Summary: Just as Brianna and Atris' other handmaidens plan to infiltrate the Jedi Academy to retrieve their sister, Darth Erebus plots an impromptu escape before it's too late.


3951 BBY, Nespis VIII, Jedi Academy

The Last Handmaiden

The Jedi temple on Nespis VIII wasn't unlike any other that Brianna had visited in recent months, scouring the sites for anything lost or left behind for her Mistress to reclaim and keep safe. But this one… this one felt haunted somehow.

The halls were full of mercenaries, yes, but Brianna also felt other eyes on her, hidden ones. Arianna seemed unworried, at least by anything other than the present threat. When they re-entered the temple, they were greeted by its new occupants, as well as Orenna and Ursa, accompanied by Liana via comm. Irena was still in the archives somewhere, unable to answer, though they took it as a sign that she was captured or at least unable to escape safely.

They sisters four took out the front guard easily enough, at least the outer-lying scouts whose absence would not be noted for some time yet. They needed to get Irena and the items secured beneath the temple out with as little of a commotion as possible. Liana told them the docks were already on near lock-down, the Golden Company having made themselves comfortable there, too.

"You're lucky things hadn't quite gotten this bad on Tatooine, sister," Arianna had breathed as they retreated into the temple shadows again once they were safe inside to make their next move. "Things here aren't looking much better."

Brianna nodded, unsure whether to consider her sister's comment a token of concern or a backhanded insult, as if to say that Brianna couldn't handle herself without her sisters there to save her. But the feeling at the nape of her neck drew her away from any inner questioning, wondering instead who was watching them, and from where.

They were hidden in the alcove above the main doors, crouched in the dilapidated entrance to the ventilation system. Brianna eyed their surroundings, knowing her sisters were more than capable, but curious nonetheless if they could feel it too. Her skin was covered in goosebumps, prickled from her wrists up to her shoulders, trailing down back, as she hazarded a glance behind her to see if anyone was there. She knew she would find nothing but darkness, but somehow, in the shadow she knew something was waiting, watching.

She stood still, her sisters still speaking in whispers so quiet they could be mistaken for near silence, locking eyes with the darkness. Something shifted, the weight of the air around them, the temperature of the alcove, something… something.

"Brianna?"

Unmoving, Brianna stared still, waiting for the slightest sign of movement, of something, though she knew not what.

The air beside them seemed to solidify before her eyes for a moment, and then… sighed?

"Brianna-" Arianna gripped her arm, but Brianna snatched it back, and in doing so unlatched her staff and extended it as she stood, thrusting it into the empty air… only to hit something that was certainly not nothing.

A figure rippled into existence, forming from nothing, a figure completely clad in black whose chest was now wreathed in a deep dripping red.

"Quick, there's more of them," Brianna said before she knew what was happening, before she'd registered what she'd just done and how. Several figures spirited into being before them, all poised on the edge of the alcove as if they'd been perched there, waiting.

With another parry she managed to knock another off the ledge while Arianna reached around her and kicked the leg out from another. Five remained.

Brianna had not seen a foe like this before, but they reminded her of someone. Someone still fresh in her memory.

The remaining figures readied themselves as they passively allowed their comrades to fall, the expressionless masks betraying nothing of their next move. Arianna grappled with the first, while another figure leapt across the gap to reach Orenna. Three stood facing Brianna, each with a weapon in hand, and each ready to fly.

Within the span of a moment, time froze, as it did once… in a dream? Brianna did not have the time to remember, though a flicker of a memory, a half-thought, flitted through her mind before she calculated the moves she needed to take down the three foes standing before her. Almost without thinking, she hooked her staff with the first silhouette, feeling the electricity travel from its shock-stick to hers, snaking its way through her hands and up her arms. Instead of reeling, she felt herself absorbing the shock of the contact as she pulled downward, using gravity to her advantage. At that moment, the second figure poised to pull a trigger, but with Brianna's staff still on the down-turn she spun and kicked out, slamming her booted foot into the figure's hip to send them flying, the rifle's aim skewed just enough to hit one of the assailants behind her as they grappled with Arianna still. Now the third stood ready, needle-thin blades in each hand. As she landed, Brianna ducked, instinctively avoiding the first blade as she came up on the second, grabbing the hand of her attacker before they could lash out, using her staff to fling the first blade out of their hand. As one blade tumbled to the antechamber below, Brianna thrust the hand of the figure down so they fell along with it, toppling to the floor along with the others.

Turning, she found Arianna, Orenna and Ursa staring at her wide-eyed with only two assailants between them, now incapacitated on the floor.

"...Well done," Ursa finally uttered, her voice colored impressed yet tinged with something more like… disgust? Fear?

Brianna could only nod humbly, still catching her breath. She retracted and reattached her staff to her belt and slowly moved towards them.

Arianna and Orenna nodded, near-dumbfounded, exchanging glances as Brianna carefully made her way over the broken floorboards to where they stood, wary not to fall along with those… foes she dispatched.

"Now who are they, I wonder?" she said, her heart racing, unsure of what just happened, of what her sisters thought of her now, and whether she might finally be worthy of them.

Whatever similar thoughts ran through her sisters' heads dissipated at the question, Arianna taking the lead as she often did.

"Judging by their garb?" Arianna began, nudging one of the bodies with the tip of her boot, "Not a mercenary, that's for sure. I've seen some of this material used in other armors, older ones. Orenna, do you remember?"

Arianna knew the answer, but asked Orenna as if testing her. Orenna nodded, accepting the challenge, before kneeling to get a closer look. Her fingers hovered over one of the masked faces, as if curious to see the person beneath, but instead her hands moved to the figure's arm, running her fingers along their greaves. She paused before looking up at her sisters again, looking at them each in turn.

"We've found similar armor before, on the Outer Rim bordering the Unknown Regions. Get a closer look, sister."

Brianna watched cautiously as Arianna nodded at her, beckoning that she do as Orenna asked, almost afraid of what she might find, though she already had some idea. She knelt slowly, looking at more than just their greaves, but examining the rest of their armor, turning the body this way and that as if it were a training doll. Brianna's blood ran cold then, realizing what she'd done, knowing that this were her first real… kill. Her sisters seemed unfazed, perhaps having already done this on other excursions she was excluded from, or perhaps they just didn't care. They were trained not to, afterall, but Brianna couldn't help but feel unsteady, the air around them somehow thinner. She examined the now-corpse, suddenly aware of the rest of the temple, sensing the movement in the lower rooms, knowing there were others nearby, and the sheer weight of what remained hidden beneath it all. But was that because she knew how important Atris' work was? Or was it something else?

"Sith," Brianna breathed finally, though tension still mounted in her chest, "I'm certain."

"Assassins, I would assume," Ursa added. Arianna nodded, Orenna as well. "There are likely more of them, though try to keep count. We need to let Mistress know every detail."

So Atris' plan was unfolding. Was it just how she expected it to happen? Brianna couldn't get a good enough read on the woman to be sure, but every time she spoke with her, Mistress seemed even more on edge. She wondered if Atris had been the same when consulting her sisters, though she doubted the present situation brought their Mistress any pleasure, regardless if her predictions were correct or not.

"We need to get to that cache," Ursa urged them, readying her weapons again, "If the Golden Company is here and if the Sith are here then who knows what could happen if these relics fall into the wrong hands."

Arianna nodded, but Brianna shook her head.

"What is hidden here, exactly?" she asked. Arianna had explained the situation somewhat before they arrived, and they had learned of the mercenary group's arrival together via comm, but she was fuzzy on the other details. Why were the they here exactly? And how much of a coincidence was it that they ran into each other? Was this all part of Atris' plan? Was this part of what she had forseen? Was that why Brianna was sent to watch the Exile? Because Atris knew all of this was supposed to happen? That all of these paths would intersect somehow?

"Relics from the Great Sith War," Arianna confirmed, interrupting Brianna's already-rampant thoughts, "I'm not surprised the Sith would show themselves, though it's bold of them to appear like this. Mistress would be concerned."

"These are not just any relics of Kun or Qel-Droma," Ursa replied, though she did not emphasize, nor did she answer Brianna's question. "Mistress foresaw this, though I don't think she believed it would happen again so soon."

Ursa turned to Brianna now, her face stern, her eyes sad almost, betraying worry.

"We cannot let them have it," Ursa said, "By any means."

Arianna nodded in agreement. "If it falls into the hands of a Sith Lord, what then?" she said, her hypothetical question hanging in the air like a noose about their necks, for they all knew the answer.

"We mourn the galaxy, that's what."

Brianna's skin ran cold, thinking of the man from Anchorhead, his bright green eyes alight with anger as she came down on him in the Czerka loading bay, the way he snarled as he looked at the Exile only moments before, electricity snaking up his arms as sparks sputtered from his fingertips. Was he a Sith? Atris was far too distracted to give her an answer, too concerned with the Exile to note it. Or perhaps Brianna had not been clear? Would she regret not detailing the fight further? Would Atris find out? Angry that she had faced a dark Jedi on her own without making sure he did not follow her?

"Ready?"

Brianna looked to her sisters, their weapons at the ready, shaking the uneasiness from her mind.

She nodded, unsure of what lay before them, and what else their service to Atris might have them do. Brianna turned, hazarding a glance over the balcony of the alcove into the depths of the entryway below, spotting the lifeless bodies of the people she'd just … killed. Faceless, it was easier to accept, but there was still a gnawing inner worry she couldn't pinpoint. She was proud of her own quick-thinking, and she knew she would be dead had she not acted. Still, this was a first. And likely not the last.

Unbothered, her sisters accepted her compliance and moved onward.

"I was unable to conduct full checks on the men we had in custody," Ursa whispered to them as they quietly maneuvered around the ruined upper levels of the temple, careful to watch for the patrols below and careful not to make a sound, "But Irena is likely still trapped with them."

"We shall handle them as we handle the mercenaries," Orenna affirmed for them, coming to a decision on her sisters' behalf, "They are not our concern, unless they get in our way."

Brianna trailed behind her sisters, watching on as Arianna and Ursa nodded in unison. Orenna didn't even look to see if Brianna agreed, or had even heard what she said. Her eyes trailed along as she walked, discerning each shadow with more scrutiny than usual, suddenly afraid that the very air around them would move again and come to life, revealing more assassins laying in wait.

"We can circle around the archive, come up on it from the west end," Ursa went on, careful to keep herself hidden as she gave orders. Brianna glanced over the lip of the broken balcony as they snuck along its few precarious supports, spying the mercenaries making their rounds below, "It would be best to distract them, get Irena out of there unnoticed-"

"But surely they will notice she is gone," Arianna interjected. "How do we go about drawing their attention elsewhere?"

"That was my next point-" Ursa began, pausing now and lowering her voice even more. "Brianna, you have the shard Mistress gifted you, yes?"

Almost stunned, Brianna paused before nodding. She reached into her pocket and handed the odd device to Ursa. Her sister plucked it from her palm and shook it, using her nail to reach miniscule buttons affixed to one of its rougher edges to make a few adjustments.

"We can disrupt their comms with this," she said, stopping in full now that they were all standing in the shadows of another alcove along the upper wall, Brianna careful not to bump into any hidden assassins as she ducked out of view beside her sisters. In the dark, the white of their hair still gave them away, but with their hoods drawn the white appeared grey, and the grey melted seamlessly into the shadows around them, appearing as visual snow, an optic equivalent of white noise. Another design discovered by Atris, from the depths of some other ancient archive.

"We need to-"

"Wait!"

Brianna hardly heard the word as it escaped her own throat in an urgent whisper, unsure of why she said it just as an image appeared in her mind - bodies falling to the floor; blood coating the walls; a static ring permeating the space as the air slowed; a room filled to the brim with cold flames, ragged and flickering; a man escaping through a door, unseen, as time hastened to catch up with him.

What is this? Brianna thought, her breath quickening, blinking hard as her sisters all stared at her wide-eyed.

"Brianna, we can't-"

Blinking furiously still, the vision focused, like a kaleidoscope folding in on itself until a single image remained - Irena crushed beneath the weight of the temple, the walls closing in on her until no breath escaped her lungs, the life snuffed out of her in an instant.

Without thinking, Brianna launched herself over the edge of the second landing, somehow regaining her footing quickly enough to burst into a run once her feet hit the uneven floor. The two mercenaries standing outside the door were already on the floor, but she didn't have the time to wonder how or why. Ahead of her, electric tendrils slowly snaked their way through the lip of the plasteel door wedged into the wall, crawling upward like cracks forming in ice. And when Brianna kicked it down, the mechanism sparking as it came loose from the frame, the room's inhabitants remained silent and still as stone while death threatened to consume them.

"Brianna-!"

Her sisters appeared behind her just as the walls began to crumble, the electric energy now spread over every inch of the room, the people inside still unaware of their impending doom. Brianna's eyes flashed to the center of the room, searching for the source - a cryoban grenade, a disruptruptor set to self-destruct - but all she saw was a flash of black as a man exited the room, disappearing through the other side just as the door collapsed around him once the flames took hold, just like her vision.

Atris had warned them of powers like this, especially once she had returned from the failed Jedi conclave, her head in her hands. Their exercises had first doubled, then tripled, their workload exponential in the days and weeks to follow the disaster, their Mistress growing more distraught with every passing hour. The Dark Side is destruction. The Dark Side is death.

Remnants of a dream trickled back to her in an instant - falling snow stilling in the air, a woman found upon the mountain, the weight of her heavy yet amorphous as Brianna and her sisters brought her to Atris for a reckoning - but just as the finer details found footing, they slipped through her mind again, raced away by one final flash of the man from Anchorhead, the man now exiting the room she was entering, seemingly responsible for the carnage within.

The walls started hurtling towards the floor as if in low gravity, chunks breaking apart as time slowed, sending her into a nightmare made real. Brianna's sisters stilled behind her, but Brianna jolted forward as soon as she saw Irena's wide eyes from across the room. She dodged the falling debris, grabbing her elder sister by the hands before releasing her, urging her onward before realizing that Irena, too, was moving as if sedated.

It wasn't until she had Irena out of the chair that she saw the bodies, some splayed with blood on the floor while a slew of other assassins stood frozen, poised around the room like sentient statues. Unmoving, they would soon become unstuck, but if the room were to collapse... She had to get out of there, fast.

Her vision unfolded in reverse, the ringing appearing and resounding just as the realization struck her, Irena in hand. Without thinking, Brianna pulled Irena beside her, making up for her sluggish pace as she dodged the two bloodied corpses on the floor and the assassins sinking to join them from underneath the weight of the collapsing room. Brianna ducked and slid, pulling Irena along with her, before the world around her turned dark and deep and black, the ringing intensifying and occupying every inch of her brain until she knew nothing more...


3951 BBY, Nespis VIII, Jedi Academy

Darth Erebus

The boy's mind was difficult to crack, but Erebus managed it. He waited for the moment when the stranger's breath would catch, caught off-guard by the words spoken to him in secret, startled by the voice heard only in the confines of his mind before Erebus sunk in his proverbial teeth. Erebus even managed to coax a smile out of him - though a nervous one at that - a smile that went lax the moment it was in full bloom, losing fire like the expression of a dying man knowing full well this was his last breath. Does he know? Can he tell?

He knew the blond man could hear him, but could he see what he was doing? Could he tell that Erebus had pried open his thoughts enough to peek at what lay on the surface, to now know that his name was Mical, and all before rummaging further to find what he was looking for? The thought never stopped Erebus before, but the look in the stranger's eyes - so bright and so blue - he thought twice. Perhaps… and if so, the boy's Pazaak face was one for the books.

It was only the fraction of a second. Mical would likely not remember this part, and the others around them were far too preoccupied to notice. The two mercs stood talking in barely hushed whispers at the end of the room while the Echani focused all of her energy on appearing poised, perhaps as much for herself as it was a front to those who now held her captive.

Knowing he was unseen, at least for now, Erebus delved deeper, Mical's face now betraying no emotion.

Erebus had almost blanched when he'd heard of what Nihilus had done at Katarr. Erebus was the one to tell him about the conclave, the meeting spearheaded by his old Jedi Master, Atris. Part of him felt the invitation was meant for him, that it was not quite as intercepted as he made it out to be, intended more as a jab that Erebus had abandoned his post on Coruscant and was no longer welcomed, though perhaps only if he dared. Nihilus had laughed his inhuman laugh at the intel, the air momentarily sucked from the room as if an airlock had been opened, but Nihilus had never once doubted Erebus' words. This was the news he was waiting for, the prophecy come to light. His hunger would be abated, and Erebus would be paid handsomely for it… had Nihilus not returned with a new student, a pet.

But this… this… was something else. Judging by Mical's memory, there was a cache of Sith artifacts secured beneath the temple that would more than satiate Nihilus' interest, but more importantly, it linked to the reason Erebus dealt in artifacts in the first place, why he had ultimately chosen to become a Jedi after once fearing them, why he chose to pursue the title of Historian under Atris, and why he ultimately entered Nihilus' employ… and somehow, in spite of all of that, it also somehow linked back to his sister, to the artifact she left on his ship as payment for the notes she stole, an invitation to something larger, something yet unknown…

Before Erebus could truly register the weight of it all - the unending coincidences and the sheer marvel of the items he now knew lay buried beneath the temple - the air about them rippled again.

One by one, their mercenary sentinels fell without a word, the static from their comms reaching deaf ears as shock-staffs materialized through their rib cages, blood-spatter coating the room in a shuddering instant. Irena stiffened with a sharp intake of breath, and Erebus ripped himself from Mical's mind, perhaps a bit too sharply, though time did not grant him the luxury of using the Force with any grace. It did, instead, leave his fingertips bristling, electricity pooling in his palms.

As the bodies hit the floor, other bodies materialized to take their place, much as the mercenaries had appeared before… only these bodies were Sith. Erebus knew them instantly by their garb, ancient in origin and designed for both stealth and the fluid movement required for their brute strength. Sion's legion of Sith Assassins.

Without a second thought, Erebus let everything go. With a sharp crack, Erebus' restraints dissolved in a flash of violet-white light. Standing, he cast his arm out until the air around him stilled, the Sith Assassins' cover slow-dissolving at the far end of the room as if their stealth were aged honey. He wouldn't have much time, not knowing how long his Force Slow would hold, having only ever attempted it once before. The Echani woman watched him wide-eyed, but otherwise did not move, her white face and hair marred by the blood of their now-dead captors, her hands and eyes still as stone.

Erebus rushed the table and slid across it, landing unsurely on the other side, adrenaline coursing through him. Fingers fumbling, Erebus undid Mical's restraints, only wisps of electricity sparking at the tips of his hands as he worked, hardly able to snap the fibers before his powers gave out. But everyone else in the room moved as if underwater, Erebus moving inhumanely fast though out of breath as he finally snapped Mical's hands free and whispered, "We have to move - now!"

Not quite realizing how the words would sound in the man's head, Erebus lifted him up out of the chair and leapt toward the nearest door just as time began to catch up with him. Fear bubbling in his throat like bile, he closed his eyes and soaked the fear in, letting it steep into every fiber of his being before opening his eyes again, instantly sending the entire room up in electricity.

The walls began crumbling in slow-motion before quickly falling to the ground around them just as Erebus lead Mical out of the storeroom and into another dark hallway, then steered him into the nearest service duct, his teeth clanging in his skull before the dust could even settle.

"In here," he said, time now fully in motion again, sound traveling at its normal speed.

Going on his brief mapping of the building through Force Sight from earlier, the fastest way out of the action was do go deeper - closer to where he needed to go, but also likely where the horde would soon be as well. That was why they were here, was it not? He didn't have the time, or the strength, to reach out with the Force again, to get another read on the place. Now, they needed to move.

"Wh-why - where are we-?" Mical was still recovering from his Force-induced stupor as well as Erebus' Force Slow, his senses likely rushing back to him faster than he could reconcile.

"There's no time for that," Erebus explained in a hushed whisper, "You're going to have to trust me if you want to live."

Part of Erebus knew that he was fooling the man, at least to some degree, but he also knew he was being earnest. He wasn't sure what this Mical was capable of other than rattling off facts that could rival his own skills, but regardless of what he could do Erebus was his best shot at avoiding Sion's Sith and anyone else in this temple. Erebus was done playing games and playing parts. There wasn't time for anything else. If he had to, he would tell Mical everything, but for now all that mattered was that the man believe him.

Mical nodded, albeit unsurely as he looked Erebus straight in the eye, as if only just seeing him for the first time. The action was getting closer again, and whether he agreed or knew that he just needed to move, Mical nodded again with fervor and entered the service duct. Erebus followed, replacing the grate behind him as he urged Mical onward. On their knees, they were able to crawl through the duct with only minor discomfort, but it was the sounds behind them that troubled Erebus more than their current predicament. It would only be a matter of time before the Echani cracked, or Sion's assassin's found his trail. But if he was right, he and Mical should come upon a maintenance closet with easy access to the lower levels if they just kept going. A few more meters and they maybe stood a chance.

"Why are you helping me?" Mical asked after a few minutes of finding his way through the dark with only Erebus' curt instructions for direction, "How do I know I-"

"You don't know whether you can trust me," Erebus admitted, already sensing what the man was about to say, "But right now I'm your best shot, and you're mine. Now, where was that Jedi I sensed earlier? They were with you, correct? Keeping an eye on the situation with the Echani?"

Mical paused before nodding demurely, resigning to Erebus' probing, whether he truly trusted him or not.

"They were close, but not close enough to be detected. At least not by the Echani," Erebus began, piecing things together from what he had gathered earlier and what he had gleaned from Mical's mind moments ago, "But you knew they were there. You gave them a signal."

The man's behavior had been strange earlier, an almost hot-and-cold as he played cat and mouse with the Echani called Irena.

He didn't say anything in response, which to Erebus meant yes.

"I doubt your Jedi friend would leave you here, so they're likely getting... help, backup?"

"I'm not sure," Mical eventually said, almost sounding defeated.

"Hm," was all Erebus could muster. He'd have to check Mical's mind again when his strength returned, if he could, but for now, he needed to get to that cache. He directed Mical further, the sounds of the firefight thankfully falling away as they advanced on the next room. Just as Erebus was beginning to feel short of breath for the small space, Mical kicked out the next grate and exited into the maintenance room he'd been aiming for. The lights were out, so Erebus held his bristling hand aloft, the violet-white electricity illuminating the space just enough for the two of them. Mical eyed him curiously, but remained silent.

"I'm sure you have your theories," Erebus said, almost snide, as he searched his feelings for the door they needed. Mical said nothing.

Drawn towards another service door to the left, Erebus led them onward, and then downward, a ladder descending from an open shaft in the corner of the next room. Without a word, Mical followed, at least trusting enough to know that he needed to do as Erebus asked if he wanted to make it out of this place alive.

"I'm assuming you have a plan for getting out of here," Mical finally said once they'd both landed on solid ground again, Mical hopping off the ladder ceremoniously before dusting himself off. Erebus did no such thing, and only laughed in response.

"I will, I can tell you that," he snorted, "But for now, all that matters is that we get this cache out of here safely."

"Safely," Mical chided, shooting Erebus a hard glance.

"I take it you have some history with the Golden Company," Erebus said, careful as he chose his next words, "And I take it you can guess that I may have a history with those men that materialized back there." Men, women, it didn't matter. Once they were in Sion's employ they were his lackeys through and through. Weapons. Expendable. Meant to buy Sion time, meant to feed into his never-ending pain. "Trust me, you don't want them finding what's down here just as much as you don't want the Golden Company getting to it first."

Mical remained silent, eyeing Erebus' hand, the one that was just teeming with electric tendrils, the one he'd just used to destroy the room they were briefly held prisoner in.

"I'm sure you have your theories as to who and what I am, and for all I know you may be right."

Mical shot him another look, not doubting him this time but still unhappy with the situation nonetheless.

"But all you need to know right now is that I am perhaps the only person that finds any value in the objects that lay beneath us. At least half as much as you, if not more."

"I'll believe that much," Mical said, thoughtful. "You're trying a little too hard to impress me."

Erebus blushed but could do nothing to hide the blood now rushing to his face.

"Maybe you understand how much this means to me, then," he said, his voice husky and almost quiet, softer than he'd intended, "Regardless of who I am and who you're loyal to, we have that in common at least."

"I can agree on that."

Mical didn't look at him this time, intent on his own thoughts as they continued on. Erebus got the feeling that Mical knew where to go from here, now leading the way without Erebus' half-remembered direction. He had a feeling the man hadn't been here himself but had instead memorized directions, perhaps with the intention of coming here on his own, uninterrupted, before the Echani undoubtedly showed up and ruined his plans. Judging by what he saw and judging by those in attendance, it was no wonder the temple was swarming, and it would be a miracle if Erebus could figure out how to escape once they got their hands on the cache, once he finally had Exar Kun's very own -

"In here," Mical said finally, after leading them down a labyrinth of halls and storage rooms. In what seemed to be a nondescript closet, Mical recited something under his breath, the floor receding as a set of stairs materialized before them, each step illuminated by some unseen ethereal glow.

With careful footfalls, Mical led the way, as if afraid his weight may trigger a booby trap or some other device. Erebus didn't doubt it. Feeling a bit stronger, he reached out with the Force only to find… it was silent. Completely quiet and void. He stilled.

"What is it," Mical asked over his shoulder, sounding more like a lazy inquiry or a command rather than a question, clearly losing his patience as well as his nerve.

"It's-" Erebus faltered, unsure of how to word his thoughts, unbelieving even as he made the realization. It's barring me from entering. "I can't go further."

He should have known. If the Jedi were going to keep dark artifacts like these beneath the temple, it would have been to keep them safe… from his kind. From the Sith. From anyone strong in the Dark Side of the Force. And he'd taken these measures before, he remembered. With Atris, under her instruction.

Mical watched Erebus curiously, still not sure if he could trust him as far as he could throw him, and judging by his expression Erebus guessed it wasn't very far. He looked fit enough, but the stress was clear on his face, his cheeks hollow and gaunt, though his eyes remained a bright, brilliant blue nonetheless. How long had he been here?

"You figure a way out of here," Mical conceded, taking another tentative step downward, "It's probably best I do this alone."

If Mical was going to trust Erebus with their escape, he could at least afford unlocking the cache in secret. The man likely knew Erebus was the last person he should entrust such items to, if given the choice, and with a feeling that Mical wasn't a merc or anything of the sort, he figured this may be his best bet. If Mical could trust him, even the slightest bit more, maybe he could get close enough to -

"Sounds like a plan."

Mical nodded after a moment and descended, a pit of worry forming at the base of Erebus' chest. He watched until Mical disappeared into the depths of the temple, bracing himself for what came next.

The sounds were growing closer again, and Erebus was still weak. His hands trembled, but he wasn't sure if it was the Jedi failsafe now at his back or his nerves, or had he really been so out of practice that reading someone's mind and casting Force Slow was enough to drain him? He had also cast the room in electric flames, he remembered, and perhaps that was it. Perhaps he was still a sad, sorry historian so far out of his depths it only took diving into the deep end to see it. He braced himself, trying to afford Mical the privacy he deserved in the temple stores, a Jedi secret safe with someone at least. He scoffed at the thought.

If Sion was here… what did that mean? Was he here for the bounty on Jedi? Was he here for the cache? Was he here for… him? Erebus couldn't be sure, but the energy in the room earlier had instantly felt cold as Sion's assassins materialized. Erebus somehow knew it wasn't meant to be a rescue mission. Perhaps they hadn't realized he was there… Erebus had last checked in on Tatooine after all, gone for good or missing in action was anyone's best guess since then, right? But it wasn't like Nihilus and Sion to keep tabs on each other rather than remain at each other's' throats… and it wasn't like Nihilus to care about Erebus at all to begin with, if only to keep the leash on him tight.

Now wasn't the time to worry. There were things larger at work here. Larger than the Jedi, larger than the Sith threat Erebus kept close ties with on the edges of known space, and larger than whatever it was Erebus thought he would ever amount to in all his chameleon alliances, Force be damned.

Calming his nerves again, steadying his breath, Erebus counted as he inhaled and once more as he exhaled. His senses calmed, and when his eyes closed this time, a blueprint of the entire temple grounds and the surrounding city sprawled before his eyelids, specters of energy masquerading as varying shades of light as his Force Sight strengthened. Sion's Sith systematically took out the mercenary watchmen, but another group swiftly swept through the temple picking off assassins one by one. The girl. He didn't have to see her to know it was her, to realize that she was somehow related to his initial Echani captors, the sisters who resembled the girl from Tatooine only somewhat, any theories he had previously proven absolutely true. Her energies were the same, the Force moving around her more strongly than the others, as if channeling through her and with her at once. She'll find out soon enough. Judging by their movements, he doubted the other women knew their youngest was strong with the Force. Perhaps it was new, perhaps it had only just awoken. It had been the same for Erebus as a child, assigned to a Jedi Historian instead of a proper Master. Perhaps her hidden skills would keep them safe just yet.

The action moved closer, yet Erebus could tell he and Mical still had some time to kill. There was too much chaos for any of the three factions above them to begin making their way down just yet, their opponents still too imminent for any of them to get a foothold on the lower levels. Erebus had a feeling it wouldn't remain that way for long.

There was only one way out of the lower chambers, at least the way they'd came, but if they could somehow cut into the lower dorms and race through the old training chambers… they might have a chance. If Erebus had the energy to muster another batch of thunderous lightning, another cataclysmic explosion looked to be their only chance of making it out of there alive. Otherwise, they'd have to test their luck against the remaining mercenaries, six skilled Echani warriors and an army of Sion's Sith assassins...

Before he could wonder at how much longer Mical would take, the man appeared at his side, his face pale and his eyes wide. His expression was still as stone, his energy drained but an energy that told Erebus he wanted to keep on living strong in his veins. They looked at one another, Erebus eyeing the new satchel Mical now donned before nodding, trying his best not to pry, to save his curiosity for later.

Darkness threatened their immediate area, the air suddenly thick and hard to breath, Erebus' Force Sight snuffed out like a light by darkness and sharp breeze.

"So, about that plan?" Mical said, his voice more confident than he appeared. Erebus nodded, closing his eyes for another instant, memorizing the map in his head before looking at Mical once more.

"That depends," he began, bracing himself as he watched Mical for a reaction, "How do you feel about falling debris? And how fast can you run?"


3951 BBY, Nespis VIII, City Center

Mission

"So, where are we headed?" Mission asked, already out of breath once they made it out of the hostel and around the corner. Come to think of it, Mission didn't think any of them had relaxed since… well, before any of this. Once she and Big Z were asked to change course and find General Valen, they'd been either running or worriedly waiting ever since. And now, they were running.

"It's not far from here, don't worry," Zayne answered in a breath, "You're taking notes though, right?"

Mission nodded and hoped she'd come off as best bet was to stake out an exit plan, get Zayne's friend Mical out of the temple, the goods too if they were lucky, and head for the docks as soon as possible.

This wasn't much unlike her normal line of work. Hell, it was essentially the same thing, it was just odd hearing Zayne giving the directive instead of Carth or any of the other usuals she saw on her rounds. Occasionally running errands for the Jedi was not something Carth liked to advertise, not because he didn't want to necessarily, but because he knew how it would look. And deep down, despite his ties to Bastila, despite how much he cared for Nevarra after everything they'd been through, Mission could tell that part of him still didn't like it. And now, Mission knew why.

"I never thought to ask it before, but why do the Jedi keep so many fracking secrets?"

Zayne laughed, and Mission realized she had spoken aloud.

"Maker's balls," she sighed, embarrassed, "I didn't mean-"

"Oho, no you meant it," Zayne affirmed, shooting her a grin as they reached the center of the marketplace, the stale city air growing damp and humid, threatening rain, "But lemme tell you, I wonder the same damn thing all the time."

"Oh, right," Mission said, "You're not exactly a Jedi either, are you?"

"Why does everyone always assume I'm offended by that?" Zayne asked, laughter still evident in his voice, lingering somewhere in his eyes as well, still sparkling, "I'm kind of proud of it actually."

Now, Mission was glad the others hadn't come along just yet. She looked at Zayne, the moment stilling as the crowd jostled around them, moving about as if the two of them didn't exist. He looked off into the distance, either wistful or checking to see if the coast was clear, but there was a glimmer of something in his eye, a playful knowing Mission knew was hiding somewhere beneath his mischievous exterior.

"Proud, huh?" she asked, and he nodded. Now she knew - why it felt so natural around Zayne, why it felt like nothing had changed, despite having travelled with him so little and not seen him in so long. He was every inch the older brother she wished she'd had, the brother she wanted Griff to be. Griff would joke and jab, but he'd always be hiding a secret, a surprise with an not-so-happy ending. At least with Zayne, whatever he was hiding underneath was noble, and at least he was trying. Whatever chaos erupted in his wake, it was out of his desire to do good, even if things didn't quite turn out that way. And seeing Zayne now, after all these years, Mission knew that Griff may have very well wanted the best for her, but somewhere along the way let everything else get in the way. Zayne wouldn't let that happen, to her or to anyone else. Not even the Jedi, the faction that betrayed him, that cost him everything he'd been and hoped to be, and ultimately changed the course of his life forever. He still wanted to do right by others, even if that meant returning somewhat to a life he'd spent so long distancing himself from.

"Proud that I made it on my own," he rejoined finally, looking her in the eye. He paused, holding her gaze for a moment before nodding across the square, never breaking eye contact. "We've got company."

And just like that, Mission's easy smile faltered, easing into a discomfort she wasn't that unfamiliar with.

Several mercenaries popped up around the square - she could tell just by the look of them, and this wasn't her first run in with the Golden Company, either - but each one she spotted was looking around the marketplace, searching for something…

"They're plotting an exit," Mission said, the realization dawning on her as she spoke, her voice coming on in a hushed whisper. "We were too late."

"Something's happened at the temple if they're already-"

"Mission-" a comm rang in her ear, though to anyone else it would sound like a growl.

"I hear ya, Big Z," she answered, looking at Zayne pointedly, speaking without words as the pieces unfolding before them each as the data trickled in, via comm, judging by the looks of the market square, and by the tower of smoke rising in the distance Mission now noticed…

"The docks are swarming," Zaalbar grumbled, his voice agitated, pin-pricked with more guttural grunts he was known to emit when anxious. "Mercenaries are thick here. Better hurry, we should make a clean getaway. And fast."

Zayne raised his eyebrows in question, only privy to Zaalbar's message by what he could glean from Mission's expression. Mission only shook her head.

"Not good, huh?" a faltering smile played across Zayne's face as he nervously looked to the other side of the marketplace, exactly where they had been headed. "I'm not sure if we'll-"

If Zayne said anything more, it was drowned out by what came next. Mission turned her head, but it felt as if it took years for her to move, as if she were wading through water though she wished to be running in a dream, a nightmare. A cloud of smoke rose from the other end of the city, just beyond the square, dust and debris filling the air until it blotted out what could be seen of Nespis Major in the distance. And above it, a sea of ghost ships loomed overhead, dark and massive, riddled with cannonfire but airborne despite it, eclipsing all light.

A darkness crept through her, filling her lungs, her legs, rooting her to the spot like lead. Before the dread could overtake her - the panic, the uncertainty, the shock - a hand snaked through hers, fingers rough but reassuring as they tugged her attention away from the sight as it unfolded before them.

"We need to leave," Zayne said, his voice low and even.

"But your friend, we-"

"We need to leave," Zayne repeated. "Now."


Note: It's been a while... writing is hard! I finally got everyone out of the library and am beginning to weave in more EU plots to the storyline which will come back later (especially on Dxun) but thanks to everyone as usual that has stuck it out with me and anyone new who stumbles across this. Any and all comments are welcome, they really mean a lot! :)