Asmodeus closed his eyes and waited for the end.
He reflected on his many sins, the results of which stood before him now, raising a blade to strike him down. He spent decades as a Warlord, crushing countless souls beneath his feet in his pursuit of omnipotence. He destroyed the life of an innocent child, sacrificing her to his greed and ambition. Calliope was the living embodiment of everything evil and wrong within him. When she had resurfaced in the Tartarus facility, he had briefly allowed himself to hope that he might get to attone for that sin. Fitting then, that his life be ended by the one most wounded by him. If he had to die, this was as close as he would ever get to an honorable passing.
Time seemed to slow as Calliope dealt the killing blow. As the blade fell, the East stairwell door burst open and a blaster shot was fired. At the same time, the Western stairwell door opened and a burst of Haborym's Force Lightning seared the air. For a microsecond, Asmodeus' heart beat in time with the marches of war once again. And that was when everything changed forever.
Golden energy struck all four combatants from behind, piercing their souls and causing them all to scream in agony. The impact of the attack caused the attackers to shift their aim. The blade dug into Asmodeus' meaty chest, wounding him, but stopping short of a fatal wound. The blaster bolt, fired by Oryon, caught him in the shoulder. He roared in pain. By the time the lightning struck him, instinct had taken over. He was under attack from all sides.
The golden blast dissipated, leaving everyone feeling weakened. Calliope would not allow the moment to pass. She placed a boot on Asmodeus' chest and retrieved her blade with a sharp kick. He stumbled backwards, disoriented and growling incoherently. She quickly dove for the final blow, gritting her teeth, driving her vibroblade towards the demon's heart.
She never got there. With astounding quickness, the giant Sith grabbed the girl. He roared in pain, and threw her to the ground beneath him. He continued his warcry as he drove his boot into her chest, again and again. Blood flowed from the wound in his chest, falling and mixing with the blood of the would-be assassin.
Oryon struggled to his feet and readied his rifle for another shot. He hesitated when he realized what was happened. The man before him was not the gentle and kind persona that had been fronted by Asmodeus for years. This was the Warlord. This was the evil creature that Oryon had suspected was underneath that facade all along. This was the man he came to kill.
His hesitation cost him dearly. Before his finger even reached the trigger, he was blasted back down the stairs by Haborym, who had regained his second wind and had leapt to protect his master. The air where Oryon had been standing sparked with ionization, and there was a stench of burning flesh. Haborym rushed to look down that stairwell, and witnessed Oryon at the bottom, battered and unconscious. As a threat, he was neutralized.
He turned back to Asmodeus, and found him kneeling on the floor. His blood-rage had passed, and he now cradled Calliope in his massive arms. He sobbed quietly as the life passed from her. As her final breath escaped, Asmodeus too felt a large part of him die with her. He choked back sobs, unable to catch his breath. Tears and blood danced and blended in dim light.
Asmodeus roared for a final time. Not a cry of war or anger, but a scream of anguish. Haborym bowed his head. Nothing would ever be the same again.
Back on Coruscant, Michael and Pravitas were still catching their breath from the invasive and piercing depowerment wave. The Guardian regarded them carefully. "You have been granted your lives. Be grateful. The Nexus is now that much safer without the Halcyon line polluting it."
Michael grit his teeth and struggled to his feet. "Piss off, you pretender."
The golden man could not help but smirk. "Still you resist? Come to terms with it, exile. The Nexus is no longer yours to protect. You will spend the rest of your now-natural life in this secluded galaxy, untouched by the Gateways."
Michael spit and ignited his saber. "You aren't listening to me. You want to be a Guardian, suit yourself. But this galaxy is my home. And it is protected."
The Guardian shrugged and turned back to the Rift. "I have no desire to inhabit this impotent reality any longer. Farewell, Exiles." A flash of light, and the Rift closed, sealing the Halcyon line away forever.
The galaxy went on, much as it had for countless millennia. At its various corners, those touched by the Halcyon line found themselves feeling weakened, somehow emptier. For some, this marked the end of an era. For others, it was only the beginning of a new story.
Oryon was arrested by the Dromund Kaas Imperial Guard. An encrypted holotape had been delivered to them, showing Oryon giving orders to an unknown assassin, presumed to be Calliope.
"This is what I paid you for! I swear, if you do not kill Asmodeus now I will drop you back on that miserable rock I found you on!"
He was charged with the hired assassination of 5 Sith Lords and the attempted assassination of a sixth. He was stripped of every rank and decoration and led away in chains.
Michael found in himself a new purpose in life. Cut off from his old life forever, he devoted himself to the protection of the galaxy he now called home. He sold everything he owned and purchased a plot of land on Yavin 4, with plans to create an Academy devoted to training a new incarnation of Guardians sworn to protect the galaxy against all threats. He resigned from his position in the Order of Mercy, passing his duties to a trusted associate.
Kaikorero remained on Nar Shaddaa under the care of her host, Tal'aran. With Oryon gone, there were none who knew of her original commission to kill Asmodeus, and she found a home and a purpose within the Phantom Legion.
Asmodeus, now a broken husk of the man he was, quietly stepped down from the Legion, leaving the matter of his replacement to be decided by the ruling Council members. He left all his worldly possessions to his beloved friend Volaro, and left Dromund Kaas. He abandoned his former self and took up residence on Yavin 4, declaring himself a pacifist and joining his former rival Michael in his Academy.
The galaxy continued to turn, but the Halcyon line was forever changed.
Epilogue:
Oryon waited patiently to arrive at whatever facility would be housing him. He did not regret his attempt on Asmodeus' life, but he did regret that he allowed his personal feelings to get in the way. That lapse in judgement had caused him to make mistakes, and had landed him with the six consecutive life sentences he now faced. There was no point in trying to claim his innocence. The footage of him giving orders to Kaikorero had been easily interpreted as a missive to Calliope, and therefore the deaths of the five Sith Lords had been laid on his head. It was of no consequence. Whatever Imperial facility he was dropped off at would simply serve as a safe location to plan his revenge.
The prison shipped cut the engines, and though the artificial gravity was still enabled, Oryon could detect the slight motion of the hull, indicating that they were not docked, but rather in orbit. This was not standard procedure for a prison transport. His eye narrowed. What was happening?
"Let's go, Blue." An Imperial soldier motioned with his gun, and Oryon stood.
"Where are we? What facility am I being interred in?"
"There's been a change of plans. Special request." The guard motioned to the escape pod.
Oryon had plenty of questions, but doubted that this lug would be able to answer them. There was little point in resisting, he was chained, and though he could eventually work his way out of them, there was no chance that he would not be killed in the process. He shuffled his way into the pod and sat. Without a word, the seal to the pod was closed, and seconds later it was blasted away from the prison transport. Oryon sat very still as the pod hit atmosphere. He remained motionless as it bounced and ignited against the friction of the air. If he was to be marooned, he would survive. But where was he being sent?
The pod crashed into a mountainside moments later. The seal opened again, and Oryon shuffled against his bonds to step outside, shielding his eye against the brightness of the sun. He could see vegetation, snow covered hills in the distance. Rocky crags and what appeared to be Republic facilities.
Belsavis... The irony was not lost on him.
He heard movement behind him, and faced several large men, who regarded the bound newcomer as a fresh piece of meat. They carried a variety of makeshift weapons, and were clad in the orange and tan jumpsuits of prisoners. A prison gang.
Oryon turned to face them. This was not going to be easy. But he had never allowed that to stop him before.
"Alright," He shifted, and the clasps fell from his wrists.
"Which one of you wants to die first?"