* Chapter 9 *

The Sith had been waiting for them. That was the only explanation. They had somehow known what route the airspeeder would take to ferry survivors away from the blast area and waited to pick them off. Haven't these people suffered enough? Ben Skywalker thought angrily. They've already been through hell, survived an explosion, lost people they love. But that had not been enough for the Sith, apparently. The whole three-part attack on Coruscant had clearly been designed to terrorize or kill as many people as possible.

A blood-curdling scream startled Ben from behind. He whirled around, fearing that one of the civilians had been shot and was in agony. It was the young Theelin boy, unharmed but terrified, wailing at the top of his lungs. Seeing the child in this state broke Ben's heart as much as it stoked his hatred of the Sith. Nysilla Zabeth, who was lying on the floor of the crashed speeder, wrapped her arms protectively around the boy and held him close.

Well, they've made their point, Ben thought. They've killed enough people already. They're not going to kill anyone else—not if I can help it. Drawing strength and courage from his burning desire to protect the woman he loved, he ignited his lightsaber and leapt onto the hood of the crashed speeder. Immediately, he began waving the bright blue blade back and forth in front of him, batting incoming blaster bolts away from the civilians.

The three Sith warriors paused for a split second while their minds registered the new foe who had just cropped up. Then, one of them roared, "Jedi!" and they all focused their fire on Ben. As they did so, they spread out to take cover behind the nearest buildings—one to the left and two to the right. Ben redirected some of their shots back at them, but the energy blades on their ax-rifles were positioned vertically, forming a small shield that protected the Sith from the deflected bolts. He had never seen those weapons in that configuration before, and he found it irritating.

Then, responding to a sudden sense of danger, Ben ducked just before a blaster bolt singed the air where his head had been. It had not come from any of the three Sith; it had come from above. He looked up in the general direction of the shot and saw another Sith leaning out a window on one of the upper stories of a nearby building on the left side of the street, pointing an ax-rifle at him.

"Sniper!" Ben shouted to the civilians. "Take cover!" He did not bother to turn around and make sure they complied. Instead, he focused on catching the sniper's shots with his lightsaber. Suddenly, a shot came at him at a downward angle from his right; there was a second sniper in the building across from the first sniper's nest. Now Ben was fending off blasterfire from four directions.

He growled in increasing frustration and anger at the murderous Sith. "I am sick of these monsters!" he ground out. For several seconds, he struggled against the torrent of blasterfire until it became too overwhelming. When at last he lost his nerve, he ducked behind the speeder, waiting to recover his stamina. As he crouched there, he saw that most of the civilians, including Nysilla and the Theelin boy, had taken cover in the recesses of the nearest buildings. Four of them had not made it and lay dead in the street.

Anger roiled up within Ben once more. Peeking out over the lip of the speeder, he spied one of the Sith snipers waiting for a good shot. Reaching out with the Force, Ben gripped the sniper and yanked them out the window. The Sith screamed until they hit the pavement with a loud thud! The three Sith on the ground momentarily ceased firing to look in the direction of the noise. In that time, Ben used the Force to grab the other sniper and pull them out the window. Only, this time, he held onto the sniper and slammed them down on top of the lone Sith at the base of the building.

In response, the remaining two Sith turned their heads again to see what had happened. That is when Ben leapt back onto the hood of the speeder, threw his ignited lightsaber like a boomerang, and used the Force to guide the spinning blade toward the Sith. One of them saw the attack coming and threw themself to the ground, but the other was not so quick. The blue blade slashed across their chest and their body fell on top of their companion.

Ben summoned his lightsaber back into his hand and glanced in the direction of the Sith onto whom he had thrown one of the snipers. Surprisingly, the Sith had survived and was stumbling to their feet, clearly aching from the impact. Before they could have a chance to attack again, Ben leapt toward them, using the Force to propel himself across the distance between them. As he landed, he thrust his saber into the Sith's chest. The warrior gasped and stared at Ben in shock. Then her body went limp, and Ben pulled out his weapon to allow her to fall dead to the ground.

From behind him, a gruff male voice shouted, "Skywalker!"

Ben froze, partly due to hearing his name, partly due to the familiarity of the voice. He had heard that voice—or, at least, an eerily similar voice—many times on Dromund Kaas, barking out orders and insults. He turned around to face the final surviving Sith, who had shrugged his compatriot's body off of himself and stood to face the Jedi. The Sith removed his helmet so that Ben could see his face.

It was Vonar Dykes, the Sith general who had been in charge of the Dromund Kaas base. For a second, Ben was too stunned to move. Standing before him was the Sith who had been responsible for nearly every atrocity committed in that accursed slave camp, who had condoned the brutal enslavement of thousands of innocent lives, and who had personally taken an electrowhip to Ben's back on the night of his arrival.

No, surely it could not be Dykes. It had to be a hallucination. Not even the Force would be cruel enough to bring Ben back into the hands of his torturer. It was so incomprehensible that he was struck dumb, unable to move, speak, or react in any way. So when Dykes quickly tossed a round, metal object in his direction, it took Ben a second to recognize it as a thermal detonator. And it took him another second to defend himself, using the Force to halt the grenade in midair. It exploded about four or five meters in front of him, and Ben threw himself onto his back to avoid the flames.

Even with his eyes squeezed shut, he could still see a bright flash through his eyelids, filling his vision with red. Only after the color had dissipated did he deem it safe to open his eyes. The first thing he saw was a cloud of dark smoke in front of him where the grenade had detonated. Suddenly, a muscular, black-armored figure burst through the smoke, roaring with rage and holding an ax-rifle over his left shoulder.

Caught entirely off-guard, Ben barely managed to bring his lightsaber up in time to defend himself. Dykes brought his ax-rifle down over the center of the young Jedi's chest, only to have the energy blade slide off to the side as it made contact with his opponent's blade. Before Ben could counterattack, the Sith swung his ax-rifle down over Ben's chest, knocking his lightsaber aside. As the rifle completed its arc, he raised his foot and prepared to stomp on his enemy's knee.

Realizing how vulnerable he was, Ben rolled to the side away from Dykes and extended his arms and legs at just the right moment to push himself into a kneeling position. Then, in one fluid movement, he stood up, darted forward, and swung his lightsaber at the Sith, forcing him onto the defensive. Dykes brought up his rifle to block the attack. The two blades bounced harmlessly off of one another, and Ben did not waste any time following up with another blow, which was blocked, as well. He got in a few more swings before Dykes dodged one of them and countered with a swing of his ax. Once again, it was Ben who was on the defensive.

From there, Dykes dominated the fight, and only Ben's Force intuition and quick reflexes protected him from the Sith's brute strength. Occasionally, he managed to sneak in a few attacks, but they were meager by comparison. Besides, he was still reeling from the shock of coming face-to-face with the former slave warden, which muddled his concentration. Every time he saw Dyke's face, he flashed back to a memory of Dromund Kaas. Every time their energy blades clashed, he felt the ghost of a lash from an electrowhip. Ben's mind was stuck in the horrors of the past rather than the urgency of the present.

After a long minute of intense fighting, both combatants slowed down to replenish their energy. Their blades met once more, but neither Ben nor Dykes pulled away from each other. Instead, they pushed their weapons against each other in a contest of strength.

"Scum!" Dykes spat. "You destroyed everything! I'll make you pay for what you did!" He was clearly referring to how Ben had called the Galactic Alliance to Dromund Kaas, resulting in the destruction of the base. Dykes had undoubtedly been held responsible and punished by his Sith Masters, and now he had been presented with an opportunity for revenge.

But Ben had done nothing wrong. He had saved people from the Sith. Dykes, on the other hand, had held innocent people against their will, forced them into hard labor, and tortured them. He deserved to be punished. No, he deserved worse than that; he deserved death. He should have died on Dromund Kaas. He should have been executed for his crimes. But instead, the Jedi had allowed him to live, giving him the opportunity to escape from prison and carry out this heinous attack.

Just another way the Jedi failed, Ben mused. I won't make the same mistake. He allowed that thought to fill him, pushing his fear of Dykes deep down into the recesses of his mind. Setting his face into a determined expression, he responded to his adversary, "I was about to say the same thing to you!" With a loud grunt, he drew back his left hand and then thrust it forward, using the Force to launch Dykes backward. The Sith reacted quickly, slamming one of the blades on his ax-rifle into the pavement to use as a plow. Although it prevented him from flying through the air, he still slid back several meters before grinding to a stop. By then, the young Jedi was on him.

The tables had turned. Ben had suddenly found the courage to face down his former abuser and was raining blows down upon him, fueled by righteous fury and a desire for justice. It did not take long for Dykes to realize that his opponent no longer feared him, and concern crept into his expression.

Good, Ben thought, now he knows what it's like to be afraid, to be powerless. As the Sith's confidence wavered, Ben's confidence grew. His thrusts became more precise, his parries quicker, his swings stronger. Dykes was barely able to keep up with the flurry of attacks. Even with his mild Force sensitivity, he found himself increasingly outmatched. His anxiety showed in both his face and his movements, which filled Ben with immense satisfaction.

He was wearing Dykes down; that much was clear. Their battle would be over soon, and Ben would finally exact revenge for himself and all of the other people who had been imprisoned on Dromund Kaas. Lending every ounce of strength he could to his arms, he batted Dykes' ax-rifle aside, leaving his enemy wide open for the killing blow. With a yell of triumph, Ben raised his lightsaber, threw his entire body at the Sith…

…and tumbled to the ground as Dykes swung his right arm at him and shoved him roughly aside. Disoriented by the sudden turn of the tide, Ben's grip on his lightsaber loosened. As he hit the ground hard, the weapon leapt out of his hand and bounded across the pavement. He reached out with the Force to call the hilt back into his outstretched palm, but then a sudden and urgent warning sense flooded his mind: Roll!

Ben heeded the Force's warning and rolled away from his lightsaber a split second before Dykes' ax-rifle slammed into the duracrete right where his shoulder had been. Once he was on his back again, he attempted to summon the weapon again, but he was forced to roll away again to narrowly avoid losing his arm. After that, he decided it was fruitless to try for his lightsaber a third time, so he would have to get creative in saving himself.

For a brief moment, the blade of Dykes' rifle was stuck in the ground, so he could not attack with it until he had pulled it out. That gave Ben only an instant of opportunity to strike back with whatever means were available to him. He kicked out with his right foot and caught Dykes square in the knee. It was not strong enough to injure him, but it was enough to momentarily stun him, giving Ben an opening for another kick, and then another after that. Putting a little bit more strength into each successive kick, he finally felt something shift in his opponent's leg. Dykes let out a wounded yell, and Ben thought that he had perhaps succeeded in incapacitating him.

But that was only wishful thinking. Dykes must have had a high tolerance for pain, for he recovered quicker than expected. He wrenched his ax-rifle out of the ground and began to raise it. Expecting another blow from above, Ben rolled to the left once more. However, rather than swing his rifle up over his head, Dykes swung it downward across the ground. Caught off-guard by the change in tactics, Ben did not react in time to avoid the blow.

An agonized scream escaped from his lungs as he felt a sharp, searing pain in his right cheek. The energy blade must have glanced across it, burning off a layer of skin. For a moment, Ben was paralyzed; the pain was so intense that it overwhelmed his senses. When he finally forced his eyes to open, Dykes was standing over him with a feral expression on his face. Swiftly, he raised his ax-rifle over his head. Ben saw the blow coming, but he could not bring himself to move. All he could do was—

The sound of blasterfire cut through the air, and Dykes jerked violently four times before unexpectedly pitching forward. Ben only saw the Sith's shocked face for a split second before it fell out of sight and collided with the pavement beside him. For a few seconds, red blaster bolts continued to whiz past above Ben's face. When the shooting stopped, he found that he had regained the ability to move. He pushed himself up into a sitting position and turned his head to see Vonar Dykes' prone body lying on the ground. Four scorch marks pocked his back, presumably from the blasterfire.

When Ben looked to see where the shots had come from, he was surprised to see Nysilla standing next to one of the fallen Sith, pointing an ax-rifle in the direction of where Dykes had been standing. The rifle shook violently in her grip, her eyes bulged in their sockets, and her chest heaved rapidly. For a moment, Ben simply sat and stared at her, mouth agape. He had never seen her commit any act of violence—he had never even dreamt of it. And here she had just shot a sentient being in the back. She saved me, he told himself. She did what she had to do.

Ben folded his legs underneath himself and began to stand up, but then a wave of nausea knocked him back down. He had almost forgotten about his injured cheek in his shock over what had just happened. The pain had dulled somewhat, but the sensation in his cheek was unnatural enough to make him feel sick. A moment later, Nysilla was leaning over him, eyebrows arched in concern. She took his hand in hers, and he could feel that she was trembling.

"Are you okay?" she asked shakily.

Ben did not feel well enough to nod his head, so he simply replied, "Yeah." It came out almost like a moan. "You saved me."

Nysilla shook her head vigorously. "It was nothing. Hold still." She cupped both of her hands behind his head and stared at his cheek, examining his wound.

"It's not nothing," Ben responded. "You saved my life." Fighting through the pain, he forced himself to smile. "Thank you."

Her mouth twitched as though she was trying to return his smile, but the circumstances would not allow it. She said, "You saved me first—twice."

That was true, although it did not make her actions any less heroic. Ben tried to say as much, but the words came out as an unintelligible groan as the pain in his cheek flared up.

Nysilla shushed him and ran a hand comfortingly through his hair. "It's okay. You're going to be okay." Her next words were drowned out by the sound of an airspeeder landing nearby. But they could easily be read on her lips: I love you. As though to confirm this, she bent over and planted her lips on Ben's.

The pleasantness of her kiss stayed with Ben as he drifted out of consciousness.

Another Star Destroyer sank into Coruscant's atmosphere, destined to crash into the surface of the planet. The denizens of the city below looked up in horror as they saw the massive shipwreck slowly inch closer. Most of them hurried to find the nearest transport that would take them away from the projected crash site. Others simply ran. And a small percentage of them stood stock still, accepting their inevitable deaths.

Within a few minutes however, their horror turned into curiosity as, one at a time, they began to point out that the Star Destroyer appeared to be slowing down. Curiosity gave way to astonishment when it became apparent that the ship had halted in midair. And astonishment gave way to exaltation as the ship began to reverse course, floating back into space. The people were so relieved that few of them questioned their mysterious change in fortune.

As a matter of fact, the ship was being pulled by the tractor beams of several Alliance Star Destroyers. They were among the reinforcements that had been summoned from other nearby planets to replace the ships that were lost in the attack on Coruscant. Since they had arrived, the ships had been towing large debris away from the planet's gravity well. In addition, a fleet of smaller rescue craft had begun evacuating the surviving ships.

The status of the operation was being displayed above the holotable in the Jedi Temple Tactical Operations Center. Holographic representations of the rescue craft docked with the wreckage of various Star Destroyers and civilian vessels, while the newly arrived capital ships were arrayed above the largest descending wrecks, which had begun to rise away from the surface of the table.

Everyone in the room had been watching attentively as, one by one, the red curves and dots that denoted the trajectories and projected impact sites of falling debris disappeared. Now there was only one curve left, representing the last Star Destroyer that had fallen from orbit. As it was caught by the tractor beams of the other ships, the arc of the curve shortened and the red circle at the end of it grew smaller until it was directly underneath the halted ship.

Then, as the ship began to ascend, the straight line connecting it to the circle below stretched into a new curve that arced in the direction in which the ship was being pulled. The ship rose higher and higher, and both the length of the curve and the diameter of the circle grew, showing what would happen if the tractor beams failed and gravity regained its control over the immense Star Destroyer. For a few tense moments, everyone watched with bated breath as the potential for destruction grew.

Finally, the last vestiges of red vanished from the hologram. The room let out a collective sigh, and several of the Jedi present murmured amongst themselves, undoubtedly expressing their relief. At the holotable, Master Octa Ramis spoke aloud what everyone was thinking. "That's the last of it. It's over."

"Not quite." Kenth Hamner pointed out, "The debris in orbit still poses a threat to ships entering or leaving Coruscant. We'll have to get rid of it, somehow."

Ahsoka Tano nodded her head in agreement. "That's true, but we should still be grateful that so many lives have been saved."

"Indeed," agreed the hologram of Master Cilghal, broadcasting from the emergency medical complex that had been set up near Obsidian Towers. "On that note, I am pleased to report that we have received word that Fire and Rescue have finished clearing all of the remaining buildings. The survivors are being moved out of the area as we speak."

Ahsoka smiled for what felt like the first time in ages. "We're all very glad to hear that."

"Yes, it is good news." Cilghal's bulbous Mon Calamari eyes drooped, making her appear sorrowful. Ahsoka's short-lived smile faded; she could tell that there was bad news coming. After a moment's hesitation, Cilghal continued, "But I am afraid that is the extent of it. I regret to inform you that Chief Jetzu has died in the line of duty. A building collapsed on her while she was attempting to rescue a group of survivors."

Silence descended upon the room as the statement sank in. Ahsoka squeezed her eyes shut and bowed her head mournfully. In the short time she had known Omaya Jetzu, Ahsoka had grown to greatly admire the fire chief. She had worked tirelessly to save as many lives as she could, even when she knew the odds were against her. In the end, she had given her life in pursuit of that goal.

Too many lives have been lost today, Ahsoka lamented. Her attention turned to the hologram of Chancellor Don Dain. A sullen expression had been etched onto his face ever since she and the other Jedi had returned from their attempt to slow down the falling debris. It did not take Force sensitivity to know that the death of his son weighed heavily upon his mind. Being a Jedi, Ahsoka could sense both his grief for Mek and his icy desire for vengeance.

She did not blame him. To lose a son in such a violent manner was almost inconceivable to her. She had watched others suffer through that experience—namely Han and Leia Organa-Solo—and observed their various reactions. Some grieved openly, others silently. Some became depressed and withdrawn, others angry and obsessed. Dain currently fit into the first category, although Ahsoka suspected that he would lean toward the second soon enough.

There was a flicker of blue light as the hologram of another person appeared before the holotable. It was Captain Gollayawo of the Coruscant police force. He opened his mouth to speak, and then hesitated as he noticed the sorrowful expressions on everyone's faces. Ahsoka decided to urge him on, if only to break the silence. "Captain Gollayawo, do you have something to report?"

The Lutrillian nodded his head. "I do, Master Tano. I wanted to let everyone know that we have killed or apprehended every reported Sith on the planet, and there have been no other sightings in the past half-hour. It appears that we've taken care of them all."

"Are you sure about that?" asked Kenth. "There could be more Sith waiting to attack."

"It's possible," Gollayawo admitted, "but it seems highly unlikely that they have another attack force prepared that is as large as their first. Especially now that we're on high alert after the first attack."

"And," Colonel Diimas Tol-Terro added, "Now that our reinforcements have arrived, they would be up against a much larger force than before. It would be suicide to attempt another attack now." One by one, heads began to nod as they accepted this logic.

"If any more Sith do appear," Gollayawo concluded, "we'll deal with them quickly."

So that's it, Ahsoka thought. No more Sith, no more fires, and no more ships falling out of the sky. It's over. She should have felt relieved. The Sith had been defeated. Their attack had been thwarted. Through the coordinated efforts of the Jedi, military, and first responders, lives had been saved.

But not enough. We should have been able to save more. Ahsoka ran through every action the Galactic Alliance had taken since that fateful explosion at Obsidian Towers. Every choice they had made had been based on how many lives they could save. Innumerable people had been bound to die no matter what they did.

Out of curiosity, she looked up at the holodisplay—specifically, at the counter that displayed the confirmed death toll. Immediately, she wished she had not. One million five hundred fifteen thousand, and still counting. One-and-a-half million people killed in an unimaginable attack on the most secure planet in the galaxy. Suddenly, the number of lives that had been saved seemed insignificant next to the magnitude of the Alliance's failure.

Her failure.

"Then it's over," Tol-Terro said with relief. "We've won."

Ahsoka did not even attempt to disguise the glare she fixed him with. In a deathly serious tone, she asked, "Does this feel like winning to you?"

It's finally over! Or is it...?

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