"We stumble and fall even when we are most enlightened. But when we are in true spiritual darkness, we do not even know that we have fallen." - Thomas Merten
21 BBY, Month 1, 1340 Hours Benduday – High Orbit Over Astillia
The light of the red sun cast a shadow behind Big Green that fell across what remained of the Resilient as it dropped out of hyperspace. The Carrack-class light cruiser had several gaping holes in it's hull, held together by what seemed to be little more than scrap and spare parts, indeed, Cahal Meyrick had remarked on the absurdity of how their engines had remained completely untouched during their escape through the Ado Sector into the StarForge Nebula.
He could also feel the strain his Padawn had undergone beside him as they had held the ship together practically by themselves or risk the boat being completely ripped apart due to the stresses of travelling at light speed. It's not as though StarForge Station was completely unbecoming though. We got what we could with what we had. He wasn't sure if he would ever truly be fully comfortable with his enhanced telepathic connection with his apprentice, but it did have it's uses. Not even the Jedi Council could argue that.
Small victories Master. They both released the Force and Cahal followed Miyuki to the patched together window. Still, we got back. It's almost like a home away from home. The Resilient swung around the larger of the twin planetoids, earning it's colloquial name because it was slightly larger than it's twin, and that it's atmosphere was a swirling mass of greens. It's brother, coming into their view had a deep blue atmosphere that was covered in yellow-orange cloud systems.
And though the two planets under their red sun was a beautiful sight on their own, earning the amazement of many in the galaxy, that wasn't why the fond relief filled them both. Between the planets, sitting in the orbit of both was a creative marvel as wonderful as the planets of it's creators itself. The gravity wells of the Twins each pulled at the atmosphere of the other, causing large swathes of blue and green and orange to be stretched across the intervening space, creating flowing clouds that swirled between, almost cloaking that which sat equidistant; the Astillean Gateway.
Wedged between the Bestine and Devron sectors, Astillia was technically a part of the Colonies ring of the galaxy, but it's true importance was that it lay right on top of the Corellian Trade Spine; the Hyperspace Lane that ran from the Core Worlds, through Duro before reaching Astillia, then on to Yag'Dhul before branching off across the Outer Rim. And with the StarForge Nebula proving as tricky as ever that means the Confederacy has to come through here, if they don't want to spend months sneaking around half the galaxy. Which hasn't been their style so far.
Having such an important position on the trade routes Astillia had been under pressure from the Trade Federation for generations now, but the mighty overgrown conglomerate still did not dare attempt to outright take over the system. No one had tried that for well over two hundred years, and they hadn't been successfully invaded for the better part of a millennium. Not bad for a system regarded for it's cultural significance to artistry and philosophy with only a tiny military. The system had been home to the many of the greatest, most creatively astute people in the entire galaxy. And those people had conceived, and constructed the Astillean Gateway.
The Gateway was an incredibly large space station that was kept in a constant state of evolution by it's creators. To any normal naked eye it seemed as though the two planets circled around the Gateway, but in truth it required infallible finesse and imagination to get the structure to also orbit the Twins, so unsteady is the rolling link of the two planets. When the Gateway retained it's place between the Twins; the prime defensive position as anyone who wanted to assault the system, had to take the station into account, a position which was easily able to coordinate either defence or attack. Though it was never pinned in that position, it could and frequently was moved; in peacetime.
But not anymore. Do you think that can hold?
They always have. But if the build up they had scouted was anything to go by, they wouldn't exactly be able to stop a Confederate assault if they chose to just move on by. But that in itself would present a problem in them getting back out.
Somethings happening. I know. He could feel it too as the Resilient touched down in the Second Hanger Deck of the Astillean Gateway. They weren't alone. But that's not all. He felt a darkness descending over them, more immediate that the war itself. I feel it too, Master.
But he and Miyuki weren't the only ones with low hanging heads as they stepped off the spacecraft. Being chased across a dozen systems and forced to hide for almost a full week on the edge of the galaxy wouldn't do much for even the best men's morale, and the feeling was palpable as they left the hanger, the machines already getting to work analyzing the damage behind them.
Not a word was said as they crossed the hanger deck, the troop's tense exhaustion obvious to only a cursory glance. A sign that the men were at least somewhat human, but he was still to be convinced that they were little more than machines. Give it time Master, as of now, they aren't much more than children. Conceptually, that in itself is horrifying. When they reached the doors, the large steel barrier opened to reveal a black-haired, pixie-ish woman who was a only few years younger than himself. When she saw them her face showed a soft, fond smile.
"Serra."
"Hello Yuki. Master Meyrick." He found himself not liking how she said that at all. She'd never before even given an implication of deference to him. But that was before I was bestowed Mastery.
The three of them stood there in silence while the Republic Troops stepped by, until it was broken by Miyuki as she walked away from them. "He dislikes it when you call him that. He's just too uncomfortable right now to say so."
They were alone for a moment before Serra smiled at him, saying, "Is that true?"
"No, no." The lie was obvious even to himself. "Okay, a little bit."
"Okay. Colonel." And she nodded her head as she turned, leading him down the hallway, Miyuki a few steps ahead. "I haven't seen you in a while."
"We all have our own assignments. How long were you back on Coruscant before they sent you off again?"
"Only a day this time. We got a message from the Astillean High Command that Qymaen jai Sheelal had surrendered himself to them – and to us. So Master Windu commanded that Master Praet Mandinar come and acquire him."
The Kaleesh warrior turned Separatist military commander? "Who else came?"
"Just Agen and myself. Master Mundi thought it safe to have skilled swordsman as at hand, but also that it was prudent to not overwhelm him and present a threatening front."
"Wise. But I cannot say I support it."
"Nor do I. But he requested us, saying that we're the only ones who could ever understand, and maybe undo, what has been done to him."
"Have you spoken with him?"
"Agen and Mandinar are doing so now." Yuki. I'm going. The girl picked up her pace as she deviated off into another direction ahead of them. Serra saw this and looked from the girl to him. "I heard about, what happened."
"And what did they tell you?"
"That you did something that everyone had thought impossible. That you showed great courage and insight in the face of darkness, both from outside and within. That you solved a problem by reshaping the question."
He smiled. "That last one was Cin Drallig, wasn't it?"
"Well, he always was fond of you. 'The cleverest Jedi he never taught'."
"And the others, what are their overall thoughts?"
She hesitated a moment, understanding what he meant. "They find it troublesome."
"Figured as much."
"It's something new. Something they either thought couldn't be done or never entered the realm of possibility. Even Master Yoda thinks it's odd. And when was the last time he reacted to anything that happened with something other than it's the way of the Force?"
"And they made me a Master for it nonetheless."
"How could they not? Just because one doesn't understand something doesn't mean it should be disrespected or shunned." Immediately she looked up at him, her green eyes meeting his for a moment, each conveying a shared sadness before they looked down and forward at the same time.
Silence enveloped them then, trained as they were not even their feet making noise as they stepped down the hall. And yet, even in the silence he felt comforted, Serra's mere presence making him feel more at ease than he had in a long time. He barely got to see her at all anymore, when he was home she wasn't, and vice-versa. It seemed always the case that when one wasn't on a mission the other was.
He wasn't a fool, he knew it was structured that way. That they were being kept apart. It happened so often, that when added to the way the High Council Members treated it as incidental it was almost pathetically obvious. But the only difference it made to Cahal was that it was probably a little easier at times. Though his fears and worries kept him in check anyway. When you can see the future, you are a inevitably a slave to it. And whether you want it to happen or not, something always will.
"How are the dreams?"
Worse all the time. "They're fine." Though the difference when I do know what they mean is minimal. After a moment he met her eyes, and uncomfortably turned back away. "Really."
"Colonel?"
"Some bad, some good. Death, despair, you know. The usual." She turned away, thankfully she not pushing it. She knows me well enough to see that it is bad. "Where are we going?" He suddenly realised they weren't headed to the others.
"The Gateway has been having a few computer troubles that have been increasing in the last hour. Master Mandinar thought I could take a look when you showed up." He felt himself smile, he couldn't help it. Just tell her. You leave it alone and focus on Sheelal. When they were at this distance it just made it even more weird. Yet, through the connection, as his apprentice laid eyes on the Separatist commander so did he.
"What is he like?" he asked as they stepped into one of the control systems centers.
"Sheelal?" Serra spoke as she stepped over to check the orbit and flight systems. Cahal checked the life support first. Being a secondary command center there were only a couple of people around, only there for the same reason they were. "He seems sincere enough. A sad creature, his remains encased in machinery."
He saw it. And indeed, there didn't seem to be much that remained of the great Kaleesh warrior; just the inside of his skull and chest stuffed into a durosteel exoskeleton. But they'd been told as much before. We'd also been told he was intimidating, a giant seemingly made to hunt Jedi, all rage and hate as he toyed with his opponents before killing them. But the creature that sat on the floor cross-legged with hunched shoulders across from Jedi Master Praet Mandinar seemed collected and sad. I even feel it Master, as strong as anything, filling the room to bursting. If he truly is so, how does he hold it in?
"What do you think though?"
"I don't know. I sort of, expected more of him."
"I know what you mean." There was a slight fluctuation in the life support system, but nothing out of the ordinary. He moved over to check the shields and door systems.
"My transport was shot down. There was heat, and fire, and then nothing. I don't remember anything after that before waking up in a Techo Union Space Station serving as a depot, where I was immediately presented to Count Dooku as a tool to serve him."
"A tool?"
"What else would you call it? I certainly felt a... compulsion to obey."
Is that really possible Master? I don't know. Miyuki stood next to Agen Kolar. Her and the Zabrak Master watching Master Mandinar's interrogation of the Separatist General through a glass window as tough as the durosteel walls of the chamber.
"The flight systems are all normal, and are able to keep to the orbit equation without the orbital system."
"Is there a problem with it?"
"If they find any fluctuations with it the Astilleans shut it off so they can run diagnostics." Something about that bugged him.
"In my resurrection they had installed electro-drivers in my brain. They were telling me to obey, to enjoy."
"And you didn't?"
"I'm a soldier, not a monster. I may have contempt for the Jedi and the Republic for the bureaucratic crap that forced my homeworld into fight after fight after fight. But to disrespect you when Dooku and his puppets have done this to me..."
"And?"
"The Gateway was groaning under the stresses of the multiple gravitational pulls when we landed. Which meant a problem."
"And they still haven't found it?"
"No, but the flight systems are still good."
"They have respect for nothing and seek only to destroy and inflict pain and suffering wherever they go. I don't even think Dooku believes in the cause he preaches for."
"How do you mean?"
"Well, every command he's given, despite what he says, wouldn't do much to help bring about an end to this war, not a swift one anyway. No, Dooku seems to be laying the foundation for a long war, and that kind of war, that is something the Outer Rim and their conglomerates will never win. They need to strike at the Core Worlds and destroy the manufacturing facilities, Duro and Corellia must be destroyed if they even want a chance at winning this war."
"And Dooku doesn't seem to care?"
"Not in the slightest. His interest seems to be in increasing his control over as many of the outlying systems as possible. Systems with nothing to gain by joining him, and with nothing to offer his already sizable army."
"The hyper-routes."
"What?" Serra looked over at him.
"Dooku is trying to gain entry to the hyper-routes the conglomerates didn't know about. Or have control over."
"Yuki?" He nodded. "Would explain the continuing fascination with StarForge. So he's looking for a way to get into the Core Worlds without risk?"
"Maybe." Something about the shield systems was bothering him. Another slight fluctuation, nothing out of normal range, but still there. "There was a Confederate Fleet massing at Indupar. But it wasn't enough to threaten even this place. It could never punch through and do damage by istelf."
"And given the extra week you were in the StarForge?"
"It's hard to say." Especially with the Yag'Dhul Shipyards so close, they could have moved there with ease and continued massing. There was something about that energy fluctuation. Or they could have been massing for a move into the Nebula for the Ado Spine. No, that's unlikely, StarForge Station is at least as tough to crack as Astillia. But this fluctuation. There was nothing unusual about it, nothing at all when you're running diagnostics.
"Do you know where he will attack next?"
"I am afraid not, no. The man is ruled by the moment, changing decisions on a whim, and only telling me to do something when he wanted it done."
"Little more than a tool."
"So it seemed. But they underestimated Qymaen jai Sheelal."
"I was under the impression that you discarded that name."
The creature tipped it's head back and let out a raspy, metallic laugh that echoed in the steel chamber. That is just unnervingly unnatural.
"Ridiculous is it not? That the most feared Kaleesh warrior of his generation needs a new name. Another of Dooku's ideas, plainly spelling out; 'Fear This.' when instead my name had already earned such in my enemies."
"Did you see that?"
"See what?" He raised his head to see that Serra was at the weapons systems.
"It's that fluctuation again. Only this time... I don't know. Almost like a scan, or maybe..."
I am such an idiot! What did you do now? "It's an exercise."
"But wouldn't that drain more power?"
"Not really. Scan the system and then stretch it one muscle at a time. Collectively yes, but just gently and slowly to keep it at low power."
"That would take an extravagant amount of time."
"Depends."
"On what?"
"On what you were after. It would appear as little more than a diagnostic while a new command system tapped in." He stopped what he was doing, staring at another fluctuation reading, and instead used the Force to reach into the systems, a strand as fine as hair penetrating the encasing matter and flowing across the electronics like water, feeling everything, searching for anything. Non-Jedi tech can be so primitive.
It was easy to identify, so different, insect-like standing on a flower. The hair wrapped around it and pulled it out of one of the cooling vents. Holding it still above his hand he could barely see it; it was so tiny, something that should have no chance to survive against something as large and powerful as a box let alone a life-form such as himself. So tiny, so innocuous. It looked up at him, a tiny machine that resembled a tiny life-form.
Wrapped in the Force, he felt when it sent out a signal.
"Well, Jedi Master Mandinar, it seems our time has come to a premature end."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Master, what's happening?
"It means that I am required to leave soon." I think I did something bad. Miyuki watched on as Qymaen jai Sheelal rose up on his feet, stretching to his full eight foot tall height, and she finally understood why Master Mundi had found him intimidating. "A little before time, I know, but I have allowed for such a possibility." Cahal watched through Miyuki's eyes as the giant cyborg launched himself at Praet Mandinar, machine hands and feet grabbing the Jedi Master, pinning him to the floor.
Beside Miyuki Agen Kolar already had his red lightsaber out and was cutting at the window to get through and help. As he took off Cahal crushed the tiny machine with so little effort it was almost saddening, when in the halls he felt Serra only a couple of steps behind as alarms echoed all across the Astillean Gateway, explosions causing the structure to tremble slightly.
Miyuki had her blue weapon out and was helping Master Kolar cut a hole through the glass, but heard the screams from within and watched on as Qymaen jai Sheelal ripped Jedi Master Praet Mandinar apart, blood flying to all corners of the room as the limbs bounced off the roof and walls. It's too far away. We'll hold him until you get here. Don't you dare get yourself hurt!
The moment the cut was complete Miyuki slammed the glass in, shooting across the room where it crashed into the durosteel wall, causing a large circular dent as it shattered into a million pieces. As she and Master Kolar stepped into the tiny chamber Qymaen jai Sheelal rose up to his full height, Praet Mandinar's twin weapons bursting to life in his robotic hands. So much pain. So much hate.
Agen Kolar launched himself at the mechanical monster, red blade slashing for the large metal legs only to be blocked and knocked away for the right metal leg to streak through the air as a mere blur to crunch into Kolar, knocking him to the side.
And in that moment Cahal's visual connection to his apprentice dissolved, Miyuki focusing everything to the matter at hand. Can still feel it through, the stretching of her muscles, her calm mind holding the fear at bay. "She's just up ahead now."
Both Agen and Yuki ahead of him, Serra only steps behind as he raced down the corridor, imbued with the Force their legs covering the ground quickly. Suddenly, he felt like he'd done this before. And it's only the beginning. It was in that moment shock, and then horror jabbed at his mind from his apprentice. All of which was quickly followed by a trickle of fear; a drip which turned into a river as pain flooded along the connection.
He rounded the corner almost barging the door off it's hinges before leaping through the hole in the glass, seeing a hole in another wall plenty large enough for the mechanised beast to have escaped through. "Master?"
He was already on his knees in the blood that covered the floor. "Master, I know you're there." Soft, weak, terrified. He hadn't heard her voice like that in almost a decade. He reached out and placed his hands on the sides of her face, even not touching the fresh scars he still felt the pain, she flinched as he did, her hands instantly grabbing his forearms. This close one could feel all of the other. Quite sadistic that they're still red, not twinkling though. They never will again. He couldn't hide the sadness; compassion and guilt from her.
"Master, I can't see." Serra stood behind him, looking down as he was, her feelings echoing his own.
"Look through mine." She nodded in his hands, he felt the connection, for little more than a glimpse, then it was gone. "Yuki, it's alright."
There was a cough and a lurch. "He's getting away." Cahal and Serra looked to see Agen Kolar on the floor to their left, his body ending at the left knee and above the right. Now that's just downright unsettling.
"Master?"
"Don't worry about it."
"I'll track him." Serra moved for the door before she'd even finished the words.
"Just keep him occupied, I'll follow in a minute." Then she was gone.
"I need to help." Agen said, rolling over onto his belly.
"You stay put, you'll only get yourself or the rest of us killed." He never took his eyes from his Padawan's scarred face, melted red flesh swelling around her melted red eyes, her eyelids glued open. "As for you." How much hate must be in him to do this? With her head in his hands he already had her memory of the moment, a metal leg pinning her to the wall, helpless without a weapon as the machine man turned off his weapons, purposeful glee in his eyes as he shoved the glowing red hot metal blade-guards of Praet Mandinar's twin lightsabers into Miyuki's face. "Stay still."
"Why?"
"I don't have as much skill in this as I should." He placed his hands over the scars on his girl's face, and in spite of the pain she never moved a hair. From his hands he leaked tiny strands of the Force onto the wounds. Must be careful, not to make it worse.
It took more energy than he would normally use, but that didn't matter to him right then. It wasn't his area, but he worked it out anyway, slowly easing the pain as he loosened and freed up the skin. To say it wasn't painless would be like saying water was only wet when you touched it. And he had only ever learned enough to treat himself in a crisis. But Yuki never flinched, never trembled, never moved. She's tougher than they ever gave her credit for.
When he took his hands away a moment later the red swelling had completely vanished, leaving white scars around her eyes, scarred eyelids moving freely as though they were never restricted at all. But I couldn't do anything for the eyes themselves. Where before they were large red orbs, now they were foggy white, taking nothing in.
That's alright Master. The eyes can deceive. He smiled at that. Then, out of nothing, her left hand moved from her face and slammed into the side of his.
"What was that for?"
"Being an idiot! Now go help Serra!"
He smiled. Definitely tougher than they ever thought. "You get Agen out of here."
He could see the smile she tried to hold back. "Go!"
He launched himself through the hole in the wall, again racing through the halls after another piece of his life. Well, at least that part wasn't wrong. Yuki.
I know Master. Now focus on what you're about to do. I'm already moving. And he could feel her doing it, on her feet and hauling the legless Zabrak Jedi Master along though he was still twice her size.
The great Astillean Gateway rocked and shook, and enveloped in the Force as he was Cahal felt it stretching and straining with the stresses of the Twins it orbited as the malfunctioning flight and orbital systems fought against it. We played right into his hands. The Astilleans didn't want him on the surfaces because of who he was, so they put him in the most secure place they had. Right where he wanted to be. He felt sick. The Gateway was going to fall, there was no doubt in his mind, either it crashed or was torn apart by the gravity wells, either way it was gone, and Astillia would be open to attack.
Later, get help and set up defences later. Sheelal now or things will only be worse. He saw it, and was already in the air as the floor beneath him stretched and tore apart; his feet instead of being shredded raced along the wall as he turned a corner and jumped through the torn-open blast door to Hanger Deck Four.
Serra and Sheelal were in the middle of the hanger, in the midst of a classic Jar'kai dual. Sera's twin green blades flashing in almost perfect synchrony with the mechanical moves of Sheelal as they stepped around each other. Dooku's taught him some things. Cahal threw himself across the room, his orange blade shooting into existence as he drove it for the creature.
But in the last moment Sheelal dragged his foot back and in a flash brought one of his stolen weapons to meet him.
"I'm sorry Jedi, but we really don't have time for this." The mechanical, breath-heavy voice said as a few explosions made the room rumble around them.
"Don't worry General." He replied, "We don't need much."
"How about we reschedule? I'll be going to Coruscant shortly. Does that work for you?"
What is he? As the Gateway began to list gently to his left Cahal decided he'd better not waste what time he did have. Stride is long. Reach is far. And he's as fast as most Jedi. Cahal moved to one side as Serra moved to the other, and the two of them enveloped Sheelal as the creature took precise backward steps. But no matter how hard he and Serra pressured, they only met with another lightsaber.
Crap! He had the time to react, just seeing it ahead of time as Sheelal reached up into his coat with his right leg and pulled out a third lightsaber, igniting the red blade and spinning it in a circular arc which Cahal had jump to avoid as he knocked away a strike at his head from Sheelal's left arm.
But the red blade continued on it's path, and Serra locked blades with both it and Sheelal's right arm weapon, her left horizontal above her head and her right vertical in a reversed grip, both arms straining with trying to hold back an overwhelming mechanical strength that powered the old Kaleesh warrior.
As Cahal came down he slashed at the machine's foot which was just moved away in time, and instead he collected the hilt of Agen Kolar's weapon. But the machine was already moving, and in a blur he had gone in to kick Serra; who had taken a step away, before arcing it around to follow a strike which knocked his orange weapon down, leaving a massive hole for the mechanical foot to fly in and crunch into the side of his face.
One moment Cahal saw the blur of a metal foot, the next he was rolling on the hanger floor. With his spare right hand he pushed himself up and squared himself out, landing with ease on his feet. Staring at the floor he saw blood, and he felt a wetness on his face also. He ran a hand over it. Broken nose, squashed and torn ear. Scrapes on cheek. Had worse. Already in the Force his pain was dimmed, but knowing what he'd probably need to win this fight he immersed himself further, pain receding until it was non-existent. His gaze rose to Sheelal once more to see the machine man stepping across to him, taking his time as he kept an eye on Serra; his clawed feet gripping the floor of the hanger to compensate for the tilting floor.
Serra launched herself at him, green blades flashing in the crazy haphazard arcs of Juyo. He felt himself smile as he watched it. And they said it couldn't be done. Sheelal turned, met over a dozen strikes in only a few moments before jumping over Serra, upon landing his foot digging into the floor and ripping up a grate with almost effortless ease before hurling it across the room, turning the grate into little more than a momentary blur that Serra rolled to avoid, coming up to find Sheelal having moved to directly in front of her, weapons slashing down at her.
Too late. She raised her green blades only to have them slapped down, maintaining enough control to knock them aside, but the cyborg warrior had again moved with blurring speed, his knee slamming into her chest with a crunch. Not a moment later Cahal had shot across the intervening space at a speed that beat anything the machine had managed up to that point, his lightsaber pushing two blades just enough to the side as he spun and rocketed into the mechanical beast at the pelvis. He heard and felt a metallic groan as he connected, but nothing near enough to force a real problem.
And Sheelal only hit the deck where they stood, one foot ripping the floor to shreds as the other held him in place. As he stood there, looking from the floor to upgraded Kaleesh soldier as he righted himself, fleetingly he heard himself think, Um, we might have a bit of a problem here. Then the assault began, Cahal ducking and weaving as he had learned to do, but with his opponent as fast as he was large, and with his reach so long he couldn't get back or away, and the Separatist war machine moved like no other fighter he had ever seen. But then, he saw he wouldn't have to.
Knocking the stolen weapons high and to his left, he left a window open and was then blasted backwards across the hanger as Serra took both him and herself out of danger. He could feel the soldier keeping back, considering his next move as a blue atmosphere began to appear from the exterior bays of the hanger deck. We're going down, and she's gonna be ripped apart. Thankfully he could feel Miyuki just leaving in another ship from Hanger Deck One.
He met Serra's eyes, saw the pain she was carrying, felt the broken ribs. "Are you certain you still want to do this?" She said to him with a smile.
"And you don't?" They shared a smile as they picked each other up. They had spent years practising the blades together. Them and Xoren and Anakin and Obi-wan and even Tysha Mandinar. Someone will have to tell her about her brother. This was like nothing they had ever faced, and for sure the others had always called him and Serra 'a little off' when it came to this sort of thing, but the beat of his heart, the pulse in his arms, the restriction of pain at the prospect of being pushed to his limit, feeling precisely the same emanating from the woman standing beside his shoulder; for them this kind of fight was truly exhilarating.
This was truly like nothing they had ever experienced. Sheelal had a warrior's instinct, and a life spent on the battlefield to earn him a general's knowledge. And now, with the added machinery, he was as precise and faster than almost any Jedi Cahal had ever met, Maybe only Drallig and Windu, and his blows were heavier than any could achieve without aid of the Force. Within himself, he found a touch of admiration. They created a Jedi Hunter who has no need of the Force. "You cannot win, Jedi." His heavy clawed feet slamming into the floor as he spoke while approaching them, his stolen weapons held almost casually to either side.
"Come on then." Serra beckoned.
"Or you're gonna burn with us." Cahal added.
"It will be nothing new to me. I have already died; the heat of fire, and the cold of nothing enveloping me, the Jedi's disregard for the welfare of my people scorched into my memory for an eternity." He kicked a pair of mech droids to the side, continuing his approach as the room started drifting further to the left, him and Serra now requiring the Force to keep themselves steady. "But instead of finality I was reborn, given a new body to fulfill my true purpose." His rage radiated outward from him, his hate clinging to him like an aura.
Cahal could feel the Gateway start to burn on the exterior, and several floors beneath him the mammoth station began to break apart as it was rocked by further explosions. That gloomy, grieving depression is still there, like it's stuck in the nose. It was never a lie, just the base core of what remained of the man beneath. "Colonel?" Serra asked when she felt the change in him, the realization.
"I've got an idea."
"It's not gonna get me killed is it?"
"We'll just have to find out."
"Enough!" the Kaleesh cyborg pounced at them, his whole body a blur as he crossed the last of the space, "The time of the Jedi is over!" Sheelal started moving in a completely different manner than before, a flurry of almost imperceptible stabs and strikes while his swift movement and positioning of his frame kept both him and Serra from performing any convincing counterattack. It was as though he fought not to dominate to fight, but to position both of them for the most crippling blow he could deliver. It's me, Cahal realised as he was forced into backing away while Serra held her ground. He's fighting like me.
Not a moment later Serra realised it too, and also chose to fall back, ceding the ground and initiative to the crowning achievement of Techno Union designs. In that brief moment Cahal sent out a strand of the Force, probing the mechanical body, and did indeed find that there were electro-drivers attached to the creature's brain, but for all he knew he could only find them to enhance what was there. Okay, he completely analysed my style and can now mirror it. Sheelal took a step up to Serra and with a pair of heavy blows first saberlocked with her and then beat her several steps back, instantly twisting his unnatural body around to charge at him. So, how would I fight myself?
But he was saved the chance to consider as he was assaulted once more, and in those moments he suddenly felt a twinge of pity for Xoren and Tysha and Anakin, his three friends who had never quite been at his level, the three he had always felt in total control over, the three who no matter how they pushed themselves always discovered he held back a little when they sparred. And it was definitely an experience fighting someone who was all positioning, speed and precision. The closest he could think of was Cin Drallig, the battlemaster himself. Or maybe Qui-gon Jinn, in his youth.
Wait a minute. It is me, perfectly. And with that thought, Cahal kept dropping back, surrendering the ground , willing the Kaleesh warrior to continue his assault, using a style that wasn't truly beneficial to what his rage was pushing him to do. Cahal pointedly dropped out of his style of choice and into a crazy mismatch of Juyo and Soresu to keep the insanely fast strikes at bay, forcing his opponent to keep moving. The precision, for a mechanical mind without experience; it's too perfect.
He kept on backtracking as he saw Serra push herself up and look for an entry point. The hate in Sheelal's eyes burning into him, a wave of rage responding to Cahal's calm, excited smile. Now. As Cahal knocked the Kaleesh's left weapon away he took a tiny step forward and twisted his weapon horizontally, Sheelal ducking to avoid it as it came across and knocked back the right weapon, pushing it behind his back as he twisted away to his left around to the side. Here goes nothing.
He took his left hand off his weapon and grabbed Sheelal on the neck, where electrical currents had replaced his brain stem and neural pathways. Channelling the Force into it he tapped into the mind of Quiman jai Sheelal, and he found precisely what he had expected. Pain, sorrow, and rage.
A creature long bereft of anything that had once made him compassionate, kindhearted, or sympathetic. There was no shadow on his mind, he knew and understood all that he did, all that he was, all that he had become. A lost soul, clinging to all that is left to him. He knew how it would end, Cahal saw it in the creature's mind, he knew, and he had made his peace with it. To the Kaleesh war hero buried within it was an inevitability, and in many ways wanted it sooner rather than later, but he was a soldier, a warrior, having lived the life of a fighter; it was not in him for it to end any different to how he had lived.
We're more the same than we are different. Cahal couldn't honestly say that it surprised him, even before he had tapped into the Kaleesh's memories he had felt it, the similarity, the difference. There is much to be admired in him, in another life, what a man he could have been. But that was not this life, and yet, Cahal couldn't find it in himself to do what he should have. Not again, not like that.
So, stretching across the mind of Quiman jai Sheelal he altered the routes, funnelling what he could; a scientist would say he was rewiring the brain. In truth he manoeuvred the pain and sorrow and hate and rage that made up so much of what the once mighty Kaleesh warrior had become, herded it across the mind like sheep, and then raised a block to shut it away.
Not a fraction of a moment after the connection was made it disconnected once again, Cahal falling and rolling to the side as the machine man spun around, stolen blades flashing in an attempt to get at him.
When Jedi Master Cahal Meyrick opened his eyes once more he saw the giant mechanical beast bearing down on him, no longer sorrow the core of a fire of hate. Instead he was cold, ice cold as he began moving, preparing what could only be a Juyo onslaught.
What? Was all he had time for as he felt the entire core of the Astillean Gateway break apart beneath him, the fire outside the bay burning hot against his face as the two-thirds of the structure that held together tipped over further, the last of the systems fractured into failure. The mechanical clawed feet kept him steady as the floor tipped almost horizontal away from the exterior exit, the almost unseen strikes completely missing Cahal as he dodged back and fell away from the metal Jedi hunter.
Cahal rolled onto his feet and launched himself away from the floor to avoid a tumbling spacecraft, setting his feet down on the glass of the control room, the heat from the exit burning not quite overhead from the planetary entry. The Force was a requirement to remain steady as what remained of the space station continued to lurch and roll and spasm around them.
He looked over to see the machine man running along the hanger deck – now almost vertical – chasing Serra as she jumped from ship to ship while they fell around her, fending off a seemingly renewed mechanical beast. The Force called to him, and he heeded the warning, bouncing off the roof and across the expansive room in a moment, dropping in beside the giant android as he and Serra found their way to the side of an unsteady Corellian Cruiser.
The heat filling the room grew as the two of them stood their ground against the mechanised beast which was handling them both with ease, elbows and wrists making his arms twist in unnatural ways which perfectly complimented his unnatural speed, glowing beams slashing and striking as it moved with a ferocious intensity.
The station rolled at a new angle, forcing Cahal to lean and take a step back as the cruiser they fought along the side of began to slant, threatening a sharp angle. But the step allowed the machine a moment of freedom, and with it he locked all four blades with Serra and struck insanely fast with one foot, snatching Serra's left wrist and squeezing tight as he yanked her across, almost ripping her arm off as she was nearly thrown clear across the entire stretch of the hanger deck.
In the same movement the machine turned to face Cahal, blades slashing and striking and forcing the Jedi Master into a spin, taking the opening to slash across his back, the blade just missing his spine as Cahal bent away from it, instead taking gashes across both sides of his back before a metal foot slammed into his spine, knocking him to the side of the cruiser as it began to tip over, turning the hard landing into a slide, then a roll over to his feet, bracing himself as the ship became near-vertical.
This is insane. He flicked his eyes from the machine man as it clung to the side of the ship with no effort, and across to Serra who was picking herself up as the floor of the hanger deck tipped again; the fiery exit to the atmosphere turning to become the floor. Need to do something different. Weaknesses. Anything at all. The machine let it's grip of the ship go, falling toward him. He has no knowledge of the Force. He stretched out, and the side of the ship blew out beneath the mechanical beast, creating a shower of shrapnel the the machine shielded itself against before with a strained gesture Cahal sent him flying to his right across the room. Serra!
Yeah? Having to reach out with his mind was natural to him, but due to the recent time with Miyuki he suddenly found the extra focus and effort required tedious.
He can't use the Force.
So? Doesn't seem to slow him down at all. True enough, the machine had already righted himself, clinging to the near-vertical floor as the broken station continued to roll over, and he was taking care not to move more than one foot at a time.
So, this! He reached out and again crunched the floor at the machine's feet, but with the gesture the machine read it and moved, jumping to the side, landing on top of a falling space fighter. And with it he felt a little embarrassment in Serra's mind.
Don't tell anyone that I didn't get that.
I promise. Rather than destroying the ship the same way he had the floor, Cahal reached into the ship, and amped up the pressure in the engines to rise far above what they were designed for, causing it to explode. The machine again read it with his gesture, but did get a minor lash of the blast, before a ball of energy struck him in the air, sending him hurtling across the room to ricochet off the side of the cruiser and slam into the side wall.
The hit caused the cruiser to roll and tip at another angle, so Cahal had to jump off it, catching a hold of a failed light on the roof as the station continued to roll over, the roof seemingly to take an age to become the floor. One arm holding onto the grates covering the light, Cahal turned his head to see Serra standing on a space fighter locked in place, her left arm hanging limp at her side.
The Force whispered to him and he let go of his hold on the roof just as heavy blaster fire came in at him. He looked up to see a small transport skiff, heading for the exit as the guns wre fired at him, Cahal jumping across a dozen spacecrafts above the fiery exit. As he ran he felt Serra use the Force to rip up the base of the skiff, only for the machine man to leap away as Cahal had done, jumping from ship to ship, avoiding every blast and explosion he and Serra could muster.
Cahal came to a sliding stop on the roof, turning to see the mechanical Separatist leader jump out the exit with a half dozen spacecrafts, disappearing into the flames. Pushing himself up with only a small intent to continue the pursuit, he was instead greeted by Serra as she slammed into him, the two of them sliding and rolling over each other a the cruiser slammed flat into the roof where he had stood.
They tumbled in each other's arms across the roof-turned-floor until they came to a stop on their sides, face to face. He looked at her, seeing her to be as sweat covered as he felt as he fought to catch his breath. "Don't tell anyone I missed that."
"I promise." She replied with a pained smile. Still wondering how he had missed it he realised something else. They were completely out of time. Gripping Serra tight he rolled on top of her and mustered what Force he had into a cocoon of energy.
The room shattered and crumbled, their world crashing around them with a collision that blasted all light out of existence, hammering and jarring their bodies, the Force vanishing from his grip.
Silence. Darkness. But the emptiness was soon washed away by a torrent of pain. There was a cough and then a slick taste in his mouth. It took Cahal a moment to realise it was him as he coughed again, trying to push himself up but only getting a burst of fire through his right leg and back. "That sucked." he groaned, the Force unwilling to return, he was in no shape to take hold of it, and he felt every inch of his body ache or burn. He felt movement beneath him.
Then he heard Serra's voice, "Cahal?" and instantly felt a moment of relief.
"Yep."
"I thought for a moment..." He felt a pair of arms go around him. "Has anyone ever told you how stupid you are?"
How, in the midst of the pain he managed a smile, he had no idea. "Yuki. Quite frequently." Which earned him a laugh.
"Good to know she takes care of you. Could you get off me now?"
He couldn't moved had he cared to. "You're gonna have to help me there."
A few moments later he felt the Force trickle across him and the small space there were in. Faint, trying to conserve what she has left. The soft wave washed over his legs, finding is right pinned in place at the knee, bent the wrong way. "Alright, give me a moment."
But she didn't free him just yet, instead he heard some shuffling and shifting from near his head, and then very slowly a few precious rays of light shone in on them, revealing Serra's bloodied face to him, straining with the effort of what little strength she had left.
"Okay." He saw her move her arm, and then there was a scream to accompany the onrush of pain as his leg was freed. "Now hang on to me." He did as she said as her arms went back around him, then there was a rush of air as the two of them shot out of the rubble.
A few moments later Serra had picked him up with her right arm and was helping him as they trudged through the shattered and collapsed ruins of the mighty Astillean Gateway, shards of light poking through to mark their way. Suddenly they stopped. What in the 'verse is that?
"What in the 'verse is that?" That her words echoed his thoughts never concerned him in the slightest, so profound was the knowledge of what the both of them were feeling right then, battling with the physical pain that was doing a respectable job of overwhelming him.
"Come on." he urged her to continue, the tunnel of ruins ending just ahead.
They stepped out onto the side of a mountain that overlooked wide expanses of open plains, covered in flowing red grass as it stretched out to what was the wide domes of Blue Astillia, cradled within it the planet's central city, and one of the most beautiful sights in the galaxy. Now, even at the distance they were, it was clear that they were all cracked and threatening to shatter at any moment.
But their attention was dragged to the blue sky above, where the larger, greenier of the Twins was rotating in it's orbital paths. Even now he could smell it, that now all too familiar stench. Though only once before has it ever been so strong. Serra and Cahal were frozen in place as the larger brother slowly, woefully turned, to reveal the pain hidden behind; the entire surface a living blaze that turned the blue sky into a stark burnt-orange as white flecks of ash began to rain down to the surface and coat the red flowing grass.
"So many." Serra spoke gently, not to anyone in particular he could tell, simply trying to fathom it herself. He was trying to do the same. "Millions of voices screaming in horror and pain." In the corner of the sky, almost hidden through the smoke there was a large blink that the experienced eyes understood was a large battleship fleet engaging their hyperdrive engines. If it were only a few it would undetectable, and as it was it was still almost invisible. Even then, feeling as Serra did the agony raining down on them, unable to fight off the stench of death that stuck in his nose, the fleet registered as little more than, Separatist attack, heading for the Core Systems.
As it was what remained of his focus was reserved entirely on what was above him. Or more correctly, the feeling of what was descending on him. "That cannot be happening." even the denial was not enough to shock it into his system.
"What?" Serra knew he didn't mean just the pain that they were feeling, the simplicity of death. So he tapped into her mind and directed her to what was the truth of the matter, and in response they both collapsed, falling onto the ground, a burst of fire jarring him as their backs hit a slab of metal that ran a little further than the rest of what was the tunnel. "What?" the shock and fear in her voice would have embarrassed many Jedi, without the context.
"I, I think I did this."
"What?"
"I did something to him, I thought it was right at the time, but..."
"But?"
He somehow managed to look at her, the sadness and fear in her eyes was as plain as he knew it was in his own. "I think I freed him."
"What's that meant to mean?"
"What living being could ever bring themselves to do that?" He tilted his head upwards once again, not even caring how long that they had been there already for the larger planet in the sky to now be almost a third red-orange instead of green. And a little larger than it should have been.
"None that I have ever come across."
She shifted beside him a little, and he saw her pull a Jedi beacon out of a pouch on her belt, immediately activating it. Then she put her head against his shoulder, unable to look at or think of much else than what was happening above them, just as he was. He lowered his head against hers, their attempts to fight back the overwhelming pain and exhaustion completely banished by the agony of millions that was now slowly descending; fixed on an inescapable path to annihilate many more.
General Grievous, the slaughterer of billions, the destroyer of worlds.
He could feel it also in the woman beside him, they had never been trained for something like this, they could never have been prepared for it with they way they were taught to feel the currents of the universe. It was crippling just knowing that nothing could be done. So there they waited, cradling each other in the shadow of ruins beneath a burnt-orange sky as the larger, burning planet fell from grace; the harbinger of unavoidable holocaust.
