the padawan watch. For hours at a time, students came to this chamber to act as the eyes and ears of the order, weeding out the unnatural.
A large hill of boulders glued together by time, twisting vines, and acrobatic trees; a loud cracking and a boulder careened down.
One padawan opened his gray eyes. He was a teenage human, nearly of age, and a quick-wit, often drenching his constantly quaking nerves in jokes. He looked at his companion, a Twi'lek girl, a few years his junior, orange skin and piercing blue eyes.
"Did you feel that?" she asked.
"I saw it," he answered. "It came down on top of me."
"Perhaps a quake."
"Or an avalanche."
"Could it have been caused by someone?" she wondered.
"Not likely. I would have felt that." The Twi'lek suspected he might be overestimating his abilities. It would not be the first time an outsider had touched down on the planet undetected. Still, some masters felt disturbances worlds away.
"I think we should check," she suggested. The young man frowned.
"It's probably nothing," he protested.
"The nearest fault lines are out in the valleys. A very powerful one could have dislodged boulders, but at that magnitude everyone would know. And, it was only one boulder."
She was right. The human sighed, discouraged that his watch required verification.
He reluctantly descended stone steps to a lower door. It slid open. The Twi'lek followed him into a chamber filled with surveillance equipment. The human tapped one of the screens and found the coordinates. The forest was vast, covering thousands of square kilometers. In context, the temple sat in the outer rim. A display showed the rock formation and an analysis typed out on the screen.
"Sediment erosion," he read. "The caves beneath are collapsing. Likely the constant wash from the river." He ended the display. "Told you it was nothing." He went past her, but she stayed a moment, thinking.
"Let's go out there."
He turned. "What?"
"After our watch. Let's have a look."
"Have fun."
"How about a race?" She grinned. Now, he couldn't resist a challenge.
Two river skimmers shot upriver, cutting between rocks. The vehicles featured a long durable rod connecting a bulbous sensor at the bottom to a table-like platform where a Jedi padawan stood, knees bent, intently focused, holding onto nothing but air.
River skimming was a recent sport invented by Jedi for Jedi. The objective was to keep the sensor just under the surface of the river while maintaining enough speed to beat your opponent to the finish. The skimmers were equipped with propulsion enough to breach 100 km per hour, and gloves that controlled speed.
But only training in the force could keep the skimmers balanced just below the water's sheen. Otherwise, they naturally rose out of the water.
The difficulty increased when waterfalls, rocks, or choppy waves appeared. The sensor was programmed to power down the skimmer if it rose too high.
The two learners switch backed as they maneuvered around jagged death. It was considered an even greater achievement to not get wet. Legend was that only one Jedi had ever done this.
Non-force sensitive competitors were known to race, indeed a growing number were attracted to its difficulty. But without the force, it was nearly impossible.
The river narrowed and the human edged out the Twi'lek. Both were dressed in sandy brown, wrapped leggings, and tucked in vests to ensure that nothing snagged. The sport was not about showmanship, rather an exercise in balance; one of the prime teachings of the order.
Koda, the Twi'lek, noticed it first. The river sagged just below the waterline. Darker soil was exposed. "Veetoan!" she called, but her friend, like all men, saw nothing but his goal. Koda, increasingly unconcerned with the race, maneuvered closer to Veetoan.
"Veet!" Koda shouted again. The river's predicament was becoming obvious now. The edge of the forest floor was more than a foot above the water's glass. More rocks and riverweed appeared ahead, but Veetoan was oblivious, no doubt embracing the challenge rather than questioning his senses. Koda edged right beside him. "Veet, the river!"
Veetoan shot out to dodge a large boulder rising up to split the river before a short falls. Koda allowed her skimmer to zoom straight out instead of mimicking the surface. Her sensor blared and lit red slowing the skimmer down. Veetoan was not slowing. Koda raised her hand and knocked Veetoan off balance forcing his skimmer above the surface and triggering the sensor. The skimmer slowed and Veetoan fumed.
"Have you lost your mind?!" Veet shouted. Koda just shook her head. "You knew I was about to win, but no, no, no, you can't lose, can you?"
"Veet, the river."
"You know cheating is a path to the dark side."
"Veet, look at the stupid river!" Koda gestured annoyed and Veetoan finally surveyed his surroundings. He lifted his golden visor and drank in the shrinking river.
"What's happened?" he thought aloud.
"Finally!" Koda exclaimed. "The race wasn't the point, remember." Taking manual control of the skimmers, they continued above the water. The change in volume was exponentially accelerating. The river was born in the mountains, deep in the forest. It wound its way through the timberland before leaving it behind and emptying into a vast swamp beyond the dry valley.
The river was now more than a dozen feet below the edges of the canyon it had carved in the soil eons ago. Before long it was no more than a stream and then only damp dirt, plant, and rock remained. The padawans halted in front of a huge mountain of rock and earth. Koda flew around the slide and beheld the river on the other side, pouring into the obstruction and around, soaking everything, forming pools in places where fauna investigated.
Veetoan inspected the other side, where the origins of the slide became clear. "Koda!" She came in a hurry. "Look here." He jumped off the skimmer and gathered a handful of soil. "Definitely a collapse."
Koda nodded in agreement. "We should free the river."
"It will take more than our combined effort," Veetoan sighed.
"Yes, but we can begin."
Veetoan touched one of the massive rocks. "Likely weighs as much as 100 runners." Runners were nimble craft, nearly twenty feet in length, resembling a crescent moon extending out on each side to a point, accommodating two to three passengers designed for planetary surveillance. Their in-atmosphere speed was impressive, but it was their agility in tight squeezes and harrowing corners that made them indispensable.
Koda concentrated and lifted one of the large trunks that had been smashed to pieces by the falling rocks. She moved it from the river bed to the forest. As soon as it rested, Koda took a deep breath.
"Pity no one's watching," Veetoan lamented.
"Then let's make it interesting," Koda grinned. "Whoever can lift moret. Makes up for the race. Then we alert the temple."
Veetoan nodded confidently.
Both underestimated the accelerating drainage.
The temple was animated with activity. Near its heart, the tallest of trees loomed over an open square like ancient mentors. In the square were dozens of padawans training. Two great waterfalls channeling the river's water fell from the height of the walls and vanished below the square into the temple.
At one motion dozens of staves, fists, and feet flew through the air. Others lifted themselves and objects off the ground while still others engaged in hand-to-hand combat.
A 'Peace Carrier', 30 tons and 18 meters of drop-ship, appeared above. They were used primarily for offsite training and a more realistic implant into conflicts or disasters. Despite the temple's hidden presence, removed from the wiles of the galaxy, no one was taught to ignore.
Standing on the ship was a solitary Jedi. He leapt from the landing craft into the middle of the square, kicking up dust as he struck the ground. He rose to his full height.
Luss Fol, an Iktotchi, tall and old for his species. A wide circle of learners formed around him. It was tradition that one of the resident masters would unexpectedly 'drop' in and challenge any who accepted a duel. Luss was not like any other master. At every chance, he swept aside rumors that the sunset of his life had arrived. A leap from seventy feet in the air quieted the entire square. Luss raised his giant hands and smiled.
"Who accepts the challenge?" his withered voice asked. A female Mirialan student stepped forward. Lightsabers were not allowed in training, but the master's challenge was a notable exception. She lit her blue saber and wove it in patterns, taking an aggressive stance. Luss lit his own green saber.
The Mirialan rushed and lunged but Luss repelled her agile attacks. In a flash he tripped her. A series of coughs escaped him. Fallen from her feet, the student bowed and backed away.
It had been a long time since a padawan had defeated a master. Only one had.
A Nautolan male came forward, holding his saber backwards, flushed with his arm. He bounced on his feet. Luss turned to face him. But neither continued.
Heads began turning. The clamor of the waterfalls had ceased. This was a first. Padawans began murmuring. A few of the knights raced toward the square's exit. Others headed for the stairs that climbed the walls.
They saw the barren riverbed, like a dark vein running through the forest. Younglings stretched their toes to see.
Luss neared the stained wall where the water was cascading only moments ago and touched the damp stone. For the first time in decades, he was surprised.
Veetoan strained; his arms felt like lead rather than flesh. The one ton boulder was mere inches above the great heap of rock, branch, and soil. He exhaled as he released and the boulder crashed down taking a few more rocks with it before crashing into the great trunk of a tree shaking the forest.
Koda sent a hail of smaller rocks and branches flying. With a slow wave of her hand, she collaborated with gravity rather than defying it.
Veetoan paused to catch his breath then leapt to the top of the rock pile he had shortened. "Koda!" he called. He squatted down. Exposed was bare soil and a gaping hole. The sunlight shone into the hole revealing a portion of the walls caved in. "One of the tunnels."
"How many could be down there?" Koda wondered.
"Perhaps it might be easier to free the river if the stones sank into the earth," Veetoan postulated.
"Sure, and bury yourself," Koda snickered.
"I don't think so."
"Clearly the water eroded the stone and soil, thus causing this whole mess. I suspect none of the original tunnels survived. Small sections, maybe. You don't know when the next avalanche will happen. You go down there, you don't come out."
Koda's argument was sound. Veetoan shook his head. "We're Jedi, not squimps." Squimps were known as nature's failure, small pinkish insects that slithered through loose ground, consuming nutrients. They were an easy meal for anythng.
"We're not Jedi yet," Koda remarked.
"Stay here if you want or go back and bring every Master. I'll be done by then. Veetoan thrust his hand downward and a blast of the force pressed the disrupted dirt and rocks against the walls. Veetoan jumped down and disappeared.
"Veet!" Koda shouted too late. She knew how Veetoan thought. He was doomed unless she save him. Koda leapt down.
A Peace Carrier flew beneath gathering clouds. The air temperature dropped rapidly as the wind strengthened. A storm could break soon. Jedi Knight, Dian Sarama, a Togratu who had arrived in a spectacular crash some years back, looked grimly out at the forest from the bow of the carrier. She stood between two pilots, one a Cerean male and the other a human male. "Signal?" she questioned.
"Nothing, no lifeforms," the human co-pilot responded. Dian did not hide her disappointment. Two missing padawans, plus another four who were meant to be their rescue.
Dian knew Koda and Veetoan and was especially fond of Koda's self-control. She hoped to fast-track Koda for knighthood by becoming a personal mentor.
Koda and Veet's skimmers were sending steady pulses from the avalanche of stone and earth. The area was now of great interest since the river's silence. Dian glanced behind her. Eight padawans stood holding the secure lines in the main hull of the carrier, ready to follow her. Their mission was to free the river, but Dian suspected that this had become much more.
A great gathering of chattering padawans was assembled in the grand circle.
The circular hall was usually alive with celebration, not debate.
A Mirialan girl insisted, "They will go themselves."
"No," a human boy shook his head, gazing at the council door. "The masters will not leave unless they have no choice. That is their way."
"This is not an accident or common force of nature," a young Zabrak male argued. "There is an unnatural darkness out there. An hour has passed and the peace carrier hasn't returned. The masters have no choice."
"This is unprecedented," the Mirialan agreed. "I say dispatch a large force, led by the masters. Perhaps what's out there can still be overrun before it reaches us."
"They have another choice," a Twi'lek girl spoke up.
"What?" the Zabrak asked incredulously.
The Twi'lek looked up at them confidently. "Him." They knew whom she meant.
A second Peace Carrier followed the river at a much lower altitude. The hull opened and a young Magis, his dark skin contrasted by the vivid lines of ruby running down his face, arms, and body, stood poised. It was like war paint, yet it was his birthmark, common to all of his species. His eyes were fiery, and the wind whipped his senses as he searched the forest floor.
Dead fish littered the barren basin, some still flopping in distress. The far grosser were the larger specimens, fearsome in their element, but utterly helpless now.
A flash of dead bodies spewn along a long dark hallway.
Magis shook himself of the memory… or vision. He turned to see if any had seen.
Accompanying the newly knighted Jedi were two padawans; a human and a Tholothian. From the cockpit the pilot spoke into the comm. "60 seconds to drop." Magis gestured to the other side and the padawans took up positions. "30 seconds." Magis breathed deeply. His eyes were closed, but he saw the great heap of ruin choking the river bed and the waters spilling out into the forest. He sensed a cloud of sinister confusion beneath the soil.
"May the force be with you," the pilot called. Magis and the padawans leapt from the carrier and landed atop a great stone, far from its original home. Magis immediately focused on the inhibited river. He raised his hands and stones began lifting from the river's path, settling higher in the hills from whence they came. The padawans watched in awe.
The young knight freed the river in seconds. He was already a legend; the only padawan to defeat a master in the traditional challenge and the youngest to claim knighthood.
Two years before he had almost single-handedly ended a raid by off world pirates, who had stumbled upon the temple by accident. What they considered a treasure trove soon proved a nightmare after Magis found their camp. He routed it without permission and became much more than a man, though some suspected him on the edge of darkness.
The river burst through the new opening and took some smaller and mid-sized stones with it, lodging them in new homes. Magis located one of the openings into the tunnels below.
"You do not have to come," Magis offered. He jumped into the tunnel. Sensing the approaching ground, he lit his saber of pure white and pressed his palm down. A buffet of air controlled by the force slowed his free fall allowing him to hit the ground safely. He stood and felt the chill of the dark side. He lifted his saber and moved through the darkness.
He had heard the passing news that a collapse of rock had disturbed the forest and was training in the arena when word of the silent waterfalls engulfed the temple.
Strange he still wondered. Why did we not feel this? Why did we not see? It was clear to all that malice stood behind the apparent natural forces. Magis could not understand. He hated that feeling. What's more, the pain of lost lives was creeping across everyone's skin.
Seventeen brothers and sisters were missing from the family. Perhaps permanently.
Every sound was amplified; every shadow enormous.
He noted the steady stream of water running down the walls and pillars holding the cavern aloft. Water dripped from the ceilings as well. How could unnatural designs achieve this? He wondered as he searched. How could a scheme this large be hidden from the masters? Even though not a master, Magis' pride pounced at every opportunity.
Suddenly the ceiling gave way. Magis rolled away. Only a piece of the ceiling fell, creating a fat pillar. Magis encircled it. Natural by all senses, but not quite right; the cave-in was precisely where he had been. The fallen earth was wet, but the intact ceiling above was dry.
Magis continued at a slight run, observing more cave-ins. Then something else caught his eye. A Togrutan hand under the soil and stone. Magis lifted more of it. Dian. Her face was bloodied and her eyes open, creating a horrifying shiver down Magis' spine. A single water drop fell onto the back of his neck. He glanced upward and held his lightsaber aloft. More water fell, turning into a steady trickle. It hissed as it struck the blade.
Magis leapt away as another crash came down. Wrath swelled in him. Patience was not his virtue, nor was prudence. "Show yourself!" He stared into the gloom.
The two padawans that had accompanied Magis lay dead on the rock. Roove watched the projection of Magis. "This one," … Roove calculated … "bury him." The projection ended.
More water peaked through the ceiling. The walls were now soaked in water, softening much quicker. It became as a light rain inside the cavern. Magis ran back to the tunnel entrance, no more than a small patch of light at this distance. Then many crashes and all went dark.
Jedi Master Dag Endo, a middle-aged eternal optimist, paced in the grand assembly. All padawans and knights had been sent back to their chores and training to keep their minds occupied. The river had returned, but due to Magis' unresponsiveness, a larger force of fifty, mostly knights, had assembled and was on its way to the avalanche. Luss Fol sat in one of the rows, occasionally lifted a great goblet to his mouth, and wiped the spill from his mouth.
Dag spoke to no one, "He has not made a decision." His voice was elegant and smooth. Luss let out a low burp.
"He won't make a decision," Luss thought aloud.
"The council gave its recommendation," Dag remarked.
"Indeed," Luss replied.
"Master Pax did not say much."
"Likely was meditating. He's always meditating," Luss commented. "It's awkward. One time -" Dag held up his hand and Luss drank, digressing.
"There is a plot. It's nefarious; thick with camouflage. So why the wait?"
"Because that's what Jedi do," Luss answered. "We wait. Some do." He smiled.
"A grand master should know when to wait and when to act," Dag asserted, his pacing increasing.
Luss took on a grave face. "This is about your apprentice." Dag nodded. "Any word?" He shook his head. "Are you worried?"
"No," Dag answered. "Not for him but for-" A chill ran down their spines. The ceiling shook. Luss was on his feet and his goblet clanged on the marble floor.
Dag hit the comms unit. "All Jedi to war posts! Children and non-essential to vaults!" He and Luss hurried out the large doors of the assembly and made their way to the roof. The temple shields were holding but a large warship, resembling a serrated dagger, hovered near, pounding them. Smaller fighters flew by with disruptors followed by similar fighters armed with flak cannons. The disruptors weakened the shields enough for shot pieces to make it through.
Jedi manned laser turrets while others scrambled for cover. Then it worsened. Figures dropped from ships onto the roof. They drew weapons lit with a kind of energy. Dag watched in horror as one cut down an unprepared padawan. A Jedi lit his saber and began to fight the assassin. Dag leapt to help. The assassin was joined by several others; before Dag could reach them they slew the Jedi. They turned on him. He killed one and repelled the others. More Jedi came to help.
Luss appeared and slew two. He shouted, "Go! Get to control." Luss relished the fight.
Dag entered a control bay. Projected displays showed different sections of the temple; bunkers, gardens, training, assembly, entrances and exits, and the roof where the battle, so far, was contained. Dag watched.
"How many?"
"Thirty small fighters counted so far," a human female padawan replied. "Six flagships. The attackers are dropping in by the dozens. More of our own are assembling on the roof."
Luss engaged the skilled assassins. Several padawans were already dead, along with two knights. The battle spilled over into the lower areas. All doors were sealed from the outside, but the assault was beginning to own the temple's exterior. More worked their way to the turrets. Luss and a few Jedi concentrated on protecting the turrets.
"Shields are holding," the padawan remarked.
"How long?" Dag asked.
"The warships have an unusually dense haul that we can't penetrate thus far. If the bombardment keeps up, I'd say fifteen more minutes before our shields go cold."
"Where did they come from? How could we be so unprepared?" The padawan gazed up at the master without an answer. But he tried.
"Planetary scans showed nothing until just before the attack. They weren't there. And then they were."
A fighter was coming by for another pass. Luss caught it with the force, somewhat of a strain, and threw it toward the warship. The fighter exploded on impact, but the warship kept up the hellfire. Dag contacted Luss, "Luss, we've got to hit those flagships or the temple will be in ruins by supper."
"Why do you complicate my fun!" Luss declared as he fought another. He shouted into the comm, "Concentrate on the warships. Find a weak spot!" He spotted a peace carrier hover above the temple on the other side of the open training arena. But instead of Jedi, Roove stepped off and turned. Luss knew this one was different; here was a leader, and a deadly one.
"Dag!" Luss called. "The boss has arrived."
"You sound tired." Dag commented.
"It'll pass. You, however, are ugly, no changing that," Luss retorted.
"Master, another breach," called a padawan in control.
"Evacuate that vicinity. Activate interior defenses," Dag instructed. The temple was filled with hidden traps, turrets, and other mechanisms. The assassins would be hard-pressed to memorize and avoid them. Still, Dag was distressed. The death count was rising exponentially. Never before had an outside force infiltrated the temple and yet this assault had breached in four places in less than a heartbeat.
Roove's assassins met three Jedi knights. Roover noted a secondary passage and motioned for four to accompany. The remaining guard engaged the Jedi.
"Kill all you find." The assassins broke off. Roove continued alone. He entered a long corridor. The temple shook in intervals and Roove melted into the darkness as padawans and knights raced by. He stepped on a platform that, triggered by his weight, rose into the air and filled in a hole in the floor of another level.
The Nautolan who had challenged Luss had his back to the platform. He turned, startled. "Who are you?" Roove did not answer. He approached. The Nautolan lit his saber. He leapt toward Roove and attacked. Roove maneuvered, avoiding several strikes, then landed a debilitating blow to the padawan's leg. The Nautolan had no time to counter before a metal blade arcing with energy sliced through his chest.
Roove produced a small device that projected a partial three-dimensional layout of the temple. The projection grew as his troops advanced. Roove proceeded through the doors and down a side stairway. He needed to find one of the Jedi masters. Killing one would demoralize the Jedi and pave the way for a larger Sith invasion. To him, the Sith were cowards, unwilling to act unless victory was assured.
The temple's defenses were proving inadequate as well thanks to Roove's patient execution. But a Jedi master was not to be underestimated. He thought the Jedi on the roof may have been one. It was difficult to be sure. Masters did not identify themselves with decoration. Roove would count on his instincts.
He entered one of the mess halls and noted the large pillars. He wished he could raze the place to the ground, but the Sith had paid extra for restraint.
A peace carrier climbed the sky and led others toward the flagship. A dozen Jedi leapt from the carriers onto the warship. Luss shook his fist in delight.
The Mirialan, Twi'lek, and human raced through the temple before pausing for a breather against a wall. "Did they see us?" the Mirialan female asked, twitterpated with fear.
The Twi'lek girl shook her head. "I don't think so," the human male replied, panting.
"Let's keep going," the Twi'lek suggested. "Master Dag needs the intel. Comms are going dark faster than we can run."
"Did you try it again?" the Mirialan asked.
"Nothing."
"OK," the human straightened. Suddenly, a loud BOOM and the ground shook under them. "What was that?"
"One of the warships might be down," the Twi'lek guessed. They jogged to the next hall and stopped surprised. Roove did not halt his steady gate. The Twi'lek formed an aggressive stance armed with twin vibroblades. Both the human and Mirialan lit sabers.
Roove let out a disappointed "tisk tisk". The human charged first. Roove dodged and sliced the length of the boy's arm. He cut the Mirialan's back then faced the Twi'lek. He was impossibly fast. Another stroke missed, and he tossed her into the Mirialan.
They surrounded him. He parried a lightsaber then split the human's leg, moving like a phantom between them. The two girls attacked. Roove opened the Mirialan's stomach and threw the Twi'lek against the wall. He approached the her, but a wave of the force knocked him back and his blade slid across the floor.
Luss snarled. Roove got on his feet like a cat and took in the Iktotchi. He knew he had found a master. Luss' manner betrayed his physical state, but Roove saw a sharp mind behind the eyes. He rolled back and gathered his blade, drawing another. Luss lunged, and the fight was on. Roove was much faster but Luss' experience held its own. The master landed several strikes until Roove adapted his fighting technique. He made Luss work for every blow, and noted the increased times to block, attack, and maneuver. Luss was slowing exponentially.
Luss knew it too. Even the skilled assassins had not been more than 10 seconds each to slay. This was different. He had lost the upper hand early, and now he was straining. He embraced it, leaning on his old ally, the force. He countered, but Roove found his mark and drove both blades through.
The big Iktotchi fell to his knees and sighed. His time had come, and he was glad that battle had taken him. He stared up at Roove and grinned a toothy grin. Roove wrenched the blades out of him and Luss fell back. Roove glanced around. The Twi'lek held the expiring Mirialan in her arms; the human lay still.
Roove's device projected the temple. It was half complete as his assassins spread like locusts through a defenseless crop. But the spread had curiously slowed.
Silence between assassins was essential. The Sith had promised a larger force once Roove's plan proved itself. He glanced at the dead master, then activated a code in the device. Now the Sith knew a master was dead. Roove scanned the Iktotchi so the triumph could be verified.
He stepped to the right quickly as the Twi'lek's vibroblades fell. She landed a quick jab in Roove's side, and he winced. She lunged again, but he spun away and kicked her against the wall. He dove at her for the finish, but his blade was held firm, inches from her throat.
The sound of a lightsaber turned their attention to further down the hall. It was a white blade and the Twi'lek's eyes widened. Only one Jedi she knew of had a weapon like that. Roove tried to make out a face.
Magis, caked in mud, his crimson skin lines glistening with sweat, emerged from the shadows. Roove uselessly pressed against the invisible force with all his might, finally relinquishing. Magis held up his saber and advanced.
In a flash, he poured it on. Roove parried, quickly relying on every ounce of skill and instinct. Never before had he faced a power such as this; like a child in a hurricane. Roove felt his hand shredded, then a blow to his face and the saber rip through his chest.
Just like that... it was over.
Roove rested on the floor, in harrowing surprise, his breaths very labored for what seemed like hours.
An assassin stood over him. It removed its helmet; not one of Roove's trained pawns. This was a human with a narrow, reddened face, and disturbingly light cream eyes. The man stared at Roove apathetically.
"Captain Roove Tal. Ignorant fools? Blind old men? No. We are not useless philosophers. We prefer taste to waste. We dream of designs far grander than your bloody peddling. " He grabbed Roove's face. "We are the Sith… and we do not disappoint."
He pressed his boot upon Roove until the renowned captain was lifeless.
From passageway to passageway, Magis helped the Twi'lek past the bodies of padawans, knights, and assassins. His eyes burned with mud and tears. Magis brought her into the primary open-air garden, forced to stop under the weight of his own rage.
He softly laid the Twi-lek down into the embrace of a giant Oru tree; its golden leaves conjuring a twinkling effect as its long branches swayed. Her pain subsided as her eyes drank in the flickering breeze. She seemed to acquiesce as if she would rather die in peace than save her strength for life. "Please stay alive," Magis insisted. She did not notice as he hurried off.
Death stained every corridor. Magis passed the remnants of massacres, not battles. Saber clashing drew his attention to another hall. He arrived just in time to see a Transdoshan Jedi knight slay an assassin. Magis drew near. The Trandoshan leaned on the wall for a crutch.
"How many left?" Magis asked.
"Too many," the Trandoshan breathed. The Jedi was missing an arm. "To the death." He turned and limped away until he disappeared around another turn.
Dag felt the loss of Luss. Not even the council of masters was intact. So many souls were gone. Thankfully, the majority of padawans and younglings had escaped to the Green Vaults. His thoughts turned to Magis.
Magis sprinted. Water rushed through the temple as if the river was as overjoyed as family reuniting. His head throbbed. If only he had stopped the assault like he had before. So many lives would have been saved.
If… if… if...
The chamber door slid open, revealing a slaughter. Padawans were strewn about in awkward positions where they were felled. Magis stepped over the bodies without taking a breath. Where he walked, the smallest pebbles skipped about.
A commotion ahead. A youngling stumbled into the hall, a boy, maybe seven. Magis started towards him.
"Magis!" the boy's hope lifted. A blade ran across the boy's back as an assassin appeared. The boy's eyes remained open as he fell forward.
Magis cried out, his veins leaping out from his neck. He raised a hand and crushed the assassin into a crumpled mess.
"Here I am! Come for me! Come for me!"
Dag felt the agony though he never heard the cries. "Magis," he whispered. His friend and former padawan was alive. But it wasn't Magis' life that was in danger.
Two Jedi carried the Twi'lek. She woke to find the forest canopy above. The day star's light dimmed, and its parting gift was a golden tapestry of leaves animated in the breeze. A litany of lament embraced her and tears came for she knew many were lost.
These were the Green Vaults, the hidden dell deep in the woods where the first Jedi visitors had gratefully rested after a weary journey through the stars and wastes.
The Twi'lek was laid again in the arms of trees and her wounds were attended too. She glanced around for the human male but could not find him.
Six more assassins appeared but were no match for Magis' wrath.
More would be at the heart of the temple. He came to a divergence and descended.
Lights were flickering. A foul stench nearly knocked Magis off his feet. He pressed on, as if into an underworld. The darkness thickened and he activated his blade to light the way. Water dripped through the stone above. Something was not right.
Too late, Magis tripped over a small body into a liquid. He stood and beheld his mud-stained clothes and skin painted in the bloody hues of crimson, azure, and viridian.
Dag knew what was coming. He drifted out of the control room, then dashed away.
Magis came to a large training arena that spanned the entire height of the temple, supported by twenty columns six feet in diameter. A cold wind frolicked through the vastness like an escaped vagrant. Magis' breath rose before him.
At the center were a band of assassins standing over a padawan's body. A figure, distinguished in dress, looked on. But its mind was trained on a different victim.
It turned and Magis beheld the Sith; lifeless vessels, hollow masterpieces. The Sith leader studied the Jedi's soul. The struggle began.
First… pride.
"Kill this one," the Sith ordered. Magis lifted one with the force and summoned it toward him, slicing it as it passed. Two more assassins dropped behind Magis.
The Jedi shot out his hand and every assassin and the Sith were thrown from their feet.
Magis dispatched the two nearest and began swiftly cutting down others.
The Sith only observed.
Second… doubt.
The Sith hurled four corpses at Magis who evaded and lunged. The Sith parried with a red blade. "For a Jedi, you are accustomed to taking life."
Magis attacked, but the Sith melted into darkness and assassins surrounded the Jedi. Magis beat them back. "You teeter on the edge of darkness," came the voice. "You want to fall," the Sith delighted. "All you require is one... good... push." Three more assassins appeared and died.
Dag ran faster and then leapt from wall-to-wall down a shaft to the lower level. He held his breath to avoid the odors rising from the rot of death. He dare not gaze on the tragedy he passed. One soul still needed saving.
The Sith materialized. A red blade emitted. Magis struck his enemy's arm and leg, then grazed his neck. Each wound seemed to only strengthen him. He did not waver or cower.
Third… fear.
"You do not know fear, but you're afraid." Magis leapt and burned a hole in the floor. He sliced through a pillar and carved air, but the Sith was a phantom. He disappeared again.
Fourth… anger.
"Killing me won't save the dead. How many bodies? Hundreds. Hundreds." Magis searched desperately.
Dag rounded another corner into the gloom.
"More die as I speak. Another… and another." Magis summoned a blast wave that rushed through the great chamber. The Sith fell from hiding and Magis fell upon him.
Fifth… hate.
"You reek of blood. It cries out, Magis!" Magis hesitated at his name, and the Sith struck.
"Such weakness. These pathetic halls and their pitiful shams. To think we feared it. We thought it might serve our purpose. I see now. You are the purpose. And you will raze this wretched pit to the ground!
Magis raged and slashed hard and swiftly. The Sith was pressed back, then, feigning defeat, filled Magis' chest with lightning. The Jedi fell back in agony.
Sixth… pride.
"You cannot kill me… until I allow you. Come, where is the infamous Jedi who has never lost a battle. Perhaps you envy us."
Magis attacked with all his hardened fury, but the Sith escaped every moment.
"You are at war with yourself! Useful to none. Choose. Give up the charade. Then savor victory."
Seventh… the dark side.
The Sith spread open his arms and his lightsaber fell to the ground. He smiled. Magis brought his saber down. A flash as it sizzled against Dag's. The Sith did not miss a beat. "A traitor."
Dag slugged the Sith cold then turned on Magis.
Dag knew his former padawan's patterns and weaknesses. But this was not his former student, rather a swirling gale around a child. To reach that child required braving the onslaught.
Dag was determined. Here was a soul about to crumble. He fought defensive.
Dag recalled Magis as a child, curled upon the steps of the temple in the driving rain. He placed those memories of someone without hope before him. A child who knew only pain and nightmares of burning cities and abandonment.
How could one small existence have borne so much trial? But he was not ordinary; his lifespan longer, his skin tougher, his communion with the force like the deepest roots. He needed the words now, the few words that might carry him to that child again.
Magis advanced, and Dag knew he couldn't delay any longer. "MAGIS! Hear me."
Magis countered but Dag, one of few who could turn Magis' power against him, moved aside and threw Magis to the ground.
"It's not your fault."
Magis faltered in the fog, his eyes heavy. Rage is clear, but a burst, unsustainable. The shroud brought the weight of choice.
"It's not your fault! IT'S NOT YOUR FAULT!" The Sith's eyes opened.
Dag dropped his saber, risking his own life if Magis should lash out. "I am your friend. Listen to me. IT'S NOT YOUR FAULT!" Magis lifted his saber to strike but collapsed in sorrow.
The fog lifted. The rage was gone, leaving only the horrible loss. Like his childhood nightmares, death all around him. It was never supposed to happen again. Dag embraced his friend and held him tight. "You can't save everyone. Let go of all you've lost. Remember them. Cherish them. Free yourself from this burden." Magis sobbed into his master.
"Young one, out of the darkness, without even a name, what do you seek?"
Magis found the words of initiation, "I seek the path of light; to set right the wrong; to walk in justice, ever the servant of the living force."
"You wanted a place not on fire. A night without screams. A family without tragedy. A love without price. But the force does not promise an end to suffering, rather it gives it new purpose; that goodness might triumph even in such a fallen existence. The dark side comes, not as a thief through a window, or a murderer battering down the gate. It knocks on your door like a friend; enters as a family member. We must see it for what it really is; a lie."
Magis was collected. There was no fog or rage. There was only the will of the force. He stood and put his hand on Dag's shoulder. "Master." Magis faced the Sith.
"We are all fools," Magis spoke. "But the difference between us, is I know it."
He lunged, forcing the Sith back and never surrendered gained ground. The Sith, fueled by his own lust and hatred, understood his doom. He lashed out with bolts of lightning and then brought a pillar down. Magis battered the Sith against the wall.
"You are meant for darkness!" the Sith spat blood.
"Never." Magis lifted his saber then launched off his feet as stones hurled toward him, killing the Sith instead.
Exhausted, Magis turned to the stairs and rushed to the heights of the temple. He stepped out onto the roof. A great gathering of war ships came through the clouds and rain. Smoke from the smoldering leftovers of Roove's fleet further shrouded the invasion in terror.
The Sith had come. But Magis perceived; the Sith expected a lifeless temple and defeated lords dressed in rags and humiliation. Master Dag was at his side; more Jedi came to the defense. The surprise was gone; the confusion and horror past.
Magis raised his saber, followed by dozens more.