Chapter VI: The Rise of Arielle
Drops of salty water slid down Arielle's face.
She didn't care they were from the grey clouds above or her own tear ducts.
She sat on the edge of the ruins overlooking the long passage of platforms where she had fought with Rey. Where she'd murdered Rey. And then Kylo.
Their bodies had long since been swept away by Kef Bir's waves, probably dragged to the ocean's depths in the time since Arielle had been sitting here. Two hours? Maybe three?
She'd lost track of the time she's just been staring out into nothing. Just processing. Everything.
Her best friend's death had always been critical in Arielle's planning. The thought of it had kept Arielle awake at night, but she'd believed she was prepared for it. Arielle had spent ten years preparing.
Now the moment had passed. Arielle had thought she'd feel a sense of completion or even relief.
Not this hollowness.
Like there was a massive, howling gap in her which Kylo had filled. Which was probably true given all the time she'd known him they'd been sending messages back and forth in their minds like a tennis ball.
That space was now torn wide open and yet scraps still remained.
She hated the killing – she did. But so many people were dead by her hand, direct and indirect. Arielle cried and cried, for the people she had loved, the ones she didn't know and even the ones she hadn't liked.
Rey for one. Naive, feisty and lovable Rey. A little puppy that Arielle couldn't quite bring herself to hate. Kriff, she had had a grudging respect for the aspiring Jedi. Perhaps it was ironic that Arielle didn't hate Rey whilst Rey had hated Arielle. In another life, maybe they would have been allies, possibly even friends.
Arielle fidgeted with the commlink she had stolen off the scavenger's corpse and wondered if anyone in the Resistance even knew she was dead. How many friends Rey had left there anyway.
Not the stormtrooper deserter. Finn. A man she'd never known yet Arielle mourned all the same.
Not the last princess of Alderaan. Leia. A mother who had sacrificed herself to redeem her son, only for him to join her in death.
The entire Skywalker lineage and most of the key players in the Resistance were gone
The First Order too, now that Phasma and even Hux had met an unceremonious end.
This is what you wanted, Arielle reminded herself, what had to be done.
I wonder if any decision you've ever made has been entirely your own.
No, she found herself whispering back, it hasn't.
Now Arielle was certain it was tears that streaked across her cheeks and tipped off into the sea below. She didn't hold it back and Arielle let herself go and wept.
The waves below crashed and boomed. For a split second, Arielle wiped her eyes as best she could and thought of how inviting it looked – a much better alternative to the final phase of the plan.
Maybe a better person would have jumped, someone with a whole soul would have rather died than continued.
Instead, she felt a warm brush on her shoulders, gently pulling her back.
Arielle obeyed and shuffled away from the edge.
She wasn't done yet.
Arielle raised her arms to rub away her eyes and was once again shocked when only one of her arms still had a hand. She unravelled the rudimentary bindings and examined the cleaved section of her right arm.
The lightsaber had cauterised the wound entirely and the tawny burn had cooled to a dark ugly stump. Most of the nerves there would have been burnt alongside it – so Arielle was beyond thankful that the wound was only a mild annoyance. It still hurt, but it was bearable.
The fact that she would be at a severe disadvantage didn't bother Arielle as much as she thought it would. Her left hand could still use the lightsaber, just not for a duel. Even aside from her abilities in that regard would have been a disadvantage even with her proper sword hand.
Arielle pushed herself to her feet and began to walk towards her ship where she could bind the wound properly. She pulled a face as she wondered how the hell she was going to fly her ship with one hand.
The Red Honeycomb Zone was gorgeous. The swirling embers darted about like snakes, followed by flashes of amber and gold. Vibrant splashes coiled around the TIE glimmer, dazzling and vibrant and –
Arielle swore loudly as she jerked the control wheel to the right, narrowly avoiding a shimmering pillar that appeared out of nowhere. Piloting a ship through this zone was hard enough but doing it single handedly felt suicidal. The visibility hardly helped thanks to the red haze that otherwise would have been stunning.
Not for the first time, Arielle was thankful for her ship being slower than most TIE fighters.
The zone was a pain, but still a preferable route compared to the gravity wells and other pieces of kriff that littered the way to Exegol. The nava-computer beeped, and she adjusted the course slightly. Behind her, the Wayfinder seemed to hum in approval.
Before leaving Kef Bir, Arielle had located Kylo's discarded TIE whisper. Inside it, the Wayfinder that had once belonged to Darth Vader had glowed in her presence, as if anxious to be underway. It was an ugly thing, a small pyramid with a gravelly frame that barely fitted in her hand, but Arielle didn't care how it looked as long as it led her to Exegol.
To Emperor Palpatine.
To the Final Order and, if her luck held out, whatever was left of the Resistance. Arielle briefly glanced down to her useless forearm, where Rey's commlink blinked at her.
If she had done it correctly, the communicator would be transmitting the safe path to Exegol right to the Resistance. It would look like the coordinates were from Rey, so the rebels would come, believing their Jedi lived and they had a slim shot at victory. A battle just like Endor.
An ultimate confrontation between the Resistance and the Final Order was exactly what Arielle needed.
Not wanted; needed – the bloodbath that would follow plagued Arielle's mind.
Is this what you want then? To murder millions?
Luke's words echoed and Arielle once more yanked the controls to avoid crashing into another swirl of crimson.
"No," Arielle said aloud, "never." She could turn around this very instant. Fly to the Outer Rim and work a life as a farmer or something. She had a choice, she had free will.
I wonder if any decision you've ever made has been entirely your own.
But it wasn't really. Luke had spoken honestly when he'd told her they had been pulling her strings all her life. Arielle doubted she would physically be able to deviate from her current course.
But couldn't she try?
Her fingers on the controls itched and the Force clamped down on Arielle. It was suddenly hard to breathe and she was now inhaling heavily. Her flying became increasingly shaky.
Rey's face burned itself before Arielle, decorated by hot-red tears of water and blood. You're a monster.
Monster.
Arielle fell back in the seat and her hand slipped into her lap. Behind her, the Wayfinder throbbed.
Any decision…
Murder millions.
Something caressed her mind.
Monster.
Has been your own…
A warm touch, one so familiar.
Monster.
Monster.
Arielle.
Monster.
Arielle, wake-up!
Arielle jerked forwards and everything cleared. The red haze vanished, and a dark sphere came into view.
She shook her head and breathed.
In and out. In and out.
Arielle's breathing became steadier and she pulled a strand of hair back behind her ear. The scanners and indeed the windows confirmed she had emerged from the Red Honeycomb Zone. Arielle cursed herself for letting her emotions get the better of her – anything could have happened while she was…
What had happened? One moment she had been piloting, and the next… Somehow, the TIE glimmer had flown itself through the rest of the zone – autopilot? Arielle checked the controls and found that it remained inactive.
Fantastic, I'm losing it. She tugged another hair-strand back, more for her ease than anything, and exhaled deeply. She couldn't allow herself to become distracted now, so Arielle grasped the controls and descended on Exegol.
The Wayfinder led Arielle straight to the Final Order fleet. Thunder sundered the air and, through the dark azure clouds, rows of Star Destroyers swarmed the skies. Bloody red lines coated their hulls, but it was the immense cannon that stuck out of the fronts that sent a chill down her spine – the superlaser. The red aura surrounding it easily cut through the blue smog. And there were over a thousand of them.
Kylo had not exaggerated the capability of Palpatine's fleet – whether she succeeded or failed here, total destruction was inevitable. It should have given Arielle comfort, but she instead wanted to vomit.
Arielle flew down to the surface unopposed and sat the glimmer down on the granite. There was no chance that she hadn't been noticed, meaning she was probably expected and she was walking into a trap.
Or maybe Palpatine was waiting for his granddaughter. Did he know Rey was dead? Did he care?
The cockpit opened with a hiss and Arielle awkwardly climbed out. The wind tugged at the simple grey tunic she had selected. Her other clothes had been soaked so Arielle was glad she had thought to bring a spare set. Battle-leather trousers and a belt clinging onto the Skywalker lightsaber completed her ensemble.
Perhaps a little dull compared to the more flamboyant clothes she was used to, but Arielle somehow doubted her appearance mattered very little to the all-evil Sith lord.
The Sith Citadel loomed over her and lightning crackled above it. The citadel resembled an upside-down pyramid, not dissimilar from the Wayfinder. But the stone or metal – Arielle couldn't tell – used in its construction didn't glow but was midnight black and utterly opaque. Then there was the fact that it was floating.
Arielle winced as she strode towards it. Those ancient Sith must have really dug the whole "evil aesthetic" thing because the citadel looked, felt, and smelled of the dark side. Lightning struck the ground beside her as Arielle entered.
She could just make out a large platform, no doubt to take her underground, into the heart of the citadel where Darth Sidious awaited. Just for reassurance, Arielle brushed against the lightsaber on her belt, the one Rey, Luke and Darth Vader had all wielded. It was of little comfort..
The nothingness beneath her right forearm ached. Arielle wished there had been time to acquire a prosthetic, but even that would have demanded time to adjust to.
She reached the platform and no sooner had Arielle stepped on when it shuddered. Then it began to lower..
A true Sith temple, Arielle thought as the platform descended into an expansive cavern. Towering stone monuments that grew from the ground to the ceiling greeted her, their carved faces bearing the likeness of long-dead Sith lords. They stood upon podiums that were large enough to form walls – corridors that led deeper into the temple. As to how far they stretched, Arielle couldn't tell as the pathways quickly faded into the ebony shadows.
Arielle took a moment to gather herself, instinctively tugging back her hair – and then cursing herself for doing it repeatedly, as if the quirk would bring any measure of comfort. The darkness seemed to slither closer and, as Arielle stepped off, the platform rose, ascending back to the surface.
One way in particular seemed to beckon so Arielle tentatively crept on. Her eyes hastily adapted to the darkness, but even then she could barely see the path ahead. No light aside from a faint blueness from cracks where the Exegol weather shone through. It at least gave her the element of surprise.
But then it also made seeing ahead damn-near impossible. Luke had always emphasised not to become reliant on her eyes, for "they can deceive you". Arielle saw the sense in it, but still deemed people who survived without eyes as legends.
She had forgone her mask thankfully, had left it off since that interrogation with Chewbacca, as it would have been a hindrance in navigating these corridors. It was impractical to wear during a fight, and, as a symbol of her identity with the Knights of Ren, Arielle was loath to continue using it.
Even if killing Kylo technically made Arielle the new Master of the Knights of Ren. A stupid title for worthless people. She would never again work with those curs.
Who does that make me now? Arielle pondered as the brick pathway faded into a natural stone walkway, and the corridor walls became pure rock. She must have been deep underground now. Nienor Helltze is long dead and I've never truly been a Knight of Ren, especially now, so Arielle Ren won't do. Who am I?
Upon initiation, every member of the Knights of Ren took upon a new name, a new identity as they gave themselves to the dark side. Kylo had never explained the origins of his name to her, but she had derived "Arielle" from an old holocron.
There was no story behind it, no great myth or powerful hero. The holocron had just been a list of royal families from the Outer Rim words of the old Republic. Princess Arielle of Nibiru. An ordinary, unremarkable girl who had ran away from her doting family and had never been seen again. The people had labelled her as a coward while her mother had wept for her lost child.
No record of Princess Arielle had existed, and Nienor Helltze had certainly searched. But it seemed the proud planet of Nibiru had tried to forget the missing princess, ashamed that one of their own was so weak.
But a nameless girl kneeling before Snoke hadn't seen the princess as weak. Maybe Princess Arielle had been scared and chose to flee rather than fight. Maybe there was another motive, a noble one that no-one would ever see. Probably not, but she could hope.
That hope had guided Arielle Ren ever since. Up till now anyway – when the true cost had only just dawned on her.
Monster.
She paused and considered. Ren no more, she decided, Arielle will do.
It was a pretty enough name in any case. Nienor had far too much baggage attached to it.
One side of the cliff gave way to a chasm while several other passageways appeared on the other. The walkway she was on continued on until curved round and the faint sound of chanting could be heard. The cultists in Kylo's report, Arielle realised. She then wondered if simply walking in was a good idea. But no better idea made itself known..
Arielle rested her hand on the lightsaber and had barely stepped forwards when another presence materialised. A familiar one. The one she had spent most of her adult life hating. She turned to face one of the passages and knew that the Knights of Ren were down there.
She flexed her fingers.
Seven years' worth of rage began to boil up inside her – Vicrul whipping her when she failed, Ushar slicing her hand open, and every one of them watching in glee as Snoke threw her to his pet Nexu. The twin scars from where it had mauled her twitched.
Palpatine can wait, Arielle resolved and half-ran down the passage. He was an old, decrepit man on life-support – she could have her revenge and kill the emperor later.
The passage sloped downwards and went on for about a mile before Arielle detected light. Not bright sunshine, but the same azure from the surface. Sure enough, she entered from the passage into a small overhang and only had to glimpse upwards to see a tunnel big enough for a shuttle to fly down.
Below the overhang was a landing platform where the Night Buzzard squatted. Shaped like two scimitars back-to-back, the ship reeked of the dark side, albeit diluted, far from the intense stench of the citadel. Arielle grimaced as two figures exited the ship. She recognised Ap'lek Ren and Ushar Ren.
The vibro-axe Ap'lek always carried glinted in the Exegol light and Arielle knew the taste of the blade all too well. Both were sadists in love with suffering – killing them would be a pleasure. No voices in her head objected. Her ethics knew where to shove it.
Taking a few steps back, Arielle ran up to the edge, vaulted off the overhang and dropped twenty feet down to the platform. She landed on all fours and Ap'lek and Ushar turned towards her in surprise, weapons already in hand.
Arielle lifted her head. "Hi." And then threw out her hand.
A single pulse was all that was needed to hurl the knights against the Night Buzzard. Undisciplined, Ap'lek and Ushar's shields against the Force shattered like glass under her might. Arielle telekinetically gripped their throat, pulling them off the ground. Their own hands coiled around their necks and the oh-so powerful Knights of Ren were powerless before her. Arielle smirked.
Their weapons clattered to the ground as she closed the distance between them. The knights thrashed, but Arielle's will held – half a thought would have both their throats crushed. The triumph gave her clarity and Arielle paused a meter away from her captives.
She clicked her tongue. "I'm disappointed – I thought the legendary Knights of Ren would put up more of a fight." They struggled and Arielle could now hear them desperately gasping for air, the sound of her tormentors slowly suffocating. Why the kriffing hell does it sicken me?!
Arielle loosened her hold slightly, enough for them to talk, and the pair gulped down air like water. They choked and spluttered until at last Ap'lek's breathing steadied and he gazed at Arielle.
"You are an incredibly slow learner Arielle Ren," he croaked. She immediately tightened her chokehold. Bastard. Bastard through and through.
"That's what you always used to say," she leered at him, "that I never learnt anything quickly – that I was a kriffing waste of time." She advanced until she could hear his parched breathing. "But look where we are now."
She spat on Ap'lek's visor and brushed her tongue over her teeth as the spit slowly dribbled down his mask. "I just beat you, bastard. You have lost." Ap'lek's throat constricted, but Arielle wasn't going to let him die just yet. "And I am going to make sure I repay every second of pain you inflicted on me."
Arielle could see it now: the electro-whip lashings she would give Ushar, the squarks she would hear after feeding Trudgen and Cardo to a Nexu, the smell of Ap'lek's blood as she sliced him up piece by piece, the taste –
The hum of a cannon behind her head interrupted Arielle's fantasies.
"Drop them, girl," came the deep rumble of Cardo Ren, accompanied by the whirling of another blaster – Kuruk Ren probably. Two more pairs of footsteps echoed, and Arielle didn't have to be a genius to know she was encircled.
Trapped.
"I said, drop them!" Footsteps closed around her. But Arielle did not let go. With her free hand, she reached for her lightsaber – the Knights of Ren had no defence against a lightsaber attack. Arielle readied herself to spin and –
Her stump knocked into the hilt.
In spite of their masks, Arielle could have sworn the knights snickered.
Defeated, Arielle slackened her choke and Ap'lek and Ushar dropped to the ground. She raised her arms over her head and turned to face her former teammates.
Cardo had his arm cannon trained on her head while Kuruk walked to her side, his gun never leaving its target. Behind her, Arielle could hear Ap'lek and Ushar struggle to their feet. Trudgen Ren and Vicrul Ren appeared on either side of Cardo.
Had she really just been so unbelievably stupid to walk into a trap?!
Cardo indicated her stump. "Didn't you used to have two hands?"
"Must have lost it," Arielle ground out.
More snickering as Ap'lek sauntered round to join Cardo. "The emperor is expecting you."
Well there goes the element of surprise.
It must have shown on her face because Cardo then said roughly, "did you really believe Lord Sidious would not sense the passing of his granddaughter or the last Skywalker?"
She didn't answer. Ap'lek laughed, a low husky rattle. "Just as she thought she could sneak in, dispatch us with ease and then strike down the emperor without breaking a sweat." Another rasp of a laugh. "You lose, bastard. Poor little Arielle Ren."
"Formerly Ren," she said sharply, "it's just Arielle now."
Ap'lek shook his head. "Doesn't work that way, girl – once you join the Knights of Ren, you don't ever leave. At least…" He pointed to his head. "…not up here."
Before Arielle could even register it, Ushar crept up behind her and pummelled her gut. She doubled over and spat out blood.
"Kylo once said you were the strongest of us all," Ushar said in his silky-soft voice, "prove it."
Then Arielle's skull, torso and ribs screamed as Ushar's gauntlets played them like drums, over and over again. Her voice became hoarse from shrieking and Arielle waved in and out of consciousness. Her arms were gripped, and Arielle was dimly aware of being dragged away. A squeeze on her mind again.
Stay strong.
Another clout. She fainted.
Kriff, crink, kark, di'kut, frang, bastard, moojpuck, poodoo…
Arielle cursed with every swear she knew.
She had regained consciousness a few minutes ago, awoken to find her head and body bruised and battered – not so much to impair her, but enough to render her in a poor fighting state. Even if she wasn't underhanded. Ushar and Vicrul dragged her by the arms, Kuruk and Trudgen behind while Ap'lek and Cardo led the way. Little chance of escape.
On the plus side – she was being taken to Palpatine, which had been her original plan.
Kriffing hell. Another string of mental curses, this time for going off-plan and hunting the Knights of Ren instead of taking out the emperor. How had she been so stupid?
Why? Just why had she thought that was a good idea? In hindsight, the knights had obviously been used to draw her into a trap. Even if it weren't, there was no way that she could have bested all of them given her underhandedness. If she could've moved, Arielle would have bashed her head against the stone for her incompetence.
Her entire head pounded, not just from the bruises and scars and Force-knows-what-else, but from overwhelming. The echoes continued to reverberate, and it hurt. Arielle wanted to curl up and cry, and then murder and hurt everyone in sight, and then mourn them and cry some more. And then she was crying, and the tears hit the ground with a ping. Ushar noticed them and tightened his grip.
She should have jumped into the ocean.
As if in answer, Arielle felt her mind being stroked, caressed. Don't think that, it whispered, not for one second.
That damned thing. It had been haunting her since Kef Bir. She'd previously dismissed it as a figment of her imagination, a sign she was going mad.
But she wasn't imagining this. Was she?
Are you real? Arielle silently asked. Or am I losing my mind?
Does it matter? There will be time to cry later. Arielle, fight it.
Maybe the subsequent tender rub was imagined, but Arielle stopped weeping.
They came to a halt and Ushar yanked her chin up. Just over him, Arielle caught a glimpse of an archway where the chanting she had heard earlier was coming from.
"Stand," Ushar quietly ordered. Arielle spat at him.
The torturer aimed a blow at her ribcage and she braced, only for Ap'lek to catch the fist.
"Lord Sidious will be displeased if his new vessel is any more bruised," he supplied huskily, and Ushar lowered his fist.
Vessel? Kriff. The horror of the realisation set in and it must have shown for Ap'lek gave a low laugh when he turned to her.
"Why else did you think you were being kept alive?" Ap'lek quipped humourlessly. "Stand the girl up – she will face Lord Sidious on her own two feet."
Ushar and Vicrul pulled Arielle to her feet, but her mind was spinning. Vessel. Kylo had said that Palpatine's spirit was residing in a decomposing clone body – and he had wanted Rey brought to him alive...
Palpatine had wanted to possess his granddaughter and now wanted to possess Arielle. Nausea came on as she was pulled into the Sith throne room.
The chant was easily the most terrifying thing. Thousands of Sith cultists gathered in a large spectator area, hardly visible save for their torturous mantra. Their section was separated by a fissure around the throne room. It seemed to Arielle that they had gathered to watch some sort of sporting match.
Her feet ached from where Arielle was dragged across the rough, hewn platform – elevated above an abyss visible through the countless cracks and gaps in the floor where blue light from the lightning danced about. The bolts of lightning speared themselves into the floor, illuminating what lay beyond.
The throne of the Sith. It was composed of rock with prongs that stuck out in a way that felt unnatural. A set of steps led up to the actual seat, engraved with a design that no doubt meant something ethereal and senseless.
Rotting flesh pricked Arielle's nostrils and she slowly looked to the left of the throne. Machinery whirled and a figure was lowered down. It wore aged black robes with a scarred face that screamed of death. The eyes had no pupils but were a void of milky whiteness. Emperor Palpatine. Darth Sidious.
The machinery jerked him forwards and Palpatine looked Arielle up and down. She watched as he took in the missing hand, the scars and general haggardness. The emperor sneered. "What a vile young thing."
His voice was raspy, like it was an enormous strain to even speak. The look Palpatine gave her filled Arielle with disgust – he looked at her as if she were less relevance than the dirt under his boot.
"Look who's talking," she bit back.
Palpatine only chuckled, a low rasp promising a myriad of suffering. "So, there's a spark in there somewhere. Good…"
The last word had such a foulness to them that Arielle shuddered.
The emperor pointed at her with a single rotted finger – a simple gesture that demanded total control. "On her knees."
Ushar shoved Arielle down and her kneecaps barked as they met the stone. The decrepit figure hovered above her - a dictator in name and spirit.
"I was hoping for my granddaughter," Palpatine said, "full of power – my power. Young Solo had too much defiance in him, too much like his father. But you…" His pale eyes narrowed. Arielle stared right back into them, feeling as intimidating as she looked.
"How a scrawny, talentless thing – whose only claim to power is throwing dirt around – ever defeated my bloodline is beyond me." The emperor moved himself closer and examined Arielle again. "There's more to you than meets the eye, isn't there?"
Arielle remained silent and Palpatine, realising she wasn't going to answer, pulled himself back. He motioned again with his hand. A deep rumble echoed above them, and Arielle looked up to see the ceiling retract until she was staring into the Exegol sky.
Which was filled with spaceships.
The Final Order and the Resistance.
"My Final Order," Palpatine hollered, the pitch of his voice rising. "Just like I, my empire is reborn."
Explosions of red and blue and green blazed above the citadel with ships of every size and make flying against each other. Long cruisers hunkered through while small nimble crafts tore past. X-Wings darted in and out of Star Destroyers, letting their cannons loose while TIE fighters chased them, both trying to outmanoeuvre the other.
It wasn't just the Resistance against Final Order – it was the entire galaxy against the Final Order. Somehow, the entire kriffing galaxy had risen up – a fleet unseen for a millennium, just to avoid the tyrannical grip of the Sith yet again. Arielle's stomach churned.
Palpatine must have sensed her unease because he looked back down at her and cackled.
"What do you hope the outcome of this would be?" Palpatine pondered, "a victory for the light and a happy ending – except then they'll start wondering who struck down their beloved Jedi…"
He cackled again and Arielle recoiled at the grime and filth in the Sith lord's teeth. "Or what if the dark side triumphed? The galaxy falls beneath my might." He casually gestured at her. "All while in your pretty little body. Either way, you lose, and you will die. The name of Palpatine shall reign eternal. It will sound across generations and the children of the future will tremble at the sound. That is my legacy, all while your name – whatever it is you're calling yourself now – will be forgotten, lost in the sea of time."
The emperor turned and addressed the red-plated Sovereign Protectors at his side. "Prepare the ritual."
Arielle trembled.
Not at Palpatine's monologue but at the reverberation that shook the citadel. A shudder that shredded whatever was left of her soul to pieces.
Bile filling her throat, Arielle looked back up at the sky.
Where the only thing left was death and fire.
BB-EN rolled through the Steadfast's corridors, his specifical form effortlessly gliding along the smooth floor. He liked the Steadfast very much, even if the computers were a little obnoxious. But the layout was logical and, even if EN hadn't already rolled through this section sixteen thousand times, it was easy to plan the fastest route to his destination: the command deck, or the bridge as the organics called it.
Squads of stormtroopers, armoured in white and red, thundered past, ignoring EN as he slipped through a series of blast droids. From the alarms blaring, EN concluded that battle had commenced. It would marginally simplify his task.
EN had patiently bidden his time after Mistress Arielle had departed. He had been displeased that his mistress had not taken him with her, but happy that she had given EN a chance to prove himself.
Unlike the stormtroopers that ignored the red and silver bowling ball, Mistress Arielle had always treated EN with respect and EN was pleased that his loyalty and expertise were valued by an organic for once. He would gladly do any undertaking she commanded.
And a simple one such as this? Mistress Arielle clearly underestimated EN if she had hesitated to ask him.
BB-EN came to a halt outside the elevator and patiently waited. Typical of the ship's lifts to never be punctual.
The elevator pinged and the door uncurled. Several stormtroopers ran out and EN jolted to the left to avoid being kicked. Could they really not see him? In EN's experience, life forms rarely process anything they look at if it wasn't relevant or arousing.
One trooper did notice EN and stopped. "Where are you going droid?"
BB beeped his response. He told no lie about his intentions.
The trooper stared at EN for a moment. "Kriffing droids," he murmured before running off.
EN swivelled his head at the coarse language before rolling into the elevator. If he had the time, EN would have submitted a memorandum to the high council that all troops should learn binary. That way, all personnel could understand droids and then they might have avoided this situation.
But EN knew that organics were fundamentally lazy, so they would and never will take any notice of him or any other. Perhaps they deserved this fate. EN extended an arm and jabbed at the control panel. The door closed and the lift ascended to the bridge.
Despite the full-scale battle raging in the skies, the bridge of the Steadfast was remarkably organised. Officers and stormtroopers alike moved with a methodical, if a bit hurried, approach and EN commended General Pryde for his command style.
The general himself stood at the helm of the bridge, hands behind his back in a pose of unwavering determination – almost like a droid. Slowly and silently, EN rolled past him towards a terminal – although he noticed that Pryde had glanced down and raised an eyebrow in the way organics do at the BB droid's presence.
EN uncovered his scomp link and inserted it into the terminal. Almost at once, the interface realised what EN was attempting to do and tried to activate an alarm. EN swiftly silenced the computer. Then he began to upload.
The rataplan of blasterfire had EN swivel his visual sensor away from the terminal. An orange and white coloured X-Wing had narrowly missed the Steadfast's bridge. EN whistled in frustration - he would be extremely frustrated if the star destroyer blew up prematurely.
The terminal read 33% uploaded. He detected movement and EN turned to see an officer approaching Pryde. "Sir, there appears to be a problem with the systems."
"What manner of a problem?" Pryde replied coolly, though his face momentarily flashed with concern.
"We don't know," the officer answered, and a cold sweat had appeared on his brow.
EN turned back to the terminal and saw the virus was at 52% uploaded. The speed was astonishing to EN, given he was spreading the virus throughout over a thousand star destroyers simultaneously.
Since Mistress Arielle had given EN the orders twenty-six hours ago, he had retreated to a charging port and worked on creating the virus. It was part of his programming after all, since his mistress had had the foresight to have her personal droid updated with such procedures. Programming the virus to quickly overcome the First Order's specific firewalls and computer defences was not overtly difficult for him. EN spent most of his days coupled up to them, so the process was simple and enjoyable.
The size of the Final Order exceeded expectations yet the requirement of a navigational tower to guide the fleet made it that much easier to spread the virus. A navigational tower currently located on the Steadfast.
Another officer ran up to Pryde and he was as white as the stormtroopers' armour. "It's a virus, sir!"
Pryde gripped the terrified man by the throat. "The function and origin?!" The crew were now rapt with attention.
86%
The officer gulped best he could. "It's setting the axial superlasers to overload – all of them."
Pryde dropped the man as the deck erupted into chaos, everyone pointlessly punching the controls. The officer gasped and said as best he could, "somehow, it's coming from the bridge."
EN removed his link - the terminal now read 100%.
Features coated in silent fury, General Pryde turned to his left. His eyes met with EN's photoreceptor. Understanding passed between them; a surge of satisfaction ran through EN.
Thunder clapped. Blinding light flared. EN rolled forwards to look through the bridge's window, to see every last star destroyer erupt in a blaze of crimson inferno. Explosion after explosion tore through the sky, engulfing every ship in its wake.
EN hoped Mistress Arielle would be pleased. Then the floor beneath him burst and swallowed BB-EN whole.
The sky was a web of blood-red light, explosions dancing across and not one ship went free. Resistance and First Order and Mon Calamari and Naboo and every vessel alike fell into the fire-bath. The deafening boom split the very ground apart and Arielle flung out her arms as she collapsed.
She felt them. Their screams were louder than any explosion and somehow hurt more than anything before.
Then silence came.
Millions of deaths in a single second and Arielle hated the Force for letting her feel them.
Using the axial superlayers to destroy the final remnants of the Galactic Empire and New Republic had become Arielle's endgame the moment she'd heard of them. Obliterating both sides in a single sweep had been too good a chance to pass up. So, Arielle had taken out the Force-users of both sides before she'd lured the Resistance to Exegol for one last tussle with the Final Order.
The entire plan had depended on BB-EN. Her faithful companion. Arielle had hated herself for using Ian like this, but there was no-one else she could trust – no-one who was so inconspicuous and unassuming that he could create and upload a virus without being caught.
And now her Ian was less than a pile of dust.
Along with a fleet of ships Arielle had never even imagined would rise. They chose to be here, she reminded herself, they chose to fight, to die if they must.
The tears didn't come as Arielle expected. Maybe she'd already exhausted all her tears. But nothing took their place. Arielle simply raised her head to meet Palpatine's hateful gaze. No mask could disguise the emptiness within.
"Your empire reborn," she said spitefully, "and gone once more."
Palpatine's nostrils flared and brow furrowed, and unfiltered loathing poured out of every inch of Darth Sidious. Thirty years of scheming and spinning threads in the shadows – all gone up in smoke. In his curled fists, sparks glistened.
Arielle had come to the citadel to kill the last Sith Lord – now the final trace of the old order. Even though she'd failed, she'd succeeded in every other regard. The First Order and Resistance were dust, the Jedi were dust. Palpatine's grand master plan was ash and it would be lifetimes before he could fully rebuild his fleet.
She had won.
Her plan and succeeded.
No matter that she was fractured in body and soul.
No matter that victory felt like a defeat.
Death this instant would be a blessing.
Ushar and Vicrul hauled Arielle to her feet and she gave Palpatine one last glare of defiance. The words die with dignity became a steady chance inside her. Do your worst.
As Arielle had hoped, the sheer hate bubbling in Sidious overrode any plan he had to make her his vessel. Any plans beyond this moment were forgotten. The Sith understood one thing only: revenge.
Palpatine snarled, one utterly inhuman snarl – the cry of a beast driven by base instinct. His decayed fingers snapped out – sparks flying as they glowed a murderous indigo. The air around them convulsed and the knights stepped away from her.
Arielle slammed her eyes shut - her heart beating rapidly in anticipation. The chanting faded away and no other sound mattered beside the snapping and crackling of the lightning.
Arielle heard it unleashed. Her body braced.
Her body remained braced.
The electric crackle remained, yet it wasn't touching her. A sudden collective gasp around her had Arielle opening her eyes.
And she too gasped and trembled.
For before Arielle stood a transparent figure with a blue tint, their back to her with their arm outstretched. Energy pulsed in their hand, where the streams of Force lightning were being painlessly absorbed. They were clothed in a familiar black ensemble with thick black hair that fell to their ears.
A knock in her mind. Did you miss me?
The voice comforting her since she'd left Kef Bir, using the space in Arielle's mind that only one person had ever accessed – the one who had taught her how.
The Knights of Ren had taken up battle stances and the Sovereign Protectors had closed in with raised blasters. They knew this new threat, and, even before he turned his beautiful face towards her, Arielle knew who her saviour was.
Palpatine ceased his barrage of lightning and it was panic and terror that adorned his ruined body. He lips quivered as he sneered. "Solo."
The Force ghost turned and looked at Arielle. Her eyes spiked and mouth fell agape.
Kylo Ren gave Arielle a half-smile before he swung back to Palpatine. Arielle breathed heavily, the danger around her blanked out.
The dark lord of the Sith trembled. "Impossible – what trickery is this?!" His voice became shrill and it was indeed terror that Arielle could sense in Palpatine. A man so caught up in delusions of living forever that he had never thought there might be another path to immortality – and one the Jedi had discovered at that.
Even if Kylo had had no training in the matter, shouldn't have the ability. Yet Arielle suspected who had had a hand in the matter.
Kylo simply responded, "the priestess' send their regards."
His body dissolved into wisps of blue tendrils that spread out and shot back, passing through Arielle and into the knights and protectors. They were thrown to the floor with a simultaneous crack, landing scattered on their backs. Machinery whirled and Palpatine pulled himself back into the shadows.
Arielle spun around. Kylo had reformed and was levitating.. His features were not of hate or even pity but were soft and set with assurance.
"How are you here?" Arielle breathed, "why are you here?"
Kylo smirked.
Do what needs to be done, he whispered mentally – their old way of talking calming her shuddering. Resolve ignited in Arielle.
He winked and became incorporeal once more. The wisps twirled and rushed towards her. Arielle gave a little gasp as Kylo passed through her body and vanished.
The hollowness she felt a moment ago subsided and the emptiness became strength. Like two different shards of power merged to become one whole.
Palpatine remained out of sight, but the Knights of Ren and Sovereign Protectors were back on their feet and advancing on her.
Arielle's hand clasped the Skywalker lightsaber. The blue blade ignited, and she postured – her left arm raised and right extended.
Her right arm was not a useless stump but a director. Having a hand was not needed to use the Force and with her affinity in a battleground made with stone…
Arielle smirked.
The Sovereign Protectors tried their luck first and five plasma bolts soared towards Arielle. She turned towards them, deflected the bolts away, and used her right arm to send a wave of the Force over at the knights.
They fell back to the ground, and Arielle knew she had to make the time count. Focusing solely on the Protectors, she reached out once more to the earth around her. Unlike the grass and sea and air, the lifeless rocks had always been the hardest to control, but Arielle wasn't about to give it a choice.
Almost reluctantly, the cavern answered her call. The Protectors closed in and fired in union. The ground beneath Arielle yawned and the energy bolts bounced harmlessly off a floating slab of stone.
She sent the slab flying towards her and the Protectors scattered in their panic. The slab struck two and a sharp crack in their helmets rang out.
One brave Sovereign Protector had dived for cover and was now scrambling to his feet. He looked up. Arielle gave a two-digit wave and then drove her lightsaber through his neck.
The remaining two protectors heard their comrade's demise. With a clear shot, they released their final blasts. But now she was focused, Arielle precisely deflected the energy bolts. The final Sovereign Protectors crumbled with steaming holes in their chests.
"Clever girl." Arielle glanced across the platform to where Ap'lek, Ushar, Cardo, Vicrul, Kuruk and Trudgen stood. The Sith Eternal cultists remained in their stand, silent and mesmerised. She casually strolled over to her tormentors. Ap'lek alone stepped forwards.
"Do you really believe you can face us all and live?" Ap'lek roughly asked, caressing his vibro-axe as he did. The sight once promised to Arielle another day of gruelling punishment. Now it just looked he was showing off.
"Do you think you can face me and live?" Arielle asked instead. Beneath his mask, Arielle knew Ap'lek was smiling at the whiny little girl he still believed her to be.
So Arielle gripped her lightsaber and threw it.
Ap'lek's head landed with a thump.
Arielle drew the lightsaber back. "Yes," she answered and stared down the other knights, frozen in shock, "what do you lot think?" Silence for a moment, then Kuruk roared and the knights charged.
She tightened her grip and met them head-on.
Cardo and Kuruk each let loose a volley of blaster-fire, which Arielle dropped and rolled to avoid. Trudgen swung low and narrowly missed Arielle's neck. She repaid this by cutting off his foot. He screamed until her lightsaber smote Trudgen's neck.
The focus on Trudgen cost Arielle after a sharp pain struck her back. Ushar grabbed her shoulder and threw Arielle backwards to the ground. He jabbed with his war club at her skull, but Arielle shifted at the last moment and it struck the ground beside her, inches away. Wildly, Arielle kicked out and swept Ushar's feet.
The torturer tumbled, only for Vicrul to take his place. Arielle rolled into a handstand and booted Vicrul's helmet. Distracted, he lashed out and Arielle, back on her feet, dodged and manoeuvred around the knight, taking him into a headlock. Cardo fired and Arielle impulsively used Vicrul as a shield. The blast caught him in the chest and Arielle recalled her lightsaber to block the follow-up blasts.
Now with three of their own down, the remaining Knights of Ren acted more cautiously. The winded Ushar took cover behind Cardo and Kuruk who kept up a torrent of firepower. Arielle found herself stepping back as the brunt of the blasts began to take their toll on her rookie hand.
She flung back her right limb and found pebbles and dust answer her call. Cardo and Kuruk closed in and Arielle sent a storm to greet them.
A whoosh in the breeze and a mist of dust flew towards the Knights of Ren, clouding their visors so that they didn't see where Arielle focused the earth.
The dust cleared and Cardo and Kuruk once again raised their blasters. Arielle didn't move.
Not as the plasma bolts kissed the gravel snared in their own barrels.
The weapons exploded and Arielle caught a throb of shock from Cardo Ren and Kuruk Ren before the backfire took them with it.
Arielle raised her lightsaber as Ushar Ren stepped over his comrades' mutilated bodies. He gawked at them briefly as the realisation sat in. That he was the last man standing. He weighed his war club in his hand, debating whether or not to stand and fight.
Arielle knew the torturer's decision before Ushar looked up, rotated his club, and dashed towards her.
She dashed as well.
Ushar never really had hoped for a victory against her. Arielle remembered the nexu shredding her face and crumbling to the bloodied ground as it circled her. She remembered the taste of utter defeat, the raw and unending pain, and the surprisingly tender voice of Ushar above her. He said only one thing.
"Die with dignity."
Arielle had ignored him that day, but it was a phrase that had hounded her everyday since. Ushar may have been a sadist, but in the time since she'd known and hated him, the touturer had carried a respect to those who went to their death with honour.
As she ran, Arielle slid under the swing of his blade and wrenched her blade into Ushar's hip.
He fell to his knees and Arielle wondered if Ushar Ren was content that he had gone to the grave fighting.
She exhaled.
She studied the decapitated body of Ap'lek, the blown-apart Cardo, the hole in Trudgen's neck, the charred Vicrul, the still-steaming Kuruk, and finally Ushar who finally breathed his last.
She wanted to be sick.
Another warm, invisible touch on her shoulders. Even if he was long-gone, Kylo Ren still seemed to anchor her to reality.
Arielle glared in the direction of the Sith throne and raised her stump, pointing into the shadows.
"Show yourself," she said and pulled the coward back into the light.
Palpatine screamed as Arielle plucked him from his machine and dragged him along the platform towards her. He wheezed and coughed and it was a pathetic parasite that lay before her.
"Look how far you've fallen," Arielle said airily as Sidious spluttered onto the ground. There were dark splodges of blood and his fading aura made it clear the former-emperor wasn't much without his life-support.
"Truth is you probably would still be alive if Kylo Ren hadn't shown up," she mused, half to herself now, "I suppose no-one ever expects a Force ghost inquisition. Actually, how did he get to be a Force ghost?"
Palpatine hissed in response and Arielle cringed. "Is that all you can reply with? I wonder if you knew Force ghosts were a thing? It's only available to the light side, which is why I'm wondering why dark and murder-y Kylo got it."
A familiar and faint laugh from nowhere had Arielle smiling sadly "I guess my associates wanted to ensure their job was done properly…" she stood up and pressed her foot to Palpatine's side, rolling him over. His withered face glowered at her hatefully "...which I guess has been done."
Arielle ignited the Skywalker lightsaber. Palpatine thrashed and spat and hacked.
She slammed it down and left it there, the blue blade illuminating the dark stone and corpse upon it..
Then Arielle walked away.
She didn't look back.
Author's notes:
Hi! So we're almost there now with one final chapter to go! I just wanted to say that I'm not going to pretend to be an expert on lightsaber wounds, so apologies for any inaccuracies.