* Chapter 8 *

Everything was deathly silent. The storm had raged for only a minute. Even so, Ben Skywalker was hesitant to raise his head, but his concern for Nysilla Zabeth's safety outweighed his fear for what he might see. With one hand still gripping Nysilla's, he used his other arm to prop himself up. And when he opened his eyes, he saw… nothing. For a brief, horrible moment, he feared that he had gone blind. But as his eyes adjusted, he saw that it was merely that his surroundings were dark.

In his position, Ben could only see what was in front of him. There were no fires; they must have all burned out after the buildings collapsed. A thick plume of smoke still covered the area, allowing barely any light to shine through. As a result, it appeared to be nighttime. Everything was blanketed in a thin layer of… snow?

No, not snow—ash.

Ben turned his head in Nysilla's direction to see her lying on her stomach with her face buried in her elbow. She was covered in ash, and Ben supposed that he must be, too. "Nysilla?" he asked, not entirely sure why he was whispering. "Are you okay?"

She remained still, though Ben could hear her whisper back, "Is it over?"

"Yes," he answered with relief. "It's over."

Nysilla stirred, slowly pulling her arm away from her face as she lifted her head. She gasped when she opened her eyes and saw what Ben had seen. Satisfied that she was okay, Ben slowly stood up, shaking and brushing ash off of his back and out of his hair. His movements slowed to a halt as he began to take in the full extent of their surroundings.

Every which way he turned his head, he saw the same things: darkness imitating night, ash drifting through the air like a perverse snowfall, and hills of rubble where majestic skyscrapers had once stood. All was still. All was silent. There was no sign of life anywhere. It was as though Ben and Nysilla had been transported through time and space to the deserted ruins of a dead city on an unknown world, in the middle of winter, in the dead of night.

They both began to cry as grief welled up inside them. So many buildings had been destroyed. They had not merely been architectural marvels and feats of engineering; they had held a special place in the hearts of thousands. People had lived, worked, played, ate, slept, and loved in these buildings. How many thousands of people had just lost their homes and possessions? Their businesses and sources of income? Their families and friends and pets and coworkers? How many thousands had lost their lives?

Dark thoughts intruded into Ben's mind—thoughts of hatred, vengeance, and murder. They're doing it again. The Sith are killing innocent people just because they think they can. I kept telling everyone that they weren't going to stop, but no one listened to me. Now, thousands of people are dead because no one is taking them seriously.

Maybe now that'll change. Maybe now people will wake up and realize what needs to be done. The Sith need to be killed, no matter what it takes.

He and Nysilla held each other for several long moments, crying until they had flushed the grief from their souls. Ben finally found the resolve to pull away from their embrace and said, "Come on. Let's get away from this place." Nysilla responded with a curt nod, wiping the tears from her eyes. Hand in hand, they turned their backs on the ruins of Obsidian Towers and began their long trek through ash and dust.

From the roof of the Jedi Temple, Ahsoka Tano surveyed her surroundings. Far off in the distance, she could see the plume of smoke that marked the site of the explosion that had claimed Obsidian Towers. A fresh pang of sadness hit her. She had spent the past hour staring at a hologram of that smoke; this was her first time seeing it in person. It made the tragedy all the more real to her.

But now was not the time to mourn. The attack was not over yet. Disabled and destroyed ships were still falling from the sky, crashing into Coruscant's populous surface. Now was the time to act.

Through her comlink, Ahsoka heard someone report, "All Jedi have checked in. We're ready, Master Tano."

"Good," she responded. "Patch me through to everyone." A second later, a soft chirp indicated that every Jedi on Coruscant with an active comlink could now hear her. "This is Master Tano. We may not be able to stop these ships from crashing, but we can slow them down long enough to save some extra lives. Focus on the largest piece of debris you can find. No matter how heavy it is, no matter how hard it gets, do not give up. Remember, size does not matter." She had briefly considered quoting Master Yoda verbatim but decided that the humor of it would have been inappropriate for this situation.

Nearly every other Jedi in the temple was gathered around Ahsoka, ready to enact her plan. She scanned the skies above them, looking for a piece of falling debris. When she found one, it turned out to be a mostly intact Star Destroyer pointed straight down. "There!" she shouted, indicating it to her fellow Jedi. "On the count of three! One… two… three!" On three, she reached out toward the plummeting ship with the Force. She felt everyone around her do the same, as well as some Jedi in other parts of the city. As one, the Jedi touched the massive starship with their combined power.

Even so, Ahsoka was nearly knocked over as she felt the sheer size and weight of the Star Destroyer. It was orders of magnitude greater than anything she had ever tried to move before. It felt like she was trying to stop it by holding up a sheet of flimsiplast. The Star Destroyer just plowed through every attempt she made to slow it down. Still, she was determined to succeed. "Don't give up!" she shouted, urging her fellow Jedi on.

As she constantly redoubled her focus, she felt her strength draining. Through the Force, she was aware that the other Jedi were similarly becoming exhausted. One Jedi, a Padawan, fainted from overexertion. That was one less person to share the load with. This isn't working, Ahsoka thought to herself. It's too big.

Size matters not. Yoda's words echoed in her mind. In that moment, she found them hard to believe. How could it be possible to move a Star Destroyer when moving anything larger than a starfighter proved to be a challenge? Of course, Ahsoka could remember a time when even that seemed impossible. She thought back to her lessons as a Padawan, trying to remember how she had learned to overcome such large weights.

"Look past its weight," she said aloud, more to herself than to the other Jedi. "Focus on the individual atoms. Everything, from the smallest insect to the largest mountain, is made from the same particles. In that regard, the two are not so different. The Force flows through everything indiscriminately."

Ahsoka was surprised to find that following her own advice worked. Instead of thinking about how large the Star Destroyer was, she broke it down into smaller pieces and focused on them. Then, she broke those pieces down into even smaller pieces. The whole must have been greater than the sum of its parts, for the ship began to feel lighter. Other Jedi were following her advice, as well, finding similar success. Soon, the Star Destroyer was reduced to a much more manageable size. It was still too heavy to stop completely, but Ahsoka could feel its velocity decrease ever so slightly.

It was not much, but it was enough. The ship would still crash, but a few seconds later than anticipated. And while that did not seem like a long time, Ahsoka believed that those precious few seconds meant the difference between life and death for at least a few dozen Coruscanti. For that reason, she could honestly say that this day had not been a total failure.

Ahsoka's advice had proven invaluable, as always. Leia Organa-Solo stood on the roof of the hospital, focusing her power on the falling Star Destroyer. As she concentrated on the smallest pieces of metal, she was able to temporarily forget the horrors of that day. The Sith were pushed from her mind, as were the deaths that they had caused.

But then reality came flooding back into her as she felt a strong jolt from the Star Destroyer—physically, as well as through the Force. The ship had crashed less than ten kilometers from the hospital, causing the building to shake slightly. Her eyes popped open as she managed to maintain her balance… and immediately wished that they had not. The Star Destroyer plunged into Coruscant's surface like a giant dagger, crushing everything—and everyone—directly in its path. Towering skyscrapers were tipped over by the sinking ship, causing a domino effect that knocked over at least a dozen other buildings.

Even though it had felt lighter to Leia and the other Jedi, the Star Destroyer was, in reality, as massive as ever; enough so that the structure holding up the multi-level city was not strong enough to resist it. She watched with horror as the ship sank further and further into the ground, piercing layer after layer until it had vanished from sight. Even after that, Leia could tell that it had not yet completed its descent until the shrill screeching of metal-on-metal had died down.

All that could be heard now were hundreds of screams being carried by the wind from the direction of the jagged sinkhole left by the immense Star Destroyer, mingled with the beating of Leia's heart. Her blood ran cold as she imagined what the innocent Coruscanti must have experienced in their final moments.

Those on the surface would likely have first seen the shadow pass over them as something blocked out the sun. They would have looked up out of curiosity, only to see the gigantic ship plunging straight down toward them. Those directly in its path would have spent their last few seconds in terror before being crushed to death. Those who were nearby would have tried to run, only to be swallowed up by the sinkhole. And what about those who were in the lower levels of Coruscant? No doubt they would have been alerted by the sounds and tremors caused by the scraping of metal. But they would not have known what to make of it until they saw the Star Destroyer burst down through the ceiling. And by then, it would have been too late. They probably would not have even seen their deaths coming. One second, everything was fine—the next… nothing.

Leia's heart ached for the people's suffering. She felt every death through the Force like being hit by a blaster bolt. The collective fear radiating from the crash site was like slowly being encased in ice. The heartbreak was paralyzing. And yet, she could not take a moment to mourn. More debris was falling from the sky, threatening to steal even more lives unless she and the other Jedi slowed it down. She reached out for the next largest ship, focusing on its components hard enough to dispel her pain.

To his surprise, Mek Dain did not feel like he was falling. In the upper atmosphere, there was nothing to push back against his weight. And, as he looked down, the surface of Coruscant did not appear to be growing closer. For all he knew, he could have been hovering at a stationary point, where he would remain forever until a ship came along to rescue him. Perhaps the thrusters on his spacesuit had succeeded in slowing him down to a complete stop. Maybe he was not about to die, after all.

But he knew in his heart that that was only wishful thinking. He was going to die; it was only a matter of how quick or painful it would be. If his velocity was high enough, he would burn up as he fell through the atmosphere. His death would come soon, but it would be long and agonizing. If not, he would continue to fall for several minutes until he hit the surface with a violent and bloody impact. In that case, his death would be delayed considerably, but it would be quick and painless—he hoped.

As Mek waited for his inevitable demise, he took a moment to reflect on the events that had led to this point. There had been a time when he believed in the New Republic and, later, the Galactic Alliance. He had looked up to his father and wanted to follow in his footsteps. But reality had turned out not to live up to his perception. As he made his way through the military, he had begun to see the flaws in the system, the corruption, the inadequacy of the Jedi. And no matter how hard he worked, he could never be able to please his father. All of the time and effort he had spent in service of the Alliance had amounted to nothing.

Somehow, the Sith had found out about his misgivings and approached him with an offer. If he helped them conquer the galaxy, they would make him the public face of their power. He would be the new chancellor, both in name and in practice. All he had to do was turn into a double agent for the Sith, supplying them with information, working the system in their favor, and carrying out whatever tasks they required of him. Their promises had made the offer too good to refuse.

Mek now saw that it had also been too good to be true. The Sith had never appreciated him for his true value; they had only seen him as a tool. Once he had given them what they wanted, they had deemed him expendable. Thus, Darth Hatus had refused to alter the attack on Coruscant so that Mek would be out of harm's way. Which led to this moment, falling toward Coruscant, facing certain death because of the Sith's treachery.

The worst part was, he would never reach his full potential. Everything he had done throughout his life had been for the sole purpose of rising to the top of the ladder. And he had very nearly reached it, only to have the final rung snap beneath his feet. All of his training, all of his service, all of his accomplishments had now been thoroughly and utterly wasted.

Within moments, he began to feel his body sway, as though he were standing against a moderate wind. Gradually, the wind increased until he was being buffeted by a hurricane-force gale that sent him tumbling through the air. That is when the gravity—literal gravity—of his situation truly hit him, and he became gripped with fear. It was so overwhelming that he did not even think to scream. He wanted to faint; he was breathing so heavily that he could feel his brain being deprived of oxygen. But the sensors in his blasted EV suit picked up on it and increased the oxygen supply to make sure he remained conscious.

The sensors also picked up a dramatic temperature increase on the exterior of the suit. Alarms blared in Mek's ears, though he did not need them; he could feel the suit getting warmer. The heat burned the outer coating of his suit and fried the electronics, but it never grew hot enough to incinerate him completely. It appeared that Mek would die from impact with the ground, after all.

His body tumbled slowly enough that his brain was able to register what he was seeing. He had not been falling straight down, as he had believed, but at an angle. The cityscape below him, which had initially appeared solitary, was now beginning to inch to the side. At the same time, the buildings appeared to stretch vertically toward him. The ground grew noticeably closer with each complete rotation of his body, and small details, such as airspeeders and people, began to resolve themselves. The tallest skyscrapers began to stretch past him, their rows of windows zipping by. That is when Mek's terror reached its apex, and he finally remembered to scream as he saw the side of one tower rushing toward him.

Splat!

He never even felt the impact; the cells in his brain ruptured before his nerve impulses reached it. It also meant that he never felt the shards of his shattered helmet lodge themselves in his head. Nor did he feel his bones splinter into hundreds of pieces and shred through his organs. Nor did he feel his blood erupt from every orifice in his body and fill his EV suit like a bladder. Nor did he feel what was left of his mangled body fall down the side of the tower and land on the duracrete pavement below, frightening passersby who were going about their day.

Mek Dain did not die in agonizing pain, but with overwhelming fear.

The Reliant skimmed low over the surface of Coruscant like a sixteen-hundred-meter-long arrowhead. Due to air resistance, combined with being hit by the severed command tower of another Star Destroyer, it had rotated upside-down as it fell. The debris from the other ship had become dislodged in the atmosphere, tumbling through the air to land on top of several buildings—and their occupants—without warning.

The next casualty of the Reliant's descent was the top of a skyscraper, which was sheared off as the Star Destroyer's command tower passed through it. Four more skyscrapers were decapitated and five were knocked over entirely as the Reliant dropped lower. After that, it glided into a large district comprised almost entirely of low-rise buildings. The people there were alarmed to see the massive starship bearing down on them at seemingly impossible speed. But, for most of them, it was too late to save themselves.

With a loud crash! and the shrill squealing of metal scraping against metal, the Reliant skidded across the ground, plowing through the buildings. It had landed on its head, with the command tower and the tip of the prow the only parts of the ship touching the ground. Unfortunately, that meant there was less friction to slow down the gargantuan wreck. By the time it had finally slid to a halt, the entire command tower had been sheared away and a six-kilometer-long trail of death and destruction scarred the cityscape.

Don Dain watched the crash play out on the holotable in his emergency bunker. He felt a small jolt every time the Reliant had hit a skyscraper during its descent. Then the impact with and subsequent slide across the surface had been accompanied by pain, as though the ship were a dagger carving through his own flesh. His body went rigid in his chair for several seconds; he could neither move nor breathe nor avert his gaze until the ship that had been carrying his son went deathly still.

Every guard, aide, and official in the room was silently watching the holofootage, transfixed by the catastrophe. Then, after a few seconds, all eyes turned to Dain, their faces conveying shock, grief, and pity. He did not seem to notice them, though; he simply stared at the hologram with an expression of despair.

Finally, he broke the silence with a whisper. "My son. They killed my son." He slumped forward in his chair and placed a hand over his three closed eyestalks. For a long moment, he sat motionless, and some of the people in the room began to wonder if the old Gran had died out of grief. They all jumped when he suddenly slammed his fist down on the arm of his chair and exclaimed, "Those Sith bastards! They've killed my son!"

Most beings found it difficult to read Gran facial expressions, so no one was quite sure what Dain was feeling. His breath came out ragged with the heaving of his chest, his tear-glazed eyes stared off into space, and his lips were pulled back, baring his teeth as his mouth hung open. His next words came out low and dark: "They will pay for this. They will all pay for this."

After another minute of staring at the grieving chancellor, everyone slowly returned to their duties, leaving him to let his thoughts simmer. They killed my son, he silently repeated to himself. They've gone too far, this time. We will kill every last Sith in his name. It took a while for him to realize that he had been thinking only of Mek and not of the thousands of other victims claimed by this catastrophe. "We will have justice for them all," he muttered, as though saying it aloud would make up for not thinking of them in the first place.

Dain cursed the Sith. He cursed Darth Hatus. Above all, he cursed whoever had helped the Sith carry out this attack. For there could be no doubt that someone in the Alliance had helped them infiltrate Coruscant, place a bomb in Obsidian Towers, and sabotage the defense fleet. There is a traitor in our midst, and they're responsible for my son's death. I will hunt them down and make them suffer.

An alarm sounded from the holotable, interrupting Dain's train of thought. Several ships had just dropped out of hyperspace near Coruscant. For a tense moment, he feared that a Sith fleet had arrived to finish everyone off. But a closer examination of the ships showed that they were Alliance Star Destroyers. They were the reinforcements that had been called shortly after the attack began. Everyone in the bunker let out sighs of relief, glad to see that help had arrived.

Dain was the only one who was not pleased. All he could think was, They should have gotten here sooner.

Ben and Nysilla trudged through the thick layer of dust and ash that had settled on the pavement. They both coughed periodically as they breathed in the dust-polluted air, although Ben noticed that Nysilla seemed to be coughing more than he was. Concerned that she was getting sick, he was more determined than ever to get her to safety. She held his hand, relying on his Jedi senses to guide them through the darkness. Ben could only hope that he was not leading them astray. Amid all the destroyed buildings, there were no landmarks to indicate whether they were going in the right direction.

And then they saw the light—a single spotlight shining through the dark haze. Nysilla gasped in hopeful surprise. "Hello?" she asked. "Is so—" She abruptly broke into a coughing fit, cutting off her words. Ben gently rubbed her back until her coughing had died down.

The source of the light drew closer, and they could see that it was actually two lights positioned close together. A few seconds later, they could make out a figure wearing a high-visibility jumpsuit and a helmet with two headlamps mounted on either side. It was a Coruscant Fire and Rescue worker. Catching sight of them, the person jogged up to them and surveyed them up and down. "Are either of you hurt?" asked a female voice emanating through the helmet's speakers.

Ben and Nysilla both shook their heads. "No," Ben answered, "But I think Nysilla's breathed in something bad. She's been coughing a lot."

The firefighter nodded her head. "Whatever caused this explosion, it's made the air toxic. We need to get you both out of here so you can get checked out." She took Ben by the arm and led both him and Nysilla away. "Where did you come from?"

"Obsidian Towers," Nysilla responded. "I was trapped under some rubble, but Ben got me out just before the towers…" She trailed off, finding that she could not yet speak of the tragedy that had befallen her workplace.

"You were lucky," the firefighter commented. "That was ground zero of the explosion. From what we can tell, very few people made it out of there."

"What about the other buildings?" asked Ben. "Were there any survivors?"

"Some. Mostly from the buildings further away from the epicenter. We had only cleared about half of the buildings when the groundquake happened. After that, most of them collapsed. We're going through the surviving structures now to see if we can find anyone else."

The firefighter spoke with an air of confidence, but Ben could sense that her mind was in deep turmoil. He could not blame her, though; he doubted she had ever had to deal with a disaster of this magnitude. For that matter, he doubted anyone had. Everyone was doing the best they could under extraordinary circumstances. "Thank you," he said, "for everything you've done. You and your people are really brave."

If his senses were anything to go by, he could tell that his praise had caught the firefighter off-guard. Her only visible reaction was to nod her helmeted head toward him and reply, "We're just doing our duty." Ben could sense in her just a hint of pride and a modicum of comfort, but they were nearly overwhelmed by a feeling of inadequacy. She was still dwelling on the lives she had been unable to save.

She led Ben and Nysilla to a square that appeared to be a staging area for Fire and Rescue. Three buildings surrounding the square were still standing, and the rescue workers were in the process of extracting civilians who had been trapped inside. Several truckspeeders, similar to the ones Ben had seen earlier, were parked in front of the buildings, and two large airspeeders sat in the center of the square. Civilians were being loaded onto them, undoubtedly for transport to safety.

"Chief Jetzu!" called a voice. Another rescue worker was approaching the one who had found Ben and Nysilla. "The speeders are almost at capacity. We're going to have to send them out and have them come back for the rest of the survivors."

"All right," responded the firefighter. She then gestured to Ben and Nysilla. "These two were at Obsidian Towers when it fell. Make sure they're on the first speeder out of here and get them looked at quickly."

"Yes, ma'am." The worker beckoned the young couple with his arm and said, "This way."

Ben and Nysilla obeyed and were guided to one of the airspeeders. They sat next to each other on one of the bench seats, surrounded by other survivors. Ben let out a sigh of relief as he sat down and let his legs rest. He wondered how long he had been walking and running. A second later, the speeder rose into the air and flew over the street.

From up close, Ben could more clearly see the emotional state of the civilians. They, too, were covered in ash and dust, and many of them were emitting sickly coughs. Several of them were crying for a loved one who was either dead or still trapped, and some of the others were attempting to comfort one another to no avail. Everyone appeared haggard and somber, their dirty faces streaked with tears. There was one frightened child among them—a Theelin boy of about five or six years with pale, speckled skin and bright green hair, both of which were marred by soot. He was noticeably the only Theelin in the group, which begged the question, what had happened to his family?

Ben should have felt relieved to see these people alive, yet he could find no comfort in seeing the survivors in such a sorry state. The dead were not the only victims of this attack. In fact, he could not help but wonder if they had not gotten off easy. Their suffering was over, but the living would be forced to go on in a world without the people they loved.

He tried to imagine what it would feel like to go to bed that night, knowing that he could never share it with his spouse again. Or to be told that he would never see his mommy and daddy again and be sent to live with a stranger. Or to have to live in a house with a child's fully furnished bedroom but no child to play in it. Those thoughts served only to fuel Ben's ire toward the Sith.

The speeder rocked suddenly and began to descend as smoke rose from the engine compartment. Before anyone could question what had happened, the speeder slammed into the ground, throwing everyone out of their seats. Many of the civilians were ejected out of the speeder entirely, flying through the air and landing painfully on the duracrete pavement. Ben, however, managed to hold on to his seat firmly enough to remain in the speeder, and he was relieved to see that Nysilla had landed on another cushioned seat.

It took him a moment to realize that they were all being illuminated. He looked toward the source of the light and was forced to shield his eyes against the bright sunlight streaming directly into his face. Sunlight! Ben did not believe he had ever been happier to see the sun. They had made it out of the blast radius, leaving the smoke and ruin behind them! They had survived!

Pew!

Ben threw himself to the floor as a blaster bolt whizzed past his face. He heard more blasterfire followed by a clipped scream. One of the civilians, a female Cerean, dropped next to him, a scorched hole in her right lung. She had been shot. She had survived a devastating explosion only to be killed by a blaster. Ben's blood began to boil as a terrible suspicion took hold in his mind.

He knelt behind the driver's seat and looked out the forward viewport, holding up a hand to block the rays of sunlight radiating into his eyes. And then he saw them; three Sith warriors firing at the downed speeder with their ax-rifles.

And that's the end of Mek Dain! He actually lasted longer than I previously thought he would. My previous plan was to have him blown out into space in Chapter Three or Four when some of the Reliant's crew mutinied, revealing themselves to be working for the Sith. It wasn't until I actually started writing Book Four that I abandoned that idea and came up with a new storyline for Mek. I'm very pleased with how it turned out—especially how it ended!

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