The Weaving Force: Chapter 151

Chapter 151

What I remember about the end... the moments after the final battle of Coruscant...Was how quiet it was.

—

Trench

“Sir!’ A droid called. “Planetary battlegroup is reporting severe damage; all vessels!”

Planetary?

Trench once more looked over his radar and formation displays, wondering if somehow some fleet or fighter assets had slipped his notice and had made a successful run on the planetbound forces.

But no, the clone fleet was in front of him, engaged against his own forces and, absurdly, fighting each other and no new signatures had entered the system. 

“What is the nature of the-”

Alarms began blaring. 

“Sir! Anomalous readings from the surface of Coruscant, planetary temperature spiking!”

Some kind of new weapon?

“Planetary battlegroup reporting severe damage, fleet is attempting to retreat, destruction imminent!”

“GET ME A VISUAL!” He demanded, the speed of whatever this was catching him off guard.

The capital of the Republic came onto the primary holo screen.

And it was burning.

—

Dennis

“We should have pursued the witch.”

“You’re a big boy.” Dennis answered the Zabrak, his hands flying over the keyboard. “You wanna get killed chasing a retreating enemy while we’re outnumbered, out gunned and deep behind enemy lines go right ahead. We’re here to do a job.” 

Distantly, a part of him recognized he should probably watch his tone around the Zabrak that could probably kill him, the commandos and Ventress by himself if he was so inclined. 

But frankly, he wasn’t entirely sure he was going to survive today, so fuck it, in for a penny, in for a pound.

It wasn’t that he didn’t get Maul’s point. Sith lady was probably gonna come back with more numbers now that she got away to retake the shield generator-

But they didn’t have the numbers or any real guarantee of success, and getting these shields online and in their control was the only chance Dennis saw for things to not go completely pear-shaped, at least any more than they already had. 

Behind him, Maul snorted, allowing Dennis to continue his work on the shield generator console. 

“How’re we looking over there, trooper?” He asked one of the Clone techs. The man was arm deep in the underside of a console.”

“They practically gutted the whole system.” The Clone cursed. “I’m going to need at least fifteen minutes to rewire this frakkin mess.”

“Can you do it any faster?” Ventress asked from where she stood by the window. 

“Doubt it, why?”

“Because I seriously doubt we have ten minutes.”

The tone was enough for Dennis to shut his eyes, almost willing himself to keep working before he gave up  and turned around, marching over to the other side of the window she was standing by.

His next words summed up the sight nicely.

“Ahh fuck.”

An armored column of droid hovertanks and an infantry company of B-2’s and B-1’s were marching across the causeway, straight towards them. Droid gunships and dropships dotting the horizon behind them.

“We’ve got incoming!” He cursed, turning back around to run towards the console. “Try to hold them off! We need to get the shields back-”

Suddenly, Ventress and Maul both made sounds like the two of them had just been punched in the throat.

Ventress practically collapsed, falling on her hands and knees while Maul only looked slightly better by virtue of having the edges of a doorway to grip and help himself stay upright.

“Hey! Hey what the hell is-”

He stopped. The words caught in his throat as he heard it.

The deafening, roaring cacophony that could only be a swarm.

Dennis ran to Ventress, gently taking hold of her shoulders, then her face, making her look at him as she practically hyperventilated, trying to suck down great, heaving gulps of air.

“Denn-” She could barely speak. “I can- I don’t-”

“Hey, Hey look at me! Ven, Look at me oka-”

Heat blasted through the window, a blast washing over them like they were standing in front of the open mouth of a furnace, knocking them over.

He grabbed hold of Ventress, pulling her tight, and trying to shield her; thinking for a second one of those hovertanks had just lobbed a tank shell straight into the window; it would be his luck.

But no. 

He wasn’t dead.

He heard the voice of one of the commando’s crackle through the commline. The buzzing was truly overwhelming now. 

“By all the Corellian hells…”

The clone sounded faint, like he couldn’t quite understand what he was looking at. 

Dennis pulled himself free of Ventress, letting her clutch at his hand as he dared to stand and look outside.

Suddenly, he understood exactly what the Trooper was feeling.

It was hard to wrap your head around, after all.

Seeing a world burning.

B-1’s and B-2’s were melting where they stood, like a great gale was slowly sloughing off the metal from their bodies. Amidst the firestorm, great, whorling columns of insects descended on the tanks and devoured them. Droid gunships were torn from the sky through the sheer, impossible weight of numbers. 

The building fell into shadow and Dennis looked up. Where the skies darkened with chitin unending. 

He’d seen a lot from Hebert over the years… but right now, he wondered if he was only just glimpsing that thing she said she became.

The Monster…

The Endbringer that killed Scion.

—

Karla:

The shard in her hand was an insidious creation.

She was no expert, but she’d read histories, especially with her unique abilities. Miss Taylor had done everything she could to help her research emotional manipulation and control throughout the long storied tales of the Galaxy’s distant past.

This thing in her hands, had to be a Sith device… more specifically, something born from ancient Sith alchemy and nearly lost arcanotech. A blend of sorcery and technology only hinted at in the histories Miss Taylor had given her access to. 

It was an insidious thing. Something that dampened the Force sensitive’s ability to detect danger.

When fighting a Sith, it was a double edged sword.

But against an army of clones… an army of droids or Sithspawn?

It was a death sentence.

But her power, her own ability let her see it. Detect its influence on her own brain.

It wasn’t affecting future sight, it was a subtle monster. 

It weakened the Jedi’s will, his desire to live.

Why would you perceive danger, if you never even wanted to survive in the first place?

It was a subtle thing, a quiet thing. 

But her mind was more than her sense of self. It was her domain the place where she had absolute control!

After detecting that, she knew this was just as much of a danger as anything else here. For all that they lacked blasters, these devices would murder more people in this temple than almost anything else.

So she tore it apart.

Pieces came undone, wires and couplings examined down to their component pieces. 

Iskt was giving her time; She could hear the fighting outside; the medics and Jedi healers still working frantically to save as many wounded as they could. 

The temple still trembled and quaked with artillery fire.

But she pushed it all away, forced herself to focus. Forced herself to peel away the layers of this device and find a way to shut them all down!

She wasn’t Master Anakin, no doubt he’d have finished by now, but you didn’t train with him and Ahsoka for years without understanding some things at least.

She had to succeed! Even if all she did was this!

Then, a shudder passed through her, through every Jedi in the temple, and the only reason she didn’t stumble or falter or tremble in fear was because, almost instantly, she recognized this.

She knew who this was.

Master?

Then, she refocused, shunting the awe out of her mind, pushing it aside. If her Master was drawing on this much power Karla didn’t have time to waste!

And then, as she refocused, as her mind sharpened, like a bright flare she sensed something else, something new from this profane creation.

And she realized, she had a way to attack.

—

Ahsoka

“Applying burnshield and bacta. Keep the damaged sections cleared!”

She followed after Kix and the squadron of medical troopers as they practically crashed through the doors of the medical wing, her Master writhing in agony on the gurney.

Ahsoka felt his pain, the suffering roiling through his mind as his burns made him almost delirious. 

But still, she could hear him, that one thought piercing through the veil:

“Padme. Save Padme!”

She tried to reassure him, to send feelings of calm and peace but her own control frayed, not just at the sight of him, at the emotions from him, but even looking at Padme herself who followed behind them at Rex’s urging, a dead eyed look on her face and no feelings at all. 

It was like she was staring at a walking corpse.

She looked back to her Master, just as Kix secured a mask and headpiece over the burns over his mouth and profile, cold metal obscuring his features. 

She felt the rumble of the ship, turbolaser fire quaking the shield generators. 

She shook her head, pushing it out of her mind.

“Bloodwork and scans point to enslaver toxin.”

She didn’t recognize the clone medic that was speaking, he and two others practically dragging Padme to a cordoned off bed.

“Unknown variant, something custom. Frakking hell, it’s… it’s practically eating her frontal cortex.” Rex followed right behind them. 

“What do we have on hand for enslaver toxins?” Rex demanded. 

“Very little.” The medic answered, body already moving, trying to hook her up and set up as much equipment on her as he could as fast as he could. “We’ll have to synthesize something. Until then, Needlepoint, I need as much glutamate and norepinephrine as we can get, we need to get some chemicals to force the toxin to burn through.

She felt the faint static in her montrals before she heard the crackle in her aural canals. The intercom came to life and Ahsoka nearly jerked in place from sheer surprise.

“Belay that order.”

Everyone in the medbay paused, if only for a second. 

“Master Tiin?” Ahsoka called, recognizing the voice but wondering what the Fleetmaster was doing calling the Resolute’s, medbay.

“I apologize, Padawan Tano-” She heard a rumble through the comms, the background screams and blaring alarms told her a clear enough picture of what might’ve happened. “-but once it was confirmed Senator Amidala had been secured I ordered the Resolute to keep an open line between myself and the Senator at once….”

In the pause, she could almost feel the Jedi Master bracing himself, steeling himself for what he was about to say.

“I’m afraid I can’t authorize treatment of the Senator until a broadcast uplink is established and she rescinds the orders on open channels.”

Ahsoka felt her body go completely cold. Rex cursed, whirling away and already calling someone on his own comms to try and get something happening fast. 

“Sir.” The medic spoke. “Judging by what I’m reading here, if I don’t give her something in thirty seconds the chances of permanent brain damage are-”

“We are about to lose, trooper. I understand what I’m ordering, and I will accept the consequences of it if we survive. You’re free to establish the broadcast however you can, as quickly as you can, but I am weighing one woman’s life against countless billions on that planet.”

“You don’t have to do this,” She pleaded. “Padme would never have given those orders if not for the drugs. If she’s conscious she’ll rescind them immediately.”

“I’m sorry, Padawan… I’ll accept full punishment for my actions if we survive. But my order stands. Make use of the toxin, broadcast the order withdrawals. Only then can treatment be administered.”

There was a groaning of steel, a slow creaking moan that sent her whole body shivering like the ship was about to fold in on itself around her.

Vials shattered and equipment burst apart as Ahsoka whirled, facing her Master as the world around his still unconscious form seemed to tremble and quake. 

“Damnit!” Rex snarled. “Bridge crew, I don’t care if you need to frakking run the cables down the hall, connect the broadcast to the medwing cameras!”

—

Komari

They weren’t subtle as they ran, heavy plodding boots, panting breaths. Members of the squad occasionally turned to see if they were being pursued, but mostly, they all just ran.

Perhaps they could have stayed and fought, perhaps they could have won.

But she didn’t care about winning. She didn’t care about Sidious’ plans.

All she could see, all she could hear, was the blood dripping out of his mouth, the increasingly wet and ragged breathing. She could feel his strength ebbing away as she helped him run and she could feel death’s grasping hand reaching.

The Mandalorians were calling for evacs in their language, calling for other Mandalorians to come and help.

Perhaps they would have.

But then the world descended into hell.

Fires were burning across the world, people screamed, columns and columns of insects darkened the sky. 

She could hear by the tone of their voices that the Mandalorians weren’t coming. Frustration was giving way to anger, and anger to desperation. 

Finally, one of them pointed. “There!”

She didn’t think, she just followed, by now, she was all but dragging the wounded Mandalorian that had come here to save her.

It was a school they broke into. Its halls were abandoned, evacuated.

The alarm screeched as they ripped down the door and it didn’t take her long to realize where they were trying to get to.

They were trying to reach the Nurses’ office.

She felt… rage wasn’t the word, but it was the only thing she had to liken it to, rage and dismay, at the thought that, this was it, this was all they could find.

At the unfairness of it all.

It was right here! 

It… he…

The Mandalorians practically shattered the door off of its hinges as they burst into the office, barking out orders. She heard the call for bacta, recognized the names of some medications and soon enough they began practically ransacking the place.

One of them helped her carry Ramah to the only available bed.

They set him down, and she could see the pain on his face, and feel in the Force that the movement itself hurt something else did damage. His wet breathing grew all the worse to hear, rasping and grinding out of his throat.

She grit her teeth, hands clenching into fists.

“Rib broke with the fall I think… pierced lung. I know the signs. 

His voice sent a bolt of pain through her own chest.

She didn’t answer him. 

“Blood’s flooding my chest cavity.”

He was pale… how much blood had he lost already

“Shut up.” She cursed, listening to the Mandalorians still searching for anything they could use. “They’ll fix you.”

“None of them are medics.” He rasped. 

“You… can’t die.” Her voice choked, “I… I…”

She looked at him, and she detested the sorrow in his gaze. The apology.

Her fists slammed into the edge of the bed, hard enough to dent the metal railing. “You can’t!”

“…I know” He wheezed.

“I…” The tears burned at her eyes and she stared in disbelief as they trickled down, and fell to the floor. “I just want… to be free.”

“I know.” He repeated. 

His breath shuddered, halted. “I wish…”

His voice trailed off.

She didn’t dare look up.

She stared at the bed, at his hand, limp and still.

She didn’t have the courage… she couldn’t look. 

Couldn’t make it real.

Around her. The room trembled. Metal groaned. Tiles broke and shattered.

She would never cry. Never scream or Wail.

And…

She would never. Be. Free.

—

Iskt:

The Hallway infront of him, was choked with dead men, armored in red and white.

The Hallway behind him was clear.

And it would stay that way.

“Fire!”

The Rocket shrieked out of the launcher sailing down the hall in a trail of fire and smoke.

The tip struck him dead on in the chest, the impact shifting his scales to dull brown, something in his chest broke, the bone snapping, but the full damage was stopped, and he barely felt the shockwave from the point blank concussive force. Fires burned at his scales, and skin before his power compensated, shifting to red, Trandoshan regeneration was already slowly erasing the damage, even as he stepped through the flames and the smoke, glaring hatefully at the squadron of Clones that trembled as he drew closer.

“You’ve gotta be karkin shitting me! How!?”

Iskt hunched down, the growl rumbling out of his chest, vibrating the air before he charged

His clawed feet found purchase on the bodies, there were too many to even step on the floor anymore, his hands were bared like knives as he lunged, grabbing hold of the nearest clone, spinning and throwing the man into the heavy weapons team at the back. 

He pulled his lightsaber into his hand, the green glow shining off of his scales as  blaster fire swallowed the hallway, dozens of men focusing their fire.

He had the time, moving his saber to carefully reflect bolts back at the men furthest away from him, sending bolts of plasma through chestplates and helmets before the saber carved men open infront of him, their screams of pain and fear cut off as he smashed his way through the squad like a living juggernaut.

“We need anti armor weapons in here! Now!”

“Our Blasters aren’t working!”

With a roar, Iskt tore fragments of the wall shards of stone shredding men like a shrapnel bomb, with another thought he primed the grenades on the corpses just ahead of him, shoving the carcasses down the hall, watching them explode mid air and tear more men apart.

He heard the call to retreat, his fury rising, like pressure building up behind his eyes as he chased after them straight into the Grand Conclave Hall.

His feet skidded on the blood soaked ground, embers and dust kicked up in his wake, his fist crunched into the wall to halt his momentum, men shouted, turned around and shot, or just kept running.

Iskt snarled rage burning like magma through his veins. 

His  hand stretched out, and one Clone that had turned around to shoot began grasping at his throat.

They should all be running!

Another clone pressed his fingers to his comlink. “What!? Commander Fox! Please confirm! Confirm that now!”

“To all Jedi and clones that can hear me- This is Master Poof. All hostilities are to cease! I repeat! All hostilities are to cease! Coruscant guard commands have been resci-”

The words barely registered to the Trandoshan boy, the pulsing of his own heart was loud in his ears, thrumming and throbbing behind his eyes. 

The Clone infront of him rose up into the air, still clawing desperately at his own neck.

Distantly, he recognized that the blaster fire had ceased, the constant pelting of plasma bolts fading to nothing as white and red armored men instead were screaming, shouting, he barely heard them.

“General! 

“General stop! It's over! General”

“Put him down sir!” 

The words didn’t make sense and he was about ready to close his fist, crush the man’s neck and tear the men apart anyway just so it could be silent so he could think.

“-ed. I repeat, all Jedi and clones, this is Master Poof, Senator Amidala has just rescinded all orde-”

His breathing was harsh, and loud pain throbbed between his temples, his vision swam, he felt sick and still the words didn’t make sense.

A touch, the faintest touch and Iskt whirled, around, his free hand lashing out and the neck he grabbed wasn’t with the Force, but under his own claws, squeezing as he roared, lifting, finding Master allie dangling from his grip-

He stared at the woman, uncomprehending as his fingers tightened on her neck.

Her hands pressed down, softly over the red burning scales along his forearm.

The Jedi Healers look was gentle, even as her voice strained. “Padawan… It's ok… It’s alright… put him down.

Both of his arms shook, and he looked from the Master to the clone, now dangling almost limp in the air, before he turned back to master Allie. 

He let them both go, suddenly, immediately the Jedi Master, landing on her feet with barely a stumble, the clone in a heap of flesh and armor as Iskt backed away, staring at his own hands as if he’d never seen them before. 

Master Allie hovered nearby, standing in front of him, but not touching him. “It’s alright. It’s alright, just breathe Padawan, just breathe!”

He tried to obey, to do as she asked even as his own heart felt like it was trying to punch its way out of his chest while also feeling like it just couldn’t pump enough blood through his now cold limbs. 

And then, a sudden crash, a wall smashed apart, a cloud of dust swallowing white armored men as Iskt and everyone occupying the hall turned, towards the new danger.

A black monster, a Hssiss Dragon warbled and cried, its claws and tail lashing to and fro,trying to tear through a body he could barely see through the upturned dust.

Then, that tail whipped through the air, lightning fast, and the blow cracked with a snap of displaced air, sending the Jedi sailing through the air, and crashing into a pillar, ripping the masonry apart

It was the first time in a long time since he’d seen his Master bleeding.

—

Ahsoka

As the words spilled tonelessly from Padme, her dead eyes and expressionless face nearly brought Ahsoka to tears. Somehow, this felt even worse than her Master. For all of his pain, for all of his torment, he felt… alive.

Padme, for all that she still breathed… felt like a corpse.

“Broadcast’s done, start injections!” The medic demanded, “Lay down Senator, lay down.” He demanded, easing the woman back onto the bed, a flurry of activity taking over the space around her.

There was a sudden cacophony of metal crashing down, like a million silver trays had just been smashed into the medwing’s polished flooring. Clones and even Ahsoka herself whirled around with weapons drawn.

She heard the sound… of heavy, mechanical breathing.

“You were supposed to sedate him!” Rex barked at Kix, holstering his weapon and moving to… Ahsoka didn’t even know. Hell, Rex didn’t even know. Was he trying to help catch her Master or shove him back into his hospital bed.

“I thought I was sedating a human, not a bloody rancor!” Kix bit back through gritted teeth. “General, please, you shouldn't be on your feet.”

“Should we up the dosage?” Another medic asked.

“I’ve already gone high enough to practically kill a Wookiee, I’m not gonna go any higher!”

Ahsoka swallowed, feeling like cotton had been stuffed in her mouth as she drew closer to Anakin. “M-Master…” She called, hating herself for hesitating.

Anakin reached her, and even though his entire body shook with pain and effort his hand, his unburnt hand, still reached up to pat her montrals, feelings of warmth and reassurance radiating like soothing warmth from his palm. 

His heavy, mechanical breathing rasped, and the iron of the burn shield that now covered his mouth, nose and half his face looked almost inhuman.

But the blue of his one visible eye was as gentle as ever as he looked at her. “It’s going to be okay, Snips.”

Her vision blurred with tears, the words almost reducing her to a crecheling all over again rather than the near adult… near Jedi Knight that she was supposed to be. 

Her Master tried to smile, but soon his gaze turned away from her, towards Padme, who was laying on the bed staring blankly as the medics continued treating her.

This close, she could practically read his mind; his shame, his guilt, his pain and horror all burning like a comet across her mind.

Then, he started to walk past her.

“Take care of her.” He whispered.

The words caught her off guard, as much as everything today had caught her offguard, realizing what he was planning a second later. 

She turned, ready to grab at his arm before she felt something grab hold of her, the Force bearing down like a weight over her body until she physically couldn’t move. 

“Master!” She called, struggling with all her might to make her body fight the hold. “You can’t do this!”

He wheezed out his answer, shambling towards the door. “It’s… not done yet.”

“General!” One of her Master’s medics was also seemingly trapped, unable to rush after the man. “You’re in no condition.”

But her Master didn’t listen, and as he opened and marched past the door it sealed behind him, and they could move again.

It wasn’t until the hangar doors were forcefully opened and a lone fighter craft flew out did it unseal, releasing them from the medical ward.

—

Pre Vizsla

There was a blade in her hand.

It was strange, coated in a greenish energy, but it had the shape of a beskad.

Her stance was low, and Pre took hold of the Darksaber in both hands…

Then she charged him.

He saw that fist pull back early, too early. Her strike was so telegraphed a blind man could see it.

He got ready- Then there was a blade scraping off his helmet visor.

The edge shrieked, steel gouging into steel and his heart immediately accelerated. He jerked to the side, rushing forward. Surely the fool had thrown the knife thinking she could land it through the visor, but then he realized… no. She hadn’t thrown her knife. She had a spear.

She backpedaled, reversing her momentum, and that tip whirled back around in front of him and now he was the one off guard, on the back foot. The tip jabbed forward for his neck, which he parried, only for her to jab again at his thigh.

He swung, the blade meeting the neck of the spear shaft with all his strength, battering it down before he stomped on it to pin the weapon to the floor, only for it to vanish, wisps of green smoke coalescing in her hand by the time he blinked in surprise, an axe forming in an already pulled back arm before she threw.

The axe spun through the air and Pre leaned sharply to his right, letting it sail past his face as he charged, looking to close the distance.

He didn’t know what this green weapon was, its limits, specs, or anything, but he had to bring this to an end before one of her surprises proved to actually be fatal!

His armored boots pounded across the floor but he still saw the flash of green as he swung.

The Darksaber smashed into-

A shield!

The woman battered aside the first blow and Pre pushed, hammering at her with ferocity, refusing to give her any time to make a switch. Again and again the saber struck the broad kite shield, sparks dancing off each consecutive impact.

With a roar he kicked at her, his boot with his full weight behind it shoved her shield into her chest, driving the air out of her and physically throwing her off her feet.

She crashed into the ground and Pre only noticed the shield vanishing to the sound of a soft clink at his feet.

He looked down, catching sight of what must’ve been a grenade at his feet before the blast of blinding light and deafening sound.

Pre screamed, blind and deaf, swinging and flailing the Darksaber in front of him, where the woman would be, trying to ward her off with blind swings as he tried to regain his sight.

Then, something crashed into the side of his helmet.

—

Iskt

Iskt knew, better than most, how his Master fought, how she held herself, how she pushed herself.

He knew the mechanics of her abilities. He knew the secret that she was not invulnerable, she was not invincible.

So he knew that she was in danger.

She couldn’t sense the monster. None of them could sense it, even as it was standing and roaring right in front of them.

So his Master, who had perfected her ability to sense incoming attacks as part of her defense, was fighting practically blind.

He saw a blur of black, a claw rushing in to tear her apart, he almost shouted, but his Master turned with a roar, fist drawn back and the punch she delivered was a titanic thing, the keratin of the monsters claws shattering, he heard the bones in its finger and claw break, distorting the flesh with the sharpened shards of bone threatening to break through the skin as the force of the blow rippled up the length of its limb.

It was the tail she didn’t see coming.

The swipe lashed at her side, sending her tumbling and rolling across the floor, shards of rock and grit tore up her robes, splotches of red blood now marring the once pristine robes. 

More clones were rushing in, their defenses freed up, allowing hundreds to rapidly redeploy thankfully, they weren’t troops of the Coruscant guard. Orders or not, Iskt didn’t trust them and he couldn’t afford to be looking over his shoulder right now. 

The Monster spewed a cloud of poisonous gas and acid from its throat, and his Master dug in her fingers into the ground, ripping free a slab to use as a shield before kicking it like a canon shot straight at the Monster.

The beast turned to smoke, letting the improvised projectile pass right through him before he rematerialized, its tail already mid swing as she ducked under the swipe, avoiding the claws and follow up snap of its jaws trying to clamp down by what looked like the skin of her teeth, and then, unseen from her vantage, the Tail came back around, throwing a section of destroyed column the size of a speeder straight at her.

It hit her dead on, sending her sailing backwards, crashing into the ground once more as the marble and stone was pulverised with the impact.

It was the first time he’d ever seen his Master struggle to get back on her feet.

She was tired, exhausted even, a blind man could see it.

And then, he saw something else, something that made his blood go cold.

A stake of iron rebar, spearing his Master through her side. 

Iskt grit his teeth, muscles tensing as he grasped his saber and ran.

“Protect the General!”

It wasn’t his voice that made the call, he didn’t know who said it, but Clones  from all legions rushed forward, from his Master’s silver guard to members of the 707th, 212th, 501rst, Galactic marines and every other Legion you could think of, a shock of colors as men charged, practically throwing themselves into the monster’s path to buy her however many seconds they could give her.

The beast reared up, the sheer weight of Blaster fire practically drowning its flesh in shots plasma bolts scattering off its thickened hide as it prepared another poisonous breath. 

“Don’t let it breathe!”

It was Master Allie who shouted the command, Iskt felt the swell of Force power behind him, joining his strength to theirs, following Master Allie’s direction as the Monster’s jaws were Forcefully slammed shut, the poisonous gas trapped between the cage of its jagged teeth.

Red eyes glared, hate and rage pouring off the monster in waves.

It shifted, in and out of smoke, tearing into men like they were made of straw, the great Conclave hall became awash with gore and broken bodies.

Iskt felt himself hesitate, torn between helping the men, or helping his Master; but only for a moment before he ran towards the battered woman. 

“Master!”

Clone medics rushed towards her, barely reaching her seconds before he himself did.

Miss Vicky tried to smile, but the pain in her face was clear. “Don’t worry kid, you should see the other guy.” She tried to joke. 

“General!” The medic barked. “We have to get you out of here! He knows where you air, comms say he’s heading straight for us”

His Master looked confused, Iskt shared the confusion, but only for a few short seconds. 

And then, Iskt heard something else.

No. No not now!

“DALLON!”

Grievous tore his way through a column of men at the far end of the hall, seven tall, bipedal droids with electro-staffs following in his wake.

His Master grit bloodied teeth, her blue Lightsaber flashing to slice off the forward facing tip of the rebar goring her before she pulled herself free with a scream of pain.

Iskt caught her as she stumbled, helping her stay on her feet as the medics protested.  

“Bacta patch!” Was all she answered. 

Grievous laughed, four lightsaber blades spinning. “Did I catch you at a bad time, General?”

—

Hannah

The impact of the warhammer thrummed up her arms, the teeth of the head digging into the metal, twisting Pre’s helmet and likely his skull to the side.

He backpedaled, half from panic, half from impact, and she yanked, reversing his momentum, pulling him close.

The flames belched out of his wrist launcher and washed over her right arm.

Fire washed over and stuck to her arm and part of her leg, burning over the beskar, beginning to melt through the underarmor mesh. It was hot and getting hotter, but she wouldn’t stop. Couldn’t. She’d learned long ago to never give up the momentum when you had it because you might never get it back. 

She grabbed at his wrist, shoving it sideways and away from her. One of his companions screamed as he was doused with liquid fire, smart enough to drop to try and smother the flames quickly as he rolled.

Pre’s jump pack howled, screaming as he smashed his body into her blindly, lifting them both off the ground and sending her crashing into the wall.

The impact punched the air out of her, pain radiating up and down her whole torso as she coughed, trying to breathe. Her right arm was pinned in front of her, the other was holding away the flamethrower. He was blind but he could feel it, pressing his body into hers, holding her down, giving himself a moment to catch his breath and get his bearings.

The Darksaber was angled and dug into her stomach plate, the heat rapidly building up as Militia felt the searing burn along her stomach.

The green shifted, the hammer abandoning her hand and being replaced by an ion grenade.

She primed it.

Pre was still blind, his senses not back yet.

So he was completely unprepared for the sudden pain as an ion charge exploded point blank and electrocuted both of them.

The Mandalore screamed, his entire body spasming as blue electricity danced over his armor and flesh, making him jerk and twitch.

Hannah grit her teeth. The pain was excruciating, but she didn’t have time for it. The green shifted and the scream howling out of her lungs was almost as satisfying as the axe blow that came straight down on the bastard's shoulder.

Blood gushed free of the wound but the armor mesh held, preventing a worse injury but he was hurt, bleeding, and Hannah didn’t need to be a Zakkeg to pounce on wounded prey.

She pulls as he pulls, tearing the head of the axe out of his shoulder as he stumbled back. She wanted to press the attack but aftershocks of the ion blast made her stumble and her legs shake, and Pre had just enough time to jerk his arm forward, ten whistling little rockets coming sailing out of the weapon and dancing above and between them.

Her eyes widened, recognizing the danger of the infamous whistling birds as she dropped instantly, practically falling on her ass as the axe shifted into a massive pavise shield, hiding under it like a protective tent as the rockets shrieked and pelted the protective layer. She felt the sharp spikes of agony lance through her mind, the tiny projectiles being more than enough to destroy even the simulated beskar of the shield several times over, only failing due to the fact that her power couldn’t break.

Then, Hannah felt a line of fire across the whole side of her face, pain blooming across her cheek and eye, red bursting across her vision. The burn was agony and she couldn’t help but scream long and loud. It was only her decades of experience that locked away the panic, that let her deduce in a fraction of a second that one of the smart rockets had  twisted itself over the shield and struck her helmet, the angle just shallow enough to tear through the metal along her face and not instantly kill her by ripping through the top of her skull.

She shoved the pavise off her, hands fumbling, flailing, ripping off the helmet and its molten, jagged tear off her cheek and face. Her left eye was shut, unsure if it was blood and pain making her blind or if she had no eye at all anymore, but she didn’t have time to care right now about that either. 

She looked at Pre, the cracks along his visor giving way to full on shattering under the stress, the gouges by the hammer having deformed the metal. 

His eyes were red, tears trailing down his cheeks, but his vision was cleared enough to identify where she was as he held the blade up, tip facing her.

Hannah lunged.

His vision hadn’t fully returned, leading to his defense being too textbook, too broad.

It was easy to bait out a swing and slip into his guard.

The green shifted into a knife.

He was ready, snatching her hand seconds before it reached his neck, the knife glowing green in her grip.

She shifted it into a gun.

His eyes widened, jerking the weapon to the side to avoid the bullet that would have ripped through his brain.

But that didn’t save him from the sound. 

A .44 Magnum going off point blank next to your ear hurts.

To a man already disoriented, she may as well have set off a grenade.

Pre screamed. Hell, most of them screamed. He reeled, trying to get away, to shove her back, and the green shifted to a blade tipped boot.

He never saw the kick coming.

It punctured through the armor weave mesh, only the tip cutting a line into the man’s inner thigh. The strength in his leg was gone, and he fell to one knee as Hannah danced around him, twisting with pure momentum. The green shifted again….

And when Hannah swung, a warhammer smashed to the back of Pre Viszla’s skull.

The Mandalore rocketed forward, his entire body going slack, the front of his chest and face hitting the floor like a gong with a bounce.

By the time he hit the floor a second time, she planted a boot on his helmet, rolling to expose the already broken visor to her eye.

The gun was in her hand.

Two shots, two clinks of shells hitting the ground like death knells.

The first bullet punched into Pre Vizsla’s eye and brain.

The second was just making sure.

She panted, shoulders rising and falling, chest heaving, the side of her face still feeling like it was on fire. Her arm was burnt, her muscles twitched and spasmed from aftershocks of the ion grenade, and her legs were shaking under her armor.

She turned. 

There was a hallway of utterly silent Mandalorians staring at her.

The green shifted.

A howitzer was dug into the metal flooring behind her, staring the mob down. 

“Who the fuck is next?” She snarled. 

None of them moved.

Then… one knelt. 

His armor was blue and purple. Clan Kast. He fell to one knee, head bowed.

Another followed. Clan Eldar.

Another. Then another.

Before long… they were all down on one knee.

Hannah swallowed. Her throat was dry, the adrenaline wearing off, all of the pain coming back in waves now and it was all she could do to put one foot in front of the other, to march through the throng of kneeling Mandalorians to reach Satine, Imir, her husband, Organa and Mothma.

“Miss Saxon.” Satine called worriedly as Hannah reached her, moving to help her walk as Hannah marched past her towards her goal.

Aras still hadn’t moved, and she was grateful that Satine was next to her as her knees almost felt like they were about to fold completely when she tried to kneel. 

But she didn’t fold nor fall. She reached his side, and her hands pulled up his arm, booting up the tacpad on his wrist.

Still alive… his readings said he was still alive.

She almost cried in relief and only just stopped herself, knowing that if she did, the salt from her tears would already make the pain along the left eye even worse.  

“Mand’alor.”

The word had her spin around, gun drawn, her new blind spot making her panic as it took her longer than she would normally have to find her target.

But she didn’t fire.

The man was kneeling.

And he was offering Pre Vizsla’s blade to her, holding it out like an offering.

Hannah just stared.

“Take it.” Imrir said somewhere beside Satine. “Winner or not, we’re in no position to make more enemies right now.”

Hannah had investigated Death Watch for years. She knew that Pre had some sort of religious or iconoclastic hold over many in their ranks. The exact nature of it had never been clear.

She could assume this black lightsaber was it, then.

She dispelled the gun, turning it into a knife that was sheathed at her side as she reached forward.

The man passed the Darksaber onto her hand.

—

Alexandria

She couldn’t win.

She’d faced down monsters she couldn’t defeat before. 

Glaistig, Leviathan, Behemoth, Simurgh… hell, Contessa.

She knew she wasn’t all powerful.

But this… this admission cut deeper somehow. 

The tactician in her told her to retreat. To fly away and warn the Jedi, help them run, help them rally. Palpatine had already shown some ability to shut down her powers, at least temporarily. There was no reason he couldn’t do it again. Staying here, fighting him, distracting him, it was a waste. 

It wasn’t even as though he needed to pull on the selfdestructive power that had been ravaging his body against the Jedi to hold her off… or torture her. She could tell the decaying process on his flesh had stopped. 

She couldn’t win. 

But something else, something at the back of her mind was demanding that she stay. That she keep him here, telling her that this wasn’t over, even though by every metric it was.

But she listened, she obeyed. As many times as the lightning made her mind go blank with pain, as much as the telekinesis battered and threw her against the walls and floors, as much as she heard him cackle and laugh and taunt… she kept getting back up.

Again, and again, and again.

That voice at the back of her mind was insistent, demanding, pleading. 

And so… she got back up, once more.

Her arm throbbed. She didn’t know if it was supposed to hurt this much or if he was using his grab-bag of powers to amplify the pain, but she could barely even move straight with her bones scraping together as they did. 

The world above her rumbled and quaked. She’d never been subject to orbital bombardment, but she had to assume that’s what was happening.

Another charge, another exchange of lightning blasts while she struck empty air, more pain. She pushed through it, trying again and again. She kept trying until her vision blurred, until the pain almost made her vomit. 

His voice slithered through the chamber, mocking, his yellow eyes leering. A child pulling the wings off a fly.

This time when she hit the ground, the pain didn’t stop, it kept coming. Even as she bit down the screams, a part of her mind kept moving.

Had the chipped clones taken control of the shield generators? Had there been infiltration units in the fleet assets?

Or maybe he’d just hidden countless bombs across Coruscant to cause mass destruction and distraction. 

She wouldn’t put it past him but ultimately, she didn’t know. She didn’t know anything down here. Blind and deaf to everything.

Again, she thought about leaving and again, something in her mind urged her to -Stay-.

And so… she got up… one more time.

She opened her eyes, glaring.

Sidious' body crackled, his eyes glowing like embers in the gloom, casting a light that almost let her see his face under the hood, the flash of that sight told her all she needed to know.

He’d had his fun.

Whatever he was about to do, it was meant to kill her.

His hand twitched, and her foot slammed down onto the metal floor, sheer force shearing a slab of durasteel free of its weld lines and snapping boltings as the slab rose up between her and whatever attack was meant to strike her. 

A red pulsing energy washed over the edges of the slab.

And then, the chamber was an inferno.

Metal glowed red hot, and it was like a second sun exploded into the sky above, Alexandria’s gaze snapped upwards following the shrieking comet before it crashed barely a two or so dozen feet to her left.

The blast, inside the confined space was like a nuke going off. The metal slab in her hand was practically flash melted in her grip, sloughing down to the floor like molten wax as the most damaged sections of Alexandria’s costume, where the Tinkertech had been compromised began to burn and flake.

That’s when she heard the crawling, deafening noise of buzzing and skittering.

A sound that made her own heart race with what she knew was an instinctive, reflexive fear.

She squinted, peering into the blinding light of the crackling flames.

She saw her, a black shadow in the firelight, the eyes of her mask shining like polished topaz.

And something in her recoiled. A part of her mind, screaming. 

This wasn’t Hebert.

This was… her.

The thing…

The monster that killed the Warrior. 

—

Vicky

No matter how hard she tried… the air just couldn’t seem to get in her lungs.

Vicky’s entire body hurt by now, her throat was raw, her lungs burned, her muscles cramped. The wound at her side sapped her strength. 

And she knew she couldn’t let any of it matter.

Because if it did; if she lost now then…

Grievous’ blades were a blurr to her eyes, even her cybernetic could barely keep up. Every blow felt like it came out of nowhere, every time she moved to defend herself or strike back she felt like she was swinging while her whole body was submerged in water and Grievous was just coated in quicksilver. 

A kick cracked into her ribs, her forcefield taking the blow but still she felt her whole body rattle, like a doll being whipped through the air by a careless child and it was only through what could only be pure stubbornness that she arrested her movement, stopping herself in the air as the Cyborg came at her again. 

The bacta patch at her side tore open, blood oozing from the wound and trickling down her side, dripping from her leg. 

The monstrous Sithspawn still battled clones and Jedi below in the Conclave hall, Droids poured in from the breach that Grievous had tore into the lines. B-1’s and B-2’s adding to the pure chaos of the mosh pit. 

All of them, Jedi and clones both were trusting her to fight the metal kaleesh one more time. To hold him off as long as they needed.

They were counting on her; and she couldn’t fail them. .

But even so, regardless of what she though, Grievous’ saber struck her blade with titanic, almost irresistible force, as she parried it aside, darting and weaving, slipping in and out of range of his multiple strikes, praying for just a second, a brief moment where she could find something to exploit before everything caught up with her. 

She danced between the strikes, blue and green and yellow lightsabers all barely missing her flesh and gossamer thin forcefield, courting death with every passing second. 

Then, something cracked into the general’s back.

The impact didn’t move him, barely even lurched him, but suddenly he was yanked away from her and Vicky found her eyes darting towards the source, a long cable leading from the General’s back towards a heavy weapon team reeling him in like a fish on a harpoon from a balcony above them.

“Now!” One of the clones shouted. Four heat seeking missiles howled as they screamed from launcher canons. Grievous roared blades whipping about, slicing two of the missiles, the other two struck true, one against his leg, the other across his chest.

She saw one lightsaber tumble, falling down into the melee below the Cyborg reached around, grasping at the cord harpooning him before he pulled.

The whole weapon platform was torn off of the balcony, stone and masonry ripped apart as Grievous swung the entire ensemble like a long corded flail, the magnet that had been attached to him ripped from his back, as he struck one of the rocketeers and threw the weapon at another, killing both men before Vicky made it to him, closing the distance.

In mid air grievous turned, rounding on her one blade swung, she ducked, another and she parried that one, shunting it aside.

It was the third limb that caught her blind, never even sensing the danger before it cracked her along the face, her whole head whipping to the side.

“AAARGH!”

One of the Clones, a heavy weapons man without even a jetpack, threw himself from the ramparts howling at the top of his lungs.

He landed on Grievous' back, throwing off the blow that might have killed her.

And he was burned alive for his efforts.

The clone screamed, the flames of Grievous’ jet engines cooking him in his own armor.

And even as he died the man shoved the barrel of his blaster rifle straight into the cyborg’s spinal column, firing again and again and again in a full-auto stream of blaster shots that cooked the barrel and warped the rifle.

Grievous roared, thrashing this way and that way, trying to throw the clone off even as the man in his death throes clung on.

It was more than enough of an opening.

She thrust her lightsaber forward, the blue blade sliding between the thin “bones” of his segmented arms, plating glowed red hot from the heat but held, nothing on him would cut but she didn’t need it to cut.

With the blade snagged between the slivers of metal that was his arm, Vicky twisted.

Like the corkscrew head of a bottle opener the length of the blade made a lever that she used to literally twist Grievous’ arm until articulated joints and physics did the rest.

With the sound of shattering, screeching steel one arm gave way, snapping off, tatters of spindly steel dangling uselessly.

Grievous roared, once more focusing on her and one more time Vicky tried to dodge.

Unable to sense the danger, Vicky focused on his sabers.

Which is why she never saw the kick coming.

Grievous’ claws hit her full force, right over her open wound.

She couldn’t even scream, every shred of air seemed to leave her body in an instant, white hot pain made her mind go blank.

She never remembered hitting the ground.

—

Karla

So… That’s it.

These devices were insidious things.

In spite of herself, Karla felt a vicious smile curling at her lips. 

I think I’ll enjoy using the Sith’s weapon against him.

With a nudge the device in her hands began emitting a very different signal. 

—

Grievous

As his blow catapulted Dallon, sending her body tearing through the walls of the temple below in a cloud of dust, Grievous knew he’d hurt her; if he could have physically smiled he would have, triumph sang in his chest.

He’d won.

And then, down below, he saw something confusing.

The Sith spawn, that black scaled monstrosity stopped moving; even as it was being shot at.

Then, slowly, its head panned upwards.

And it stared straight at him.

What?

That’s about as far as his thoughts went.

The beast turned to smoke, and in the next instant it reformed, right next to him its jaws slamming shut teeth grinding against Grievous’ metal body as it bit down and shook him through the air like a mongrel with a toy.

His legs trapped in the beasts maw, Grievous roared in rage as he began fighting back, as best he could.

—

Karla

The Sithspawn, as intelligent as they were, as powerful as they were; still functioned as animals.

Territorial, predatory.

They ate living things but they preferred Force Sensitives. Drawing them to hunt Jedi in the Jedi temple, that had been easy.

But keeping them here, keeping them fighting when under attack by Clones, other Jedi, when they were being hurt and killed.

That was something different at play.

The Shards suppressed Jedi senses, yes but they also directed the spawn. Lowering their natural survival instinct just like the Jedi, heightening aggression. Designating these grounds as its territory.

If not for her Master, she never would have sensed it.

But she did sense it, she did see it. 

And so that’s where she realized she could strike from.

Her mind spread out, using the shard in her hands as a conduit, using her own emotional control to appear as little more than another blank shard to its rudimentary defenses, slipping in like a Force bound virus as she altered its systems from within.

She only changed one thing.

Rather than hunt prey in its territory; she directed the monsters to drive out rival predators,

After all, no Apex predator can tolerate a rival.

—

Sidious

His robes wanted to catch fire.

Only the lack of oxygen around his body was keeping that from happening.

Sidious held his breath, the air in his lungs sustaining him through careful Force manipulation. How long could he keep it up; he couldn’t say for certain. 

This… needed to be over quickly.

Hebert stalked forward, her body almost unnaturally still in her gait. He could feel her holding up the floor as the metal under her feet bubbled and boiled, threatening to melt and sink her into the superheated steel. 

But he could not sense the… being, the entity. The one that existed in the shadow of Alexandria, Dallon and the others. That quintessence of strange powers. 

All he sensed… was a singularity. 

Her presence in the Force was like staring at a supernova; it clashed and crackled against his own, the howling screaming void of dead souls swelling at his back, a well of near endless power to draw from to fight her.

And yet… he couldn’t help but feel… nervous.

He smiled, pulse quickening.

Hebert didn’t say a single word. 

Then, the ground underneath him burst open.

Sidious leapt away, some monster from the bowels of Coruscant's underworld clawing after him, jaws snapping, compound eyes shining bloody red like rubies.

Then came the swarm.

A mass of chitin and bodies, insects that flew and crawled, shielded one and all from the heat by even more precise Force manipulation that made him simply wonder at the possibilities. 

What an apprentice she would have made. 

Lightning burst from his hands, forking sparks lancing through the swarm, killing the mass of insects by the millions- he sought to land, only for another monster to be waiting for him, the half melted floors parting as it burst out from under it like a sea beast breaking through to the surface, it was large, its gaping maw was wide, threatening to swallow the Sith Lord whole.

Palpatine landed in its mouth.

Its jaws began to slam shut, crushing force and acidic bile looking to do what Jedi Knights and Alexandria could not, but with a single gesture the Sith lord flared bright blue electrical energy through the creature. The beast did not so much release him as disintegrate around him.

He leapt, escaping the dying monstrosity, more and more of the swarm consuming the space within the chamber, red eyes shining in the dark as insects the size of men and worse crawled out of the black.

His senses flickered, warning screaming and twisting in mid air he sent out another wave of telekinetic strength- the power rippling through space, crushing insects outright in bursts of blood before the wave broke apart, the giant, wingbeats unimpeded as a monster that looked like a flying scorpion whipped its tail through the air to strike him.

Palpatine’s saber flashed, the red carving through the limb letting it tumble through the air past him as he began to fall.

There, standing on the monster’s back, she watched. 

He couldn’t help but smile.

The swarm… moved in to devour.

—

Iskt

He didn’t know what the hell had happened.

One second the Sithspawn had been tearing through them and then the next, it was lunging through the air and fighting Grievous. 

Now the beasts were near the other end of the hall, two monsters fighting each other.

Iskt turned his attention away from them and towards the shattered hole his Master had been smashed into.

“General Iskt.”

The Trandoshan turned his head blinking. “Guelzo!?”

“Sir!” The Beskar clad trooper snapped a hasty salute, he saw other members of his squad trickling in behind him. Wolffe, Pratchett and Webber. “Don’t know what the hell’s happening, but those Dragons are attacking the droids.

“Nevermind that” He shook his head before pointing. “Master! She might be injured! Get up there!”

“On it.” Weber answered, grabbing hold of Prachett before he shot out a grapple hook, the projectile diggin into the concrete before the wrist mounted motor reeled them in. 

All around him troopers began to reorganize themselves, taking the unexpected lul in the battle to take stock of the men and Jedi left, commanders and captains hastily looking over holo maps and displays, trying to rapid fire deduce where lines had buckled, how far the droid attack column had spread through the temple itself. How much longer they had before CIS artillery was in range, how if any of the shield generators were compromised again, establishing hasty links with Fleet-Com to assess if they even had any fleet assets left in orbit.. Grievous was just the speartip; this attack wasn’t over.

“Sir. We’ve got her” He heard Prachett’s voice through Guelzo’s comm.

Guelzo must’ve heard something in his squad medic’s voice, because his next words made Iskt’ heart hurt. “How bad?”

The Trandoshan didn’t care to wait any longer, flooding his limbs with all the strength he could he launched himself upward with a Force enhanced leap, claws and talons digging into the marble stonework for purchase before leaping again, and again to reach the two story or so height difference.

He reached the edge of the shattered wall, pulling himself up, ruptured pipes sent streams of water between his fingers and claws, the concrete becoming a grey slurry as he marched through it.

He saw Weber first, Pratchett next, kneeling next to… his Master.

He saw her then, laying in the rubble, red blood covered her left side, trailing down into the water, turning it a muddy, rust red and brown, her breathing was ragged and wet.

But her eye, her organic eye was the worst. It was open, but there was nothing there, it was empty, almost dead, contrasting sharply with the cybernetic one that almost glowed cyan blue half hidden beneath her eyelid. 

Webber looked to him, hearing him approach. 

“We have to get her out of here.” The sniper said. “Keep her away from Grievous.”

Iskt agreed, even as he listened to what must’ve been the still ongoing fight between said Cyborg monster and the black scaled Dragon.

“You’re not moving me anywhere.”

He snapped his gaze back around, and his Masters eyes, once glassy and unseeing, now focused. 

She was in pain, sweat beaded her brow, she spat out a wad of blood.

But she was awake. “Patch me up.” She wheezed, swallowing thickly. “And make it quick.”

“Ma’am-” Pratchett growled. “You’re in no condition-”

She cut him off. “There’s nowhere to run.” She practically gasped out the words. “If we lose, we’re all dead!.” She grit her teeth, making herself glare at the medic. “So patch me up… and lets get back in there while there’s still a fight left to win.”

—

Palpatine

He was fighting an army with no end. 

For every slice of his blade, for every blast of lightning, for every telekinetic wave or entropic burst that drank the life essence from this, all consuming swarm.

It was eternal. 

It had no limit.

He could feel it, as the Dark Side swelled and spread across the whole of the planet he could feel Hebert contesting him, her mind consuming all in its path as she called every single insect across every corner of the globe to this place. Feeding them with the Force itself as they kept pouring relentlessly, tirelessly, battering themselves against him.

She was ready to quite literally drown him in the sheer weight of the world.

High above, she waited. A shell of power surrounding her like a fortress.

With a roar Palpatine gathered up all of his strength, all of his might in the Dark Side.

He screamed as his body burst with crackling forks of lightning, shining like an overloading powercore as electricity leapt from him, swallowing the whole of the chamber, killing millions, if not billions of the swarm in a single, uncontrolled blast, the lightning racing its way through the metal to reach the lowermost levels of the populated parts of Coruscant's underworld, giving him the few seconds he needed of breathing room.

He moved to leap.

Then fire rained from above. 

Pillars of flame crashed down like meteors, individual blasts tearing through the depths of the planet like they would sunder the world and split it in two.

He focused, pulling more power, digging deeper into the well, shielding himself from the heat wave that threatened to cook him alive, then the force that would have crushed his body with mere air pressure.

Then he lunged.

Practically flying through the air, Sidious rushed for the flying monster insect, he had seconds, a minute at most before another wave of her endless swarm was upon them, he needed to make the interval count.

His lightsaber flared to life. 

Hers did as well.

The clash of blades was almost a paltry, pathetic thing, next to the power of the Force itself.

But still, dance the dance they did, red and gold meeting again and again like Yoda’s had before.

She was not as skilled as the grandmaster, he was her better in saber combat.

And she recognized it.

With a swift, downward chop, Hebert sliced her own mount in half, carving it apart where Sidious’s half and her own began to fall.

She pushed.

The wave couldn’t overcome Sidious’ defenses.

But the mass of dead flesh he was using as a foothold had no such protection.

He was rocketed down, giving her the distance she sought before he lunged for her again. 

And like that- his window closed.

The swarm was upon him.

—

Grievous

Seven seconds.

That was the window of opportunity he had.

The beast could not convert back to smoke for seven seconds between uses.

Its hide was thick, B-2 wrist rockets were the only semi reliable means of dealing damage to those obsidian scales.

It was a clever beast, using trickery, feints, even weaponry.

But it was still just a beast.

Their battleground was a ruined mess of shattered concrete and twisted steel, a Jedi amphitheater turned into torn up masonry and garbage.

More droids poured in, more clones met them; Grievous didn’t understand what had happened to turn these beasts against him, and the droids, if it was something the Jedi did, or an ill timed betrayal by Sidious, but whatever it was he would not be stopped. Not now. Not when Dallon was so close to death he could all but taste it.

He only needed to get past this pest.

His right arm was whole, he didn’t hold a lightsaber in it, the blades had already proven useless against the monster’s hide, the segment of his left arm that still functioned did hold a blade, it was too weak to deliver the force necessary to harm the monster anyway, and if he had a chance to stab at its eye, or somewhere else that was more vulnerable on the monster he’d take it. 

He tensed, ready to charge, or defend himself.

Then the Monster turned to smoke.

He expected an attack, eyes watching his sides, listening for movement behind him.

But then a streak of white and gold came from right infront of him.

Grievous’ eyes widened in alarm-

Dall-

He never finished the thought.

The woman’s came in like a rushing maglev train, both feet crashing dead center into Grievous’ chest- red warning lights flashed across his internal displays, catastrophic damage caving in his chestplates, endangering the still organic pieces housed within.

He couldn’t breathe, but he felt his internals seize up, a spasm of genuine pain ripping through the meat parts of his brain as he was sent flying.

He smashed through wall after wall after wall, barely even recognizing the time between impacts before he was cleared completely from the temple, the Corruscanti sun, choked in smog and flames and insect shadows bore down on him.

He hit the ground, metal scraping across duracrete, as he tried to get his feet under him.

Then, Dallon’s hands grabbed him by the skull.

The woman screamed, roared, twisting her entire body carrying grievous in his uncontrolled tumble to a spin before smashing him into the dirt, his body cratering the road, skipping across unyielding granite like a rock skipping across a pond.

She didn’t let up.

Her hand grabbed at his ankle, arresting his movement with a sudden reverse of momentum that threatened to rattle his brain in its suspended gel, the joints of his leg nearly ripping free completely, more red warning lights flared. 

And then she started beating him against the floor.

He was a rag doll in her hands, an oversized mannequin she was using to destroy the street in her fury.

Grievous barely had time to get his bearings, getting ready to attack before he was thrown again, this time attempting to arrest his movement with flight, jetpack engines roaring to life, giving him control as he took to the skies, barely catching a glimpse of the electric discharge droids still keeping the insects and flames from reaching the temple before a shadow was above him, and the Fist that smashed into his head quite literally cracked open his skull as he was sent careening back down to the ground, creating another crater.

Grievous lay there, servo motors catching, emitters sparking. His internal readouts were showing far far too much damage.

But even so, he moved, pulling himself free of the rubble and the ruin to stand.

He looked to Dallon.

She was vomiting red.

—

Vicky

No… Not now!

“I don’t know how long you’ve got. The stims will keep you moving but the more you push yourself the faster you’ll bleed, the more the damage will accelerate and spread. If you’ve got any chance to end it, end it fast General.”

She could hear her own heartbeat in her ears, her limbs felt cold, her organic eye couldn’t see, her cybernetic one was displaying a slew of diagnostic concerns. 

I think I’m dying. She realized.

She still flew, hovered in the air, only faintly recognizing Grievous’ outline as three lightsaber blades lit up, green and blue glows drawing her one functioning eye.

Shit…

It was like her mind was swimming through mud, recognizing as Grievous moved, lunging towards her, but being unable to do anything to stop it. 

The blades rose, ready to tear into her.

And then a flash of… purple.

And the Cyborg was thrown back, an arm coiling around Vicky’s waist, pulling her close, dragging her down. She didn’t have the strength to resist as she was pulled and then set down on the ground, her vision swimming, eyes rolling in her skull.

She felt hands cradling her head, warmth at her side, distantly she recognized Master Tii’s force presence beside her.

Painfully, her eyes peeled open, she tried to focus, her sight fixating… on that purple lightsaber.

She recognized the voice. Master Windu…

“This party’s over”

—

Taylor

He’s strong.

I can see… why Yoda and the others died. 

Even without this… this profanation of the Force… this monstrous ritual… he was still extremely powerful. 

More of my swarm came, the monsters from deep beneath the world of Coruscant. All of them. From the tiniest house fly to the largest monster that could crush a house between its teeth, they heeded my call.

An army that could devour the whole of the planet. All to kill one man. 

Anyone else would have been overwhelmed.

Anyone else would never have gotten this far.

But he wasn’t anyone else.

Because he was still winning.

Inch by inch, meter by meter, Sidious clawed his way to me, bursts of lightning and Force driven entropy cleared swathes of bodies. I could sense his rage… and beneath that, desperation.

It fueled his strength in the Dark Side. 

And it told me that I could win like this. I could win this way.

But how long would it take?

How many people would die above?

He wasn’t the only one desperate to finish this. 

Because for all our power in the Force, functionally, we were dealing with reserves of power that had no end. 

And so, the fastest way to win was still… the lightsaber. 

So I let him come, let him carve through the army, let him draw closer and closer, before I met his advance, holding my breath as I fell into the oxygen deprived space around him. 

My own blade lit up, red and gold crackled and spat against each other as we clashed. 

I know the opening I’m looking for. The moment. 

I’ll only have one shot.

He’s fast. 

Faster than me.

But I don’t have to be faster to win.

Because I don’t play fair.

The red blade sizzles as it slashes across the cheek of my mask. I feel its sting on my bicep as my left arm is just a hair too slow.

When our blades clash, a surge of strength smashes my lightsaber out of my hands, sending it tumbling through the air

He presses in. 

He knows he can win. 

And I see my moment.

It’s just there, a fraction of a second’s delay.

In all the Chaos, you’d never see it.

A Gossamer thin silk string, coiled around Palpatine’s foot, making him stumble. 

I rush.

I can see the moment he recognizes the danger, the misstep, He tries to pull away, to swing.

I don’t give him the chance.

I’m in his guard, my hand grabbing at his wrist, seizing the swing with all the strength I have. His power surges, flooding his body, my hold won’t keep for long but it doesn’t need to.

The faceplate of my mask cracks against his nose, the headbut shattering bone with a burst of blood.

His other hand flexes, looking to draw the hidden lightsaber at his wrist, the one he’d been keeping as a trump card.

Another silk string has me yanking it out of his wrist mid slide into my own hand.

The red blade lights up.

He doesn’t have time to do more than realize what’s happened before I swing.

Red parts flesh.

There’s no blood.

There never is with lightsabers. 

Fires crackle and burn.

…

“I didn’t think you’d be able to dodge…” 

The Sith Lord glares at me. He’s farther away now, his hand clutching at the slash that had nearly bisected him from hip to shoulder.

The wound is deep. Even for a Sith, high on pain and fear, it's debilitating. 

The swarm clicks and clacks around us, red eyes glowing as they close in for the kill.

I pull my own saber back into my hand. Severing the red one with a flick of the wrist, the touch of it alone is enough to nearly make me feel sick.

The smile is gone from his face. I don’t see pain there, only rage, hate… and what I’d only seen once before, a lifetime ago.

He breathes, and the words that leave his mouth make me stiffen.

“Very well.”

I don’t see what he does. But in the next instant, the world beneath us begins to quake. 

I can feel it, literally through the billions of subterranean insects across the planet, through the senses of the swarm I hear droid custodians across every level blaring out warnings. 

Then, in the distance, the furnace, the gaping maw leading into the flames fueled by the planet’s core, flared bright.

The Force screams, howling at me, at us, and my mind is flooded with data, knowledge, memories, that I parse through as the Queen Administrator brings its knowledge to the forefront. Because of the whole that is us, only she’s seen something like this before. 

And I know what he’s done. 

The core. Somehow, he’s destabilized the core!

Everyone, everything… the planet itself would be destroyed entirely!

When I look back to Sidious, the smile has returned.

“Save them.” He mocked. “If you can.”

I set my bugs on him, the swarm rushing in to devour him as I flew as fast as I could, running to get away to see if there was anything I could do. 

—

Grievous

Windu.

Windu!

There were only four Jedi he’d been warned were his match.

Dallon, Hebert, Yoda, and Windu.

Grievous snarled, every warning light and status alert still flashing behind his eye, warning him of the damage across his entire frame.

Windu was a fight he was advised against taking on while at his strongest…

And Dallon made sure he was not at his strongest.

His eyes flickered to her, bleeding across the ground, a Red skinned Togruta holding her in her arms. 

All that stood between him and finally killing that blasted perfect Jedi… was Windu…

Grievous eyed the human, clothes singed, light cuts along his face, his stance… prepared. Blade held low, its tip almost touching the ground.

All he had to do was get past him.

Just for a moment.

The Cyborg’s legs tensed, his body hunching low, three sabers raised high, tips facing the Master of the Order.

Windu didn’t move.

Grievous’ eyes narrowed.

When he charged, he pushed his systems to their absolute limit, overclocking servos, disabling safety limiters, his vision blurred along the edges as his eyes couldn’t fully keep up.

Windu swung his blade from floor to sky.

And a shower of molten sparks, from where his blade had dug into the stone at their feet, were flicked onto Grievous’ eyes.

He flinched, eyes closing for a fraction of a second, his rushing charge faltering.

He felt something grab hold of his body, the force jerking him off step and his bloodshot eyes snapped open, glaring down, only to see Windu grabbing hold of the damaged section of chest plating, the palm of his hand sliced open by the sharp edges- but still he held fast, brown eyes glaring up at Grievous, lips curled back in a sneer before he tore.

In a display of raw strength and speed, Windu ripped clean the underside rib cage of Grievous’ chest armor, the damage dallon had done, compromising the section enough for him to brute force a hole, exposing Grievous’ organic meat to open air.

Grievous’ eyes widened, his blades swinging, Jetpack activating to escape.

But the Jedi Master was liquid mercury, sidestepping strike after strike, not even bothering to fall into the trap of contending with Grievous’ brute force with his own lightsaber before that bloodied fist whipped out, lightning fast, punching Grievous square in his already cracked skull.

The crack widened, splitting straight down his center face plate.

Grievous’ jetpack howled, screaming as he tried to run to escape and pull away, but that same fist that had punched him clenched tight pulling and the Cyborg was yanked back down to earth, barely a foot away from the Master of the order.

The General’s mind moved quick, trying to think of a plan, of another escape, of a distraction, he threw one lightsaber, hurtling it through the air like a lance straight for Dallon, but the Togruta’s blade battered it aside and-

Pain.

Burning, searing pain. 

Grievous tried to breathe, to reflexively expand his lungs in the mimmicry of life but the burning searing pain only grew, his gaze snapped down, finding that purple lightsaber slipping straight through the hole torn into his side, burning away the flesh within. 

He screamed, half in pain, half in fear. His arms moved, trying to swing but the mechanisms jammed, stalling and grinding.

Windu dug his saber in deeper.

Warning’s blared, diagnostics informing him in real time as organ after organ was burned and failed.

Frantically he sent out orders, uplinks to droid commands flailing as he called for help, ordered the droids to press the attack, ordered the fleet to deliver orbital bombardments at his position. Spite and desperation pushing the last of his instincts before his body failed completely.

The last thing Grievous saw before his eyes burst into flames was the burning red sky shining under the Coruscant planetary shield. 

—

Windu

The monster collapsed, a smoking charred ruin encased in steel falling like so much detritus. 

Windu turned away from him running towards Master Shaak Tii and the bleeding Master Dallon.

His eyes beheld the bleeding near broken woman, feeling her life force flickering, trying to cling to her body and felt guilt welling within.

He couldn’t save Yoda, even with Hebert leading him and the other Masters back to the temple he might be too late to have saved Dallon.

Shaak Tii looked at him, her face grim. She was no Jedi healer but she was pouring all of her effort into keeping the maverick Master alive and with them.

Windu looked towards the temple.

Artillery barrages hammered the shields, droid heavy platforms seemingly trying to sunder the entire compound, death, fear, desperation and suffering drowned the temple like a miasma.

Master Knoll, Diath and Antilles  stood nearby, waiting for him. Waiting for orders even as they desperately wished to rush in.

“Master Diath, stay with Master Tii protect Master Dallon.”

The old master nodded, he wished to go, Windu could see that- but there was no doubt in any of their minds that the only reason there was even a temple still standing was because of Dallon. Leaving her unguarded, was… unacceptable.

“Master Antilles, Master Knoll, we-”

He never got to finish.

Because that’s when the world began to shake. 

—

Taylor.

I reached the furnace as the world began to shake itself apart.

I could feel, a hemisphere away, long dormant volcanoes rumbling to life, blasting heat into the underbelly of the lower city. In minutes, lava would blast out of rapidly swelling rock.

I felt life die, crushed under relentless pressures as tectonic plates warped and shifted, foundation blocks that could have literally been whole continents were shattered like match sticks, droids and planetary stabilization and weather control tech began to overclock, trying to compensate for the rapid destabilization of the world itself.

And behind me, Palpatine was still fighting, still alive, still tearing his way through the army of insects, only now he was laughing, cackling, reveling in the fact that even though he lost, he’d always rigged the game to bring everyone else down with him. That no one could claim a victory over him.

My hatred grew, but I turned my attention away, focusing instead on anything I could do.

Khepri. I was Khepri, Queen administrator and Taylor. Taylor knew nothing here, but the Queen did.

I parsed through Data, Memory, examining everything that she had at speeds that no mortal, not even Alexandria could replicate and the part of me that was Taylor could determine only one solution, however desperate.

And like that, I stretched forth my Will.

And the Force across the Galaxy rippled and then heaved. 

—

Karla

“They’re bringing the temple down!”

She hears the cry come from Asimov, desperate, even as he fires his rifle.

Clones and droids, Clones and droids. Its a mosh pit, a sea of chaos and brawling hand to hand combat as armored men and Jedi desperately try to survive for single second longer.

They’ve been pushed back to their last rally point, their last holdout at the base of the Tranquility spire.

Karla doesn’t know how many Jedi are alive, how many Clones are alive or if reinforcements are coming or if the whole world beyond these four walls is destroyed, all she knows is that this is it there is nowhere else to run to, nowhere else to go. 

She sees Iskt amidst the carnage, a breakwater fighting Jedi Hunter droids and the new models, Karla does her best to summon the last of the Sithspawn here, but the beasts now are too small compared to the downed Monster that had fought Miss Vicky and Grievous, too outnumbered to tear their way through the metal army to make it here.

The Droids push forward, seemingly driven by a mad frenzy even as the temple shakes and collapses all around them. 

She draws her lightsaber and fights.

She swings and punches and claws and tears her way to Iskt’s side, her mind and body a frenzy of movement. If she’s going to die, she wants it to be there, next to him. 

She sees Master Beq, overwhelmed, an ocean of metal washing over him with blaster fire and Jedi hunter droids.

She sees Asimov, his blaster barking as he fires and fires and fires before a rocket tears through his side.

She sees Pratchet, still trying to save wounded Jedi and clones even in the midst of the Chaos before one of the new models reaches him, smashing the medic aside with bone breaking force that sends him in a broken heap across the marble floors.

Wolffe’s leg is gone, and still he shoots with blaster pistol in one hand.

She hears Webber’s sniper rifle firing still firing again and again and again.

Then, it falls silent, a shrieking missile and an explosion far above tell her what’s happened.

She reaches Iskt. He’s bleeding, his scales are fire red. He’s tired and he can’t protect them all. Can’t fight them all. He sees her amidst the frenzied melee and his relief is only outweighed by his dismay. He knows the odds for her. For all of them.

Cid dies a moment later consumed by a droid flamethrower, roaring in pain and defiance as he throws himself into the metal bomb, vanishing in an explosion. 

She fights and she fights, until her arms are heavy, until she can’t even tell one droid from another, until the piles of dead, organic and machine alike are practically drowning them.

She’s not sure when Guelzo makes it to her. All she knows is that she turns, already swinging her blade, only for it to meet armored Beskar as he blocks her strike. 

The temple shakes and she can see it breaking appart all around them, crushing droid, clone and Jedi alike.

“Goodbye, little General”

With cracks and breaks that rattle through her own bones, the earth trembles.

And the Jedi temple shatters, collapsing.

A mass grave for one and all.

—

The Manarai Mountains

These stretches of Mountain are the single strip of uncovered land on Coruscant. The only spot of ‘nature’ in the vast ecumonopolis that was the endless city. An island of stone and green amidst a sea of duracrete and steel. 

These were not volcanic mountains.

But as the planet began to shake itself apart, with a sudden ferocity, as though all of the world’s fire and fury could only find a single outlet, the massive mountain range including its great twin peaks burst open.

It would be the largest eruption in the planets’ recorded history. 

Millions upon millions of tons of ash, molten rock and plumes of smoke were hurtled into the atmosphere, the full fury of the world itself blanketing the sky in endless ash and dust.

To those who could sense it, the Force seemed to collapse in on the planet, a swarm of locusts descending on a carcass.

Natural destruction battled against artificial preservation, the collapse of the planet’s mantle was halted, Earthquakes flared up and subsided just as quickly. Even as she funneled it, heat and pressure burst from the hidden surface of the world, melting whole sections of the undercity, millions of people dying in fear, and terror. 

Far below the world, Taylor Hebert, Queen Administrator, Khepri screamed as she pulled all of her considerable might to the task. Even the insects she’d been directing against Palpatine faltered in their efforts, her control slipping away as all of her focus fell here, to this. 

Then, she felt a touch, the ghost at her back. Her howling mind could barely identify it, worrying it was Sidious, to try and sabotage her, to stop her. 

But it wasn’t.

She recognized this presence.

New strength flowed into her, almost more than she could bear, her eyes opened, blood leaking from her tear ducts and down her face.

Anakin?

And she could see him.

Through the eyes of a million insects and a billion ears she could see him as he stepped in front of the Sith.

Don’t worry… He whispered, Lightsaber igniting, pale blue bathing the hell struck chamber, reflecting off his eye that seemed to almost glow like silver moonlight in the dark. ‘I’m here.’

—

Sidious

“Skywalker…”

The youngest Jedi Master of the Order stood across from him, his presence in the Force, a tightly coiled sphere around his body, dense and impenetrable, the core of a black hole in the Force.

Yoda had been his match. Hebert an anomaly.

Skywalker…

Skywalker was an unknown. 

Powerful. That was obvious. But the intervening years between distant Naboo upon their first meeting, and here, on their last had been far too chaotic, too divergent from his plans. 

Even with the interest he had, he could not watch the boy’s career as closely as he would have liked. 

But Sidious could feel Hebert’s strength faltering, her power waning. If she succeeded in saving this planet from its physical destruction… there was no one left to oppose him. No one to stand in his way.

He would have won.

That meant… the only thing between Sidious and final victory…

Was this lone Jedi.

He was wounded, the blow Hebert had delivered had cut deep, and much of his strength was being spent right now in keeping his body functioning, pure hate and spite fueling his body as much as will and drive.

But Skywalker was injured as well, and Sidious could feel his own strength flickering and sputtering. A torch in the wind and rain. 

He saw the boy tense, muscles coiling tight.

It was the only warning he had.

Sidious’ weapon rose before he could think, the screaming warning in the Force, his body’s instinctive defense, the only thing that kept his head attached to his shoulders as sky blue crashed into ruby red. 

The strength was tremendous, and as the dance of blades began in earned, his Juyo was repelled by Soresu, Makashi turned against him with Djem-so, Shi-cho overwhelmed by Ataru, and Niman dissected with Makashi in turn, Sidious realized with wide eyed incredulity-

I’m being… pushed back!?

His skill with the blade had overcome all of the greatest lightsaber combatants of this age. Dooku, Yoda, even Hebert.

But here, this one Master, with nothing of note to his name above those titans was… besting him!

What is this!?

His fury spiked, and once more, he reached into that bottomless well of strength, the screaming void of souls. Pain ravaged his body and simply added greater strength in the Dark Side to his old and withered form.

This time, when their weapons struck Sidious saw the surprise and alarm in the boy’s exposed eye, the moment he recognized the danger as his body was physically launched backwards with the sheer power of the blow.

Skywalker twisted in mid air, recovering to land on his feet at the end of the tumble, and Sidious was already ontop of him before he’d even fully planted his boots. 

The Sith lord struck again and again and again, even to his own eyes, the speed and ferocity of his flurry was near impossible to keep track of, the edges of his vision blurring red with the afterimage of the lightsaber’s trail streaking through the air as Skywalker retreated and pulled away.

And then-

A hand grabbed at his wrist.

Its grip was iron, unbreakable, as Sidious flooded his limb with greater strength the Force itself seemingly answered Anakin’s call to match him.

With a thought, a shattered slab of steel hurtled through the air to swipe Skywalkers legs, the speed and spin of the debris would have severed the limbs at the knee, but the Jedi leapt over it, and Sidious used the opportunity to pull his limb, yanking Skywalker with it to slam him into the ground in a throw, only for the Jedi reverse the throw with one of his own, sending the Sith sailing across the blackness of the chamber, chasing him down even before Palpatine’s feet reached the floor, not letting up for an instant.

Skywalker’s speed was comparable to his own…

No.

He was faster! And getting faster still!

Sidious lifted more pieces of debris, more shattered and broken piles of the destroyed anteroom, metal, duracrete, even pieces of Hebert’s destroyed insects, all were sent hurtling towards the approaching Jedi Master with the speed and power of a cannonblast.

Skywalker dodged and weaved, dancing between all of them, only the blue of his lightsaber told Palpatine where he was with the speed that he moved.

He was close, closer and Palpatine prepared to blast the Jedi with lightning only to realize-

The blade was moving on its own.

The Sith lord’s shock stole the breath from his lungs

How!?

Then, Pain exploded across the side of his face- the fist cracking against his jaw felt like it had the strength to tear his head off, head whipping to the side, he was wide open.

Skywalker roared, the blue of his eye almost luminescent; the second strike shattered Sidious’ forearm, his lightsaber flying free of his deadned fingers, a third blow to the stomach, another to the ribs, a fifth to the other side of Sidious’ jaw.

Every blow was like a hammer strike, bones shattered, organs hemorrhaged; The force behind every strike amplified the damage a thousand fold, as though Skywalker was literally sending drills of pure force manipulation through the Sith’s insides. 

For the first time in decades Sidious felt pain that made his mind go blank with agony. 

Then fury.

He wouldn’t die to this! NOT NOW!

Sidious howled.

The scream ripped into Skywalker's mind, stopping him just long enough for Sidious to grab hold of him by the front of his robes, twisting, pulling, sending him slamming down to the ground on his back, driving the air from his lungs as he recalled his ruby red blade back to his hand and plunged it straight down towards that still blue eye, descending descending, until it wasn’t even a centimeter away from boiling through the thin membrane.

Sidious leered, his smile growing.

I’ve won!

Then-

Blue.

The blue blade, the one that had been hovering nearby crashed into the red, deflecting the blow, sending it sizzling past Skywalker’s temple.

Then, that lightsaber fell into Skywalker’s hand once more.

And Sidious’ arm was in pieces before he could blink!

Sidious reeled, eyes wide as he leapt away, his body almost numb with shock.

And Anakin was still on top of him.

There was no time, not even a moment to breathe or think.

Wh-what is this!?

His eyes beheld Anakin, not in body. But in the Force.

And he realized the enormity of his error.

The well of power he’d drawn from… it was nothing. A drop in an ocean. A planet, a Galaxy could not contend with the… vessel of pure Force descending down on him. He was going to die. 

The blade came again, a million strikes from a million hands, his own defense was harried, hasty… panicked.

His feet struck the ground- and Palpatine turned away and ran.

What is this!?  He thought, his feet pounding across the ground, all of his strength fueling his speed, his base instinct to get away.

For perhaps the first time since taking his mantle as The Master from his poisoned teacher, since the first time he had cheated death, Palpatine, Sidious, the Chancellor of the Republic, experienced true, genuine fear.

An errant thought of logic pulled to mind an ancient prophecy; A saviour, a being made, by the Force itself.

Fate’s breath tickled the back of his neck. He could feel Skywalker right behind him.

He leapt, lunging up towards a maintenance tunnel, tearing off the cover with a yank, throwing it behind him in blind panic.

He dared a glance.

There was nothing there.

Palpatine felt his heart fall into a yawning pit.

He looked up, towards his chosen escape route.

Skywalker was waiting for him.

The blue blade flashed

—

Taylor

The whole of the world felt like it was shaking apart around her, even as her body strained under the volume of power coursing through her limbs, and her mind threatened to buckle under the impossible number of things she had to actively counteract second by second as she mitigated the damage as best she could.

She could taste the warm blood on her lips, and at the back of her throat, her eyesight failed but she focused only on the rest of the world as Anakin’s power flowed through her, helping her with a seemingly bottomless well of energy.

The world shook, it trembled and threatened to split apart even under all of her efforts.

Fires belched from the furnaces, she felt the millions upon millions of deaths in the world above for every minor failure in her efforts, every moment of faltering even as she attempted to rush to repair the damage, to undo the cascade failure.

She only just began to get a handle on it, only just began to feel as though she might win when she felt the warning, the tremble in her mind that told her she was reaching her limit.

But still she pushed on, still she tried and strained and forced herself to keep going, for just one more minute, or even just one single second. 

She’s not sure when her body fails her. But the world is still trembling when it does. 

She doesn’t even understand that she’s falling.

Not until someone catches her.

“I’ve got you. Keep breathing Hebert, I’ve got you!”

The voice sounds familiar and yet… it doesn’t.

Its the last thought she has before everything goes mercifully dark. 

—

Anakin

The heat was suffocating.

Waves of it pulsed free of the furnaces, the underworld of coruscant trembled and shuddered still with the aftershocks of its near destruction. But Anakin kept his eyes firmly fixed on the thing in front of him. 

Sidious’ arms were gone, what remained of his body, a ravaged, desiccated corpse that somehow still found a way to move, however haltingly.

He stepped forward… ready to finish it, once and for all.

Then, there was another.

Komari Vosa seemed to bleed out of the ether, her body manifesting between shadows and flickering heat distortions like a mirage.

Sidious gasped, struggling to speak. Anakin could sense his fear, his rage, his desperation and pain.

He was near his end, his mind and body just refused to accept it.

Komari didn’t even look at Anakin. Didn’t even acknowledge him as she knelt at her Master’s side.

“I’m glad I made it in time.” She said to the half dead corpse.

Sidious’ feelings pulsed out of him, even if his body could not speak the words. Spitting out demands, recriminations, hate.

Komari’s hand drifted, combing through the thin strings of remaining hair atop the man’s head. 

“Shhh.” She whispered, and Anakin, in that moment, felt a distinct feeling of utter disquiet. 

She leaned down, as though she were about to kiss the Sith lord. And now, it was her eyes that glowed yellow. Burning like embers.

Her hatred… it was like nothing he’d ever felt before.

Not even from Sidious.

She hovered there, staring at the monster, as if taking him in.

Her left hand drifted up, a lightsaber clutched loosely in its grasp.

She pressed the cylinder into the man’s chest. Just above his heart.

“Just like you wanted.” She mocked. 

There was nothing even remotely human that he could see in the smile that followed the words. 

“Let's go to hell together, you and I.”

A press of a button; cloth and flesh offered no resistance.

Palpatine stiffened.

And his body went still. 

The world continued to quake and tremble around him. 

Then, the last of the Sith, were swallowed by flames. 

(X)(X)(X)

And that's it!Its over!The battle is over!

I know that, it was a lengthy battle, I hope I mannaged to do it justice in all the ways that mattered. Letting it live up to the hype of expectations while also not making things drag on too long, and giving everyone their fair due and place. And yes, Palpatine did canonically have (or at least its very much implied that he had) a means to utterly destroy Coruscant by destroying its Core, if he was ever discovered as a last sort of "Fuck you" kinda deal. It was hinted at in the Aftermath and Dark Empire novels.

Either way, I hope you've all enjoyed this massive, massive battle (probably the biggest I've ever written NGL) and if you didn't well, I'm sorry I couldn't live up to the hype I set. But leave your comments and feedbackdown below; feel free to ask me anything that's unclear or that you have doubts on, remember that we have a discord where we have a channel specifically for this story where you can discuss everything related here with others to your hearts content along with any of my other stories right here:https://discord.gg/uUhC3ReTJg

And of course remember that we have 2 more chapters left to go. The Aftermath and the Epilogue. The aftermath should be posted by Friday/Saturday of next week, and the Epilogue one week after that.For all of you who have been a part of this journey and writing project and have enjoyed it for all these years, from the bottom of my heart, I thank you.Have a great weekend and a good night. See you all later :)