* Chapter 7 *

Mek Dain watched as, over the course of a few seconds, the counter on the computer display dropped too rapidly to follow. It then stopped in the two hundreds before beginning a much more gradual decline. This counter indicated the number of life-forms sensed aboard the Reliant. The first drop corresponded with the majority of the Star Destroyer's crew being blasted into space. The second showed the remaining crew members suffocating to death, one by one. Soon, the counter would stop at one, at which point Mek would be the only living soul aboard.

He breathed a sigh of relief. Now, everyone who knew about his role in the attack on Coruscant was dead. Neither Admiral Mo'Ari nor anyone else would be able to report him now. His secret was safe. Yet, he still felt a small touch of regret for murdering the whole crew. Some of them had not even known what he had done, yet they had been killed anyway. The slow decay of the counter indicated the long, slow agony of their final moments. It made their deaths seem more real to him than when he had first contemplated it.

I just killed people, he realized. I've never killed anyone before, and now I'm a mass murderer. The idea sent a chill down his spine. "I'm a mass murderer," he muttered aloud. The blood in his head seemed to drain quickly, leaving him dizzy and disoriented. He imagined Admiral Mo'Ari and the other crew members clutching their throats, gasping for air; or else suddenly flying through the air and finding themselves floating in the freezing cold vacuum of space, realizing that they were about to die. They must have been terrified; Mek certainly would have been, were he in their situation. He wondered if any of them had deduced that he had been responsible for their deaths. Had their last thoughts been of him?

I didn't kill them myself, he had to remind himself. All I did was open the doors. Besides, they were going to die anyway; it just happened sooner than expected. Those were the same justifications he had made before. He repeated them to himself several times until he recovered from his lightheadedness. They died so that I could complete my task. I won't let their deaths be meaningless. I will honor them by getting to safety and taking my rightful place as chancellor.

That thought stoked his resolve to survive. He returned his attention to the computer monitor, purposefully ignoring the life-form counter, and running a diagnostic on the escape pods. Most of them had been destroyed in the attack or rendered unusable, but many of them were still operational. The nearest one was about ten minutes from Mek's location. He would not have to clamber along the outside of the ship anymore; since he had opened every door and depressurized the entire ship, he could just walk down the hallways without having to worry about venting the atmosphere.

I'm going to live, he realized. This nightmare is almost over. Reinvigorated, he ran as fast as his EV suit would allow. He quickly forgot all about the Reliant crew and his role in their deaths.

As Obsidian Towers came into view, Ben Skywalker slowed to a halt. Whereas many of the surrounding buildings had been partially extinguished, the hotel complex was still completely engulfed in flames. He craned his neck to look up and the hundred-and-fifty-story triple skyscrapers that shone like a beacon amid the smoky landscape. This place is huge. If those towers fall… he let the thought hang, reluctant to entertain the terrible possibilities. Instead, he focused on Nysilla Zabeth, who may still have been trapped inside. With that in mind, he sprinted toward the row of blown-out doors and shattered windows at the base of the main tower.

Ben paused just a few meters shy of the entrance, pondering the magnitude of what he was about to do. I'm about to run into a burning building—a really tall burning building—that could collapse at any moment. This is probably the stupidest thing I have ever done. Well, second stupidest, maybe. It occurred to him that he may have made the two biggest mistakes of his life in just one morning. But If I can save Nysilla, maybe that'll make up for both of them. He took a deep breath, mustered his courage, and strode into the tower.

He could not decide which was more unbearable: the searing heat, which made Tatooine seem pleasant; or the acrid smoke, which stung his eyes and throat. Either way, Ben was sorely tempted to run back outside and get as far away from the doomed building as possible. But he could not do that until he had found Nysilla. Unfortunately, finding her would prove difficult; the smoke obscured everything except the flames, making it nearly impossible to see anything else.

Presumably, he was in the hotel lobby, which meant the reception desk—and Nysilla—had to be somewhere nearby. "Nysilla!" he called, coughing as he inhaled a breath of smoke. "Nysilla!" he called again, this time trying his hardest not to cough so that he could hear any potential reply. There was none. All he heard was the sound of crackling flames. He walked further into the building, continuing to call out for Nysilla, but, still, he heard no response.

Then, Ben heard a new sound that prompted him to freeze. It sounded like a groan—a loud, deep groan, like a massive animal had made it. It seemed to come from all around him, like the building itself was making the noise. He realized that that was indeed the case. The durasteel girders that formed the skeleton of the tower were being weakened by the temperature of the flames, causing enormous strain. That could only mean they were about to—

Crash!

Ben nearly jumped out of his skin upon hearing the loud, sharp noise behind him. Unwittingly, he began to breathe heavily as he recovered from the shock, which caused another coughing fit from smoke inhalation. He turned around to find the source of the sound and saw that a large piece of the ceiling, including a charred and warped segment of a durasteel beam, had fallen barely two meters away from him. Had he stopped just a couple seconds earlier, it would have landed on him, almost certainly killing him.

Nervously, he studied the ceiling around him, wondering if any more pieces would fall on him unexpectedly. The idea that he could be crushed to death at any moment made him seriously consider leaving the building immediately. This is too dangerous. If I stay in here much longer, I'll be dead.

But I can't abandon Nysilla, he countered to himself.

Look around; if she was in here when the explosion happened, she's probably dead already.

But what if she isn't? How can I live with myself knowing I abandoned her?

If she's dead, you wouldn't be abandoning her.

I don't know that. If I leave now, I'll never know. I'll always wonder if I didn't do everything I could.

Before he could continue arguing with himself, Ben forced himself onward, calling Nysilla's name repeatedly, hoping he could be heard over the crackling flames and the groaning durasteel. Still, there was no response and no sign of Nysilla anywhere. Barely a minute had passed when Ben decided that what he was doing was not working. This is pointless. I can't hear or see anything.

And then he realized that he did not need to. He closed his eyes and slowed his breathing, expanding his awareness away from himself. Ignoring the chaos around him, he concentrated on his desire to find the woman he loved, allowing it to channel the Force into him. Within moments, the fire and smoke and heat and noise faded away, leaving the room quiet and empty except for Ben… and one other presence that he immediately recognized.

Giddy with anxiety, Ben snapped back to reality and ran in the direction of the presence he had sensed. He came upon a twisted metal structure that could once have been a reception desk and used the Force to lift it. When he did so, he revealed the figure that had been lying motionless beneath it. Ben's heart skipped a beat; it was Nysilla.

Resisting the temptation to throw the mangled desk aside, he carefully set it down next to him before rushing to Nysilla's side. She was covered head-to-toe in a thin layer of ash and dust. Her Obsidian Towers uniform, which included a black blazer with the gold hotel logo embroidered on one side, was stained dark gray. Her golden-brown hair was similarly discolored, but with a glossy streak of dark red that extended from her scalp diagonally across her forehead. Ben realized with a pang of fear that it was blood.

He leaned in close to her unconscious face and said, "Nysilla, wake up. Nysilla? Nysilla! Please, wake up!" He gently shook her by the shoulders, but she still did not stir. For a horrible moment, Ben thought that perhaps he had been too late. But those fears were allayed when he reached out with the Force and sensed that she was still alive.

He breathed a sigh of relief, and then jolted as he heard a loud crack! Nearby, another durasteel girder had snapped in two without falling. That could only mean that the tower's structure was getting weaker. Ben decided then that it was time to go. He scooped up Nysilla in his arms and carried her back through the burning lobby toward the exit.

For a long moment, he was not sure if he was headed in the right direction; the smoke still made it nearly impossible to see where he was going. He could only trust his instincts and hope that the Force would guide him to safety. His faith paid off when he saw the familiar remains of the hotel entrance. Breaking into a run, he passed the threshold and did not stop until he was no longer breathing smoke.

By then, Ben was at least thirty meters away from the burning hotel, and he decided that it was safe enough to stop. He carefully laid Nysilla on the street and recommenced trying to wake her up. Still, she remained unconscious. Although he was not a medical expert, Ben hazarded a guess that she was suffering from the effects of smoke inhalation. Perhaps if she began breathing oxygen again, she would wake up. Even though they were outside where the air was somewhat cleaner, it was not enough.

In that moment, Ben decided to try mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, hoping that if he breathed some of his own air directly into Nysilla's lungs, it would be enough to revive her. Calling upon his first aid training, he laid her flat, tilted her head back, and opened her mouth. Once she was in the proper position, he knelt beside her, placed his hands on her sternum, and began to pump up and down, mentally counting the compressions while timing them properly at two per second. After fifteen seconds, he cupped his hands around her mouth, bent over until his own lips were surrounded by his fingers, and exhaled. A second later, he took in a deep breath and exhaled again.

For the next couple of minutes, he alternated between giving chest compressions and breathing into her mouth. When, after two minutes, he observed no change, Ben began to worry. Still, he continued to repeat the cycle, determined to wake Nysilla up. With each passing minute, his worry increased exponentially, until he was full-on panicking.

"Please!" he cried. "Wake up! Don't leave me! I love you!" He quickly wiped the tears from his eyes before bending over to breathe into her again. He exhaled once and was about to inhale when Nysilla suddenly began to sputter and cough, prompting him to bolt upright in alarm. As the coughing died down, Ben was flooded with relief that she was okay.

Breathing heavily, Nysilla looked up at Ben with unfocused eyes. With a slight frown of confusion, she asked, "Ben? What are you…" She trailed off as she noticed the darkness behind him, and gasped when she realized that it was smoke. Eyes wide and mouth agape, she sat up and swiveled her head left and right, quickly soaking in the carnage surrounding her. When she saw the hotel consumed by fire, she let out a much louder gasp and began to hyperventilate. "What… what's happening?"

Ben gently gripped her shoulders, intending the gesture to be calming. "The Sith are attacking Coruscant. They blew up this entire neighborhood."

Nysilla gaped at him, even more frightened than before. "The Sith? Here? How? How did they…?"

"We don't know everything yet," he interrupted. "All that matters now is that we need to get out of here." He took her hand in his and began to stand up.

But Nysilla pulled him back down as she took another long look at the hotel. "I… I remember it being cold. And then…" She let out a shuddering gasp. "Was I inside the hotel when it exploded?"

He nodded. "You were lucky to survive. It looked like you got thrown through the air and then the reception desk landed on top of you."

"But how did I—" Nysilla cut herself off abruptly and turned to fix Ben with an intense stare. "Did… did you come for me?" He did not respond, nor did he need to. "You ran into a burning tower… for me?"

"Of course!" he replied, a little louder than he had intended.

"Why?" she breathed.

"Because I love you." The words came out automatically. Ben spoke them with full awareness of what he was saying. He knew that they might shock her, might even scare her away, but he did not care. To him, they were so natural that he had no qualms about saying them. For a moment, Nysilla continued to stare at him, although he could not gauge her emotions. She appeared shocked, certainly, but he sensed more that he could not quite identify. Was it fear? Was it anger? Was it—

In one swift motion, Nysilla placed her hands on Ben's cheeks and pulled them toward hers until their lips met. Then it was his turn to be shocked. Of all the reactions he had imagined, this had not been one of them. But he did not dwell on that; he simply closed his eyes and enjoyed the warm sensation that coursed through him. He wrapped his arms around her waist, even as she wrapped hers around his shoulders, and held her tight.

For a long minute, they sat in the middle of the street, momentarily oblivious to their chaotic surroundings, kissing as passionately as they had done on Dromund Kaas. Ben remembered the nights they had spent together, finding solace in their shared enslavement. Those feelings of warmth, safety, and comfort were nothing compared to what he was feeling now. Perhaps it was different because of how long they had been apart. Or perhaps it was because they now knew that they were in love. Ben believed that that was the case. He had never felt this elated before, not even when he had been with Vestara.

Don't think about her, he mentally scolded himself. Focus on Nysilla.

The blissful moment was broken by a low-pitched whistling sound that prompted Ben and Nysilla to break off their kiss and turn their heads in its direction. They were just in time to see a large, jagged shape fly over their heads and crash into a nearby building. The impact was strong enough that it sent shockwaves through the young lovers. It took a second for his body to stop vibrating, but Ben still felt like he was shaking.

No, he realized, it's not me, it's the ground. They both jumped in alarm as, with a series of sharp metallic peals, another nearby building collapsed to the ground. Another series of sounds forced their heads to snap around as another building began to fall. And then another. And another.

Ben's jaw dropped as he watched a dozen buildings collapse around him. Nysilla looked just as horrified as he felt. Then, a deafening rumble, louder than the most terrible thunderstorm, came from the direction of Obsidian Towers. What appeared to be a plume of smoke rose from the ground as one of the three towers began to sink. The durasteel beams that had been holding up the hotel had finally buckled, and the entire one-hundred-fifty-story skyscraper was collapsing, pulling the adjoining towers down with it.

Nysilla's hands went to her mouth in shock. Ben figured that she must have had coworkers or guests with whom she had grown close who may have been inside the towers when they fell. He could scarcely imagine what horrors they were experiencing at that moment. He was about to wonder when the towers disappeared from view, obscured by the rising cloud of dust and ash. Rising… and expanding rapidly toward them.

"Run!" he yelled, although he could not hear his own voice over the cacophonous storm bearing down on them. He took Nysilla's hand and pulled, urging her to start running away from the cloud. He ran with her, grasping her hand firmly all the while. Behind them, the storm grew louder; the wind, fiercer. They began to feel small particles hit their backs at high speed. Then, an invisible force knocked them both to the ground, and they were inside the storm.

Ben squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in the crook of his elbow to protect them from dust and flying debris. Hopefully, Nysilla was doing the same. They lay flat on their stomachs, hand in hand, waiting for the storm to pass.

It had only taken one piece of falling starship wreckage to level Obsidian Towers and the surrounding area. The vibrations from the impact had spread throughout the blast radius, making their way through the weakened buildings. That had been enough to cause many of their structural supports to finally give way, sending them all tumbling down. And each collapse had sent out even more shockwaves, triggering a chain reaction that resulted in further destruction. In total, about eighty percent of the buildings affected by the explosion had now been reduced to rubble.

Ahsoka Tano watched it all play out on the holotable. As the tiny holographic representations of buildings crumbled to pieces, a terrible ache wormed its way through her heart. So much destruction. So much death. She wondered how many people had just died within the span of a few seconds. The last recorded scan of Obsidian Towers indicated that an estimated thirteen thousand had been in just a single tower. How many thousands—hundreds of thousands—had been trapped inside all of those burning buildings when the floor suddenly caved in beneath them? How had they felt during the few horrifying seconds spent falling inside a building? Had they had any warning before they were crushed by crumbling walls and ceilings?

She closed her eyes and bowed her head. No one in the ops center spoke a word, but Ahsoka could sense their collective sorrow through the Force. The silence was broken by a rhythmic beeping emanating from the holotable. It was an alarm indicating that yet another large starship had broken apart and was falling to the surface in multiple large pieces. New trajectories were calculated, and more red circles dotted the map of Coruscant. These were the areas that would now be ordered to evacuate, except the debris was expected to hit in a matter of minutes.

It took all of the self-discipline Ahsoka had accrued over the past several decades to force herself to remain composed, even though she wanted to scream in anguish. She had not felt so utterly powerless since Emperor Palpatine had held her prisoner in the dungeons of the Imperial Palace. People were dying. Tens—no, hundreds of thousands of innocent people were dying on her watch, and, despite all of her exhaustive efforts, she could not save them. The rescue efforts at Obsidian Towers had been futile, due to the scarcity of rescue crews and vehicles. The Sith who were roaming the city, killing indiscriminately, were being defeated, but not before they had claimed numerous innocent lives. And the evacuations, as expected, had sent everyone into a panic. Everyone was trying to flee all at once and were stepping on each other's toes, which only slowed down the process and prevented them from escaping.

I wish I could turn back time and prevent all of this from happening. I wish I could teleport everyone to safety. I wish I could freeze all of these ships in mid-air. I wish I was strong enough with the Force to actually be able to do something!

She closed her eyes and began some of her favorite meditative exercises. This was no time to lose her head. Everyone was relying on her for guidance. She needed to maintain the illusion that she was in control. But, looking at the exorbitant amount of information displayed on the holotable, that was impossible.

Maybe that's it, she thought. Maybe I have to admit that I'm not in control. As bad as that sounds, maybe it will somehow make things easier. "I won't lie to you," she said aloud, grabbing everyone's attention. "We've done all we can, but we're not going to be able to save everyone." She noted the shock that rippled throughout the room. To them, it sounded like she had given up, like she was admitting that there was no hope. "You have all gone above and beyond today, and I couldn't be prouder. I know it's hard to accept, but these things happen sometimes. Tragedies occur, at such a large scale, that there comes a point when there's nothing anyone can do to stop it.

"But let's not lose sight of the fact that even more people could have died today if it hadn't been for all of your hard work, and that of every Jedi, soldier, and first responder who helped save lives." She paused as she found herself smiling at all of the Jedi present. "And I know you will all continue to perform at your best. Every second you stay at your posts, another life gets saved. So don't dwell on the lives that have been lost; there will be time for that later. And don't dwell on the losses that are inevitable. Instead, focus on the lives you can still save."

Ahsoka had not anticipated her speech going in this direction. But she could tell that people were responding well to it, so she tried to improvise an inspiring conclusion. "Remember, the Force is always with us, even in death and darkness. Hold onto the light… and life will prevail." That was a little on the nose, but it did the trick. Everyone went back to work with renewed confidence, coordinating with everyone who was helping deal with this crisis.

She had not been wrong; every second they continued to do their duty, every little thing they did, would save a life that otherwise would have been lost. While one life may not seem that great in the grand scheme of things, that life was multiplied by the number of people who contributed. All of those lives would add up quickly.

And that is how she came up with an idea for how to save just a few more lives. She quickly explained it to the other people (and holograms thereof) gathered around the holotable. Afterward, they all looked at her doubtfully. "That's a big ask," Octa Ramis said. "A lot of us may not be up to the challenge."

"And even if they were," added Kenth Hamner, "I cannot imagine we'd be buying more than a few seconds."

"A few more seconds for people to evacuate," Ahsoka pointed out. "A few dozen extra lives saved."

"Is that it?" asked Colonel Diimas Tol-Terro. "Save a few dozen, lose a few hundred thousand? That doesn't sound like it's worth the effort."

Ahsoka snapped her head around to glare at him. "The Force teaches us that every life is sacred. Every life is one in a trillion. I think that is well worth the effort."

Tol-Terro, abashed, raised his hands placatingly. "Of course, Master Tano. I meant no disrespect."

"Good." Returning her attention to the group as a whole, she said, "Get the word out, and let's go."

While everyone set about carrying out Ahsoka's plan, she turned her attention to the hologram of Don Dain. The chancellor was still only half-paying attention to what was going on around him. His three eyes constantly flitted to the holographic representation of the Reliant, which was still on its side in decaying orbit. Soon, it would enter the atmosphere, and any attempt at saving its crew would be pointless.

Ahsoka was not unsympathetic to Dain fearing the loss of his son. She considered Admiral Mo'Ari as more than just a faithful ally; to her, he had been a friend. If he died, she would mourn him greatly.

She gave the holographic Reliant one last look. As she did so, it drifted into one of the red curves that represented the calculated trajectories of falling debris. She followed the curve back to see what was on a potential collision course with the Star Destroyer. It was the severed command tower of another Star Destroyer, close enough that imminent collision was certain. A pang of sadness hit her as it sank in. If Admiral Mo'Ari, Mek Dain, and the crew were not dead yet, then they soon would be.

He was almost there. The escape pod bay was only one section away. Then, Mek would be home free. He focused on that thought as he carefully walked along the steep-sloped corridor. Since leaving the relay room, the pull of Coruscant's gravity, perpendicular to the Reliant's artificial gravity, had been growing progressively stronger. This resulted in the feeling that the ship was slowly rotating onto its side. Now, the resultant force vector was threatening to thwart Mek's balance and make him fall.

The route to the escape pod led him through one of the starboard-facing hangar bays. Upon entering the cavernous room, he was met by a sight that gave him pause. Through the open hangar doors, the surface of Coruscant filled the entire view. Mek had to briefly raise an arm to shield his eyes from the sunlight reflected off of the metallic gray planet. Then the helmet of his EV suit, reacting to the increased amount of light hitting its sensors, automatically polarized itself within seconds, dimming his vision to an acceptable brightness.

From Mek's vantage point, the hangar entrance was in front of him, at the bottom of an approximately thirty-degree slope. If he were to slip and fall, he would tumble down the floor and out of the ship, beginning a very long freefall down to the planet below. That thought made him feel suddenly queasy, and he had to hug the nearby door frame for support as acrophobia set in. Although going through the hangar was the most direct path to the escape pods, the risk of death was too great for Mek.

I'll just go around, he thought. It will take me a couple of extra minutes, but it will be safer. He continued to hug the door frame as he envisioned the layout of the ship, trying to determine the best route before taking his detour.

Without warning, the entire ship shook violently, throwing Mek off his feet. Before he could register what had happened, he hit the deck face-up, bouncing just enough to begin rolling over. Frantically, he waved his arms and legs in an attempt to stop his roll toward death. After a couple seconds, he succeeded in resting face down, except he continued to slide backward across the polished black floor. Gasping with terror, he tried to slow his descent by kicking his feet and slapping his gloved palms on the floor, but to no avail.

Then, the floor vanished beneath him, and he was in free fall through empty space. Mek screamed into his helmet mic, "Help! Someone! Please, help!" Of course, thanks to him, there was no one left to hear his cries. He did not let that stop him, though. "Is anybody out there? I need help! Somebody, tell me what to do!" And then he remembered; he had been told what to do. Lieutenant Nobrian had told him how to operate the maneuvering thrusters on his space suit in case this very thing happened! He could use them to propel himself back onto the Reliant.

With his thumbs, he pressed two buttons on his palms to fire the downward-facing thrusters. Nothing happened immediately, so he continued to hold down the buttons. As he did so, Mek looked up at the Reliant and saw what appeared to be the command tower of a Star Destroyer protruding lopsided from the wedge-shaped hull. He realized that it had come from another destroyed ship, and that it had collided with the Reliant, causing him to fall. Bits of debris were spraying from the impact point like water from a fountain.

A blinking red light inside Mek's helmet, accompanied by a shrill alarm, grabbed his attention. The light indicated that he had used up most of the fuel in his thruster pack. But, upon returning his attention to the still-shrinking Reliant, he could tell that it had not done him any good. The thrusters may have slowed him down, but they were not powerful enough to resist the pull of Coruscant's gravity.

Then, the thrusters failed altogether, and Mek could do nothing but watch as his only hope drifted away.

Have we finally seen the last of Mek Dain? Or will he get lucky?

Thank you for reading this chapter! If you have any comments or questions, please leave them in your reviews or private messages.