Chapter 26 - Ascent

The permacrete wall rose before them like a final curtain, separating Edric from what he had been both running toward and away from since Daiyu. Master Asher. The words repeated in his mind, bitter and sharp. How many times had he imagined this confrontation? How many sleepless nights had he spent wondering if he could face the man who had shaped him, who had fallen so far from what he once was?

Not for the first time, his mind drifted to the countless hours he had spent beside Kael's bacta tank, watching, waiting, hoping. If he had tried harder, reached deeper into the Force, stayed longer... maybe things would be different. Maybe the man who had been more than a master—who had been a father when Edric needed one most—would still be here.

Even now, surrounded by his newfound family, there was an ache in his heart that wouldn't fade. He missed Kael's quiet wisdom, his patient guidance and encouragement, the way his eyes would crinkle at the corners when Edric made some ridiculous joke during training. He believed in Edric when no one else did. That great man was just like a ghost now, replaced by a husk. Yet Edric couldn't stop hoping that somewhere, buried beneath layers of anger and darkness, that person still existed. And maybe, just maybe, there was a chance he could reach him. Master…

Edric blinked the buildup of tears away with a deep inhale and watched Edwin press his palm against the cold surface, reaching out to the Force. His own hand trembled slightly as he stepped forward to join him. The darkness was stronger here, seeping through the barrier like veins pumping black blood along the whole facility. It called to something inside him, that same fury that had nearly consumed him in their first encounter. The rage that spoke of power, of vengeance, of everything the Dark Side promised. A chance to turn things around, to change them for the better perhaps. He tried to close his mind from it, but couldn't shut it down entirely.

"Can you feel that?" Edwin whispered, his voice barely a breath. Edric nodded, though his brother couldn't see it. His awareness in the Force was more than enough to acknowledge it. But underneath all, something even darker lurked—a presence that made his skin crawl. Still, he pushed past the discomfort, focusing on what the Force revealed directly ahead: a corridor, wide enough for three men to walk abreast, waiting on the other side.

Their way in.

Without a word, Edwin took a measured step back, raising his green lightsaber in his hand. The blade plunged into the permacrete with the ease of sunlight slicing through the shadows, molten rock dripping to the floor. He moved his arm in an arc, the saber cutting through the wall. Edric mirrored him on the other side, his yellow blade joining his brother's as they began carving a rough circle through the barrier.

Then the Force rippled with warning, making Edric's muscles tense. The sounds carried through the permacrete—boots scraping against metal decking, the crisp clicks of blaster safeties disengaging, the low murmur of orders being given. His eyes met Edwin's. They had both felt it: an Imperial squad arranging themselves in formation, weapons ready, waiting to greet their uninvited guests.

"Get behind us," Edric said, his voice low. "We're about to have a welcome party." Lyra and Max moved into position, flanking the brothers from behind, weapons raised. Drone hovered near Lyra's shoulder.

The brothers' lightsabers traced their final arc through the permacrete, stopping just short of completing the circle. The molten edges still glowed similar to the lava rivers they had seen when landing, casting strange shadows in the confined space, but radiating a pleasant warmth.

"Thinking what I'm thinking?" Edric asked, a plan already forming in him. Edwin's response was a subtle curve of his lips—the closest thing to a smile his brother usually managed.

"I count at least twelve," Edwin said, his voice barely above a whisper. "It should take two, maybe three if we're lucky."

"Want to share with those of us who can't read minds?" Max muttered from behind them, his tone dry but alert.

"The wall becomes the weapon," Edwin began, his hands shifting on his saber hilt. "Force it inward—"

"—while they're still bunched up in formation," Edric finished. "Clean, quick, and gives us the opening we need."

Max's quiet chuckle was followed by the soft clink of metal from his belt. He held up a flash grenade, the device looking almost innocent in his weathered palm. "How about we add a little more chaos to the mix?"

A familiar warmth spread through Edric's chest at Max's reliability—always one step ahead. His smile faded as quickly as it came, reality settling heavy on his shoulders. The weight of what they were about to do pressed against him all of a sudden as if the ceiling collapsed above them. And not just the holocron's responsibility. Taking life had never come easily to him, even after leaving the Order. The Jedi believed all life was sacred, however evil, everyone deserved their chance of redemption. But here, now, with everything at stake... Sometimes the only paths forward were the hardest ones to walk.

His fingers tightened around his lightsaber, the leather grip damp with sweat. Despite the chill that made his breath mist in the yellow glow of his blade, heat radiated from his core like a furnace. He closed his eyes to breathe in, to ground himself in the Force. To let it sweep in him, against all the emotions churning inside. He let them all just… be. Stay in him, be with him. In one ear, he could hear his anxiety telling him they would all fail, in the other, hope murmured that they had a chance and that was more than they could ask for. Trust in the Force, he thought, letting it guide his next breath. And for once, it wasn't just a mantra, it was a truth he embraced in his bones.

"Everyone ready?" Edric asked the others as his eyes snapped open, and their nods were his reply. He met Edwin's gaze, and through their bond, he sensed his brother's silent count.

Three... two... one…

They thrust their hands forward in perfect unison. The Force flowed through them, launching the cut section inward like a battering ram. Armors crunched as two stormtroopers caught the full impact, their bodies crumpling beneath the permacrete slab.

"Max, now!" Edric shouted.

The flash grenade sailed through the opening. Edric squeezed his eyes shut and turned away, feeling Lyra press close behind him as the device detonated. Even through his closed lids, the flash burned white-hot. Disoriented shouts and the clatter of dropped weapons echoed from within.

He heard his brother's signal to move and Edric's heart jolted in response. They all leapt through the breach, lightsabers igniting again mid-jump. The air filled with the sharp whine of blaster bolts, red streaks cutting through the haze. But the Force was with him—Edric felt it coursing through every fiber of his being, heightening his awareness and sharpening his movements. Time seemed to slow, each instant stretching into clarity as he raised his weapon into the defensive stance of Soresu.

The onslaught began.

Edric's saber was a golden blur as he twisted and turned, deflecting the blaster bolts with the ease of instinct. The Force guided his arms, his hands, his every motion, turning deadly fire into harmless sparks that scattered across the walls and floor. The smoke from the grenade still hung thick in the air, shrouding the hallway in a murky gray, burning his throat, but it didn't matter. Edric didn't need to see—he could feel the attacks before they came, the faint ripples in the Force warning him of every shot aimed his way.

Lyra and Max surged through the breach. They dropped into position behind the brothers, their weapons picking off stormtroopers trying to find cover. Max's blaster cut down one trying to flank from the left, while Lyra's sharp eye picked off another who was retreating for cover in a small alcove.

The space between the four of them felt like a living, breathing organism—each person moving in perfect rhythm, complementing the others' weaknesses. As Edric focused on deflecting the incoming barrage from his side, he channeled the bolts back toward their attackers, aiming to thin their numbers. Some shots hit their marks, sending stormtroopers collapsing to the floor in smoking heaps. Others ricocheted wildly, leaving fresh scorch marks on the walls, ceiling, and floor, the confined corridor rapidly becoming a battlefield of searing heat.

An unexpected cold wind swept through Edric, and for a flicker he saw a lean dark figure standing in the smoke, a shadow that looked like spilled ink in the hallway, face masked by the mist. Can't be, his mind told him as he blinked. The figure was no longer there. Maybe it was just a glitch in the goggles?

"On your left!" Lyra's voice cut through just as there were only two more troopers in front of Edric. He turned, still somewhat disoriented, his blade sweeping upward on instinct just in time to intercept a close-range shot from a trooper who had stepped out of the smoke. The red bolt reflected back with a sharp snap, catching the soldier square in the chest and sending him crumpling to the floor.

At the same moment, a blaster bolt zipped past Edric's shoulder, so close he felt the heat singe the fabric of his tunic. He turned just in time to see Lyra lower her rifle, smoke curling from the barrel as the trooper behind him fell, his weapon clattering to the ground. She had saved him. Again.

But what was that? It couldn't be his master…right?

Edric shot Lyra a quick nod of thanks, the exchange silent but understood, before pivoting back to the last trooper ahead. He raised his saber in a fluid motion, deflecting the incoming shot cleanly. The red bolt arced back toward its origin, striking the soldier squarely and ending the fight in a flash of light and smoke.

Edric whirled around to join the fight on Edwin's side, only to see his brother calmly advancing on the last stormtrooper. The soldier fired wildly, desperation clear in the rapid succession of blaster bolts, but Edwin's green blade spun in a flawless blur, deflecting each shot effortlessly. The saber moved so quickly it resembled a glowing, impenetrable shield.

As Edwin closed the distance, the trooper hesitated, his helmet tilting upward to meet the imposing figure before him. For a moment, there was stillness. Then, with a single, fluid motion, Edwin swept his saber in a decisive arc. The soldier collapsed to the ground, his weapon slipping from lifeless fingers as the fight came to an end.

The aftermath of battle hung in the air—the acrid smell of scorched metal, smoke and ozone mixing with the metallic tang of blood. Edric's pulse thundered in his ears, each breath burning in his lungs as he tried to steady himself with a couple deep breaths. Around him, the others were similarly winded, their gasps for air echoing off the walls. The smoke cleared slowly, revealing a sterile metal hallway.

Despite the smooth, almost reflective surfaces, Edric felt the place wanted to close in on them. The light panels in the walls and the ceiling were dimmed, some were flashing in and out after a couple of shots hit them. Sparks flew out from one after a surge, making Max jump in his place.

Edric shivered. That cold, suffocating hand around his heart returned, extinguishing the flame he had only moments ago. Something terrible was coming, as he sensed even before the caves, but it wasn't here and now. The premonition made him wonder why the Force played this cruel joke with him again and again. He glanced at his friends, his family, hoping they would all make it out. Somehow. If it was him who had to join the Force this day, so be it. But please not them…

The sudden blare of alarms shattered the moment of respite, drilling into his skull as a mechanical voice announced their presence throughout the facility.

"Attention all units: intruders in Sector 7. Engaging security protocols."

Edric's eyes swept the corridor, muscle memory from missions with Max kicking in as he searched for anything useful. There—a data socket, its interface panel stood out against the smooth metal walls nearby.

"Drone!" The word had barely left his lips before the little droid darted forward from its hiding spot near the breach, anticipating his intent. Its scomp link extended with a soft whir, connecting to the socket. The mechanism spun, ancient gears grinding against each other as Drone worked its magic. A series of chirps and whistles followed—triumphant, almost smug—before its holoprojector flared to life, casting the fortress's schematics in ethereal blue light.

The group huddled closer, their shadows merging as they studied the layout. Edric's eyes found their position first: a pulsing red marker in one of the lower corridors. His gaze traced upward through the hologram until it locked onto what had to be their destination—a massive turbolift shaft running through the central tower like a spine.

"We're not far," he murmured, more to himself than the others. "Just a few turns and—"

"Here." Max's finger jabbed at another section of the map, drawing their attention to a heavily fortified chamber on their level. "Command center. Perfect view of the outer walls." His voice carried his experience as he stroked his chin thoughtfully. "They are coordinating their defense from there."

"And I bet we can disable their shields there," Lyra added, her face lighting up with hope.

Drone's affirmative beep echoed Max's and Lyra's assessment, but Edric barely heard it. His focus had shifted to something else—a sinister whisper in the Force, growing stronger with each passing second. Somewhere above them, far up in that central tower, a familiar darkness waited. Impatient, thirsty almost.

Kael.

The sound of rapidly approaching footsteps pulled him back to the present. Time was running out. Edric yanked the goggles from his face and held them out to Lyra, his hands lingering as she took them.

"Take Drone with you," he said. "He can help you get into their systems." The droid chirped softly, hovering closer to Lyra as though already accepting its new assignment.

She nodded, slipping the goggles on, but her fingers caught his wrist before he could pull away. The touch sent a spark through his skin, and suddenly the thundering footsteps, the blaring alarms, even the sharp nails of Kael's presence—it all faded into background noise. Her eyes found his, green depths carrying a galaxy of unspoken words. They both smiled.

"Edric—" she started, but he pulled her close, cutting off whatever she was about to say. Their lips met with desperate intensity, each second precious and fleeting. He tried to pour everything he couldn't say into that kiss—his fear, his hope, his promise to return. That they would survive. Her hand cupped his face, thumb brushing against the cut on his cheek, and for a brief moment, he allowed himself to lean into her touch as they slowly pulled away. Lyra's hand slipped from his face, leaving a ghost of warmth behind.

"Be careful," she whispered.

Max cleared his throat. The footsteps grew deafening, heavy boots clanking on the metal ground. Edric turned to meet Max's gaze, and for a split second, he thought he saw something glistening in the bounty hunter's eyes—a faint sheen of unshed tears that Max was trying to blink away.

A lump formed in Edric's throat, one he stubbornly tried to swallow down. He forced a grin, though it wavered slightly at the edges. "Take care of her, old man."

"Watch who you're calling old, kid," Max shot back, though his voice was softer than usual. He extended a hand, palm open for a shake.

Edric stared at it for a moment, then grabbed Max's arm, yanking his surrogate father into a firm, unguarded hug. "Don't you dare leave me, alright?" Edric's voice cracked, the vulnerability spilling through despite his best efforts to contain it.

"Wouldn't dare, kid," Max said, his voice low but steady as he returned the hug, patting Edric on the back.

They pulled apart just as Edwin stepped up beside Edric, his green lightsaber still glowing faintly at his side. He looked at their companions, his expression calm but solemn, and extended his hand in a gesture of solidarity.

"May the Force be with you both," Edwin said, his voice resonant, the traditional farewell holding all the weight of the moment.

Edric could hear a chilling voice in his head telling him this was the last time he had seen them. He made sure to remember them as they were: fierce warriors, who were willing to sacrifice it all for Edric's legacy. The galaxy still had good people in it, as he believed. As he tried to convince Max so many times.

Just then, black-armored figures rounded the corner ahead—Purge Troopers, their electrostaffs crackling as they advanced toward the group.

"Go," Edric whispered, already reaching for his lightsaber. "We'll keep them busy."

Their eyes with Lyra met one final time—a look that carried a thousand words—before she turned away. As she and Max disappeared down the opposite direction, Edric's yellow blade ignited with a familiar snap-hiss, its glow reflecting off the polished black armor of the approaching troopers. He shook himself off, sniffing away the heartache he had. It was time to fight. An inhale, lids closing, a quiet murmur to himself to focus, and he snapped his eyes open.

Edric glanced at Edwin, catching his brother's encouraging nod before the corridor erupted into chaos. The first Purge Trooper lunged at him, and Edric met the attack with his blade, yellow light clashing against crackling energy in a shower of sparks. He heard Edwin's grunt as he engaged the second trooper, his brother's green saber glinting in the corner of his eye.

The Purge Trooper spun his staff in a complex pattern, each movement flowing into the next like water. The weapon buzzed past Edric's face as he leaned back, the heat of its energy field raising the hair on his neck. Edric studied his opponent's movements, looking for any weakness as he parried the next swing. The trooper was skilled, his attacks relentless, but there was something mechanical about his style—a rigidity that reminded Edric of the training droids he had faced in the Temple.

Another attack came low, sweeping for his legs. Edric jumped back, buying himself space to think. The trooper pressed forward, staff whirling in deadly arcs, forcing Edric to give ground. But in that aggressive pursuit, Edric saw it—a slight hesitation between strikes, a fraction of a second where the trooper's guard wavered.

Edric feinted left, drawing out the expected response. As the trooper moved to counter, Edric changed direction mid-strike, his yellow blade moving upward in a devastating arc. The electrostaff caught his attack, but the impact knocked the trooper off-balance. Without hesitation, Edric planted his foot on the wall beside him, using it as a springboard to launch himself into a spinning kick.

His boot connected with the trooper's helmet with a satisfying crack. The force of the impact sent the soldier staggering backward, his stance broken, painting a satisfying smirk on Edric's face. Behind him, he heard the distinctive hum of Edwin's blade as his brother methodically wore down his own opponent's defenses.

The Purge Trooper recovered quickly, his staff sweeping back into a defensive pattern. Through the Force, Edric sensed the soldier's growing frustration—these troopers were used to overwhelming their targets quickly, not being matched blow for blow. Edric cracked his neck as he taunted his enemy.

Then, breaking from traditional forms entirely, he did something no Jedi would consider. He planted his feet, lowering himself into a half-squat before he charged forward like a raging reek, aiming to tackle the Purge Trooper head-on. The soldier, caught off guard by such an unorthodox move, tried to bring his staff around to defend. It caught Edric's right shoulder as they collided, sending white-hot pain shooting down his arm, but he barely registered it through the adrenaline. His momentum and sheer physical mass carried them both backward and Edric managed to brush the staff away.

Gritting his teeth against the pain, he pushed harder, using his raw strength to drive the soldier against the wall, screaming from the top of his lungs, a primal roar that echoed through the hallway. The impact rattled the trooper's armor, and Edric felt the soldier's grip on the staff weaken. In that moment of vulnerability, Edric's lightsaber found its mark.

As his opponent fell, Edric turned to see Edwin finishing his own fight, taking the electrostaff from his enemy and stabbing it with it.

The corridor fell quiet save for the hum of their lightsabers and the distant sound of approaching reinforcements. Edric rolled his shoulder, wincing at the burn where the electrostaff had caught him.

"More will come," Edwin said.

"Let's not wait for them. Shall we?" Edric gestured toward the turbolift's location, a tight smile playing at his lips despite the exhaustion seeping into his muscles. Yes, that's it. Feel the anger in you, a voice bounced around his head. It made his heart leap and he glanced at Edwin.

"He's playing tricks, don't listen to him," his brother warned, seemingly knowing exactly what went on in Edric's mind. "Remember what I showed you."

And Edric did. He drew upon the Force's currents, the task more difficult than anticipated as dark twisters were all around him. It was like trying to tune into a radio channel with enough interference to make everything incomprehensible. He held onto a faint wave, rode it along it to wash away his growing panic, offering brief respite.

"Good," Edwin nodded as he gestured forward.

They broke into a sprint, their boots echoing off the polished floors as they raced down the corridor. Edric took point, his yellow blade casting dancing shadows on the walls as they rounded the corner at full speed. The turbolift's doors gleamed ahead, a beacon of promise—and there, at the far end of the hall, a squad of stormtroopers charged toward them, their white armor reflecting the harsh overhead lights.

"There they are!" The squad leader's voice rang out, sharp and commanding. "Fire at will!"

Red bolts streaked down the corridor like arrows. But Edric was already moving, the Force flowing through him as naturally as breathing. His blade spun in precise arcs, deflecting shots that would have found their marks. Beside him, Edwin matched his pace, their movements synchronized as they pushed forward.

The Force surged through their legs, lending them impossible speed as they closed the distance to the lift. Edric's heart thundered in his chest, each step bringing them closer to their goal—and to Kael. The darkness grew heavier with each stride, like wading through invisible tar, trying to slow their advance. But Edric pushed through it, channeling his determination into each step.

They reached the turbolift just as another volley of blaster fire scorched the wall behind them. Edric slammed his palm against the controls, but just as it was about to close, something bounced on the metal floor and rolled into the lift beside their feet.

The thermal detonator blinked quicker and quicker as Edric and Edwin both reached out for it in the Force, pushing it out of the elevator and back into the corridor just as the doors slid shut with a satisfying hiss. They felt the shockwave through the door and heard the screams of the troopers when the lift began to rise.

The sudden silence was deafening, broken only by their heavy breathing and the soft hum of the lift beginning its ascent. Edric's legs trembled slightly from the sprint. The burn on his shoulder throbbed in time with his racing pulse. He glanced at Edwin, who had a quiet smile painted across his face. We made it.

His brother's hand reached up to clasp his uninjured shoulder. Their first meeting flashed before Edric, when this touch calmed him down like a soothing balm. But there was no such thing happening now. His brother trusted him well enough that he would be able to sort it out on his own.

"You know," Edwin said softly, his eyes meeting Edric's with an intensity that made the younger brother pause, "when I first learned about you, I wasn't sure what to expect." He squeezed Edric's shoulder gently. "But I couldn't have asked for a better brother."

The words hit Edric harder than any blow from the fight below. A lump formed in his throat as he covered Edwin's hand with his own. "Edwin, I—"

"Whatever happens up there," Edwin continued, his voice steady despite the darkness pressing in around them, "know that I'm proud to fight by your side."

In that moment, the Force shifted—a violent ripple that made Edric's stomach lurch. The metal walls of the lift seemed to pulse as chill crawled up his spine like ice-cold fingers, and he could have sworn he saw his own breath mist in the suddenly frigid air. Through their bond, he felt Edwin tense, sensing it too: above them, waiting in the darkness, something ancient and hungry stirred.

The air in the lift grew thick, suffocating, and the lights flickered overhead. In his mind, a familiar voice whispered, twisted and almost laughing: Finally.

The elevator stopped.