Serana was untouchable.
She carved her way through the Jedi. Strikes fell all around her. She blocked, parried, countered. One Jedi ran at her and she took his head off, blocked an attack from behind her and let out a blast of the Force that threw her attackers backwards. Illusions drifted around her, of herself, of others. The Loth-cat jumped at someone and they screamed as it clawed at their face, and Serana took the opportunity and bisected them at the waist. It was like trying to use magick. She shut her mind down, focused on the Force and allowed herself to fight on automatic. Every life she claimed felt like justice, for her mother, her father, for Ella and her baby brother. For her people that the Jedi had slaughtered in their mad lust for power. One of the Jedi tried to use the Force against her and she pushed him back so hard that he slammed into a pillar and ruptured all over the place. Bursts of lightning flew from her hands, purely on instinct, striking people down. She could feel the Force, all around her, what people were going to do before they did it. She could see the currents of it, all around her, between and amongst everything, and she looked deep into the Force and something looked back. She heard its name, and for the first time in her life, she felt true terror.
A laser blast jerked her out of the vision. The world snapped back into place around her. The Mandalorians had arrived. S17 and Mira fell in around her as she finished off the last few Jedi.
She felt sick as she looked back along the hall. She hadn't realised how many people there had been there. She must have been fighting for hours to leave so many corpses, a carpet of bodies that stretched from one end of the hall to the other.
"S17," she snapped, trying to cover it, "hack into their computer. See if you can find anything about Ashla."
She whirred as she worked. "I got nothing. This looks suspicious, though. Tarith Synra. Head of the Department of Sanitation."
"How's that suspicious?"
"Because he's been paid the same amount as a Jedi Grand Master. A little odd, don't you think?"
"Find him."
She beeped. "He's in his office. Locking the doors so he can't get out." She worked for a couple of seconds. "Top floor of one of the towers. Room 177-A."
An elevator whisked them up to the top of one of the towers. Mira started humming along with the elevator music.
"That's it," Mira said. Serana flicked her hand, tearing the door off its hinges and throwing it through the window.
A short man in a robe cowered behind his desk. Mira hauled him out and threw him to his knees.
"Where is she?" Serana asked. "The girl that you kidnapped on Tython a week ago."
"Wha… What are you taking about?" he stammered. "I don't know anything about –"
Serana cut him off by pulling out one of her lightsabers and pressing it against his throat. He squealed as his skin burned.
"I have exactly zero time for this," she said. "Where is she?"
"The Dark Fleet!" he squealed. A foul smell filled the room as he shat his pants. "The Dark Fleet has her!"
"The Dark Fleet's a myth," Mira said. "They don't exist."
"They do, they do! They're the Jedi's Black Ops division!"
"Alright," Serana said. "Say we believe you. Where's the fleet?"
He told her the name of a planet.
Serana shook him, held him out the window, threatened to cut bits off if he didn't retract what he'd said. It couldn't be true. It couldn't be. Not there.
"Hey!" S17 called, as she dashed through the atrium. "Did you find her? Where are you going?"
She told her.
For the first time in her life, S17 swore.
