"The place where you made your stand never mattered. Only that you were there... and still on your feet." - Stephen King
19 BBY, Month 5, 2300 Hours Primeday – Jedi Temple, Coruscant.
With his heart clenched into a fist he raced over the fallen bodies blanketing the halls of the temple, easily nine out of ten wearing their distinctive white armour. So paradoxical. The Force called out to him, led him as turned a corner and hurried down the adjoining hall, never slowing his pace as he deflected a dozen laser bolts on his way through, never paying any mind as he cut down the one or two that survived until he got within reach of them. How strange it was that these soldiers never screamed. They fall down though. Everything falls eventually.
This war was a monumentally terrible move. He'd said so from the first, to all who had listened. And yet he could never make a point against Mace Windu when the First Speaker had replied with, "When we're caught between two bad choices, we do only what we can. Nobody can ever ask more." At the time, he was right. We both were. Face a splintered Republic? Or the destruction of what it means to be Jedi? In the end, he, along with the entire Jedi Order, had done what they had always done, done what they were trained to do. They let the Force guide them. And look where that's gotten us. He was trying to hold back his anger at what was happening all around him, trying, and starting to fail under the weight of all that had happened these last few years. And then a wall fell away as the hall became a long balcony overlooking the kitchens. Getting closer.
The room was giant, one of the largest in the entire Ziggurat Pyramid that was the Jedi Temple. Several long tables spanned the floor, each capable of seating hundreds. Throughout the last decades it had never seated so many as it could, and in the last few years it was never more than half filled at any time, though the same could have been said of the entire Jedi Temple, except for today. Today was the exception. And the hearts of men will never allow them to forget this day. As so often happened in recent years, he could not say if the thoughts were his or not.
Today, the tables were all half destroyed and sitting upright on sides or ends or both as the case may be, what was left of the chairs lay all over the place, maybe ten or twelve of them miraculously still in one piece, the kitchen beyond was on fire – he need not see the smoke to know that – and the walls were riddled with black smoke marks and pot-holes from all the various weapons fire available to the intruders. Like the rest of the Jedi Temple, even here, this day, everywhere he looked was scattered with piles of debris hot from the battle and the bodies fallen, never to rise again. But, unlike so many of the other rooms, these long hours after the assault began, the giant room around him was still very much alive with the so familiar shouts and explosions that accompanied the heat and struggle of war.
In the center of the room were twelve – Soon to be eleven – of his brethren standing back to back in a circle, deflecting and dodging hundreds of laser shots that came at them from all directions, all across the expansive room. He needed not even look around to know it. He'd known long before he'd even began his approach, that the struggle for survival still engulfed this room.
As he moved across the high, third level balcony to take out a small cluster of the white-clad soldiers, he saw out of the corner of his eye a pair of rockets streak through the air toward the web of largely blue plasma in the center of the room. One swung in a sharp curve away from the group as he cut the four flesh machines to pieces, and the two rockets exploded at the same moment. One, blowing apart a machine gun nest huddled around rock and marble by a wall, and the other, halted just short of it's target, slamming into a grenade, the fire from the explosion wrapping around the circle of Jedi and obscuring them from view until it dissipated.
This was when he felt their numbers dwindle one less, and his anger welled up more. Looking down at the scene below him, the group of overwhelmed Jedi, and feeling the gigantic force moving throughout the Temple; a slow, calm, methodical extermination, he knew what needed to be done if he was to ever face that, and live. At his feet among the dead were a dozen assault rifles, a pair of heavy machine guns and an automatic rocket-launcher with still a few shots remaining. Using the only judgement available to him at this point, he used the Force to connect with all of it, and as he became one with all the weaponry, he elevated it over the balcony railing and took aim with it across the room at the clusters of executioners scattered along the opposite wall, and he flung himself out into the room. We do, only what we can.
The weapons fire above him covered his drop, but it was the dull-orange glow in his left hand that covered his landing as he took a dozen white armoured killers by surprise. Eradicating them in an orange blur, then allowing the Force to guide him as he leaped across the room, he released all of the not-unfamiliar anger that had built up in him this day. Through the Force he launched tables and body parts, discarded weapons and grenades, and rock and metal from where they lay, while his orange blade sliced white armour – and those who dwelt within – to little more than shreds. It's so easy, the slightest pressure and they fall apart. It should be harder than this. Should be, but isn't. And suddenly, thankfully, just when a smile broke onto his face, the struggle – if it could be called that – was over, just like that.
Looking down at the weapon in his hands, at the pile of two he just turned into five, at feeling the smile on his lips, his hands shook. Just for a moment, then the smile was gone. Close your eyes, quiet your mind. Calm yourself. He did as the Force instructed, took a breath, and calmed, and felt the anger begin to leave him. Seek the peace, look up if you must, to know for certain that she is alive. And so he did. Though the relief had already flooded him before he looked up to see the small, pale face that belonged to his young pupil, Miyuki.
At fifteen standard years, Miyuki was still smaller than most of the common species to which she technically belonged. Not five feet tall with a mop of red hair the colour of rusted metal kept short and close to her face, and those too-large eyes that filled her head once had a kind of soft rascaliness to them, but no more. She had changed these past few years as much as any Jedi had. Almost as much as the Order had adjusted to suit it's new role for the new Republic. She's not a young girl anymore. Ten years back she would've seen too much even for an experienced Jedi Knight. Today, those eyes revealed a heartbroken person, bore the hardness of someone who had seen a lot in their life. She carried the blue plasma lightsaber of the Padawans, and at her wrists and throat where her clothes did not cover, blue symbols marked her skin.
He hung his head, almost unable to look upon his compact Padawan, but his eyes only fell upon the remains of everything he had given himself to, everything he had brought her into. Face the damages of our short-sightedness. The cost of pride and zealotry. And as his orange-tinted plasma retreated from sight, he couldn't help but let out a small, mirthless laugh. In the end, arrogance played no part. I certainly didn't see that coming.
"Master Meyrick." Miyuki said as she approached, flanked by three of the other survivours, all Padawans of varying ages, though none older than she. The other seven hung back, five more Padawans around two Jedi Knights, though even they didn't seem much older this day. No Masters though, there are so few of us left. He could feel only two still alive on Coruscant, the others, with the exception of Yoda, were simply too far away for him to know. "You feel it don't you? The darkness, it's spread. Growing."
"We know who our enemies are. They have stepped forth from the shadows and revealed themselves. That is enough, for now." What can we do? The Force gave him an answer, cryptic as it was. You know what needs to be done. His gaze shifted to his pupil, looking into her too-large, worn old eyes in their too-youthful face and couldn't look away. He did know. He'd seen it. Long ago, he knew he would die this day. So, what will it be?
"So we take the fight to them."
"No." Everyone left alive in that room looked at him right then, confused, disillusioned, and waiting for someone to lead them. He could feel it from each of them, but what disconcerted him was that he could see it plain on all of their faces. These are no Jedi. None of them are ready, none of them are what they need to be. "We gather up what remains, and we leave." Though not all of you will make it.
"We leave?" One of the Knights asked.
"They attacked us!"
"This is where we live. This is the Jedi Temple."
"Where would we go?
"Master Meyrick, are you insane?"
Miyuki, as she so often did of late, remained silent, searching him.
Maybe I am, insanity seems to be infectious these days. "I'm standing in the middle of the crux of Jedi power and learning, surrounded by the fast falling bodies of my brethren, my brothers and sisters."
"Then why do we leave? We should make them pay for every inch of ground they take, for every life they destroy."
I'm not one for speeches, that's Mace, or Aayla, or the Troll. Not me. "We can kill them as they come, as we find them, until we collapse from exhaustion. They will never stop coming. To me, it seems insanity that we should stay."
"So where do we go?"
"The Troll." Blessed little Miyuki. She was too clever, and too powerful by far. If they sought to make a long-awaited comeback in a couple of decades time, to even make an attempt at killing Sidious, they needed Cin Drallig.
He nodded. "He is currently moving toward the north-east corner of the temple, rallying what he can." The Troll and his one-time apprentice. He had come from that direction and knew there wasn't many, if any left when he'd made his way here. I've never felt the emanations from him fluctuate this way. A hard day for even the most calloused of us.
"And what if that... thing comes and finds us?"
Miyuki spoke for him, but they felt more like his own words going through her. "Then you'll get your wish of dying with the rest of us." The last years felt like a lifetime in their own, he never even questioned their mental connection anymore, it was the way it was, and he would never have it any other way. "Anyone else?"
"Masters Windu, Kolar, Fisto and Tiin were murdered at the outset."
"The shift in the Force?"
He nodded. "Their deaths and the dark consuming it's new warrior." Skywalker. He was always on the edge. But so was Mace, and Kolar, and myself. And little Miyuki, if not for Windu and Sifo-Dyas, she would have cost me my life as Jedi. Still almost did. "Shaak Ti is currently distracting him."
"Another fallen Jedi." There was no hint of a question from his pupil. The memories of Dooku and the others like Billaba were still firm in the minds of all Jedi. They weren't the only ones to have fallen to the Dark these last years, but the turn to insanity of a member of the High Jedi Council will always grab the attention, no matter how the Chancellor's grip on the Holo-net tried to hide the truth.
"We need to go, now." He'd made his decision. "You can come with me or go and die on your own. Which will it be?" This war has changed us all. Some more than others. He didn't wait for anyone's response. He just turned and made his way toward the next section of the battlezone. He felt Miyuki immediately on his heels, six others only a step behind her, two moved a moment later. He spared no thought for the last two who did not follow. "Fear will freeze men in place or give them wings. It is the choices we make when it comes to the crunch that reveals a Jedi's true character." Always right, was Master Windu. And now we shall see just what a single man is capable of.
Not alone Master Cahal, never alone. Miyuki loped along beside him, somehow her far shorter legs keeping pace easily. To those flanking them she seemed like a tiny version of her Master. Their heads forward, letting the Force guide them onward. And what of Serra?
Cahal needn't have had the Foresight to know. I wouldn't worry about her. The Troll is still alive, that is all that matters. The Troll's one-time apprentice would be alongside her master; that he had found his way to Miyuki was evidence enough of the bond between a master and apprentice. But even if she wasn't, Serra Keto was a quality fighter in her own right.
Yet, knowing all that he does of her, that doesn't lift the weight on his gut as he leads his small band of Jedi through the Temple. He knew what he needed to do when this day came to pass, knew the fate that awaited six of the nine who jogged alongside him. He had seen the faces of the dead. It didn't alter the fate of Mace though. His old master had been one of the greatest, and had arguably prepared him well for the days that had come to pass. Windu was always the first to declare that they weren't soldiers, yet he was the one who did the molding. All one needed to do was look at Billaba to see that.
Cahal felt an explosion of energy far to the north of them, and right on the back of it the Dark Side, somewhere between applause and a hungry stomach, rumbled and grew. Shaak Ti is dead. He felt the change in Miyuki beside him. She felt it too. But none of them stopped moving. Instead Cahal turned them to his right, towards the sound of laserfire, and raced into the library.
He flew into the back of a cluster of the white troops, orange blade bursting into life and already whirling in his left hand as he cut them to shreds, announcing his presence to the others that were spread out all across the expansive three floors of the library. Dozens turned their attention on them, immediately raising their weapons. Instinctively Cahal darted one way as Miyuki went the other, leaving the rest of them to set up a defensive line where they stood.
Four, spread out thin and getting pinned down. Have to be quick. He swept from aisle to aisle, cutting down the Republic soldiers before they even had a chance to raise their weapons at him. Going up.
I got this. As Cahal leaped from across the room and pushed himself off a pillar Miyuki charged across beneath him, using the Force as she crunched into one of the Holo-cron walls, busting it apart as she blew through to get at a pinned-down Jedi on the other side.
His weapon was an orange globe around him as Cahal landed, dove, rolled and spun across the second floor, covering the others as they followed him up, a couple even going further on to the uppermost floor. Need to wrap this up quickly. Why, he wasn't too sure exactly, to him it seemed as though the force of dark energy was moving away from Cin Drallig. But he urged himself on all the same, working around the floor so he cut down most of the troops on his way to the stairs.
As he reached the top step he sent out a small pulse of energy that crashed into a holo-cron wall, completely shattering it and releasing a blinding flash of light. Not waiting for the flash to clear he raced on, cutting through the line of white troops that was waiting for him, at the same time feeling two of his brethren's light go out.
It's not enough. Whatever I do it's not enough! He slashed his sudden frustration out as he saw his apprentice fly up over the balcony rail and in a blue blur cut a swath through the troops to his left and saved another young Jedi from imminent death. More coming. Oh, I got this. And just as a group of reinforcements came running through the doors from an outside walkway Cahal threw his anger and frustration at them, a sizable wave of energy that sent them all flying back through the doors, across the walkway to ricochet over the rail before they fell.
The Force told him that the last of them were fleeing the library, already planning on setting up defensive positions. But that was only at two exits, and the library had over ten. And reinforcements will be a few minutes at least. Time, there is so little left.
It does not do well to dwell, Master. Miyuki walked up to him as the others did, congregating in a loose circle, two less than they should have been, all but one a Padawan. You've done what you can.
"No I haven't. Not yet." To the confusion of the others he was facing the wall. But Miyuki knew him, felt all that he was. He was staring through the wall. Not at the shadow that swept through the Temple grounds, nor at Cin Drallig still attempting to rally what he could. He'll go down to the end that one.
No, he was looking at the Jedi Council Chamber. It was interesting, feeling Miyuki react to feeling him. Only time would have ever told how far she would go. He looked into her old eyes once more, and he felt her go sad, feeling the conflict raging within him. And now I'll never know, one way or the other.
"Master?" One of the others looked to gain his attention, but at the moment that belonged solely to his apprentice. And she said nothing, as confused as all the others, more so.
It's not easy you know. Now was his time, his choice. It never was, for me. Jumping this way and that as the moment requires me to. Sometimes it's like I'm fumbling in the dark for something, anything. Jedi principle, sometimes so at odds with who I am.
"What do you mean?" The suddenness of her words surprised the others enough, never mind the words themselves.
"The future is the product of the present. But we are the product of our experiences, our past. Both abstract in themselves because the only tangible is the now. And yet, it doesn't change the thought that choice is merely an illusion. On the things that matter, truly, deeply to us, is there ever any real choice? And if there is a clear, definite choice, are we then not who we thought we were?"
"Master Drallig is that way! And that's away from the shadow's warrior!" The others were growing frustrated now, but none of that even came close to pushing away the quiet melancholy emanating from his apprentice, her large eyes awash with sadness. Sweet, little Yuki. "We have to get to him while we can."
"But I have to go that way." Cahal replied, turning his face back toward the Jedi Council Chamber. Always fighting with myself, me versus the Jedi Code. What I know to be right versus what is expected of me. But which is it this time? Does it even matter? He started moving, a step toward the doors leading to the exterior walkway. Did it ever? At the doorway he turned his head toward the others, all calmness once again. "This way."
Only Miyuki moved instantly, the others shared a look amongst themselves before following, hastened by feeling dozens of Republic Army soldiers starting to move toward them. Are you sure about this? Miyuki caught up to him quickly in the black of the night, all of them following his lead and letting the light of their lightsabers disappear.
You should know better than asking me that after all this time. A simple gesture of the Force threw a pair of white armoured soldiers over the rail as Cahal led them on unhindered by the patrol.
"Yes, I should." After which he felt only silence, silence trying to hold back a wave of depression. It won't be easy, but we do what we have to do.
Crap! "Move!" They were not fifty feet away from an opening in the wall, cradling the walkway as it led back inside the Temple when lights and a deep hum announced an LAAT Gunship the moment before it swung around the side of the outer wall, flashlights landing on Cahal and his group not a moment before it unleashed a wave of rocketfire.
As the rockets first landed in front of him he was squeezed against the kids following him so close behind that he instinctively grabbed Miyuki by her clothing and threw her behind himself at them.
As the Gunship tilted to turn their rockets on him he felt a couple of his group try to scatter, only to get pinned in place by the gunship's side turret. Just as a rocket came in at him Cahal turned his hands out to either side, throwing up a net of the Force that a rocket exploded against. Then the second. Then the third. Four, five, six, all slamming into the barrier and creating a wall of fire.
Last one. Just as the Force told him he pushed, throwing the fire back so it engulfed the gunship like water washing across sand. Don't think you get it that easy. He then used the Force to reach into the vehicle, into one of the rocket holding bays, and did something that after so many years had become effortless to him. He detonated the rocket. Just as the gunship pulled out of the wave of flame the entire cockpit seemed to explode.
Cahal stepped forward to the rail to watch the gunship, aflame, go into a tailspin as it hurtled to the ground almost a hundred feet below. He turned back to the kids to see them all staring at him, shocked.
"What did you just do?"
"I couldn't follow any of it."
"And what happened to the gunship?"
"I think it just exploded. But that barrier was amazing!"
Miyuki said nothing. She was more than accustomed to him being able to perform feats that many said should have been beyond him, do things with such minute amounts of Force energy they were barely detectable.
But his eyes had already turned back to the Jedi Council Chamber, and the bastion of dark energy that had begun moving up the tower. He's getting closer.
"Come on." He said to them, stepping into a jog to move on. So little time left. But that in itself was meant to be an odd concept for a Jedi.
