Chapter 1: Escape From Skywalker
Aysha stood frozen, her lightsaber buzzing an angry pink counterpoint to the silence that had abruptly replaced the blaster fire. The bodies of the three clone troopers lay crumpled in front of the wall, blood staining the floor as Helios was breathing heavily, their pristine white armor now marred by black scorch marks, a gruesome showing of her swift reflexes. Adrenaline receded, replaced by a chilling realization - she had been moments from death.
It wasn't just her exceptional training that had saved her. Just before the clones turned, a tremor, a prickling sensation in the Force, her Jedi premonition, flickered. With the grace honed through years of lightsaber drills, she whipped around, deflecting the blaster bolts as effortlessly as swatting away flies. The deflected energy flew back, each shot finding its mark with deadly precision, the distinctive white armor erupting in molten black before the clones thudded lifelessly to the ground.
But the danger wasn't over. Through the haze of the recent encounter, a flicker of movement in the corridor beyond caught her eye. A young man, barely a shadow against the dimly lit hallway, rounded a corner with a desperate grunt as blaster bolts zipped past him. He slid into a crouch, narrowly evading the pursuing clones - a remnant of the betrayal that had just unfolded.
A snarl erupted from the young man, raw and primal. He reached out with a telekinetic surge, the Force crackling around him. The pursuing clones, caught off guard, were flung to the ground with sickening thuds. They writhed and struggled, but the Force pressed down on them, rendering them unconscious with an invisible hand. Aysha watched, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs. Who was this? Why were the clones after him? And more importantly, was he a friend or foe?
Cracking their helmets as he panted heavily.
"???: F-fuck?! You bastards are relentless?!"
A ragged gasp tore from the young man's throat, his chest heaving with exertion. The brilliant azure that had momentarily flared in his eyes dimmed back to their usual warm yellow, a stark contrast to the growing crimson blossoming across his Jedi robes where he clutched his left arm. With a pained grunt, he sank the wall until he was slumped in a sitting position, breaths coming in harsh rasps.
Across the now-smoking corridor, Aysha watched, her brow furrowed in concern. With a flick of her wrist, the neon pink blade of her lightsaber deactivated with a hiss. The color, unheard of for a Jedi's weapon, mirrored the vibrant green of her Twi'lek skin in an unexpected, almost whimsical fashion. Her lekku, the fleshy appendages trailed down her head like tails, swayed gently as she moved across the debris-strewn battlefield with surprising agility. This hallway had been bathed in a serene, almost sterile, light just moments before. Now, the air crackled with the lingering scent of ozone, and blaster fire echoed from unseen battles raging further down the corridors.
"Aysha: You, boy! What happened here?"Shehe called out, her voice sharandturgentcy.
A tremor of fear shot through Aysha as she registered the young man's vacant stare. Concern etched itself onto her weathered face, the lines around her eyes deepening.
"Aysha, You must get up and keep running!"
She gasped, her voice cracking with urgency.
"Aysha: The temple is under attack!"
The young man stirred, a groan escaping his lips as he pushed himself up on one elbow. He blinked blearily at the woman, his gaze finally settling on her with a flicker of recognition. Unlike the serene calmness of a Jedi Master, Aysha couldn't help but wince at the sight before her. This wasn't a Padawan she was accustomed to.
"???: Huh?"
He mumbled, his voice thick with sleep and confusion.
"Helios: Bitch? Who the hell you callin' "boy"? The name's Helios. And I know."
He slurred his words slightly, the bridge of his nose wrinkling in a grimace as he cradled his arm. A shock of white and blue dreadlocks, meticulously woven into a high ponytail, cascaded down his back. But it was his eyes that sent a shiver down Aysha's spine. Glowing a startling yellow, they held a feral glint, a primitive awareness that sent a jolt through her.
He continued, his voice gaining a touch of snarl. He gestured vaguely with his unwounded arm, the movement sending a ripple through the elaborate tattoo that snaked across his bicep.
"Helios: These bastards came from that direction."
A harsh scar, jagged and angry, sliced across his cheekbone, adding to the aura of untamed nature that clung to him like a shroud. As Aysha opened her mouth to speak, a glint of something sharp caught her eye. Nestled between his parted lips were a set of incisors that gleamed just a touch too pointed, an unsettling and intriguing detail.
This wasn't a Padawan. He was far too young to be a seasoned Jedi Knight, yet a raw power simmering beneath the surface spoke of experience beyond his apparent years. And most glaringly, he wasn't clad in the familiar, austere robes of the Jedi Order. Aysha, her brow furrowed in concern and trepidation, steeled herself.
"Aysha: Mind your tongue, young man."
She said, her voice firm despite the tremor in her heart.
"Aysha: Now, tell me who came and why the temple is under attack."
A groan escaped the young man's lips as he attempted to stand, muscles screaming in protest. Weakness washed over him, threatening to pull him back down. But just then, a flash of movement caught his eye. Aysha.
She sauntered toward him, the desert sun glinting off the intricate silver lacing on her midriff-baring halter. Her pants, crafted from the supple leather of a drawback hide and dyed a deep crimson, clung to her form. They were a creation of her sister Nala, the dancer. Nala believed the rigid, concealing garb of the Jedi stifled one's spirit (and, more importantly, one's curves).
As Aysha neared, the considerable swell of her breasts brushed against his chest. Heat flooded his cheeks, and instinctively, his gaze darted down. There, nestled between the silken ropes of her halter, was a sight that momentarily stole his breath.
He scolded himself inwardly. Shame gnawed at him for his lapse in focus. With a Herculean effort, he tore his eyes away, forcing his gaze skyward toward the cracked sandstone ceiling. It wasn't much of a view, but at least it wasn't distracting.
"Aysha: Pervert!"
Aysha's voice, laced with amusement and a hint of exasperation, snapped him back to reality.
He winced.
"Helios: Ugh, sorry."
He mumbled, finally meeting her eyes.
"Helios: Still a bit out of it, I guess."
Aysha raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.
"Aysha: Seems like it."
She said, her voice teasing.
"Aysha: Now, pay attention! I'm asking-"
The woman's voice, which had held a playful lilt just moments ago, hardened with sudden seriousness.
"Aysha: Wait?"
She said, her gaze locking onto the young man with an intensity that sent shivers down his spine.
Before she could finish her question, the young man blurted out his response, his voice trembling with fear and urgency.
"Helios: Master Skywalker and his soldiers! Fifteen minutes ago! They stormed in, firing without a word. I barely managed to pull a few of the children to safety – a brother and sister, just little ones....but there were so many, and I...."
His voice cracked, the weight of his words threatening to break him.
A sharp retort cut him off before he could finish.
"Aysha: Nonsense!"
Aysha snapped, jumping to her feet. Her eyes darted nervously towards the echoing sound of footsteps approaching in the vast, circular hallway just beyond the chamber.
They were getting closer, fast.
"Aysha: Master Skywalker wouldn't do something like that!"
She insisted, her voice laced with a desperate hope that warred with the rising panic in her chest.
"Aysha: Those are lies! Don't spread such rumors!"
The young man stared at her, his jaw clenched. Her accusation ignited a fury within him.
His usually bright yellow eyes flickered, momentarily turning a shocking shade of sapphire blue. Crackling energy danced along his skin, a visual manifestation of the raw power simmering beneath the surface.
"Helios: Lies?!?!"
He roared, his voice thick with a barely contained rage.
"Helios: This is no lie!"
A strangled cry tore from the young man's throat as Aysha witnessed a flicker of shock cross his face.
He stumbled back, blue eyes wide with a sudden, terrible clarity.
This wasn't just another Padawan; the raw power that had pulsed from him during that last desperate maneuver was unlike anything she'd ever encountered in a learner.
"Helios: I was moments away from becoming a Knight!"
He rasped, voice shaking with fury and barely contained grief.
"Helios: That bastard attacked...he killed the others at the ceremony. The only reason I'm breathing is because I shoved my younger siblings out just as the clones started firing.
I played dead, pretended the Force push that nearly caved me in finished the job.
But it wasn't like any Force push I'd ever felt. Just a flick of his wrist, barely a twitch, yet it sent us all flying like ragdolls!"
He gingerly extended his arm towards Aysha, the grimace on his face starkly contrasting his youthful features.
The throbbing beneath the pale skin – there was no denying it.
His shoulder was dislocated, and his elbow twisted at an unnatural angle—a sickening confirmation of his story.
A cold dread settled in Aysha's stomach. This wasn't a random attack.
The clones, their supposed protectors, turning their weapons on the Jedi...it screamed of a larger plot, a coup.
And if Palpatine was behind it, the entire Republic might be complicit.
The recent influx of additional clone troopers, framed as a security measure, now felt like a wolf in sheep's clothing. Assassins, not guardians. Her mind raced. Flight. It had to be a flight.
But escape alone wouldn't ensure their survival. Helios, injured and likely burdened with siblings, wouldn't make it far alone. The moment they hesitated, they all became targets. They needed to act, and they needed to act fast.
"Aysha: Helios, come on."
Aysha's voice cut through the Force-fueled haze of fear that had settled over Helios. It wasn't a harsh command but held the quiet authority honed by years of lightsaber training and unwavering loyalty to the Jedi Order.
"Aysha, It's time to get up."
She said, her tone laced with a familiar urgency that echoed the countless training drills they'd participated in.
"Aysha: Come with me. Now."
Helios recognized the tremor in her voice, a subtle crack in the facade of calm most Jedi women cultivated. It was the same tremor that had rippled through the serene halls of the Temple just moments before, a tremor that spoke of something far more sinister than a training exercise.
Understanding bloomed in his mind alongside a surge of adrenaline. Their sacred haven, the Jedi Order, was under attack.
He scrambled to his feet, a flurry of motion fueled by panic and a deep-seated loyalty to the only home he'd ever known. As he did, a metallic clatter drew Aysha's gaze.
A small droid, barely two feet tall with a double-wheeled base and a sleek, bullet-shaped body, trundled out from a nearby ventilation shaft. It whirred excitedly, its beeps echoing in the sudden silence.
"Aysha: Wait!"
Aysha exclaimed, her perfectly arched brow furrowing for a brief moment. Her voice had a steely edge instead of the gentle quality that usually softened it.
"Aysha: Leave that droid behind!"
The rusty droid emitted a series of high-pitched beeps, a sound that could only be described as a metallic whimper. It scurried across the floor and came to a rest with a clang against Helios's boot, its dented photoreceptors locked on the approaching figure.
"Helios: Like hell, I will?!"
Helios barked back, his voice laced with a defensiveness that surprised even him.
"Helios: That's X-11!"
Helios planted his feet firmly, his gaze unwavering. X-11 might look like a discarded bucket of bolts to some, but to Helios, he was more than just a droid.
"Helios: Leaving X-11 behind isn't an option."
Helios continued, his voice softening slightly.
"Helios: He's more than an assistant. He's practically family. Been with me since I was a kid and has seen us through thick and thin. Especially after what he did for my little brother and sister..."
Aysha's gaze flicked to the droid, taking in its dented chassis and flickering lights. Pity flickered across her face, a fleeting emotion quickly replaced by skepticism.
"Aysha: Assistant, huh?"
She drawled, her voice dripping with doubt.
"Aysha: What exactly does he assist with besides slowing us down?"
Helios couldn't help but glance down at X-11, a wave of nostalgia washing over him.
He remembered the day he'd found the droid, a discarded heap of metal amidst the towering trash of the slums.
He'd been barely twelve, scavenging for scraps to sell for his family's next meal.
X-11 had been just another piece of junk, tossed aside like yesterday's news. But something about the droid had sparked a connection in Helios, a sense of kinship. He'd spent days tinkering, coaxing the droid back to life, reprogramming its core protocols to serve a new purpose.
"Helios: Found him in a junkyard."
Helios began, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
"Helios: Figured he could use a second chance, just like me. I reprogrammed him to be a helper droid. Got a hidden compartment inside, perfect for stashing my lightsaber and other essentials."
Helios crouched low, his one good hand hovering hesitantly over X-11's battered head. The droid, a tangle of wires and dented plating, whirred softly. To Helios' attuned ears, it was a language of shared history, a silent conversation that spoke volumes of their bond.
A grin, both nervous and excited, split Helios's face.
"Helios: Show her, X-11!"
He declared, his voice thick with pride.
The droid responded with a flurry of beeps and boops, excitement crackling through its circuits.
It spun a dizzying pirouette on its unique double-wheeled base, then seemed to shrink in on itself for a moment.
Its body and bullet-shaped head vibrated, and the tip dilated with a soft whir. Suddenly, a lightsaber hilt shot several feet into the air.
Helios lunged forward, his good arm snatching the hilt out of midair. With a flick of his wrist, the blade ignited. Pure golden energy flared to life, a dazzling counterpoint to the grime and chaos surrounding them.
But the triumph was short-lived. The pain in his injured arm flared, forcing him to drop the hilt. It clattered to the floor with a metallic clang, and Helios stumbled back, breath catching in his throat.
Across the room, Aysha rolled her eyes, exasperation etched on her face.
"Aysha: Oh, for the stars' sake!"
She exclaimed.
"Aysha: We don't have time for this! Helios, what's your full name?"
He straightened, wincing at the pain.
"Helios: it's Helios."
He declared, forcing a grin.
"Helios: my name is Helios Solkar."
Though ragged from exertion, his voice vibrated with a pride that defied his ragged state.
"Aysha: Well, Helios Solkar."
Aysha said, her voice clipped but laced with a grudging respect.
"Aysha: We're in a tight spot. We're all goners if we don't find your siblings and a way out here soon. But listen closely. I'll help you find your brother and sister and a way out for all of us. That bucket of bolts over there."
She jerked a thumb towards the droid.
"Aysha: That's your problem. I can't keep up. I'll leave you both behind. Understood?"
X-11, emitting a flurry of high-pitched chirps and clicks that translated to something akin to droid profanity, spun its treads in a furious display of indignation. The clunky sounds echoed through the tense silence, a testament to the little droid's wounded pride. Helios, ever the calming influence, reacted with surprising speed for a man with a bum arm. He reached out, his hand a blur, and scooped X-11 up in a protective cradle.
Despite their precarious situation, Aysha couldn't begrudgingly and rudely impressed by this display of loyalty. Here was a young man, bruised, used, and not at his best but radiating courage nonetheless. Facing unknown dangers with one arm inoperable required a particular brand of bravery, and how he cared for his droid spoke volumes about his character.
His skin, the color of burnished honey, starkly contrasted with his hair, a shade of platinum so bright it seemed to shimmer with an inner light, like moonlight woven into threads.
Even amidst the grime and sweat that clung to him like a second layer of clothing, there was nobility in his features, a hint of defiance flickering in his ice-blue eyes.
This Helios Solkar, with his rough exterior and surprising tenderness, wasn't easily underestimated.
Aysha's gaze drifted over him, a flicker of curiosity sparking in her mind. Was he perhaps from a harsh desert world that forged resilience in its inhabitants?
If so, maybe there was more to him than just a pretty face – perhaps he wasn't some useless fop from the pampered Core Systems after all. Maybe he had some grit beneath that handsome exterior.
With a wry twist of her lips, she finally spoke, her voice laced with something that might have been amusement.
"Aysha: Alright, alright, I get it. You and your bucket of bolts are thick as thieves. But seriously, can't you tone down the theatrics a notch?"
Aysha looked at him dourly.
Aysha's scowl deepened into a thundercloud.
"Aysha: Come on!"
She hissed, urgency lacing her voice. The rhythmic thud of clone troopers' boots echoed in the sterile hallway, growing louder with each passing second.
Any moment, they would appear around the bend of the vast, circular corridor that snaked through the mid-section of the temple.
She pointedly looked at Helios' graduation lightsaber clipped to his belt.
"Aysha: And for Force's sake, holster that thing."
She snapped.
Without another word, Aysha bolted down the hall, her pace picking up with each stride. Helios stood rooted to the spot for a beat, mesmerized by the way her ass swayed hypnotically in those drawback-leather pants. They were impossibly tight, clinging to every delectable curve.
Twi'lek women, whom he knew all too well, often filled the roles of dancers or slave girls. And Aysha, with her lithe frame and captivating movements, certainly had the dancer's physique. Bounce, bounce, bounce - her cheeks jiggled rhythmically with each step, her body a symphony of lean muscle and feminine grace. Her breasts, full and enticing, strained against the confines of her top, their gentle jiggle visible even from this distance. And those morals! Those exotic appendages, like sapphire ribbons trailing behind her, added another layer of allure to her breathtaking form.
Helios' heart hammered against his ribs, not entirely due to the impending danger. A blush crept up his neck as he realized his unwelcome ogling. Beep, beep, bloop! X-11's scoffing chirp pierced his daze, dragging him back to reality. Sheepishly, he placed the droid back on the ground and sprinted after Aysha, the image of her bouncing curves forever etched in his mind.
Aysha wasn't naive. She knew where they needed to be - the transportation port. Every muscle screamed with exertion after their mad dash, but relief flickered momentarily when she reached the cavernous doors leading out to the shuttle platform.
Relief died instantly. The vast space beyond was teeming with clone troopers. A Tyderian shuttle, like a metallic leviathan, disgorged even more, its white armor gleaming under the harsh artificial lights. Several entire squadrons quickly stood between them and any personal transport.
A minute or two had passed since they'd fled. Aysha had just crouched to peek through the viewport of the blast door when a muffled thump sent a jolt through her.
Helios, bless his oblivious heart, had barreled into her rear end, his momentum carrying both of them into X-11, who yelped and crumpled against the unforgiving metal. Aysha groaned internally.
"Aysha: Helios?!"
She hissed, whirling around, her voice a low rumble laced with annoyance.
"Aysha: Watch it!"
Despite the situation, a flicker of amusement danced in her eyes, warring with the intensity that usually burned there. Helios, for his part, looked like a flustered Tooka.
His face, thankfully averted from the troopers for now, was pressed against the viewport, his body plastered against the enticing curves of her backside, emphasized by the tight leather of her combat suit.
"Helios: Sorry!"
He mumbled, his voice muffled by the metal. He disentangled himself with a sheepish grin, brushing himself off. A glance around the corner confirmed her initial assessment.
"Aysha: Looks like this way's out. Unless, of course, you fancy taking on a whole battalion of clones?"
She said, her voice firm but laced with a hint of helplessness, a challenging glint in her eyes.
Aysha's mind raced like a starship thruster on a faulty regulator. Five troopers? Easy pickings. Ten? A thrilling skirmish, odds she could play with. Twenty? It was a desperate game, but one she might win. But fifty? Fifty clone troopers, their white armor gleaming under the harsh fluorescent lights, was a suicide mission.
The hum of blaster fire echoed through the sterile corridors, a chilling reminder of the chaos that had unfolded. Every shot, every rumble of a collapsing wall, was an unwelcome beacon that could draw Jedi Master Skywalker back to this very spot. And if he did...
A shudder ran through her. She wasn't arrogant – Skywalker was a legend, a whirlwind of power in the Force. Even at her best, she wouldn't last a minute against him.
"Aysha, this is madness!"
Aysha said, urgent and hushed, sliced through her internal storm.
"Aysha: Engaging them head-on is a death wish."
Her gaze flicked back to the troopers, their movements methodical, their blasters held tight. She gritted her teeth. Helios was right. There had to be another way.
"Helios: The elevators!"
Helios hissed his voice barely a whisper.
"Helios: The ones the maintenance crews use. They lead down to the lower levels, maybe even the surface."
A spark of hope ignited in Aysha's chest. The maintenance elevators – a blind spot, a potential escape route they hadn't considered. It was a gamble, but it was their only shot.
Helios' voice dropped to a whisper, barely audible over the distant sounds of blaster fire.
"Aysha: The Solivery tubes. Those cylindrical things the maintenance workers use. They travel down to the lower levels, straight to the surface."
Aysha surveyed the young man, whose face etched with grim determination mirrored hers. It was a gamble but a potentially life-saving one. Unlike most high-rises on Coruscant, the Jedi Temple perched precariously on a pinnacle, far removed from the teeming cityscape below. The surface, a labyrinthine sprawl teeming with millions, offered both anonymity and a terrifying unknown. Still, it was a chance. Helios held her gaze, his yellow eyes burning with an urgent plea.
"Helios: You might be right. It's our best shot."
With a silent nod, they retraced their steps, their movements a desperate ballet of hushed steps and furtive glances. The air crackled with the tension of their situation. Blaster bolts flared on distant walls, and the unmistakable thud of booted feet echoed through the corridors, a chilling reminder of the relentless hunt that stalked them. Every so often, a bone-chilling scream ripped through the silence, a Jedi's final cry extinguished in the chaos.
Finally, they reached a massive cylindrical metal tube emblazoned with the insignia of a familiar delivery service - Solivery. Relief momentarily flickered across Aysha's face.
Civilian transports were their only hope, slow and bureaucratic as they were. At least they offered some chance of survival. But Helios' iron grip on her arm sent a jolt through Aysha. His eyes, previously gleaming with cheerful confidence, were wide with a terror she didn't recognize.
"Helios: Yeah, w,e gotta go."
He exclaimed, whirling around to face her.
"Aysha: Where are we supposed to go? This is our way out, and the tubes should work."
She gestured towards the unassuming cylinder before them. It was a Solivery tube, a common sight used for transporting cargo within the station. Its access hatch was a narrow circle barely large enough for a human to squeeze through, and it was not designed for passenger travel.
"Helios: Wait? Could these tubes fit both of us and X-11? We need a passenger lift, not a shipping container!"
Aysha's brow furrowed in confusion.
"Aysha: Sure? Is it a Solivery tube? It's for cargo, so a human, Twi-lek, and a defective droid should be ok."
The urgency in Aysha's voice sent a shiver down his spine. What did she know about these seemingly innocuous tubes that he didn't? He hasn't used the tubes since he was first brought to the temple.
The hatch itself was flimsy, a thin sheet of metal that looked like it could buckle under the slightest pressure. Helios eyed it warily.
"Helios: Aysha, those are for containers!"
He reiterated, his voice rising with each word.
Aysha, however, seemed utterly undeterred. A flicker of confusion crossed her face as if she couldn't comprehend why he wouldn't consider it.
"Aysha: Helios, you've used these before, haven't you?"
Aysha pressed, her voice laced with suspicion.
He hesitated for a beat too long, then forced a nonchalant shrug.
"Helios: I mean– Yeah, I have."
He mumbled, avoiding her gaze.
"Helios: But that was years ago when I was a kid."
Aysha wasn't convinced. There was something he wasn't telling her.
Helios had a secretive past that he obviously wanted to keep a secret.
A metallic tang, thick with industrial oil, wafted from the open hatch. It was a smell that spoke of machinery and utilitarian function, not of the sterile efficiency passenger lifts were known for. Revulsion tightened Aysha's throat.
With a trembling hand, she reached out and pressed the activation button beside the hatch. It hissed open with an unsettling groan, revealing the cold, metallic interior. The dim lights cast long, skeletal shadows, making the cramped space seem even more oppressive. It was a chamber designed for cargo pods, not for desperate people fleeing for their lives.
"Helios: This won't work"
A deep sigh rumbled through Helios' chest, escaping his lips. His voice echoed through the sterile hallway. X-11, his ever-reliable droid companion, released a series of disappointed beeps and boops in response.
Helios took his locks down before fixing the ponytail, his frustration evident.
Their escape plan, meticulously crafted through sleepless nights, seemed to have hit a significant snag.
"Helios: You're right, X-11. Maybe relying on that ventilation shaft was a little... optimistic."
Helios conceded, his voice dripping with defeat.
A mischievous glint sparked in his eyes as he turned to X-11. Leaning in conspiratorially, he whispered.
"Helios: Besides, Aysha probably wouldn't appreciate the squeeze. All that..."
He trailed off, gesturing towards his chest with a playful jab.
"Helios wouldn't exactly fit in that cramped space."
A snort escaped X-11, translating into a series of high-pitched chirps. The droid's display flickered with a mischievous emoticon, mirroring Helios' smirk. Their brief moment of amusement was shattered by a growl that sent shivers down Helios' spine.
"Aysha: What did you say?"
Aysha loomed over them, her fiery red hair practically crackling with fury.
"Helios: Aysha, come on!"
Helios stammered, throwing his hands up in mock surrender.
"Helios: It was just a joke! You know, lighten the mood a bit?"
Aysha narrowed her violet eyes, a dangerous glint simmering within them.
"Aysha: You little pig! I knew I should have left you and your rusty bucket of bolts back on Corellia!"
She said as she didn't think she'd like the realization that he was checking out her body. He was a younger man than her. She was easily in her late 30s to early 40s, and he was, at best, 19 or 20.
Helios chuckled nervously, backing away slowly. X-11, emitting a series of apologetic whistles, scurried behind Helios' leg, its mechanical form dwarfed by Aysha's imposing presence.
"Helios: Look, Aysha, I was just saying!"
Helios continued, trying to appease her.
"Helios: We need to take some risks, right? We can't just sit around here forever waiting for a miracle!"
The metallic shriek that tore down the hallway shattered Helios' retort mid-sentence. It was horrifyingly familiar and utterly unnerving—the clang of heavy clone trooper boots. Across the way, a doorway hissed open with an inhuman sigh, revealing a scene that froze the blood in Helios' veins.
Clad in gleaming white armor, six figures marched in with terrifying precision. Between them, two small forms huddled together, their vulnerability a stark contrast to the imposing presence of the clones. As they shuffled closer, a strangled gasp escaped Helios' lips. Ayeden and Binu, his younger siblings, their faces etched with fear. Their platinum blonde hair, the same shade as his own, seemed to glow an ethereal white under the harsh hallway lights, and their large, startled yellow eyes mirrored his own with an uncanny intensity.
The smile that had been playing on Helios' lips vanished in an instant, replaced by a mask of cold fury. His gaze locked onto his siblings, and he saw the moment they spotted him - a flicker of desperate hope amidst the terror. But that hope died as quickly as it flared. The clones whirled around, blasters rising in unison, their targeting visors locking onto Helios as he stood there.
The muffled thud of their boots had gone unnoticed in the heat of the argument. Aysha, her back to the approaching troopers, remained blissfully unaware of the impending danger. The static hiss of a helmet radio crackled to life, a single, chilling order slicing through the tense silence:
"Blast 'em!"
Helios reacted with the primal instinct of a cornered animal. A surge of adrenaline propelled him forward. He shoved Aysha aside in a blur of motion, his hand snapping to his belt. The familiar hilt of his lightsaber fell into his grasp, and with a flick of his wrist, the golden blade roared to life, a defiant hum against the approaching hail of blaster fire.
A white-hot rage fueled his every move. He didn't care about himself, only about protecting his little brother and sister. The air crackled with raw energy as he deflected shot after shot, the golden streaks of his lightsaber painting an arc through the smoky air. His yellow eyes burned bright sapphire blue and blazed with an intensity that rivaled the lightsaber's glow. The Force pulsed around him for a brief moment, a tangible manifestation of his fury.
With a battle cry that echoed down the hallway, Helios unleashed a surge of telekinetic power. The clones, caught off guard by the sudden display of Force might, were hurled backward like rag dolls. Their armored bodies slammed against the unforgiving wall with sickening thuds, their weapons clattering to the floor.
Helios didn't stop there. While the clones lay groaning and momentarily stunned, he deactivated his lightsaber, the golden light vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. Ignoring the dull ache in his muscles and the tremor in his hands, he rushed towards his siblings.
Ayeden and Binu, tears streaming down their faces, launched themselves at him. The terror in their eyes was slowly giving way to a glimmer of relief and the hesitant joy of reunion. Helios knelt, engulfing them both in a fierce hug, the unspoken promise of protection a warm shield against the lingering fear.
"Helios: Ayeden! Binu! I finally found you!!"
A wave of relief washed over Helios as he spotted his younger siblings huddled in a corner. Ignoring the throbbing pain in his arm, he rushed towards them, scooping the twins Ayeden and Binu into a fierce hug. Tears streamed down their faces, their tiny bodies trembling with fear.
"Ayeden! Binu!" Helios gasped, his voice thick with emotion. "It's okay, I'm here now. No more scary people, I promise!"
The twins spoke in unison, their voices barely above choked sobs. "Brother?! We were so scared! Please don't let the bad guys get us!"
Helios tightened his grip, his heart aching at their terror. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. They were alive safe, and that was all that mattered.
Across the room, Aysha watched the reunion, her emerald lightsaber still ignited but held loosely in her hand. Helios's raw protectiveness towards his siblings mirrored her fiercely protective nature. A flicker of recognition sparked within her. In his actions, she saw a younger reflection of herself, back when she was a Padawan, quick to react and fiercely defensive, especially towards her adopted human sister and bio sister.
Aysha deactivated her lightsaber with a soft hum. She strode over to Helios, her previous suspicion momentarily forgotten. She yanked him around to face her with a firm grip on his loose tunic. While the brutality of his earlier actions remained a concern, she couldn't deny the undeniable Jedi spirit she witnessed. He may not have been her Padawan, but at that moment, he acted with the same unwavering determination to protect the innocent who defined the Jedi Order.
A spark of understanding ignited in her eyes. His name, Helios – it clicked into place. He wasn't just any skilled Force user. He was a Sol Knight, a warrior from the legendary House of Sol, renowned for their unwavering dedication to justice.
The pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. He was here for a reason, and that reason, she hoped, aligned with her own.
(Note: In the annals of the Force, a clandestine echelon known as the Sol Knights is an enigmatic lineage within the Jedi Order that transcends the traditional dichotomy of Light and Dark. Originating before the establishment of the conventional Jedi Knights, the Sol Knights represent a hidden sect, their lineage stretching across epochs, amalgamating diverse Jedi families and species into a singular, formidable kinship. Marked by their distinctive features—silver-white hair, eyes ablaze with the hue of the sun, and skin of rich earthy tones—the Sol Knights epitomize a legacy shrouded in mystery and power.
Unified under a single-family banner, the Sol Knights wield influence far beyond their modest numbers. Though relatively small in number, their strength lies in their unity and the diversity of their bloodlines. Within their ranks, prodigious Jedi Masters and formidable Sith Lords have emerged, a testament to the potency of their heritage. Despite their significant contributions to the Force, the Sol Knights have maintained a stance of neutrality amidst the tumultuous currents of galactic conflict. Their existence remains veiled in myth and legend, a whispered tale within the sanctum of the Jedi Order and the shadowy recesses of the Sith.
However, the cosmic balance was irrevocably altered with the advent of Helios Solkar, a figure of unparalleled potential, born nineteen years before the fateful enactment of Order 66. Descended from the union of Lilith and Asuar Solkar, Helios emerged as the epitome of the Sol Knights' legacy, a harbinger of destiny whose presence reverberated throughout the Force. With his birth, the veil of obscurity surrounding the Sol Knights began to fray, drawing the attention of both Jedi and Sith alike as whispers of his prodigious abilities spread across the galaxy.
As the galaxy teetered on the brink of upheaval, the emergence of Helios heralded a new chapter in the saga of the Force, one where the legacy of the Sol Knights would be tested amidst the crucible of war and betrayal. For within the heart of this singular being lay the potential to reshape the galaxy's fate, a beacon of hope or harbinger of doom, depending on the path he chose to tread.)
Aysha had scoffed at the notion of Sol Knights her entire life. They were relegated to bedtime stories, whispered tales of heroism her grandmother told under the covers—myths, figments of a bygone era—until Helios.