Those Who Fight
Dante sized up the pair, as they did the same to him.
They were all clad in black, hiding everything save for their eyes.
Dante's coat billowed, as the wind blew between them.
Somewhere, up above in the sky, lights flashed, highlighting the features of the three figures, as they stood silently, assessing their threat.
Only the sound of the train rushing through the districts of the city filled the howling wind that coursed around them.
The sounds of dim battle could be heard up above.
He could feel the raw power in the Force, as his eyes continued to shift towards the pair. In a flash, his free hand carried the bronze, bulbous blade of Alec. With a violent snap-hiss, the blade thrummed to life. He bit down the rage that continued to swell in him, threatening to burst, as his eyes averted to the sky, watching the dark, sleek vessel wink back into its cloak.
The figures began to approach him, wary at the Jedi. Unlike most of the Jedi, Dante was almost always on edge, thus giving into his anger and falling perilously close to the Dark Side. Sith lore dictates that only the strong may survive—and those that prove strong may eventually become the Master. Both Sith had no intention of being culled from their desires.
Not waiting a moment longer, Dante lunged at the pair, bringing both of his lightsabers up in a cross to block the simultaneous downward slashes of his would-be competitors. You won't take her from me so easily, he thought as he pushed them back, rotating his body as his blades whirred around him, creating a blinding and lacerating energy barrier around him, as the crimson blades deflected so easily away from him.
One of the Sith leapt over the Jedi, thrusting out while the other slashed for the Jedi's chest.
Dante locked blades, his left hand angling the viridian blade to the metallic roof, while his right hand angled the sapphire blade to parallel to his chest.
In a blur, both Sith relinquished the lock and renewed their attacks, swinging in wild, yet precise, flurries, forcing the Jedi back.
The Jedi continued to swing his body around, arcing his blades to and fro, anticipating their movements. He thrust out with his viridian blade, while he goaded the other Sith to lock blades with his sapphire one.
Both Sith went into his attack, thrusting their blades at his, only to find it locked against one another.
Dante's blades swirled around them, as he guided both crimson blades to lock against one another, while his blades were on the outer edge. Throwing weight onto his left leg, he pivoted his weight and sent his heel colliding against the face of one Sith, while he brought both blades to bear on the lone Sith.
The lone Sith continued in his precise movements, twirling his own blade around him and deflecting each powerful strike the Jedi threw. He thrust out with his blade spinning around and following the viridian blade, only to successfully slash at the emitter and destroy the blade. Taking advantage of the situation, he summoned the Force around him and pivoted his body, planting his right foot against Dante's chest, sending the Jedi back.
Grunting, Dante flew back and back flipped, landing on the other car, crouched and Rin's blade in his right hand, in a backhand grip.
Both Sith joined together and began to assault Dante, arcing their blades around his body, forcing him to continue to block, as they circled him, crimson clashing against the cool azure blade.
Dante closed in, letting go of his anger and feel the Force guide his hand as he felt himself reach into himself, inching ever closer to his fulcrum. I won't lose Rena! He slashed horizontally and smacked both blades into one another, as he extended his left palm, sending a wave of the Force crashing into the face of one of the unfortunate Sith.
The unfortunate Sith was sent flying off the train, and crashing into a pillar that held the track, falling to his eventual death, several hundred stories down.
"Congratulations," the other Sith said, "you've killed my competitor. Now it is only you and I. We shall see who is the true Master."
"You don't stand a chance, Sith," he spat back, as his hair flailed wildly.
The Sith laughed and then let out a cry as he jumped in, swinging his lightsaber all around, leaving only trace blurs of where he once was.
Dante continued to parry off the strikes, looking for that moment of weakness that he could feel edging ever closer.
The Sith brought his lightsaber up in an overhead strike, somehow missing the Jedi as Dante strafed to the side and slashed in a full 360-degree.
The figure brought his lightsaber around in time to lock with the blade.
Dante felt himself tap into the deepest reaches of himself, going beyond all time and space—beyond even the furthest reaches of the Force in its entirety. He felt his hand being guided as he shoved his opponent away.
The Sith brought his lightsaber up. "So the game's afoot?'
"You're going down," Dante said, as he brought his lightsaber in a kata, moving his blade around his body as he slashed horizontally, then bring it back in a 180-degree backhand motion, followed by him gripping the pommel with both hands as he swung over his body and brought it down to bear on the crimson blade.
The Sith barely had time to react as he managed to block the first swipe, only to be pushed back and lose most of his grip during the second backslash. He brought the blade just over his head, blocking the lightsaber that came crashing down and forcing the Dark Jedi's knees to almost buckle under the pressure.
Groaning and weighing the blade down, Dante slowly mouthed, "almost there," as the lightsaber continued to inch lower and lower, towards his enemy's face.
"I won't be beaten by the likes of you, Jedi," the Sith spat, as he gritted his teeth and groaned as he continued to shove back.
Ignoring his foe's words, Dante continued to press down, until he felt his legs leave the ground.
Taking a risk, the Sith crouched and swiped Dante's feet from under him.
As his body hit the roof, he rolled away, hearing the sizzle, hissing and crackling burn of the Sith's lightsaber crashing against where he had been but moments earlier.
Dante quickly rose, bringing his blade in a backhand motion and deflecting the crimson blade that had appeared near his throat.
The Sith continued to bring his lightsaber towards Dante, spurring himself on as he craved the death of his enemy.
Dante arced both blades away from him, and smashed the pommel of his blade into the face of the Dark Jedi, sending him back.
They stood there, poised and not even panting, as they had both become one with the Force.
"What's your name?" The Sith asked after a moment.
Dante gritted his teeth. "What does it matter to you?"
The Sith chortled. "Well, I suppose it matters little, but in this day and age, one hardly finds an opponent worth his time—or effort."
Dante shrugged. "You tell me yours."
The Sith shrugged, removing his mask. "Fair enough. My name is Dorman Rais." His face was scarred slightly along his left eye; revealing a paler blue eye while the other was a deep, menacing brown. He had a regal nose, and his posture denoted him as an aristocrat—most likely from Serenno. His shorter, matted dark blond hair fluttered around in the wind, revealing the defined features of his relatively small face. Some would consider him somewhat handsome, if it weren't for the marred features on his face.
Dante smirked. "Dante Ravenmoon," he replied.
Dorman laughed again. "Interesting—we have the same initials. Seems the Force is not without a sense of irony."
"Perhaps," Dante replied, feeling less than a kindred understanding between he and his opponent; something that failed to go beyond their mere initials. "Well then, Dorman," Dante said at last, after a moment of sizing one another up, "shall we continue?"
Dorman bowed slightly. "It shall be my pleasure."
Bloody aristocrats, Dante thought sardonically.
Bloody commoners, Dorman thought cynically.
Both Jedi brought their lightsabers up and raced at one another.
Dante brought his swooping down, crashing against the scarlet blade, forcing the Jedi to move his blade back and strike towards Dorman's legs.
Dorman blocked both slashes and arced his lightsaber up, committing himself to making the same movements as Dante, only slashing at one another's chests.
Dante continued to parry, feeling almost as if the enemy was teasing him. He growled and brought his lightsaber all around him, slashing at Dorman's chest and legs in one blur, as he spun about, bringing the sapphire blade around his back as he slashed for the Dark Jedi's head again.
Dorman continued to block and parry each strike with much effort, aware that the slightest mistake could cost his life. He thrust out, forcing Dante to strafe backwards. Taking advantage of the moment, he extended his hand and sent the Jedi flying back with a casual Force-shove.
Falling back, Dante rose once more to see the scarlet blade come flying high above him.
Dorman jumped high into the air, as the train continued to race through the city, and he brought his weapon bearing down towards Dante. "I'm going to finish this!" He screamed, only to find the lightsaber driven into the panel where his quarry had been but a mere moment before.
Dante rolled away and extended his foot, sending Dorman flying back. With a flick of his wrist, Dante severed the hilt of the lightsaber that was still imbedded within the train.
Dorman rose and looked in fear, as a dark expression formed across his face, soon replacing any surprise.
"You lose," Dante hissed.
"No!" The Sith brought both of his hands to face Dante, and the crackling swirl of lightning flew forth, singeing the Sith's fingers, but flying straight towards Dante, who was slightly slow to react.
His lightsaber managed to block and absorb the lightsaber, only to flicker once and twice, as the emitter tore off. No! His eyes went wide as he watched his last link with the woman of his past leave him. "No!" He screamed as he was sent back with a burst of the blue lightning.
Dorman laughed, obviously believing he had gained the upper hand, as he moved closer and extended his hand again.
Dante moved swiftly, closing the serene feeling of the Force and channeling all of his rage and anger into killing the Sith, as he rolled away and rose, bringing both of his hands out to clutch the Force lightning in the center of his palms.
Dorman growled as he poured his strength and determination to win against the Jedi into his attack, hoping to force the Jedi to relent and die.
Of course, he didn't know Dante.
Dante gritted his teeth and with a feral growl, he shoved back with the Force, moving closer towards the Dark Jedi, who was moving towards Dante.
Both of them continued to groan and scream as they continued pouring their rage and determination into their stalemate, inching closer.
"I…won't…lose!" Dorman screamed hysterically, as they locked eyes with one another and the lightning flared all around them.
"I will make you pay!" Dante hissed as the thoughts of Rin's death, Alec's death, Xavier and Nathaniel's death—the thought of losing everyone he had ever cared about—poured into his mind, as he expelled it into his rage.
Dorman continued to struggle, his narrow eyes going wide in complete horror as he watched Dante slowly gaining more ground.
Dante continued to move, as he brought ends of his palms together, channeling the Force into him as massive blue orbs of energy formed around his hands, which were beginning to slowly burn the gloves he wore.
Dorman watched on in horror as he realized that he had only been giving the Jedi a means of crushing him then and there.
Dante's eyes narrowed and he let out a final scream as he shoved with all of his might, sending the massive ray of blue energy back towards Dorman.
Both Jedi flew back in their respective directions, as a blue shockwave overcame the pair.
Dante was shoved back immensely, hearing only the pitch and whine of engines behind him before he found the inviting warmth of darkness.
Dorman, however, felt searing heat burn through his armour and undergarments, shearing through his shoulders, as he smelled the sickly sweet scent of burnt flesh all over his body. He couldn't scream, overwhelmed with the intensity of pain as he crashed into another car—one that carried cargo, burying him in a mass of fallen plasteel containers. He lay there, covered in burns and containers, too weak to move—to even moan—, as he felt himself losing consciousness. How could I lose? Bloody Jedi…the plan will go on…and I shall find my way to you… I will destroy you, Dante Ravenmoon, he swore, if it is the last thing I do. He knew only darkness afterwards.
Bastila looked at Jolee, frowning as he merely returned a shrug. "You know, you shouldn't have sent him running like that. What if he is in danger?"
"He'll be fine," the older man replied, with a casual wave of his hand. "He's gotten a lot stronger since before."
Bastila furrowed her brow, her mind still reeling from the thought of cloned Sith Revans, all of them eager to destroy everything her Revan had worked so hard to rebuild before his disappearance. "What do you mean?"
Jolee shrugged, "ah, we've all survived the wars at some price. The boy's still not quite over it yet. He lost someone close." Jolee's shoulders sagged, his face appearing somehow weary and much more worn. "I can see it in his eyes. He's holding onto his Apprentice—clone of Revan or not."
Bastila's countenance grew irate. "She's an aberration of the Living Force. She must be destroyed."
Jolee scoffed, "would you really do that? She's strong—pure of the Light and all that can be said of it." He shook his head, "no, Bastila. Whether or not she is an abnormality of the Living Force depends on what the Force wills of her. In case you haven't noticed, Dante's fate is also entwined with her own. You kill her, you'll be killing your own friend."
Before Bastila could retort, Forn interrupted as she raced towards the pair.
"Coruscant's under attack!"
"We need to go," Jolee muttered. He turned to face the crestfallen Masters sitting at the far corner of the vestibule. "Cyrin, Ash—we need to go now."
"What's going on?" Cyrin asked, as he brought his hands across his chest.
"Coruscant's being assaulted by the Sith!"
"Why couldn't we feel it?" Bastila asked, looked at Cyrin and Jolee.
"The Dark Side clouds everything," Vandar answered, hobbling over to the group.
"There are too few of us to do anything," Dustil said, gritting his teeth.
"You're wrong," came another voice, forcing everyone to turn and face the figure.
Atton Rand and Visas Marr entered the chambers.
"We will lend whatever aid you require," Visas said, bowing in front of the Jedi Masters—and nudging Atton to do likewise.
"Where's Dante? And what do you propose we do?" Cyrin asked, as a loud crash resounded throughout the planet.
The planetary shields had failed, and the Sith had begun their bombardment.
"He's unconscious for now, he's resting in the ship's medbay," Visas said, with some regret. She remembered picking up his injured and somewhat scorched body. He hadn't said a single word, except for calling out one name: Rin.
"Well whatever it is, we need to do it fast," Atton said, looking over towards the diminutive Master.
Vandar closed his eyes for a moment, before he opened them. "Right, this Padawan is. Act quickly we must—destroy the Sith we must."
"Then it's settled," Jolee said. "We'll need to divide up into groups," he paused, turning to face Cyrin and Ash, "I trust the Temple still has a few ships in its hangar?"
The hard-as-nails Master nodded.
Ash remained silent.
"All right," Jolee began, not waiting for anything else. "Bastila, Dustil, and Visas will go to the Republic flagship. We'll let Bastila aid in her Battle Meditation. Frreral, the Kid and I will go infiltrate the enemy flagship—,"
"It's not that easy," Forn said. "There is a Republic battle group that is assaulting Carth's fleet."
"What?" Bastila's face was contorted in an expression of confusion.
"The Sith have managed to sow the seeds of dissent within the ranks," Cyrin noted.
Jolee could only grunt.
"Well, that makes things a bit complicated," Atton chimed in. "Come on, old man, we can still do this—unless you're scared now?"
Jolee cast a glance at the younger man, "I've been in worse situations since before your father was in diapers, kid. This just means that we've run into some complications."
"It gets worse," Forn added.
"What do you mean 'worse?'" Jolee asked, exasperated.
"The Sith arrived only a few moments ago—their flagship is the Leviathan."
"The Leviathan? I thought it was destroyed during the Starforge!" Bastila exclaimed. She clenched her round jaw, turning her gentle features into something a bit harder.
"Seems the Force isn't even willing to cut an old man a break," Jolee muttered, shaking his head.
"Well, what's the plan?" Atton asked. "Are we going to sit here like a herd of Banthas to the slaughter or are we going to do something about this?"
"Pipe down, kid," Jolee said, rubbing his temples, "you're giving me a headache with that noise coming from your mouth."
Atton only glared at the old man, amused at his candor.
"All right," Jolee began, "Visas, Frreral and I will go infiltrate the enemy Republic flagship."
Visas only nodded, while Frreral growled in agreement.
"Bastila will stay aboard the Republic flagship along with the Kid and Onasi's kid," Jolee added.
Bastila nodded curtly, along with Dustil while Atton opened his mouth to say something, only to be nudged by Visas.
"Ash, Cyrin and Vandar will stay here and monitor the ground troops—and ensure that the Younglings are safely kept somewhere."
"I'll have my guard take them to the Chancellor's bunker," Forn said.
Jolee nodded.
"But what about the Leviathan?" Atton asked, pointing out the fatal flaw in their plan.
"Trust me kid, that's better left untouched." Jolee couldn't suppress his shudder.
Bastila's eyes looked at the floor, remembering her fateful encounter there. Revan had learned the truth of who he really was, Bastila had temporarily sacrificed herself to save Revan and Malak inevitably turn her to the Dark Side. She suppressed her own shudder at the thought of the terrible memories that accompanied that dark foul place. She couldn't understand why it had survived.
"That's what we have Bastila's Battle Meditation for," Jolee continued, turning to face Bastila. "You still know how to do it, right?"
She cast a sour look at him.
"Just asking," he said, raising his hands in a non-threatening gesture. He faced Atton and said, "while she's busy helping aid the Republic fleet, she will undoubtedly help destroy the Leviathan while the others are busy fighting against the Sith. She'll bolster us, kid, give an old man a break."
Atton shook his head, breathing deeply and exhaling.
Moments after they had spoken, Ash, Forn, Cyrin and Vandar left to rally the Coruscant ground troops, while two distinct Jedi vessels flew high up into the glittering night sky.
On board the Jedi support ship, Jolee was piloting, while Visas and Frreral sat comfortably, tapping away several switches and panels.
"You've flown one of these things before?" Frreral asked, surprised at Jolee's ability to pilot the small infiltrator.
"I've been flying before you were born, my hairy friend," Jolee replied.
"So how did you end up on Kashyyyk?"
Jolee shrugged nonchalantly, "I crashed."
Moments after, the sound of Visas and Frreral strapping on their crash webbing could be heard.
Jolee could only chuckle.
Author's Notes: well, there you have it; Dante made a new enemy and the Gang is ready to lend their aid to the Battle of Coruscant, KOTOR style. Up next, we see Atris and her motives behind her full-fledged Sith allegiance. The focus is now shifting towards the main characters we all know and love, while Dante takes a bit of a backseat. On that note, I have some bad news: I told you all that I had finished Catharsis and that I was running through some editing and then posting them at certain intervals. Unfortunately, I won't be able to do that anymore--or until I find a backup-- because my hard drive is dead, taking all my info and stories with it. So that means I might have to rewrite the ending to Catharsis, which spans several longer chapters. I hope that you all can bear with me until I either find (a) a complete backup or (b) an incomplete backup so I can get to rewriting the ending. Thanks for the support I've been receiving and I am sorry for any, if at all, inconvenience.
