Hello everyone, and welcome to chapter 12 of Star Wars: Twilight Blade!
Creativity: *OPENING FANFARE!*
Author: And here we see Creativity's newfound sound projection abilities, transcribed to text and functionally useless!
Creativity: We could have had Creativity's Spooky Stories…
Author: Let it go.
Anyway, here we are in chapter 12! I'm actually pretty excited about this. At the current pace, I'm anticipating about eight to ten more chapters (counting this one) to wrap this story up. Of course, some of you might believe that my current pace means that might take a while, but I assure you that it won't be as long as you might think.
Creativity: He says, as if there wasn't a MASSIVE lull in uploads for everything for… how long was it?
Author: I don't wanna think about it… So instead, lets answer some reviews!
NullSilver2005: Heheheheheheh… I ain't saying a dammmmmmn thing.
And that's all the reviews! Now then, time to get to what you all were waiting for!
Creativity: Right after we shill for the Discord Server, password here: xtydzBf
Author: Yes, after that.
Now, without further ado, allow us to proudly present chapter twelve of Star Wars: Twilight Blade!
Despite the continued military discipline of all aboard, the atmosphere aboard the Republic Star Destroyer was one of triumph as Arvos and Master Marahl disembarked from the LAAT gunship. With the Separatist's last true stronghold on Felucia finally captured, all they had left to do was conduct a sweep for any droid outposts or stragglers, especially since the droid fleet wasn't making any move to impede them at all.
That last one made Arvos confused and a little more nervous. The Separatists should have been far more motivated to assist in holding their last stronghold if they were going to keep a fleet of that size stationed above the planet. If they believed it wasn't worth holding that position on Felucia, why had the fleet been holding in orbit?
"What troubles you, Padawan?" Master Marahl inquired curiously, tilting her head to look at Arvos' face. He frowned as he crossed his arms, still considering the Droid Army's unusual behaviour.
"It's just… This felt too easy. Why didn't the fleet try to engage us at all? They should have realized something was wrong at some point in the battle and sent air support or reinforcements. If this really was their last hold on Felucia, then why didn't they try to salvage what resources they had before retreating, or try to reinforce their position? Why did they just sit there and let us take Felucia without putting up any real fight?" Arvos pointed out. Marahl frowned.
"Actually, that has been bothering me too. I thought it may have been a trap, but it's far too late to spring it if it was. Perhaps the Force moved to ease our victory." Master Marahl suggested, though Arvos could tell she didn't quite believe her own words. Something about this whole situation just felt wrong, even in victory.
That said, it was apparent that their concerns weren't shared by a majority of the Star Destroyer's crew. Many of the clones were carrying themselves with a different air, though it would be nigh impossible to tell for someone unfamiliar with the troopers, or someone attuned to the Force as Arvos and Master Marahl were. Buried under all the military discipline was triumph and relief, and it made Arvos want to will away his spoil-sport worries to enjoy the feeling right alongside them.
Unfortunately, they had places to be for now. Namely, they had to report to the bridge regarding the mission. It would probably be a good idea to report their concerns regarding the odd behaviour of the Separatist fleet while they were there as well. After that though, Arvos wasn't sure. Likely more lessons and exercises from Master Marahl. Perhaps some exercises with Alvya and Master Se when they returned from Felucia, or otherwise jetting off to another battlefront in the war. He couldn't imagine Master Marahl wanting the two of them to stay on the ship any longer than they needed to. Arvos knew he didn't want to stay on the ship. Something just felt off and his instincts were whispering that he needed to make some distance from Felucia.
Arvos shook his head and closed his eyes while he centered himself.
"Be mindful of the future, but not at the expense of the present." He recited in his head as he and Master Marahl rode the elevator up to the Star Destroyer's bridge. As they stepped out of the lift, they were immediately greeted by a Clone officer in a sharp gray uniform who immediately saluted them. He then stepped aside to let them out of the turbolift and watched as they approached the holotable.
"Greetings, gentlemen. I hope we haven't missed anything important." Master Marahl greeted with a brief bow before she began looking over the Holotable, which currently displayed the Separatist Fleet hanging opposite theirs above Felucia. Arvos crossed his arms and began examining the projection as well, trying to parse out what might be happening.
"Has the Separatist Fleet taken any action since we took their base?" Master Marahl inquired. The ship's captain shook his head.
"No General. We were monitoring for chatter and they apparently are aware that we've captured the base, but they have orders to remain on standby, and that fresh orders will be issued soon enough. Apparently, the tactical droid on the command ship is overclocking its processing units in an effort to figure out what the strategy at play is." He informed them.
"It doesn't make any sense. Should we anticipate an ambush or other such surprise attack?" Arvos suggested. Master Marahl shook her head.
"Normally I'd say yes, but it doesn't seem like there's any plans at all for Felucia, at least at this moment. Perhaps they're preparing an invasion fleet to come and take Felucia with sheer numbers…" the Theelin muttered. Arvos frowned. While his knowledge of military strategy was admittedly limited, all of this seemed like it was nothing short of unofficial surrender or abandonment of the Felucian fleet by the rest of the CIS Navy. It didn't make any sense!
The meeting went on for some time, moving away from the matter of the Separatist Fleet to discussion of logistics for the fleet and their forces on the ground, possible additional forces to be deployed to the ground and other necessary mundanities of war. Arvos did his best to pay attention, but even his Jedi discipline had its limits, especially when it clashed with his adolescent attention span. That, and he couldn't shake the subtle nervous energy that danced through his nerves. Eventually, the meeting ran its course and the two Jedi departed the bridge.
"What do we do now, Master?" Arvos inquired as the turbolift doors hissed open and they exited.
"There will be no training today. Take this time to rest, perhaps meditate upon the mission if you wish. Tomorrow we will resume training after breakfast, oh-600 sharp. If we don't meet at breakfast, meet me in the training center." Marahl instructed Arvos, who bowed before he realized there was a problem.
"Master, where is the mess hall? And the training center, for that matter?"
Marahl's jaw dropped for a moment before she remembered that this was Arvos' second time aboard a Venator Star Destroyer, and the first visit had been restricted to a trip from the docking bay to the bridge, then back again to be deployed for the mission on Felucia.
Luckily, they were able to sort that out quickly by calling R4-V8, who had a built-in 3D map of the Venator and would be Arvos' guide through the ship until Arvos was familiar enough with the layout to navigate its corridors on his own. With that all sorted, Arvos and R4-V8 returned to his temporary quarters, whereupon R4 went into rest mode to conserve power. Following the astromech's example, Arvos lay down on the metal cot and settled in for a long rest. He knew he'd be needing it.
Bitter cold and howling wind… That was all Arvos could hear and feel as his vision was obscured in roiling, buffeting shadows. He felt like a Kowakian monkey lizard caught in a tornado, being thrown about this way and that with no clue which way was up.
Suddenly, as though like sunlight straining through cloud and fog, he could see a vague figure shrouded in a black cloak. In their right hand they were holding a blue lightsaber, though the figure did not feel like a Jedi to Arvos. There was a foul darkness pouring from them, like a poisonous cloud. They stalked through the murky shadows before other figures with lightsabers came into view, these ones slightly illuminated. Jedi. They advanced on the figure in black, whereupon they were cut down by the blue blade without mercy. Arvos screamed, but no sound came from his lips. Only the whine of a lightsaber as it cut through air and flesh.
However, Arvos was soon spared being subjected to the horrible sight as the shadows soon obscured the scene before him, then parted again to show him a figure wrapped head to toe in armor, holding a crimson lightsaber aloft as he gestured for some strange form of Clone Trooper to advance into battle against a trio of Jedi, all of whom were cornered and look terrified of the masked stranger. The air was filled with the sound of some mechanical respirator. The horrible noise made Arvos feel as though the air was being sucked from his own lungs.
The figure loomed over the Jedi as he slowly marched forward, readying his bloody sword for combat and obscuring Arvos' view of the cornered Jedi, just in time for darkness to take his vision once more, though the sound of the respirator did not vanish. Instead, it was joined by a horrible laugh, slowly building. It was a cruel, sadistic cackle, laced with triumph and steeped in malice.
"Once more, the Sith will rule the galaxy!"
Those words echoed out from the void like rolling thunder, shaking Arvos to his very bones and filling his veins with ice. The Sith would return? They would win?!
Arvos' scattered and panicked thoughts were quickly dispelled by a flash of lightning that struck right in front of him, the force of the impact throwing him away as he landed on his back! His vision was filled with white and his ears rang, though at least he no longer heard the sound of that respirator.
Arvos slowly got to his feet and looked around, blinking as his eyes readjusted to the light. He was somewhere that may as well have been a desert. It was devoid of life, with everywhere to the horizon being dominated with dark gray rock. Sharp and jagged, save for where Arvos was standing, which was unnaturally smooth. The air was filled with wild, twisting winds and pelting rain, and the sky was almost constantly illuminated with forks of lightning, ranging in color from bright gold, to vivid blue, to an unsettling purple.
And yet, throughout the howling winds and driving rain, Arvos could hear the sound of a whistle. It was the sound of a fine blade cutting through the air. The padawan turned and felt his heart stop a moment as he saw a familiar blade embedded in the cold, wet rock. The ground around it was cracked, with dark red light pouring out of a few of the cracks, while a bright gold escaped others.
"The Forge is dead…"
A figure slowly began to emerge from the rain, wrapped in a black cloak. Arvos couldn't make out their features at all, but he knew this wasn't the cloaked figure who had been slaughtering the Jedi before. They were too short for that.
"It must be rekindled…"
Arvos watched as the figured stopped short of the blade before they reached out with their right hand and took a firm grip on the handle.
"The blade calls… It must be answered…"
The figure pried the blade from the ground and slowly turned it in their hand before changing to a two-handed grip and holding the blade up to the sky. All of a sudden, bolts of lightning descended upon the blade in a terrific series of crashes and bangs! Arvos raised his hands to shield his eyes though that didn't shield his ears. Finally, the blade was struck no more and the figure lowered it to their side. Then, their hood jerked up a bit, as if the figure had only now taken notice of Arvos. Arvos tensed as he watched the figure slowly lift the blade to point at him, but was shocked to see someone else seemingly manifest in front of him. This figure was also obscured, but this time wrapped in fraying, flailing shadows. And they weren't alone. Others followed, varying in size and shape but all similarly obscured as the one standing opposite the swordsman.
Arvos watched as the first shadow produced a curved lightsaber and ignited it, producing a crimson blade that was flanked at the emitter by two smaller guard-blades. The figure flourished the blade and charged the figure, who met the lightsaber with the strange sword in a clash of blinding light! Arvos felt as if his skin was searing and he covered his face once more in an attempt to shield himself!
Arvos suddenly jerked await with a yelp and bolted upright, throwing his covers off as he did so! He was soaked in cold sweat and his whole body hadn't stopped shivering yet. He slowly swung his feet off his cot and let them touch the cold durasteel floor. He was unsteady on his feet as he slowly rose and went to get dressed. The feeling of his night clothes clinging to him was unpleasant, even if the sensation felt uncomfortably numbed. After pulling the soaked cloth off his skin, he did his best to towel himself off and started getting dressed. It was time for him to get up anyway.
After donning his Jedi uniform, Arvos clipped his lightsabers to his belt and woke up R4 before he turned to leave. Before he could step out the door though, his attention was drawn to the small chest he'd brought with him from the Jedi Temple. He hadn't thought about it much since he departed from the Temple with Master Marahl, but now he felt pulled to it. He turned away from the door and knelt down next to the box before he tilted open the lid and looked at the small number of possessions inside. You could count the contents on one hand, but one in particular drew Arvos' attention; a wooden sphere, decorated with small wooden carvings. Arvos could still remember when he'd received the sphere from Master Yoda, though whatever purpose the Grand Master saw lay in wait for it and Arvos had yet to reveal itself. The wooden ball had been inert since the day Arvos received it, and never once had he felt anything through the Force from it. Yet now, he felt compelled to take it, though not by the ball itself. It was more like the Force didn't want him to be separated from it any longer, though for what purpose he couldn't say.
"Well, far be it from me to deny the will of the Force." Arvos murmured as he plucked the wooden sphere from the chest and slipped it into his robe.
The walk from his quarters to the mess hall took longer than Arvos expected, but it likely would have taken much longer without R4 to guide him where he needed to go. When the duo arrived at the hall, it was already full to bursting with crew and soldier alike. After a long wait in line to collect his meal, he started looking for a place to sit until he noticed a familiar face in the crowd. To be fair, a Theelin stuck out in a crowd of Clones like a sore thumb.
"Ah, Padawan! Please, have a seat. We're running on a tight schedule." Master Marahl invited as she paused between bites of her own breakfast. Arvos was quick to join her and began attacking his meal. Master Marahl eyed her padawan shrewdly, examining his face as he ate.
"You look unwell, Padawan. Did you not sleep well? She asked as her face softened with concern. Arvos shook his head as he recalled the dream.
"A nightmare is all." He replied, only for his Master to give him a sharp look.
"It is unwise to be so dismissive of dreams, young one. For Jedi, dreams can be far more than figments of the mind." She cautioned, under-which was an implicit instruction to elaborate. Arvos set down his utensils reluctantly and set about explaining everything, from the massacred Jedi, to the armored warrior with a red blade, to the sword that had haunted him before his Gathering, and the phantom that wielded it. Master Marahl had her lips pursed throughout the whole story, though clearly committing every word to memory.
"This is concerning, Padawan. Yours is a dream both more detailed, yet also more vague than anything I have ever experienced or heard of. It's clear that this armored Dark-Side monster follows from the death of the Jedi you saw, as does the rise of the Sith. But this blade… It could mean that the future as you have seen it will occur soon if you do not find this blade, but I cannot say for sure. One way or another, this "Forge" and blade have been calling to you for some time, and it seems the time to seek them is nearly upon you. For what purpose however, that is unclear." Master Marahl assessed. Arvos stared at the table as he frowned. The fate of the Jedi order hanging on him and some old sword? That didn't make any sense. Besides, wasn't Knight Skywalker the Order's Chosen One?
"Come with me, Padawan. Training can wait. We must meet with the Jedi Council immediately."
Arvos' head suddenly shot up. It was that serious?! Even if these dreams could be taken as visions of the future, there was so little to go on! He could barely make out any surroundings, save for when he'd encountered the phantom with the sword, and the only spoken words that had really meant anything to him were absent of any vision; only reference to the Sith taking control of the galaxy somehow.
That said, it was probably best to listen to the experienced Jedi Master who was currently making long, swift strides towards the mess hall's exit. Arvos quickly hurried to catch up and kept silent as they marched through the Venator's corridors towards the bridge. Arvos could hear R4 trundling along behind them, beeping and whistling in what Arvos suspected was confusion.
"Master, do we really need to go straight to the council about my dreams this minute? Do we have enough to go on to bring this before them?" He questioned, only to get a frown from his master as they turned down another corridor.
"Too many things are out of place, Padawan. We are at the end of a war that is showing victory for the Republic, and yet all I can sense in the Force is doom and death. Now, you may be having visions of the destruction of the Jedi and the rise of the Sith to conquer the galaxy once more? We cannot afford to wait. Any leads we can find, we must act on them immedia…"
All at once, Arvos suddenly felt a shockwave through the Force. Death. Death in magnitudes that he could barely comprehend. Master Marahl staggered and had to catch herself on a wall as her words were caught in her throat. She made a sound akin to choking as Arvos lifted a hand to his face and slumped over, a familiar chill permeating his bones.
He was so shocked that he almost didn't hear the sound of a blaster's safety being deactivated before discharging.
And that's where we're ending it!
Creativity: You. Are. Evil.
Author: I know, and I love it.
So, almost got it done when I thought I would, at least relative to what I was sharing if you're on our Discord.
I've also had a lot of time to think and plan, and I'd say that this story actually is closer to completion than I thought. Maybe five or six mor chapters, and it'll be wrapped up!
Feels strange to say, honestly, but despite the length of time it's taken to write, this story was always meant to be on the shorter side. But we'll see! We all know what my writing promises are worth!
Well, I think that's enough from us for now! Thanks for reading, please review, hope to see you on Discord and we'll see you next time!