Many thanks to those who are keeping up the steady stream of reviews, they are much appreciated! There is much that is about to happen, and I will not waste words trying to elaborate and simply permit the chapter to speak for itself. please enjoy! ~F
Chapter Thirty
Emperor's Wrath
Veneficus wasted no time in launching into a powerful barrage of attacks. It had been a long time since he used a single blade, let alone one made of metal, but he adjusted in a flash. The heavier weapon arced cleanely through a pattern of attacks that would have washed over and overwhelmed a lesser opponent, but Diábolis was trained by Veneficus himself. The Sith Lord expected no less than perfection as his former apprentice and now rival deflected and parried, seeking an opening to turn the tables.
But this was no mere contest of Master and Apprentice vying for the mantle and mastery of the Sith Order, at least not any longer. Veneficus would destroy the impotent fool for foiling his plans. There would be no mercy from him. The Dark Side flared as a whirlwind around the pair of powerful Force users, and Veneficus recognized that Diábolis wielded a blade similar to his own, etched with Sith runes and powered by the Dark Side around them.
Closing his eyes momentarily mid strike, Veneficus acknowledged that his former servant had surprised him, and brought the one kind of weapon that made them equals in this fight. Still, Veneficus was superior in all aspects of being a Sith, and he would prove to the Devaronian once and for all that none could stand against the Eternal Emperor.
Slashing upward, Veneficus caught Diábolis' blade in a surprise move, and opened the other's torso to attack. Kicking heavily with his armored boot, Veneficus knocked his foe away, clearing space for him to take a hand from the metal sword. Cold bolts of lightning crackled at his command, arcing across the chamber and impacting the sword of his former apprentice.
Diábolis clung for all he was worth, even as the electric arcs shot into his hands and arms, conducted easily through his weapon. Diábolis slammed his blade down and to the side, redirecting the bolts of lightning from Veneficus harmlessly into the ground, and leapt at his former master once more.
The force backing his swing sent Veneficus back a step, and he sensed that this fight could go on for a terribly long time, if not for some important factors. The Dark Side was eating away at him, every second making the Sith Emperor weaker, and Diábolis knew of his dependence on the Elixir of Life. He would do anything and everything in his power to prevent Veneficus from getting even another sip of the life-restoring cordial.
At the same time, the younger combatant had less in reserve for such a drawn battle, and would eventually tire. It was a battle of time, to see who gave out first, and that was not something that Veneficus wished to waste his energy in finding out.
He was going to be forced to use some of his more destructive, and dangerous, skills in the Force that he had horded over the years, in order to end this conflict as swiftly as possible. The gleam of raw malice in his eyes must have registered in Diábolis' mind, as the Devaronian launched into a heavily acrobatic assault then, likely trying to forestall whatever he thought Veneficus had in store for the pair of them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~line break~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ist ran with Director Granger and the other Jedi, even as they heard the howls and vicious sounds of the horde of psychotic creatures behind them. There had indeed been multiple exits from that underground chamber, all leading into the Temple proper, and now the legion of warriors were converging, eliminating anyone and everything in their path as they tried to cleanse the building of intruders.
Two of their number had already fallen, saving them from ambushes and standing to fight alone against the unending numbers that pursued them. The clones, little more than beasts in mind, had fought savagely, ignoring any pain or injury that they were given. Some even threw spells at them, indicating that they were mage-born as well as Dark Adept clones, making them even more dangerous as violently green spells burst around them, slaying one more Jedi without even a mark upon him.
"We need to get back to the Emperor's potion lab!" the director shouted, turning a corner sharply that would lead them back toward the archive, dodging to the left as another of the monstrous warriors smashed through a window, saber in hand and gurgling madly as it sought an opponent. Ist didn't hesitate as she ran past, slashing with both hands on her weapon, and cutting the creature in half through the midsection.
There was no time for elegance in this fight; they needed speed and efficient kills to prevent them from being followed too closely. The Archive; however, turned out to be a trap.
Scores of the creatures were tearing through the place, seeking out anything that moved and killing it ghoulishly. "Quickly, we can seal them out if we get inside," Granger ordered, turning and running along the side of the upper floor, although it was clear her destination was two floors below them.
The sudden movement attracted the attention of the lot, and howling and gnashing their teeth they started to flood up to them, using the Force to leap from the ground floor up to them.
Ist and the remaining Jedi were hard put to keep them away as well as continually moving forward. The fortunate part of this was that the creatures lacked any sort of armor or defenses, and could be thrown about with the Force if needed. There were simple too many.
Another pair of Jedi were taken by surprise, crimson sabers erupting from the floor and dropping the section they stood on into a pit of blackness, where they screamed out as they fought, before being silenced quickly as the horde overwhelmed them.
"We're out of time!" Ist shouted, running at the Director, who was blasting another of the creatures with her wand. Tackling the leader of the Rebellion, the Bothan sent them both over the edge, and in a flash removed a fiberwire grappling hook, throwing it with the Force to aid her as they fell.
It attached to the railing they had just smashed through, going taught and jerking them backward out of their trajectory. They were thrown backward, and landed heavily on the same floor as their intended destination.
The final two Jedi Knights that had followed Ist into the temple leapt down beside them, and flanked them as Ist cleared the way for Hermione to get the door open for them. Only once they were safely inside, despite sporting many light wounds, while the ground outside being littered with corpses of their attackers, the four beings were able to breathe easier. Director Granger waved her wand sharply over the door, layering it in Wild Force abilities to shield the door itself from the blades of the man-like creatures outside.
"That should hold them for a time," the Director said, straightening and putting her wand back in the secret holster in her sleeve.
"But now what?" Ist asked, thinking of the countless beings outside that could be being butchered by the hidden army that the Emperor had secreted inside the Jedi Temple itself.
The Director thought hard, "It'll take too long for reinforcements to arrive, and who knows what orders that mob outside is programmed with…" she said, more to herself than the three remaining Jedi, pacing through the room and occasionally looking at the various objects throughout.
As though to answer her own question, she pulled up a screen on the wall, and typed out a string of commands. The picture changed to viewing the outside of the temple, where the insane creatures were starting to swarm out of the temple, cutting down anything and anyone they encountered.
"What can we do?" one of the other Jedi asked, and Ist saw Director Granger sigh to herself.
"There is one thing." She said, hitting another set of commands, and opening a direct communication channel. "Professor Snape," She said, the seriousness in her voice sending a small chill down Ist's spine, "We have need of your Mage-born toxin."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~line break~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Diábolis felt his strength starting to slip.
Despite all his preparations, he had known that this battle would be the greatest challenge that he ever undertook. The personal strength of the Emperor was vast, and to any lesser opponent would seem overwhelmingly powerful.
It was as though Diábolis alone was capable of seeing Veneficus as the man that he was, let alone actually fighting him on a scale that pushed the Sith Master to his limit.
The weighted blade in his hand thrummed with power; however the style of fighting was something that he had not used for a long time, favoring the twinblade far more than the standard weapon.
Still, he threw every ounce of his strength into the battle, twisting out of the way of the stabbing blade of his former master, before countering attacking with a slash to the old man's head. He had to find a way to turn the tide once more. Ideally, he could sever the final Force ghost attached to the man, but the specter had figured out Diábolis' plan, and was keeping his distance from the combatants.
Which left only one great weak point to Veneficus, and Diábolis knew that if he managed to strike that target, he would literally shatter any hopes that the Emperor had for surviving to rule the Galaxy forever.
Catching the next strike from Veneficus with his own blade, Diábolis twisted his weapon, entangling the cross guards of their swords and pulling the older human toward him. Their weapons locked together, the crafty old Sith tried to blast Diábolis with lightning, but the Devaronian head butted Veneficus in the face, his horned head colliding heavily.
There was a crunching noise as the Sith Lord's nose broke under the sudden attack, and heaving his sword arm up, Diábolis exposed his former Master's chest. But rather than attacking, he groped blindly at the robes that the Emperor wore; using the Force to seek for the item he needed to achieve total victory over Veneficus.
The Emperor howled in rage, and a massive burst of Force energy threw Diábolis away, shattering his shield that typically protected him from such telekinetic attacks. Nevertheless, he held up his prize for Veneficus to see through the blood gushing from the human's face.
The blood red stone, the source of the Emperor's precious life-sustaining liquid, felt oddly warm in Diábolis' hand. He knew he could never use such an object, and through the Force he could tell that the object could not be destroyed by conventional means.
"No!" the Emperor screamed, as Diábolis did the only thing that came to mind, and crammed the stone into his own mouth. The warm object passed quite easily down his throat, and seemed to vanish completely rather than reach his stomach.
A flash of light caused him to look up, and he completely forgot about what had just occurred. Veneficus had both hands cupped close together, and between them Diábolis saw raw Force energy collecting. It had to be one of the ancient, arcane arts of the Dark Side, and seemed that the old Sorcerer was turning the Force itself into a weapon.
Diábolis did not want to know what might happen if the rapidly growing orb of Force power struck him, and dashed to the side, moving as quickly as he could to avoid the pulsating orb of power as Veneficus hurled it at him.
Something within him seemed to push Diábolis to greater heights of strength and speed, and still he narrowly avoided the orb as it rushed through the air with the crackle of charged energy. It struck the weather-worn statue of a Jedi, and obliterated it utterly. Something about that ability made Diábolis' skin crawl, and he knew that he could not allow Veneficus to use it again.
He turned, and to his intense shock and horror the Emperor had teleported toward him, and Diábolis hissed as the cold metal blade of Veneficus pierced him, driving deeply into his torso. The hideous face of the Sith Master glowered down at him, contorted with rage and sparked with Dark Side energy.
And yet, despite the quite clear fatal location of the blade in his chest, Diábolis did not feel his life leaving him. It certain pained him, and that pain was changing into anger, rage, and therefore power. Not knowing what exactly was preventing him from the release of death, Diábolis took advantage of the boon, and lashed out with his own blade, striking at the Emperor's hand as the man pulled back to use the Force on him at such a close range. Following up the attack, the Devaronian pulled out his last trump card. A vial of dark liquid that easily splashed into the face of the Emperor, fuming and burning the flesh of the man as it hit him like acid.
The Emperor howled in surprise and agony, even as his left hand separated completely from his body, and his face started to melt like wax. The man fell back, releasing the handle of the sword in Diábolis' chest, and the Devaronian rose to his feet.
"How is this possible?" Diábolis demanded, wrenching the blade from himself, and seeing in amazement and horror as the wound sealed itself shut.
"You fool!" the Emperor raged, sputtering at the poison on his face, with one arm now useless, "You utter fool! You've ruined us both!"
"No, just you…" Diábolis retorted, grasping both Sith Swords and turned their blades on his old Master. The man drew one of his pair of weapons, spinning out of the way of the heavy metal weapons, and dancing backward.
Veneficus looked up at him, and Diábolis sensed the plan forming in the other Sith's demented mind, even with one eye now milky white and thoroughly blinded. Veneficus was planning to escape. The battle had already taken its toll on him, and with his advantages destroyed he would not face Diábolis in a fair fight.
Although, thinking of what had just occurred, perhaps it was not so fair. Still, he would not allow the man to escape, at least not without more than his share of wounds for all the lives he had destroyed, namely Diábolis' own.
The Devaronian leapt at the human, but Veneficus was prepared, and a torrential wave of telekinesis threw the other Darksider back. Diábolis crashed heavily into the rubble of the obliterated statue, and he was dazed for a mere moment. Unfortunately, that did not stop Veneficus from cracking the ceiling supports, and sending boulders and rubble down on the Devaronian in a tidal flood of rock and sand.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~line break~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Severus stood in silence as he processed what Ms. Granger was asking of him. It was clear that she had survived her captivity, and with the handful of Jedi at her side, they had clearly registered the message she had sent correctly. But this…
"You know the risks of that particular substance." Severus said, "We cannot allow such a thing to happen, it will kill everyone and everything."
"Only those with the genetics of a mage-born," Granger retorted, and Severus sucked in a breath. Did she know what she was suggesting?
"I cannot allow you to sacrifice yourself in such a manner," he replied, "we will find another way…"
"There is none!" Hermione shouted, opening up a smaller screen for Severus to see, "the Emperor's secret army is already surging out across Coruscant, killing everyone in their path. They are clones of Zabini, and will die just as readily if we can distribute the toxin across the planet. Without more hosts it will die, and everyone else will be immune."
"Everyone but you," Severus clarified, "If you do this, you will die."
He already suspected exactly how she wanted to get the toxin across the planet. Transforming the liquid into a gas and spreading it like a cloud across the atmosphere would do precisely what she desired, but as it was a contact poison, it would not matter what protective gear she had available, barring a fully insolated flight suit or something similar. Granger was prepared for quite a number of things, but not this.
"I will not allow the Emperor to steal this victory from us," Hermione demanded, "We cannot allow the innocent to die while we wait for rescue. If we can stop this madness now, I must do this.
"At least get yourself to safety first." Severus said, "You cannot even get it on your skin, or it will start its work of killing all your cells."
"I understand the risks, and I have made my choice," Granger said sternly, the fire of her brilliant mind gushing from her eyes, "Now give me the formula!"
Severus hesitated, looking between the concerned Jedi behind her, the fiery passion of the rebel leader, and the chaos that was on the other screen, raging through the street of Coruscant.
Dropping his head slightly, he started recounting the ingredient and instructions for making his mage-born toxin. They had hoped to never use such a weapon, or at least save it for the Emperor himself, but clearly the times had changed, and events had thrust them into the direst of situations.
"Thank you Severus," Granger said when he had finished, and she took off around what seemed to be the most stocked potions lab that Severus had ever seen, not even bothering to close the communication.
"Professor," one of the Jedi said, and Severus recognized Ist the Bothan, "What can we do to help?"
"Protect her," Severus instructed, "even from herself…"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~line break~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Veneficus sagged, the weight of his body suddenly dragging him down. He groaned, not wanting to even consider the amount of damage his face had taken from the sudden attack from the acid. His right eye was completely blind, and his left hand was gone. The ritual was disrupted for good, and three of the ancient Sith spirits had been forcefully separated from him.
Everything he had carefully planned was in ruins. Without the Philosopher's Stone, he could not regenerate his body anymore, and that set a dangerously short timer on his lifespan. Glancing through his one good eye at the pile of rubble that covered his former apprentice, Veneficus grit his teeth. If the Devaronian wasn't dead, he would be soon enough, either from being crushed and pinned, or else the Stone he had consumed would slowly poison him. It was the same problem that Veneficus himself had faced. While it elongated life, too much of the Elixir of Life would simply kill the consumer.
In one fell swoop, Diábolis had successfully placed the sword of destruction at the neck of the Sith Order. If Veneficus did not act swiftly, they would become extinct altogether. He convulsed as a racking cough rumbled through his chest, and Veneficus turned to see the blood that had come from within him to splatter the stone.
Something was not right. Stumbling forward, Veneficus started for the exit of the valley. He had to get medical supplies and figure out what was accelerating the decay of his body. After that, there was a great deal of planning that needed to happen. Veneficus was desperate now; he had to survive for the totality of the Sith Order to carry on into the future.
If Diábolis had failed him so perfectly, then the Sith Master needed to find a new apprentice, take control of a new host and carry on as the Sith had before him. The Rule of Two needed to be reintroduced. An heir had to be acquired for the knowledge that Veneficus possessed, and trained quickly.
Returning slowly to the shuttle, his legs growing weak from whatever it was in his system, the Emperor called upon the Dark Side to slow the progress of the poison killing him. His concentration on preserving himself lasted until he was in orbit, and sank slowly into a Bacta tank, allowing the warm healing liquid to slowly mend what little it could, as well a purge some of the deadly toxin from him.
As he floated in the sensory deprivation chamber that constrained the liquid, Veneficus allowed his mind to wander. This was the single greatest defeat he had ever sustained, and he wasn't sure how exactly to process it. Anger, naturally, but there was something akin to pride mixed in. it was almost as though he had wanted Diábolis to rise to the challenge and defeat him.
Still, the fool had not killed him, and therefore had nothing to him except to pursue Veneficus and finish the duel that they had started. That was of course if he survived, although the Emperor was more than certain of the Devaronian's survival. The stone he had consumed would see to that.
Turning his mind inward, Veneficus examined the toxin that was still coursing through his system. It seemed to have been specifically tailored to attack and kill someone like himself. The toxin would invade each and ever cell, destroying the Midiclorians and deserting the rest of the cell. Of course without the life sustaining part of the cells, they too would die in the wake of the rampaging, and growing, substance.
'Trust Granger to allow something as deadly and destructive as this fall into the wrong hands,' he mused silently, fuming as he floated in the tank. He had foreseen that she would release something like this substance over Coruscant, in order to protect the planet from his return, but he had failed to see that his former apprentice would acquire some of it and use it on Veneficus himself.
That was something that puzzled him greatly, and Veneficus mused over his lack of vision regarding the other trained Sith as he emerged from the milky healing matter. Diábolis had learned to move slow and cautiously, evading even the detection through the Force of someone as strong and powerfully gifted as Veneficus.
Under other circumstances it would be commendable, but Veneficus had a hard time imagining anything positive for the being that had hurt him so deeply. There was one ritual that could restore him to a semblance of his former self, but it came with a very difficult challenge.
Such a ritual required a master of both the Light and the Dark Sides of the Force to participate. Veneficus had accepted a long time ago that he himself could not and would never wield the Light in his present body, being so completely devoted to the Dark, but there might be another way for him to achieve the same outcome.
The problem was that he needed to check the source before he moved forward with his plan. And that required traveling to an ancient tomb whose world Veneficus had barred from the Galaxy knowing anything about.
Luckily, it was on the way to his final destination, and therefore he would be taking as minimal time as possible to reach the location of his desired new host.
As the ship sailed through Hyperspace, Veneficus started to notice small deficiencies in his body erupting, most prominently a trembling in his remaining hand that threatened to prevent him from so much as lifting small objects without threat of his hand opening involuntarily and dropping them.
It was an insult above all others, and Veneficus was angered even more by the fact that he was now forced to use the Force just to get by, and the use of the Force would accelerate killing him because of his cells degrading from the extended use of the Dark Side.
"So, now that you're plan has failed, you will turn to an even riskier road…" a voice said behind him.
Veneficus whirled, sneering as the shade of his old Master appeared. Of course it would be Millennial alone that remained with him. "I do not need or desire your judgment or ridicule, Millennial," Veneficus seethed, "I have gone far beyond all that you hoped to accomplish, and I will not die without a fight to keep pushing beyond even all that I have achieved."
"I know you have, even as I had foreseen throughout the time I spent training you," Millennial replied, "But even you must accept, now, that you are stretching for something that cannot happen. Your obsession on keeping your form, this body which is now so thoroughly damaged, has distracted you from the greater calling of subjecting all beings under the rule of the Dark Side…"
"My goal was within my grasp!" Veneficus shouted, energy crackling off of him in anger at the Force ghost and his needling, "I would have achieved the greatest goal of any Sith Lord in history."
"And yet your isolation and rejection of your apprentice caused your downfall, and now the Sith Order is threatened with extinction…" Millennial said, the scathing words magnified by the benign voice that the Sith spirit used. "It is time to put aside your own desires, and refocus on stabilizing the Order. The Jedi are not gone, you know this, and yet you have stopped in the attempt to eradicate them from the Galaxy."
"Yes…" Veneficus said, acknowledging his failing in the complete purpose of the Sith, "Once I am renewed, the Jedi will be destroyed, and their rebellion along with them."
It was time for him to cease hiding in the shadows. Once he discovered the means to stop this poison long enough to seek a suitable host for his great spirit, the Sith Emperor would descend upon the hidden planets of the rebellion and destroy them utterly. No more armies, no more fleets and technology. Through the power of the Dark Side alone he would accomplish all these things.
But first, he had to understand his options with this ritual, and as the shuttle exited Hyperspace over a remote world, little more than an asteroid with an atmosphere, Veneficus felt that he was close to the answer at last.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~line break~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hermione was amazed that most of the ingredients that were needed for the poison was already located in the Emperor's lab. She had honestly expected something elaborate or rare from such a powerful concoction, but Severus had explained that he had worked long and hard to perfect the formula to incorporate the very base of materials.
With a stone cauldron simmering in the center of the room, Hermione stood over the boiling liquid, waiting to add the final ingredient: a sample of Mage-born blood, to prepare the liquid version of the powerful poison.
"What shall we do once it's ready?" Ist asked, standing closer to the door with the remaining Jedi. The howling and banging on the other side was heavily muted by Hermione's spells, which she had had to refresh periodically to prevent the insane clones of Zabini from getting in.
"We need to deliver the poison to a ventilation port for the temple, where I can cause the chain reaction to turn the poison into a gas and duplicate it, allowing it to be ejected into the atmosphere and rain down over the planet." Hermione explained quietly.
She was concentrating carefully on the liquid before her, waiting for it to turn so that she could add her blood. That would stabilize the poison for the trip to the nearest maintenance access, which luckily was in the archive, although down a floor and likely blocked to them by a multitude of waiting Zabini clones.
"We can use some of it to purge those in our way, and clear your route with the main body of the poison," Ist suggested, and Hermione nodded. The poison changed, turning red and she quickly made a cut on her hand, squeezing as much of her own blood into the cauldron as she could. It bubbled and fizzled, changing the liquid to a sickening orange color, and Hermione closed the wound with her wand.
"It's ready," she said, pulling out vials from her coat and picking up a large ladle from the nearby work station. It was eerie that everything had been so thoroughly prepared for them, and Hermione feared that this too was part of the Emperor's plan. The first six vials were given to the Jedi, two each, to use on those waiting in the archive. Hermione would wait for the all clear before emerging herself with the remainder. She could not risk dying before they got the poison to the ventilation and transformed it, as her magic was required to multiply the gas once it was transfigured.
"I'm unsealing the door, be ready, try to splash as many as you can, the poison only needs skin contact to start working," she explained, slowly pulling away the wards over the door.
"Yes, Director," Ist replied, saber in hand and a vial in the other.
"For the Republic…" Hermione said solemnly, and flicked her wand at the door. The final seal, as well as the door's locking mechanism sprang open, and the horde of savage-looking mage-born greeted them.
The Jedi took no hesitation before flinging the first volley of three vials into the horde, rupturing them with the Force and spreading as much of the toxin as possible. The reaction was immediate. The front line of clones suddenly collapsed, shrieking as the poison started to eat away at their cells, magic wafting away from them free as contact poison started to destabilize their already unstable bodies.
With that initial attack, they were able to push through, even as the door sealed behind them. Hermione watched as the three Jedi tore through the reeling crowd of clones, those not splashed with the remainder of the posion cut down with their blades as they attempted to retreat. It was curious to see that the clones still felt and acted on fear, extremely unlike the Imperial Royal guards that had hardened their emotions and were immovable when confronted.
"Director!" a voice came over her communicator, and Hermione quickly brought up the channel on the screen, trusting that the Jedi would succeed without her guidance, "Admiral Weasley," she said, her heart surging. While Ron had been an annoyance in their younger days, it was emboldening for her to see that other mage-born had come to help in the liberation of Coruscant.
"The Imperial command fleet is coming, our sensors are going crazy," the graying red-head said, looking tense.
Hermione understood why instantly. The Terrasque, the massive super-ship that dwarfed anything created in the Neo-Sith wars. If that world devastating cruiser entered orbit, their entire liberation would fall apart.
"Is there anything you can do to stop them?" Hermione asked quickly, knowing that there was a touch of panic in her voice.
"We can delay them from trying to confront the planet, but I wouldn't hold your breath for us stopping them completely." Ron replied, looking grim.
"Do what you can, we need time to save the populace from the emperor's contingency plan," Hermione said quickly.
"I heard from Professor Snape…" the admiral said, "It has been an honor serving under you, Hermione… and for the record, I wish I had been kinder to you when we were kids…"
"Thank you," Hermione said, turning as there was asharp knock on the metal door that sealed her away from the rest of the Archive. That was the signal that all was clear for her to transport the poison.
"Commander Flitwick will be here soon, we will hold out as long as we can," Ronald said, saluting once again, "good luck."
"And to you as well," Hermione replied, closing the communication and carefully shifting the cauldron with her magic to the door.
It hissed open and Ist was waiting there, looking tired yet unharmed.
"We have several minutes before more of them arrive, I think. We better move quickly to get this done before the others converge on our location." She said.
Hermione nodded, keeping a fair distance from the floating cauldron as it bobbed along at her silent commands. The nearest access point to the ventilation system was one floor down and on the other side of the archive. Getting to the stairs was simple enough, but as they started to descend, Ist paused, looking upward through the ceiling.
"Something just entered the system," she said, sounding concerned.
"It's the Terrasque," Hermione said, "Admiral Weasley will delay them as long as he can, and Professor Flitwick with the rest of our forces are on their way."
"But can we hold out long enough with that threat literally looming over us?" Ist asked.
Hermione didn't answer, focusing on making the cauldron float as carefully as possible. The poison wasn't volatile, but she treated is as such regardless. Above them, there was a shout of warning, and the clash of sabers.
"They're coming," Ist said, drawing her weapon, but keeping the blade off for some semblance of stealth, "we need to hurry."
Hermione nodded. The ventilation system chamber was close, and once inside they could barricade themselves inside. A pair of clones appeared at the other end from the chamber from them, snarling and wide eyed. The other remaining Jedi leapt between the two groups, brandishing the green saber threateningly, trying to draw the clones' attention away from Hermione and the cauldron of their doom.
"Nearly there," she said to herself, urging the cauldron onward without bumping or tilting the container. The door was open for her, and she slipped inside before the cauldron, urging it in as fast as she dared. Ist slipped in behind, and the door slammed shut. Once the cauldron was settled on a nearby table, Hermione had wards and spells flowing out of her wand, sealing them inside.
From the other side, the clash of sabers and howls of agony told her that the other two Jedi were battling for their lives to prevent the clones from advancing on the door.
"We must move quickly," Ist said, ripping a panel that covered the ventilation ducts from outside exposure.
Hermione floated the cauldron over and poured the poison into the system. As she had feared, there was no protective gear whatsoever in the room, leaving her direly exposed for when the liquid was changed into a gas. "It has been a pleasure to work alongside the Jedi Order for so long," she said to Ist, fighting back tears as she knew her eventual end.
"Is there no other way?" Ist asked, and Hermione heard the desperation in the Jedi's voice.
"I'm afraid not," she confirmed, and twisted her wand, allowing the empty cauldron to drop with a heavy clang as she started transfiguring the poison into a gas, as well as multiplying it, forcing the new toxic gas through the ventilation system with great force. Ist and the other Jedi would be immune, but those with the capability of magic would die. Hermione trusted that Severus had more than perfected his creation.
Because of the nature of the gas, even with a powerful shield charm over the container, the toxin started to eat away at the magic keeping it out of the chamber that Hermione was in, and she could not stop the process to pump the gas out of the system in order to refresh her shield. If she stopped, the pressure would be lost and she would have to start again multiplying the gas, if it didn't all dissipate before she recommenced.
Glancing up at the monitor after a few minutes of working, Hermione was at least pleased to note that the gas was starting to pour out of the other temple vents, and the remaining clones throughout the building were collapsing as they came into contact with the various clouds of poison.
But it wasn't enough. Quickly typing out on the nearby console with her free hand, the other maintain a solid grip on her wand and chanting the spells over and over, Hermione took command of the ventilation, closing as many vents as she could in order to funnel the gas out to the top of the temple, pressure building all along the way. The one downside was the added pressure worked in both directions, pushing back on the open vent where Hermione was forcing the gas into the system from.
Hermione kept working furiously, only growing slightly worried when the haze of poison started to slip around her shield. But she couldn't allow herself to be distracted by the smallest trickle of the gas. She shifted slightly to be away from where the gas was entering the room, even though Ist was there. The Jedi used the Force to add a layer around her shield where the gas congregated. A true feat a of precision and control for the non magic-user, and Hermione nodded in thanks, before focusing all her attention of her task
"Almost there," she said, sensing more that seeing the reading for the built pressure in the temple's ventilation system. Critical mass was approaching quickly, and Hermione knew that the pressure would be sufficient to blast enough of the gas into the local air, and shower it across the area where the clones were trying to expand.
But at the same time, her shield would not be able to handle the blowback, even with Ist's help. Praying to whatever being existed out in the great unknown for a peaceful passing, Hermione twisted her wand, accelerating her spells and triggering the critical mass of gas filling the vents.
From the view screen, she spotted the small trickle out of the uppermost vents of the temple change to a streaming pool of gas, and finally become a violent torrent, blasting the vent off altogether. Knowing that now was the moment to detonate a chain reaction that would throw as much as possible; she whispered her spell, "Engorgio."