The attack came with zero warning.
One moment, Anchorhead was its usual dusty, sluggish self – merchants bartering, civilians hauling supplies, the hum of machinery from Czerka's outpost vibrating through the streets. The next, the sky split apart with the roar of engines as Darth Bandon's ship descended like a bird of prey.
Then the screaming started.
Canderous didn't wait. He'd seen this before – ambush tactics, shock and awe, chaos as a weapon. The second that landing ramp lowered, he was already moving. His heavy repeater kicked to life in his hands, sending a red-hot storm of blasterfire toward the first wave of Bandon's enforcers.
HK-47 was already ahead of him.
"Statement: Ah, the delicious sound of organics in distress. This is going to be immensely satisfying."
The assassin droid strolled forward into the fray, blasters up, each shot precise, deadly, and efficient. A mercenary in Czerka armor dropped mid-sprint, a bolt burning through his visor. A second gunman tried to take cover – HK put a bolt clean through his knee.
Carth was already directing fire, pushing into cover as he snapped off orders. "Mission, keep moving! Zaalbar, don't let them pin us down!"
Mission's vibroblade flashed in the sunlight as she ducked and weaved between the chaos, carving through attackers like she was slicing through a swoop race. Zaalbar stayed tight to her flank, his vibroblade cleaving through a Sith trooper's blaster just before he could fire. The next swing took the man off his feet entirely.
The Sith came down hard.
Bandon himself barely moved.
He didn't have to.
One hand lifted, and the air snapped tight like a closing vice. A nearby civilian – a dock worker who had the poor luck of being in the wrong place at the wrong time – suddenly arched backwards, screaming.
Then Bandon clenched his fist.
The worker collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. Dead.
With a flick of his fingers, he twisted the Force.
A Czerka worker screamed as his body was yanked into the air, spine bending unnaturally before he was hurled headfirst into a merchant stall. He didn't get up.
Another civilian tried to run. Bandon gestured lazily, and the poor soul stumbled mid-stride before being violently pulled backwards – right into the path of a stray blaster bolt.
Mission couldn't breathe.
She barely had time to process what she was seeing before she felt hands grab her from behind.
She reacted instantly.
Her elbow shot back into the attacker's ribs – hard. A sharp cry of pain followed, and she spun, kicking the legs out from under another mercenary just as Zaalbar's vibroblade crashed down across his chest.
"Canderous, a little help here?!"
The Mandalorian grunted, catching a Sith trooper across the jaw with a brutal backhand before blasting another point-blank in the chest. "You're doing fine, kid."
"Yeah, that's real reassuring, thanks – " Mission ducked under a vibroblade aimed for her throat, spun low, and kicked her attacker in the knee. The Sith trooper crumpled – just in time for HK-47 to double-tap him in the back of the head.
"Observation: It seems you are slightly more efficient than I initially anticipated, young meatbag."
"Can we not call me that right now?!"
Carth reloaded, using a burning speeder for cover. "We've got incoming – more troopers from the north side!"
Mission glanced toward the side street and felt her stomach drop. A squad of six was pushing toward them in tight formation, rifles raised.
"Okay, new plan," she panted. "Zaalbar, throw something heavy."
The Wookiee didn't hesitate.
He reached down, grabbed the nearest street vendor's speeder, and hurled it.
It slammed into the incoming troopers with the force of a charging kath hound, scattering them like dominoes.
But they weren't winning this.
Not yet.
Not without the Jedi.
Bandon's lightsaber ignited, a crackling blade of red energy, humming with lethal promise. His soldiers pressed forward, forcing the Ebon Hawk crew into a tighter formation. Blaster fire screeched through the air, striking duracrete, igniting speeder fuel, leaving bodies crumpled in the sand.
Then –
A blaster bolt froze mid-air.
An instant later, it whipped backward, striking the trooper who fired it square in the chest.
The Jedi had arrived.
Seth hit the ground first, landing in a low crouch, the heat of battle already burning through his veins. His lightsaber ignited blue with asnap-hiss, deflecting a second shot as he surged forward, closing the distance between himself and Bandon in mere seconds.
Bastila was right behind him.
She landed beside him, saberstaff blazing, twirling once in her grip before she pressed forward to Seth's left, seamlessly falling into step beside him.
For half a second, the street was silent.
Then –
Bandon moved.
Or, at least, he tried to.
Seth was already there. Their blades clashed with a shockwave of blue and red. Bandon barely got his lightsaber up in time.
Seth drove forward, blade whipping low, twisting mid-step, parrying high – striking fast.
Bandon was fast.
Seth was faster.
A second later, Bastila joined the fray.
Her gold blade swept in from the side, slicing toward Bandon's flank, forcing him to pivot, react – but not control.
The momentum shifted instantly.
They were pressing him back.
Across the battlefield, Carth, HK, and Canderous continued their coordinated assault from behind an overturned speeder.
"Statement: Jedi combat efficiency has increased by approximately 62%. Fascinating."
Carth rolled his eyes. "I think you're making those numbers up."
"Retort: My calculations are beyond your comprehension, Meatbag. Now, shall I continue eliminating threats or would you prefer I perform an interpretive dance?"
"Less talk, more shooting, HK."
"Query: May I shoot while speaking?"
"Yes! Just – "
"Statement: Excellent!" HK fired a shot directly through a Sith sniper's visor, dropping him instantly. "Eliminating hostiles and contributing to conversation. Multitasking achieved."
Canderous grunted, sending a grenade flying into a cluster of enemy reinforcements. "Not bad, tin can."
Mission and Zaalbar, meanwhile, had shifted focus from the battle – evacuating civilians trapped in the firefight.
"Go!" Mission yelled at a young couple cowering behind a fallen stall. "Head for the Ebon Hawk – it's the safest place right now!"
Zaalbar snarled and lifted a collapsed durasteel beam, pulling a wounded mechanic from underneath it. The man gasped, coughing, and Zaalbar gently slung him over his shoulder, carrying him to safety.
"Where the hell is Seth?!" Mission snapped, eyes scanning the battlefield frantically. She spotted him, her jaw tightening a bit when she locked eyes on his sapphire lightsaber locked together with the Sith Lord's.
Bandon moved like a storm, every strike of his crimson blade punctuated by the screams of the dying and the crackling of flames that had erupted from his reckless destruction.
But Seth and Bastila matched him, step for step.
They pushed forward together, their blades carving bright arcs through the dust-clogged air, their attacks and counters seamless.
Bandon's frustration grew. His yellowed teeth clenched behind his sneer. He had expected a fight – but not a challenge.
"Enough!" he snarled, throwing out his free hand. The Force exploded outward, sending nearby debris and wounded civilians flying.
Seth's gut twisted as he heard the screams.
"Seth, stay focused!" Bastila barked, catching Bandon's saber with a crossguard block.
Jolee and Juhani were already moving.
"We got 'em, kid!" Jolee's voice cut through the dust-choked air, even as he ripped a burning speeder from its moorings and flung it aside to free those trapped beneath.
Juhani dashed through the chaos, violet blade flashing as she cut down two Sith troopers attempting to execute a cowering woman. She yanked her forward, ushering her into the safety of a nearby building.
"Don't let that Sith bastard get in your head!" Jolee barked as he shielded a family with an outstretched palm, redirecting a volley of blaster bolts into the ground. "Your fight is with him!"
Seth gritted his teeth.
Jolee was right.
Bandon wasn't just throwing civilians around to cause damage. He was testing him. Trying to break his concentration. Trying to find a weakness.
But Seth wasn't going to give him one.
He locked back into the fight, pushing forward alongside Bastila, their combined assault forcing Bandon back once more.
"Pathetic," Bandon spat, shaking the pain from his saber hand as he blocked one of Seth's strikes. "You fight well – "
Bastila cut in, slashing at his exposed flank.
He barely dodged, a piece of scorched black tunic falling into the dust.
His sneer faltered.
"But not well enough," Bastila finished.
The Sith Lord's rhythm was breaking, his strikes more erratic, more desperate.
Seth pressed in with Bastila, their blades moving as one, forcing Bandon onto the defensive. He parried high, barely dodged low, his breath coming faster, his confidence cracking.
This wasn't the fight he expected.
He hadn't expected them.
He hadn't expected her.
Bastila's golden saber sliced in, landing the first decisive blow – a deep gash across his ribs. Bandon staggered. The dark leather of his tunic split, blood seeping into the fabric.
"Now!" Bastila barked.
Seth was already moving. His saber cut an upward arc, searing through flesh – straight through Bandon's chest.
The Sith Lord froze.
The twin blades of the legacy his Master had warned him about… had struck him down.
His saber flickered. Then died. Bandon staggered backward, breath hitching, clutching at the wound.
But instead of rage, instead of fear –
He laughed. A slow, guttural chuckle, bubbling up between pained breaths.
Seth's stomach turned.
"You're running out of time," Bandon rasped, his voice thick with blood.
Bastila's grip on her saber tightened. "What are you talking about?"
"He knows who you are now." Bandon's dark eyes lifted, fixing on Seth.
A chill ran through him.
"Darth Malak…" Bandon coughed, blood spattering the sand at his knees. A twisted, satisfied grin curled at his lips. "He's coming for you."
Then – silence.
Bandon's body slumped. The last of his breath left him.
The Sith Lord was dead.
Seth's breath came in sharp, shallow bursts. The battle had been brutal, but the fight was over.
So why didn't it feel like victory?
Bandon's final words had settled over the battlefield like a storm cloud, thick and suffocating.
Seth turned to Bastila – and froze.
She wasn't just catching her breath.
She was rattled.
Her grey eyes were locked on Bandon's lifeless form, her lips pressed into a thin, bloodless line. Her fingers clenched so tightly around her hilt that her knuckles had turned white.
He had never seen her like this. Not even after the vision on Dantooine. Not even on Kashyyyk when they had been thrown into the thick of battle with Malak's forces.
This wasn't just concern. This was fear.
"Bastila."
She flinched. A tiny movement. Barely noticeable.
Then she blinked, and when she looked at him, she was herself again. Composed. Controlled. Bastila Shan, Jedi Knight. She turned away, switching off her saber with a calm too forced to be real. "It doesn't matter."
Seth hesitated, then gestured toward Bandon's crumpled corpse. "Malak sent one of his top enforcers after us." His voice was even, but his pulse was still racing. "That sure as hell feels like it matters."
Bastila exhaled, switching off her lightsaber with practiced ease. "We were always going to be found eventually," she said carefully. "Malak has Sith Lords scouring the galaxy for us. Bandon was just the first to get lucky."
Seth narrowed his eyes, stepping closer.
This didn't sit right.
She wasn't outright lying – he'd know if she was lying.
But she was holding something back.
"Bastila," he said, softer this time. "What aren't you telling me?"
She hesitated. Just for a second.
And in that second, something deep and raw and afraid flickered across her face.
Seth felt his chest tighten.
Then, as quickly as it had come, she buried it. Pushed it down.
"Seth," she said, meeting his gaze. Her voice was gentle, steady. "I promise you, everything is under control."
And damn it, he believed her.
He let out a breath, rolling his shoulders. Maybe he was overthinking. Maybe she was just shaken from the fight, just like he was.
He wasn't sure when it had happened, but at some point, Bastila had become his rock.
Their bond was unshakable.
And if she said things were under control, he wasn't going to doubt her.
He gave a slow nod, running a hand through his hair. "Alright."
Her shoulders relaxed just slightly, and she turned toward the others, raising her voice. "We need to regroup. If Bandon found us here, more Sith will come."
Seth glanced back down at Bandon's corpse, the blood already darkening against the sand.
Malak was coming.
But Seth and Bastila?
Individually, they were powerful. Together, they were unstoppable.