Author's Notes: Okay, the last major chapter. This and then the epilogue. So close!
I'm also really close to 100 reviews (okay, not really) but it would sure be cool if I got there. And that's all I'll say. :P Though I imagine there will be some…reaction…to this chapter… Anywho.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The Hawk spun through the debris-filled air, twisting and yawing and trying to make its way through the chaotic atmosphere. Elliott and Atton worked feverishly to keep the ship in control while employing every technique ever learned about evasive action and piloting in a warzone.
An atmosphere of stressed silence pervaded the ship. No one on board spoke. They simply waited and silently hoped and prayed that they would find success.
Caius, as he sat strapped into one of the available chairs, noticed that his hands were shaking. There was nothing he could do to stop it. He held his hand flat and concentrated on it, but to no avail. It just kept there, like it was shivering in the cold.
Outside of the Hawk's viewport, the Aegis was drawing closer. It grew in size to the point that it almost enveloped their entire line of sight. Another piercing white beam shot out of its snout, tearing Coruscant's surface asunder.
As soon as they were close enough, the dreadnaught opened fire on them. Hundreds of guns lit up at once, spraying bullets and firing rockets and missiles at them. Elliott valiantly dodged and weaved through them, spinning the ship around several times. All around them, Republic fighters and troop transports were being blasted out of the sky, draining them of precious few resources necessary for the landing.
Closer they came, until two Republic destroyers offered some relief. They sped around to the side of the massive dreadnaught, drawing fire and shielding the smaller ships for the torrent of guns that had been targeting them. The destroyers fired wildly and inaccurately at the Sith docking bays, hoping to clear out as many of the enemy as possible.
The Hawk maneuvered through the falling wreckage, pieces of broken Republic ships careening through the atmosphere with alarming speed, and barreled straight towards the enemy ship at a speed that only the Hawk could achieve.
There was a brief window, and Elliott took it. The Sith ship had sustained the bombardment, but many of the soldiers and guns inside the docking bays had been taken out. If he could navigate the bullet hoses that were spraying out of the hull of the ship, he could get a clean look at a landing.
He sent the ship into a barrel roll and pitched the freighter straight into the bay. In a maneuver that appeared suicidal, he banked hard to the left and brought the Hawk around in a full semi-circle, flying through the massive bay, letting the Hawk's automated turrets do a little damage to the ground troops.
The destroyers continued their sweep of the hangers, although one of the ships appeared to be in critical condition as fires were beginning to break out of its port side hull. Their impartial assault had leveled most of the Sith in the bays, as well as destroyed a good amount of equipment.
As the Hawk spun around and slowed to a hover, dozens of other Republic ships joined it in storming through the bay, spraying lasers everywhere. Several fighters roared past behind them, escorting in at least half a dozen Republic dropships—a number far greater than they expected.
The crew of the Hawk hurried out of the freighter at an almost breakneck speed, sprinting down he loading ramp and meeting the others. The dropships were operating at a similar pace, the soldiers hurrying along as though the battle were timed. Dozens of Republic shock troops—what remained of the Fourth and Twenty-Third Divisions—poured out of the ships, many of them carrying large explosives as well as their weapons and armor.
As Caius leaped down from the Hawk's ramp, he looked up and out towards the burning orange skyline. Another dropship, he saw, was careening towards them. It was on fire at the rear, but it was still in line to land in the bay—or at least crash. It streaked through the air, and as it drew near, Caius saw that part of the hull was blown off. On that side, an orange figure—the same color as the burnt atmosphere of the planet—was hanging off of the side. It drew near and then a single laser flew from it and over Caius's head, nailing a Sith who had been fighting off the Republic boarders.
Caius turned back around to see the dropship fall onto the bay's surface and skid to a screeching halt. On its side, HK-47 stood proudly, holding onto the warped metal with one hand. As the ship finally died, the droid hopped down from his perch and said, "Greeting: Master, fancy seeing you here." In between words he squeezed his trigger again and nailed another Sith. Caius just watched, surprised and not-surprised at the same time. "Tally:" said HK, "one hundred and twenty-eight."
"Gonna break your record?" Caius asked.
"Answer: I believe so, master. Extraordinary timing, is it not?"
The firefight continued to rage around them, but the Republic shock troops were gaining the upper hand, separating the Sith into corners and finishing them off. They secured the area, or did so as best as they could, and allowed the Jedi about a minute to enact a plan.
"We'll split up," announced Revan, and then he divided up the two teams. Mira and Atton would go with one of the two Jedi women that Caius did not know, and they would join the large number of soldiers who would arm the bombs near the stern of the ship. HK, wanting to be near as much destruction as possible, opted to join them. The rest, Caius, Revan, Bastila, two other Jedi, and the remaining Republic troops, would head to the bridge where it was expected that they would find Ardashir.
Timing was of the essence, as the bombs would not destroy the ship unless Ardashir was slain, as the ship thrived on his soul, bound to him. As soon as Ardashir was eliminated, then the bombs would be armed—an irreversible process. The two teams would then have barely fifteen minutes to escape the way they came. If they did not, then they would perish with the ship.
"Let's do it," said Atton.
The Republic fleet was totally broken by now. Confusion reigned, as the lines and battle groups had been broken and scattered. Some of the ships were down near the surface, trying to keep the dreadnaught away from the Jedi Temple and the remaining Coruscant landmarks. Some of them were still wandering through the wreckage in space. Most of them were destroyed.
Three Orbital Stations still remained, but their effectiveness was very limited. They could not fire down below upon the ravaging Sith fleet as a missed shot would only increase damage. They were then limited to firing upon the Sith ships still engaging the tattered Republic fleet in orbit.
Carth only watched helplessly as the scenes were unfolding. There was nothing he could do now about the space battle. All he could do was hope to keep his ship alive, but even then his only role now was to listen to the frantic reports coming from the starboard side of the ship where the Sith boarders had landed. He hoped silently that his son would not be hurt.
Looking down towards the surface of Coruscant, watching as it drew closer. He observed the Aegis, creeping ever so slowly towards the Jedi Temple.
Dustil just barely pulled out his green lightsaber to stop a Sith sword from cutting into him. He flipped it around and cleaved off the Sith's hand, then stabbing it in the chest and killing it. So much for taking it easy, he thought.
He turned and ran towards the retreating Republic allies. They were falling back from the points of boarding as the Sith were simply too numerous and too well equipped. The repelling force consisted mainly of sailors and other ship personnel, not actual soldiers. They were not nearly strong or trained enough to repel the boarders. Dustil sprinted to catch up with them as they fell back, desperate not to isolate himself. He could hear the Sith approaching behind him.
He spun around the corner and saw the Republic defenders erecting a makeshift barricade to hide behind. He jumped over it and turned around just in time to see the Sith come around and open fire. He used the Force to throw some of them backwards, and then even opened up a singularity and caused all kinds of chaos as debris and bodies began spinning through the air and colliding with the Sith attackers.
This, however, did not prevent them from advancing. As they gunned down five of the Republic defenders, they turned once again to flee. They had to make their way towards the next door, as it was the last that connected to the emergency compartments of the ship, which could be turned into a vacuum if necessary. If caught inside, the Republic troops would be deprived of air and suffocated.
Dustil hopped to his feet to follow. He pushed hard as he ran, but before he could make it to the doorway, he felt a sharp pain knife through his leg and he stumbled and fell to the ground. He instinctively grabbed his thigh and winced in pain. He tried to get up, but the pain in his leg was too great to put weight on.
He spun around and found himself with his back to the doorway and watching the Sith advance. He pulled out his lightsaber and held in front of himself, even though he was on the ground, and prepared to go to his death.
"Shut the door!" he yelled to those on the other side.
The Sith came running towards him, guns ready, and he was prepared to die—just like Xristos had.
"Master Jedi!" cried someone from behind him. Before Dustil could embrace his martyrdom, he felt two hands grab him under the arms and he was pulled backwards, his bad leg dragging painfully across the ground.
He was barely conscious of what was going on until he noticed that he had passed through the doorway. Someone slammed the button and the airlock began to close. The Sith, from the other side, fired through the closing gateway. Bullets sprayed everywhere, striking the man who saved Dustil and killing him.
The Jedi looked up from his position on the ground and saw the door seal tight, heard bullets pinging against it from the other side.
The vacuum was then activated, and then he heard the Sith howling as the struggled for air. It was the last thing he remembered as he passed out from blood loss shortly afterwards.
"What was that noise?" asked Mission to no one in particular.
She thought for sure she had heard an explosive grinding noise, but no one else had, apparently.
The exhausted group of technicians continued to work away at the control room, monitoring the shield generator and diverting energy to all the right places around the Temple. Little did they know how poorly the battle was going.
There was another minute of relative peace before Mission heard it again, and this time she was certain.
"I know I heard something!" she said.
As she finished her sentence, the wall nearby the power generator blew outwards, shattering into thousands of pieces. Alarms started blaring, dust was blown everywhere, blocking everyone's sight. And the ceiling started caving in. There was another explosion and a second wall was blasted into oblivion. This time, the explosion was followed by gunfire. Sith soldiers started pouring in through the holes and slaying everyone inside the basement.
Allie had been, by chance, at the far end of the room, and had not been as affected by the explosion. The Sith were swarming inside from all directions, and she did not have much time. She ran over to the exit and opened the door, shouted, "Quick! We have to get outside!"
A few lucky technicians ran towards the exit as she waited. The Sith were running all around, apparently indifferent towards her. Thinking quickly, she reached down for a steel pipe that had been blown out of the wall. When she stood back up, a Sith was coming straight towards her with a sword. She swung first and managed to slash it across the face with a violent backhanded swing. She hit its face with such force that its head spun backwards and its neck broke, sending it to the ground in a heap.
Just as it hit the ground, Mission leaped over the body and ran towards the exit.
Allie turned to leave, but saw Sergeant Verkand hobbling in as well, and she determined to hold the door open as long as possible. As he came running, there was another explosion—this one more deadly than the first two—and the roof began to cave. Allie braced and closed her eyes, hoping that nothing would happen to her. She blindly went for the exit, still feeling that she was alive. She jumped through the frame and turned around. Verkand had fallen to his knees, as the collapsing roof had thrown him to the ground. He tried to get up, but before he could a steel beam fell straight down and impaled him through the back. He sank to the ground and rolled to the side.
Allie looked on in horror, almost frozen. Somehow, the man retained consciousness and gazed up at her with a scandalized expression. "Run…" he croaked weakly.
She slammed the button to shut the door and then fried it with her blaster, hoping that it would keep the Sith back for a little while.
She ran up the little flight of stairs and out into a hallway. She, for the first time, saw outside and noticed immediately how terribly bad the battle had gone for the Republic. She saw all of the fires and the destruction and the countless dead—all of it almost right in front of the Temple. It took her a moment to notice the mob of people scrambling by without purpose. She looked down and saw Mission on the ground, holding her left arm—blood seeping through her sleeve. T3 was there, too.
Allie grabbed Mission's other arm and pulled her off the ground as gently as possible. "We have to get out of here," she said.
"Where?" asked the haggard voice of an old man from behind her, "where is there to go?"
She wheeled around and was shocked to find that the very Chancellor of the Republic, Quintus Sertorius, was standing—or at least, trying to stand—right by her, mixed in with the refugees and people fleeing for their lives. This is what the Republic had been reduced to. As she saw him, she thought that he looked disturbingly old and sickly. It was as if he had aged one hundred years in the past week. His skin was wrinkled and his hair was pure white. A famous soldier, he bore a deep scar that ran vertically over his left eye.
Allie thought for a moment before taking the lead and saying, "We have to go higher!" She looked and saw that no one else had any suggestions, so she added, "The Council Room—we'll go to the Council Room! Follow me!"
Caius jammed his lightsaber into the leg of an attacking Sith soldier, stabbing it in deep. He grabbed the Sith's shoulder and pulled it downwards, spinning around in the process. He flipped the Sith over and took its leg off in the process.
The other Jedi were fighting valiantly. The Sith were surprised to have been boarded, but if anything they fought more tenaciously.
Bastila pirouetted elegantly and sliced two Sith in half in her spin, and Revan preferred to let the Force do his dirty work—vaulting Sith across the room and breaking necks and limbs from afar. The other Jedi fought with their swords and the Republic shock troops tried as hard as they could to not get caught in the crossfire. They inadvertently aided the Jedi, however, as they never hit them with friendly fire, but always distracted the Sith.
The inside was absolute anarchy as they progressed through the innards of the great vessel. Alarms were ringing wildly, and Sith were scrambling everywhere. Revan and his crew made very slow progress as a result.
The ship was not dissimilar to its Republic counterparts. The walls were solid and without any decoration, just some lines. Their orangeish tan coloration cast the environment in a strange auburn hue as they fought—which Caius felt added to the battle ambiance. It was a somewhat violent color.
The group marauded through a short hallway and arrived at a shut door. Caius decided to ask, as two Republic soldiers finished off a straggler Sith, "Revan—do you know you're way around this thing?"
"No," he answered simply, "but if it's anything like their other ships, we should be able to find the bridge."
One of the troops began tinkering with the lock, attaching a small device that would melt through the controls and open the door.
"How is it," Caius began, "that this ship is so much bigger than the others?"
"I never really knew," Revan answered, "I assumed it was because of Ardashir's penchant for the theatric; now I realize that it was part of his scheme to create this Force microcosm—though I still attribute the size to theatrics."
"Maybe he's compensating," added the locksmith soldier.
With that, the lock blew out and the door opened. Two dozen Sith were there waiting for them. They opened fire immediately.
Bastila cast a protective shield in front of them, blocking off the door and scattering the enemy bullets. Revan threw them all backwards with a blast of power and then the Jedi charged into the room.
The shot was precise, and the Sith's head exploded as a blaster bolt hit it right between the eyes.
"Tally: One hundred fifty-two."
"Would you quit counting," said Mira as she deactivated her lightsaber, "you're driving me insane. It's like water torture."
"Statement: I cannot, meatbag."
Mira sighed with disgust. She turned to Atton, who was trying to determine which door they should open.
"Master Jedi," began one of the Republic men, "I believe that, structurally, it would make the most sense if this door leads to the engine rooms." He gestured to one on the right side of the room they were in.
The rest of the Republic soldiers all joined them, a good number still alive. Atton answered, "But the Sith tend not to make sense."
"That is a good point," replied Mira.
HK then began, "Statement: My scanning readouts and calculations are congruent with the soldier meatbag's analysis. The engines should be this way."
"Good enough for me," Atton shrugged, "we still got all the charges?"
"Yes, sir," answered one of the masked troopers.
"Then let's get going."
Elliott was waiting inside the Hawk nervously. He had all of the guns on auto-target, and the Republic soldiers had sabotaged the defenses inside the hanger to fire upon Sith allies, but these things were of little consolation. He was left just sitting on his hands in enemy territory, and he did not like it.
He was not even alone, there were several of the Republic troops outside the ship on guard, but he was not at peace. He wouldn't be until they touched down again.
He had to force his anxiety down, however, as there was nothing he could do.
Outside, the Aegis was slowly maneuvering its way towards the Jedi Temple—intending to slam the final nail in the Republic's coffin by destroying its last bastion of resistance and its last symbol of survival. The ship was on autopilot, its target named and the flying being handled by computers as their struggle against the boarders was requiring the services of most of the Sith on board.
Valiens Nantaris watched the ship slowly tilt and churn towards them from inside the Temple. He had been part of the retreat inside, as the Sith had demolished the defensive perimeter that had been established around the Temple. He knew he would do no good meandering around the broken front, so he left to head up to the High Council room, hoping that he would find Ostyl or anyone who could offer some kind of authoritative control.
He was shocked to find, in the room, not only an authoritative figure, but also the beaten and withered Chancellor himself. In fact, there was a whole mob of refugees there—led by Allesandra Marlowe. The rest of them he did not know.
"Come for the high ground, lass?" he asked her grimly.
She nodded, but said nothing.
Nantaris strode past her and went towards the sweeping panoramic windows, gazing upon the battle. On all sides of the Temple the Sith were streaming towards it, a great horde of violent and sadistic beasts intent on nothing more than their destruction. The flames were out of control, he could see them as far as his sight would allow—which was not far due to their smoke. He could see, above the plumes of thick ash, the oncoming dreadnaught. It would be on them shortly, and then it would atomize them with that tremendous cannon.
He tapped his chin and then turned around, clasping his hands behind his back. He walked towards the front of the room, near the three small doors and the one giant one that led into the haven. There was a steady trickle of people seeking refuge in the very same place, and the Council room was becoming fuller by the minute. There was nothing he could do about it, though, so he allowed it to continue. His game was waiting.
"Is this it?" Caius asked.
"Yes—it should be near," answered the Prodigal Knight.
They had lost about six of the soldiers and the last two of the other Jedi, leaving them undermanned for this coming conflict. They only had about ten people in all. Ardashir likely would have an army with him.
They proceeded through a very large antechamber, looking around the room and inspecting every corner and even the ceiling for traps. There were none, and they were considerably surprised.
"The…bridge…is up ahead?" Bastila asked.
Revan nodded.
Something was amiss; it was too peaceful and too quiet for them to be in the right place. Ardashir had to have relocated somewhere else. And now they would have to spend the valuable time—time they did not have—to track him down.
Revan said nothing as the locksmith began to pry at the large double doors that led to what was, presumably, the bridge.
They waited in silence, the soldiers gripping their large weapons nervously.
The locksmith finished, and the doors casually slid open, revealing a massive bridge that extended horizontally for almost one hundred yards—or at least it felt that long. They were on the starboard side, and had to look far down the line to see the door that led out the port section. There was a huge, stretching viewport that extended almost the entire room, allowing them the sight of the Jedi Temple—the ship's next target.
On the walls were computers, but they were not being monitored. They simply hummed to themselves, wires sticking out and falling everywhere in a sort of unkempt fashion.
Revan let his eyes scan the room, but found nothing. He motioned for everyone to follow him as he made his way to the center of the room.
They strode behind him quietly, watching the scene outside the viewport. They all turned to face that direction while Revan thought of where the Sith Lord could possibly be. The haunting emptiness of the bridge was disconcerting, as it felt like no one was flying the monstrous ship. In truth, no one was, but the lack of presence disturbed him.
"All right," he began, "we have to turn back and—"
He turned around and there was the presence—masked by the Force but nonetheless there. And now it was too late.
"Look out!" he yelled.
The party wheeled around, but it was too late as a great black sword swept through the air and cleaved two of the Republic soldiers—including the hapless locksmith—in half. Ardashir glided out of some unseen corner of the room and stormed towards them. The sight of him was terrifying in and of itself. He was obscenely large, almost eight feet tall, it seemed, and covered from the toe up in complex, jutted battle armor. Jagged, violent points protruded from the mess of durasteel armor, threatening to impale them if they got too close. Almost his entire head, save for his discolored purple mouth was covered in a sturdy black helmet, two horns pointed out from the sides and curling upwards in an animalistic fashion. On his chest was some kind of gleaming red light—the sign of his fulfillment of Sith prophecy. It signaled his life force, and it was with this that he bound the Aegis to himself.
This was the Ardashir Revan remembered: twisted, violent, and surprising.
The Jedi took two steps backwards and the Republic soldiers opened fire on the Sith Lord. The bullets ricocheted harmlessly off of him, bouncing off of his armor and spraying everywhere. One luckless man was hit with his own round, killing him.
Ardashir spun around, waving gigantic weapons, and impaling two soldiers in the process. He pointed at another one and the man lifted off of the ground and blasted through the air, hitting a second soldier.
Caius chanced an attack, but the Sith Lord effortlessly countered it and then flipped the Exile over. He would have been killed right then, but Revan intervened and forced Ardashir to block his attack and turn around. Caius rolled back to his feet and watched the Sith Lord separate the heads from the bodies of the last three soldiers. That left only him, Revan, and Bastila.
Ardashir turned around, swinging his sword around and then letting them fall to his side. He bellowed, "Severus."
"There's one up there," whispered Mira. They were in the engine room now, the majority of their team still intact. There was an intricate networking of staircases and catwalks that connected all the parts of the giant room together, and several Sith were patrolling above them. One of the Sith was almost on top of them, but he didn't see them from his perch.
Atton thought for a moment then said, "Bingo." He whipped out his blaster pistol and then fired three rounds into the Sith, killing it.
"What'd you do that for?" Mira shouted.
Atton shrugged, "I hate lightsabers. They have no range."
"Now they all know we're here!"
"You mean if they didn't already, they do now?"
She grumbled as several Sith leapt down from the metallic ramps and began firing at them. The Republic soldiers opened up and returned fire, killing many of the Sith. They stormed into the room, leaving the Jedi behind them. Mira shot Atton a furious look, to which he simply responded, "What?"
They were interrupted, however, by a jubilant HK: "Tally: One hundred and seventy-seven! Celebration: I have done it—I have broken my own record. I amaze even myself."
"Let's get those bombs ready," suggested Atton.
Carth had gotten word of what had happened. He was fretting tremendously, knowing that Dustil had been wounded and lost consciousness, but he had been told that the boy would live—at least, he would live as long as the battle lasted. Considering how the Sith were having their way with the Republic forces, none of them would have very long.
He ordered his men to keep a distance, not chancing a confrontation, as those never went well. He could only watch from afar as Coruscant was being torn apart.
Nantaris watched as more and more soldiers were coming up the council room. Even gunfire was growing louder—he could hear the sounds of combat down the hall. He continued to watch, and was surprised to see a very large wookiee coming up the stairs as well, his fur covered in blood and his paw on his side.
He looked at the tall creature with interest and then heard a shrill voice from behind yell, "Big Z! You're hurt!"
The little blue Twi'lek ran past him and towards the wookiee. She almost knocked him down and he groaned in pain, and then she began to tenderly work on his wounds. Nantaris took a step forward and tried to usher them out of the way. "Scoot back, lass," he suggested, "you don't want to be in front like this."
Mission obliged him and led the wounded wookiee away. Nantaris didn't know why he said that—it was not as if the back was safer than the front of the room. Maybe just a little bit. He decided to chalk it up to the fact that he had always liked blue Twi'leks.
The sounds of combat were coming closer. He still had to wait—but he knew it would not be for much longer.
The three Jedi formed a triangle around Ardashir, each equidistant to each other as they fought. They circled the giant Sith Lord, hoping to lure him into a foolish strike or a bad move, but he would not oblige. It seemed like he could predict their movements, as he was always able to counter what they did—even when it seemed like all logic dictated that he could not possible fend off three people at once, especially ones as strong in the Force as these.
Apparently Ardashir was Force sensitive. He was the only Sith they had come across that had been, aside from Cyaxares, and this probably explained his leadership role. He was truly the strongest and most powerful of all of them. It also explained his tremendous dueling ability. They could not subdue him; sometimes it even felt like he was on the offensive despite being outnumbered.
He fought with two swords, both of them much larger than even the longest longsword Caius had ever seen. They had to compensate by keeping their distance from him. Coupled with his longer arms, it was difficult to get close to the creature.
He bellowed terrible and frightening things while fighting, and none of them could understand the words. They may have just been noises—gibberish. Or he may have been addressing the Force. They did not know.
Sometimes he would invade their minds and speak to them—taunt them. The voice he would use to communicate was so deep and unnatural that it almost physically shook them when he spoke. His telepathic assaults were almost as damaging as his physical attacks.
"Your precious Republic is broken," he told them, "torn asunder right in front of you. You had your chance and you did not take it. Your foolish hope in the light side is your undoing—you can see it gives you nothing."
The battle continued as all three spun around him. Caius chanced a stab at his back, but the Sith spun around and almost took his hand off for his trouble. Revan took the opportunity to strike, but Ardashir ducked underneath it and then blocked Bastila's attack.
"My empire and your country are not so different. Save for one thing," he informed them in between hacking at them. "Honesty—that is the fundamental difference. My Empire embraces it—thrives in it. Yours is backwards, decrepit, corrupt, and full of lies and malfeasance. How can you hope for moral rectitude to save you when you practice such two-faced debauchery? Your country is sick to the core."
He forced Bastila back several feet, throwing wide violent attacks.
"We enslave. We kill. We maim and destroy. But we embrace this. We live off of it. We feed off of it. We sustain our empire on this. You sustain your society on the same things, but then you would deny this of yourselves. Your slaving is widespread and undeniable. Your corruption reaches further than any can imagine. Your country is a great, neurotic disease—bloated and gasping for breath. Now an honest nation is ready to slit your throats."
He ducked under her blow and then stood up and swung at her, but she hopped backwards far enough to avoid the attack.
"The Republic is a morbid beast, begging for death. Why would you deny its urgent request?"
The Sith then vaulted backwards, completely unexpectedly, and turned in the air, landing on his feet right in front of the retreated Exile.
Ardashir swung, but Caius blocked it. Another strike, and the Exile ducked underneath it. He took a step backwards, completely focused on Ardashir. So focused, in fact, that he did not anticipate the hit from behind. A large metal cabinet of some kind had been thrown through the air, called by the Force, and it hit Caius from behind and to his right. Its sharp corner had slammed into his side and broken at least one rib. He shuddered from the impact and fell to one knee, grasping his side. Another thing—a computer, maybe—flew through the air and hit him on the head sharply.
Ardashir, however, did not have time to continue with Caius as Revan and Bastila had jointly attacked him from behind. He turned and separated them, forcing his way in between them. Revan made a poor decision, and Ardashir whacked his lightsaber out of the way and firmly kicked the man in the stomach, sending him sprawling. In an instant, Ardashir called down a large metal beam from the ceiling and thrust it down on top of the Jedi, pinning him to the ground.
This left Bastila alone to fend for herself against the mighty Sith. He attacked her, but she parried the blows effectively. Her two blue blades countered his two black ones at every turn, and she twisted and spun around on her heels, walking backwards smoothly as they fought. She had a look of calm serenity and somehow resembled a dancer with the grace and fluidity of her attacks, parries, and counterattacks.
Caius would have appreciated the spectacle were he not bleeding from his ears and his head. He felt the back of his scalp and then looked to see his hand covered in red. He was dizzy, and struggled to get up, but could not.
Revan tried to use every iota of his strength to push the beam off of himself, but it was taking a long time—it was very heavy. He even was using the Force to move it, but he was in such an awkward position calling on it was difficult. This left Bastila alone far longer than she should have been—but in spite of this she continued her dance.
Until she missed a step.
Ardashir swept his swords upwards and he impacted both of her lightsabers at once, sending them up above the Jedi's head. He forced them up higher, crossing both of them with one sword. With the other, he struck downwards towards her exposed upper body.
The Sith were at the door of the High Council Room. They swarmed up the steps and began firing inside. The few Republic soldiers present returned a pitiful volley, but the Sith were encroaching rapidly.
Nantaris glanced around at all the beleaguered and defeated faces. None of them had any hope. They had been pushed as far as they could go. This was it. This was their last stand.
He walked closer to the open door, the main entrance. He activated his yellow lightsaber and twirled it around, letting it fall to his right side. The Sith continued advancing and he turned around to see that he was by himself in standing near the cusp of the new battle line.
He regarded them all solemnly. "This temple will not fall," he said, "while I yet live."
He shifted back around to face the oncoming horde. He threw caution to the wind and leaped off of the top of the steps and down into the mangled mass of Sith marauders. He swept through three of them at once, slicing them in half. He swung quickly and precisely, forming a circle of falling bodies around himself. The Sith began to try to circle around him, but they were stopped by the attacking refugees that Nantaris had left behind. Zaalbar jumped into the fray with two vibroswords, and several Republic soldiers joined him in their last stand.
"It's been a pleasure," said Nantaris in between slaying a Sith, "to have served with you lads."
Their enemies then completed the circle around them.
Bastila gasped quietly as Ardashir drove the sword through her chest.
"You are truly lucky," he said, "At least you can die knowing the truth. Few have such a blessing."
She lost all use of her arms and they fell to her side, her weapons dropping from her hands. Ardashir twisted the blade in further, eliciting a pained yelp.
"Bastila!" Revan screamed. He almost bent the beam into a right angle as he forced it off of himself. He rushed from the ground and had his lightsaber ready in an instant—charging wildly towards the Sith Lord. His nostrils were flared and his face was redder than a Sith's lightsaber, the veins protruding violently out of his neck.
Ardashir did not even have time to pull the sword out of Bastila's chest as Revan attacked. He simply turned around and left it in her.
As the two fought viciously, Bastila just stood there. The sword had gone all the way through, finding a perfect balancing point and just hanging there. She did not fall to her knees or even move. She just held there and looked down at her chest, not believing that she had been just been impaled in such a manner.
"Such a display," said Ardashir, "now I see the vaunted strategist in his true form. Did you really think you were ever in control? Did you really believe that you ever truly commanded your destiny? Did you sincerely think that you fooled me? I profess disappointment—you were so easy to manipulate. And now I have repaid you for your insolence—by killing your whore in front of you."
Revan was out of control. His attacks were ill-conceived and driven by emotion. Ardashir did not have to try hard to counter them. The Prodigal Knight lunged spastically, but Ardashir sidestepped it and then rewarded Revan by slicing off his left hand.
Revan winced in pain and accidentally dropped his lightsaber. Ardashir knocked him to the ground and forced him into a bind. The Sith Lord then placed his foot on his neck, intending to crush the life out of him.
"And now the Republic will cease drawing breath as you do—dying…dying with its 'savior'."
Caius was slowly coming to. He staggered to one knee and tried, through blurry vision, to find his lightsaber. He let his fingers drag across the ground until he finally felt it. He gripped it weakly and then struggled to stand up. As he blinked into focus, he finally realized what he was seeing. Bastila had now fallen to her knees, and Ardashir's sword was still imbedded in her. Her hands were on the ground at her sides, palms upwards, and she was looking down and choking every time she tried to breathe.
He saw Revan pinned to the ground, only a stump remaining where had once had a hand.
Caius shook himself out of his stupor. He looked at Bastila again, thought, No…she's…
Suddenly the words exploded out of his mouth. "NO!" he shouted with tremendous volume. He then lurched through the air, his lightsaber over his head, across the room towards the Sith Lord.
Ardashir was taken aback by the surprise and barely managed to turn around in time to greet the Exile. He struggled to block Caius's violent strike and just avoided being slit in half vertically. However, from below, Revan used the opportunity to summon his lightsaber back to his good hand. He rolled to one side and then swept his green beam upwards.
From the front, Caius saw the green light slide across the back of Ardashir's head. There was a strange cauterized explosion as Revan had sliced through the back of the Sith Lord's neck. Pieces of charred metal and blackened bits of flesh sprayed out from the wound. The Sith Lord roared in pain and Caius used the opportunity to plant his lightsaber in the creature's chest. He drove it deep into the glowing red beacon, pushing his weapon in as far it would go. He brought himself right against the Sith's body, his face to Ardashir's face. The Sith Lord wheezed and then screamed a violent screeching roar that almost deafened the Exile.
Even as Ardashir howled in wretched agony he invaded their minds. "What we have begun…cannot…be undone—you are too late…"
Caius responded by pulling out his weapon and slinging it around horizontally. The screaming stopped and Ardashir's body went limp and crashed to the ground, his head rolling off of his shoulders.
"Go to hell," Caius muttered at the corpse.
He instantly turned around, groaning in pain from his ribs and head, to find Revan was gone. He was already at Bastila's side. Caius tried to run. He, thinking surprisingly quickly, grabbed his comm link and contacted Atton. He said simply, "Ardashir's dead." He shut it off before Atton could respond.
He hurried over to Bastila's side and knelt to the ground. Revan had already tried to lay her out, but the sword was in the way. She seemed to be going into delirium, and was not entirely aware of what they were saying.
"Pull the sword out," said Revan.
"What?" Caius asked, "that could just make it worse!"
Revan sighed, said, "It can't get worse. She's…not going to live…"
Caius was stunned by the words. Surely…surely Bastila would not die. Not like this. Not now.
"Pull it out!" Revan admonished him. He wanted her to retain some dignity.
Caius grabbed the hilt and steeled his nerves. He tried to slide the weapon out of her as gently as possible, but it did not work. She cried and grimaced in pain, but he got it out. He threw it aside and then she just whimpered.
Revan grunted as his own missing hand pained him, but he was too concerned with Bastila. He put his remaining hand on her bloodied robes and Caius saw him start to cry. Revan—the legendary soldier and missing savior of the universe—was reduced to weeping without shame in front of him. Caius's eyes watered up too and he joined him.
The Exile said, "We have to get her out of here…"
"Didn't you hear me?" Revan cried, choking down an emotional sob, "she isn't going to make it. This wound is fatal."
"We still…have to…"
"Go," Revan said sternly. "Go now—you don't have much time. Leave us here."
"What abou—"
"I am not leaving her," said the Prodigal Knight, "not again."
Caius hesitated, "I…I…"
"Run!" commanded Revan, "I'll not hold it against you."
The Exile then said in between heaving attempts to draw breath, "I…Good…bye, Revan…"
Revan nodded to him sadly.
Caius took a few steps backwards, unwilling to turn away. "Goodbye Bastila…" he whispered quietly. He lingered for another second, looking over his wounded friend with tremendous grief, before his wits came to him. The ship would explode soon. He turned around and began to run. He ran faster than he ever had in his life. The tears began to stream down his face as he did so—a terrible combination of grief, terror, and exhaustion. Guilt welled up in him—he felt he was abandoning his friend. He wanted to just lie down and die right then. But he couldn't. Something within him told him to keep going. To keep running. That there was still hope. He wept as he ran, wept as he had lost one of his closest friends.
Though it pained him, Revan did his best to caress Bastila in their final moments. It was difficult with his missing hand, but that pain was nowhere near his most trying at the moment. He wiped the blood away from her mouth and brushed her hair out of her eyes. She was coughing and trying to say something. He just tried to console her, said gently, "Shhh, it's okay Bastila. I'm here."
She just looked at him wearily. It was hard to tell if she was conscious, or if she was just drifting into the next world.
"I promised," he whispered, "that I would never leave you. And I won't. I never will."
She coughed again, but she proved that she was aware of his words. "…never," she croaked.
"Never," he answered.
Her mind was fading, but right then, as her life was leaving her, she had a revelation. She saw only his eyes as he held her there, the very same eyes as before. Finally she saw that, deep within him, the man she had loved was still there. He had always been there. He would always be there. The same kindness and devotion that she remembered had been rekindled. Never to go out.
"I love you," he said, leaning towards her and kissing her on the forehead. He put his hand on her cheek, "but you know this."
She nodded—just once, and very labouredly. She reached out through their bond—through the little connection that had still remained despite years of being apart. She whispered to him through it, with the last of her strength, I love you, too. I always have…
He was now complete. There was nothing he had ever wanted to hear more than those words. And now she had told him. She finally told him.
Her breathing was growing more irregular, and he cautioned her, pleading, "Be still."
He managed, despite his injury, to scoop her off of the ground. Gently, he held the young woman in his arms and stood up. He turned towards the massive viewport. It was morning now, and through the smoke he could see that the Jedi Temple was still hanging in front of them, awaiting its sentencing. But now there would be none.
"See?" he whispered to her, "it's still standing…we did it."
The ship then shuddered terribly. The bombs were beginning to detonate, throwing the ship into violent seizures with each explosion.
Caius ran quickly, backtracking all of his steps towards the Ebon Hawk. He reached the hanger with no time to spare, wreckage coming down all around him. Atton, Mira, HK, and Elliott were already there—as well as a few soldiers. They said nothing, just ushered him quickly inside the ship and then lifted off of the ground. Fires roared through the hanger as they escaped.
Revan turned around again, his back now against the viewport. He had nothing to do now but wait. Bastila's light was fading; he could feel it. He looked down admiringly at her. She truly was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He just watched her—wishing that things could have been different. Wishing that so much had not happened. He wished to undo so many different things. But wishing would do nothing. There was only the situation they were given.
In front of him, the heat was getting stronger. He felt it pulsating through the ship as it drew nearer. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back. The ceiling began to come down, falling all around them, everything crashing to the ground.
In an instant, the fires exploded through the open doors. The orange flames spewed through the bridge and Revan greeted them with Bastila in his arms. The fires consumed them. They died in each other's arms—just as he had always known they would.
And they were one with the Force.
Together.
The Aegis, still controlled by computers, was attempting to unleash its primary weapon. The magnificent white light shot out of its bow once again, bathing the Jedi Temple in its lethal net.
Nantaris ran his blade through a Sith and looked up, only to be blinded by its majesty. Everything stopped. The Sith ceased attacking and the Republic soldiers ceased defending. They all stood up and watched the beam as it dripped over the Temple and flowed inside, drenching all of them in its light. Zaalbar held still, Mission next to him. Allie lowered her blaster and watched. T3's mechanical innards started malfunctioning. The lonesome and forlorn Chancellor watched with sadness as he anticipated the end of the Republic right then.
As they watched, the light then faded—granting them their last seconds of life. Soon it would explode outward and destroy them.
But then suddenly they saw the flames.
From within the Aegis, fires began to erupt. Flames blasted out the sides of the hull, shattering through the viewport in front of the ship. Fire coughed out of the vent and the white light never reappeared. Explosions rattled the hull and the ship was eaten from the inside out by the fires. It snapped in half mid-way through and began disintegrating right in front of them. It began to lurch and fall towards the surface.
The Republic defenders let out a victorious cheer, their roars deafening everyone inside the temple. The Sith, conversely, went into mass panic. Ardashir was dead. Their dreadnaught had been destroyed. Their force field was broken. They turned and began to run.
Despite the chaotic retreat, Nantaris ordered his followers to pursue them. The Grandmaster cut the legs off of a Sith running past them and then stabbed it in the back.
"Chase them! Don't let them regroup!" he ordered.
In the skies above, Carth witnessed the whole thing. The Reckoner had sailed closer to the surface amidst the duel aboard the Aegis, and he could clearly see the destruction of the Sith ship. He could not, however, have anticipated its consequences.
Almost immediately after the dreadnaught went down, Carth saw a smaller Sith destroyer—caught in crossfire—go up in flames. It had not been hit very hard, but it went down. To his left, he saw a Sith cruiser light up.
"Captain," began Carth, "what is happening?"
"I don't know, sir," answered the man, "but they're going down."
"Quick!" ordered Onasi, "move into sector twelve. Engage any Sith in the way. We need to meet up with that CSG and try to coordinate a counterattack."
"Right away, sir," complied a lieutenant.
They began to move into the fray. He could see that, though the tide was not turning, the Republic navy was now actually doing damage. Subconsciously, however, he knew that there were still too many Sith. What ever had happened, it had not happened soon enough. They had been dealt too much damage.
"Sir!" shouted the navigator, "hundreds of unidentified spacecraft exiting hyperspace to our rear!"
"Damn it all," said Carth, "take evasive action, see if we can't get to the rest of our fleet before they do."
A lieutenant then stated with confusion, "Uh…it appears we're receiving a transmission."
A static hologram showed up on the pedestal before Carth. It was static and hard to determine, but it had a familiarly gruff voice. "Shove that evasive action, flyboy," it said, "we're on your side."
Carth stuttered and said, "It's…"
"Yes," answered the voice. "It is I—Canderous Ordo. Mandalore; soldier extraordinaire; and savior of your sorry asses. Now, kindly move out of the way."
The entire Mandalorian fleet had dropped out of hyperspace with the intent to wage war.
The fleet roared into action. They descended upon the scrambling Sith fleet like vultures, their huge turbolasers tearing into them. The Mandalorians drove them apart, isolating the ships, and then picking them off one by one.
As they drew lower into the atmosphere, thousands of Basilisk War Droids fell out of their open bomb bay hatches, screaming through the air in a bizarre recreation of the scene from the night before when the Sith landed on Coruscant. They streaked through the air and began blasting the Sith to pieces.
Canderous Ordro stood on the deck of his capital ship—the Dauntless—and relished the display. He was clad head to toe in gray armor, the helmet of Mandalore upon his head. He soaked in the whole scene. Before him, a burning Coruscant was being liberated—liberated by him. The enemy would be annihilated. This was what he had promised when he had told Revan that he was his man until the end.
The Ebon Hawk made it through the treacherous atmosphere and landed in the Jedi Temple. A morose quiet had fallen over them. None of them spoke as they disembarked. Atton, Mira, and Elliott stalked out of the ship quietly—trying to come to grips with the amount of death they had witnessed. Although they had all expected heavy losses, none of them anticipated losing Bastila and Revan. Revan, an enigma to them, was like some kind of foreign phantom. His death seemed fitting, as he had been fated to go out with a bang.
But Bastila…they had all known her. She had been with them through thick and thin and now she was gone. Despite the different feelings they had for her, the stinging sadness of her death jarred them so severely that they could not function.
Caius least of all. He had known her since they were young. Even though he never felt any sort of romantic connection to her, he knew that he loved her as a friend. And now he was completely broken down. He wallowed in the sticky, gloomy substance of depression. Not even cognizant of the battle raging around them.
The two soldiers that had survived exited the Hawk after him. Through their personal communicators, they learned what had happened. One of them stopped in front of Caius, who had simply sat down on the ground and stared at his feet.
"Master Jedi," he began, his voice muffled by his helmet, "the Sith have been forced into chaos. The Mandalorians are here. Mandalore himself has joined the battle."
"…thank you," Caius said without looking at him.
The two soldiers then hurriedly left. HK went with them as they were headed off to join the battle.
Caius just waited there until Atton came up to him. Mira was standing behind him, but too far away for him to see her as he continued to look at the ground.
Atton reached down and offered him his hand. He said, "Come on, Caius. We have to keep going."
"I can't believe…" he muttered, "they're gone. She's gone."
Atton didn't say anything. Neither did Mira. Caius looked up to see them. Grief was evident on both of their faces, and they did not even know her that well. Caius took Atton's hand and he was lifted off of the ground.
About twenty yards off, Caius saw Elliott standing by himself. The pilot was facing the other way, but he chanced an askance look in Caius's direction as the Exile was helped to his feet. Caius saw his eyes, reddened with tears. Quickly the man turned away, not wanting anyone to see him that way. He didn't want to let his guard down—not while anyone saw him.
"Come on, Caius," urged Atton as gently as he could through labored breaths, "let's go. Let's go find Nantaris."
Caius nodded drearily and the three Jedi began to leave. Elliott stayed behind, making sure to hide his face from them as they left. When they were gone he just turned and looked out the back of the hanger. He looked past the Ebon Hawk, the noble steed that had done so much for them.
Behind her, the battle continued to rage. The Mandalorians were quickly gaining the upper hand, however, and the Sith were being systematically annihilated.
But Elliott didn't care. He just stood there and watched, soaking in the complete silence, shakily smoking a cigarette.
Author's Notes: Okay, I can see the pitchforks, torches, and rope in the distance. Before I am lynched for what happened in this chapter, please wait! There is one more! After the last part is posted…then feel free to admonish (hang) me for what I did here.
Just know that I didn't take that scene with Bastila and Revan lightly...but it was a decision I made long ago.
Anyway, thank you so much for reading. All of you, I really appreciate it.