The Force Rumbled.
No one sensitive to it could ever ignore the feeling.
The Death Cult of Bando Gora gathered as their High Priestess roared a song of battle and fury, of twin reckonings taking place, side by side.
The Fallanassi strained under their meditation and immersion, feeling the ripples in the White Current manifest as waves crashing and warping their own illusions and concealments.
The Blackshackle Fleet, in the midst of their civil war with the rest of the Blazing Chain, roared with a dark triumph that was not their own, but made them forge onwards ever fiercer
Every member of the Vahla species, all the way up to the sacred priests that made up the Chosen of Vahl, as they sensed the champion- or, perhaps, even consort- of their Goddess lay low the arrogant and narrow minded Jedi Order, who butchered their ancestors so long ago.
The Heinsnake Cult hummed a prayer as they felt their long awaited master, praying that he would slay the first of the snakes, and come to lead them into the glorious Reign of Eternal Chaos.
The Nightsisters gathered for a war chant as they sensed the dual wars: Between the Great Darkness and the Blind Light, and between the Mist of Death and Shadows of Hatred.
And more, many more, watched on intently. From the depths of the Core to the Kathol sector, they silently observed as the future itself was remade, destroyed, and rewritten.
Yet Korriban, the ancient world of the Sith with its endless tombs, was silent. For all the ghosts and specters of many Dark Lords were already in the fight alongside their fellow Darth. After all, how could they deny the Dark Side's call for the greatest attack on the Jedi Order, spiritual if not physical, in millennia?
But sometimes, the greatest wisdom and truest sight is that of a child.
Anakin figuratively shrugged off another surge of the Force resonating from Vader's fight with, well, whoever had managed to last more than a minute with him. Ahsoka whimpered as the boy helped support her, walking her through the Great Hall while she guided him to the circular room, her head pounding even without the Dark Side targeting her as much.
"Ahsoka, there you are!"
Anakin looked up in relief for the voice, but scowled as he found no one around them.
"Masta Phara Nannar," Ahsoka responded with a relieved tone, leaning down.
Anakin looked towards their feet and honestly took a moment to register what he was seeing. Ahsoka was crouched down to be face to face with what looked a fairly large rabbit, complete with puffy white ears. But she had legs and feet more like a feline, and wore Jedi robes fit for such a small stature.
Anakin had seen a lot of strange creatures in his short life, so this one's form didn't shock him. He just wouldn't assume she was a sapient at first glance if not for the clothes.
"I'm relieved you're safe, young one. Thank you-" she paused, not recognizing the young boy immediately.
"Anakin Skywalker," he answered, shaking off his stupor before he appeared rude. "Is this where-?"
Anakin stopped as a scream rang from a nearby room, making Phara Nannar snap her head back towards it in concern. Anakin knew screams well enough to guess that one belonged to a child. "Come, come, quickly!" Phara insisted, scurrying back towards the room.
Ahsoka ran to follow after her teacher, but stopped a few feet short of the door as she felt the absence of a hand on her shoulder. She turned in confusion as she saw Anakin staring down the Great Hall. "Afau'a?" Ahsoka called in concern. (Skyguy?)
But Anakin didn't hear her. He was too busy, watching. What, he couldn't put into words.
Well, actually, that was a lie. He could put it into words, they just were...more simplified than he felt the sight deserved.
There were two seas, of black and white, but they refused to touch, except at one singular point both masses tried to dominate. The Black lurched and churned wrathfully, while the White rippled, struggling to stay calm and still as it rippled more and more.
And at the point, were two figures, clashing, fighting.
Warring.
The figures shifted and changed as he tried to see, to understand what he was seeing.
He leaned to the White, and he saw a great Vornskr growling down at a twisted and rabid Maalraas. The Vornskr lunged, biting into the leg of the Maalraas.
Anakin, feeling as though he was standing right before the great beasts, flinched back…into the Black.
The Vornskr grew into an aged, pale Rancor as the Maalraas bit back, fangs morphing into a mighty beak, growing innumerable tentacles as it became a huge and ever hungry Sarlacc.
He shifted again; they became a lean Nexu and a starved Tuk'ata. Another change in his position and once more they metamorphosed, into a witless Wampa and a cunning Gundark.
Anakin eyed the creatures suspiciously before taking what felt like a step back, a step away from both sides. From there, he leaned forward and focused.
He felt no fear now, as he saw them now as two Greater Kryat Dragons. The massive reptilians charged at each other, but Anakin's attention was no longer on their fighting, but on their appearance.
One was Kryat was covered in wounds: lacerations, burns, stabs. All marred its otherwise mighty form, muscle toned and thick, claws and fangs poised. It was powerful, but it was rash, desperate to devour.
The other was scrawny and sickly, all scars of battles long faded. Its bones jutted against the skin, and disease gnawed at its limbs. It was wise from age, but it was slow, unwilling to devour as its enemy devoured.
And as they roared in each other's faces, Anakin saw the eyes.
The Scarred Kryat had its eyes gouged out.
The Starved Kryat had pale, blank eyes.
They were each as blind as the other.
"An-kin! An-kin!"
The human boy shook himself out of the trance as he felt a pair of small hands clutching his shirt and shaking him. The scene faded as he once more was staring at the little Togruta girl, looking up at him desperately. "Ahsoka?" he said, catching a breath he didn't know he needed.
"Kumsara! Narsu!" Ahsoka requested urgently, trying to pull him to no effect.(Stay! Please!)
Anakin blinked, the meaning flying over his head this time. "I'm sorry, I don't-" he paused, straining his memory for a decent wording. "Koa ksilan kub."(No understand.)
Ahsoka took a deep breath as she remembered her lessons, calming herself as best she could while knowing IT was still fighting with the Masters. "Don't go!"
Anakin stared as he finally realized just how desperately Ahsoka wanted him to stay. It was an odd feeling, someone acting like they needed him so much. Wouldn't a Jedi Master or Phara Nannar be someone better to help her, someone she'd feel safer with than another kid she just met?
Anakin shook away all of that. It didn't matter why she needed him, just that she did. He looked back down the vast, cathedral-like hall and could practically hear the clash of lightsabers from this great distance.
But he wasn't afraid. Not for Vader, at least. He knew that the man who helped free him would emerge out of this alive. That wasn't hero worship, or at least he hoped it wasn't. But there was nothing he could do for Vader even if he did worry for the Sith Lord. Ahsoka, at least, he could help. How he helped, he had no idea, but she hadn't started screaming again.
And he had to admit, the relieved smile Ahsoka gave him was one of the most precious things he had seen in a long time.
He followed her into the room, and for the first time since meeting him, Anakin almost felt angry with Vader.
All around the room, children no older than Ahsoka sat on benches or the floor, various ones curled into fetal positions, while Phara Nannar ran around, trying to help one youngling yet two more always needed her as well. Whimpers and sobs permeated the room as something hung oppressively over everyone. He felt like he was looking at children about to be sold off into slavery for the first time, scared and confused as something cruel and beyond their understanding was happening to them.
But while he knew Vader was technically responsible, that didn't explain one thing: "What's wrong with them?" Anakin asked in confusion.
Ahsoka looked to him in disbelief, but Anakin didn't notice as he looked over them.
"Get it off, get it off!" a human boy nearby started snapping desperately, clutching at his clothes as if he was trying to rip something off.
"Hey, hey!" Anakin called as he moved to kneel beside the younger male and placed a hand on his shoulder. The boy's fear soaked brown eyes looked up sharply to lock with Anakin's blue orbs. "What's wrong? What what do you see?" he asked softly, trying not to startle the youngling.
The Jedi-to-be shivered as he curled into himself. "I-I keep waking up, in a suit. It's cold and dark, and someone is on the floor wi-without thei-their he-head, and I want out! I-I can't breathe," he sobbed, clutching his head through his brown hair.
"Hey! Hey. What's your name?" Anakin asked suddenly.
"W-what?" the boy responded, as if pulled back from his nightmare.
"Your name? Who are you?" Anakin asked with a small smile.
He stared for a moment, too stunned to even be scared. "Tel...Telloti," he answered, eyeing Anakin with an expression somewhere between awe and incomprehension on his face. "You're not afraid?"
Anakin's smile suddenly became much older than it should have been able to. "Not of this, Telloti," he answered honestly, keeping his hand on Telloti's shoulder.
He glanced up and beyond the boy ever so slightly. He thought he had been imagining it, but something felt odd when he touched Ahsoka or Telloti. He didn't experience whatever was making these children so scared, but he could almost feel it, see it…as if there was another figure on the opposite side of the dark skinned boy, its own metaphysical hand on the other shoulder. It reminded him of what Vader felt like in the Force, but wilder and not as cold. There was no control or direction, it was just- there, existing. Feasting? Plaguing?
He didn't know or have the luxury to care right now. All he knew was that he wanted this to stop.
And just like that, only one shoulder had a hand on it.
Anakin looked around as the screaming and crying had stopped. He saw the other younglings looking around- minus the ones that collapsed in exhaustion. Some whimpered and were very uncertain of their safety still, but the room no longer felt so oppressive. As if whatever plagued them had left the room.
And amidst it all, one furry little Jedi regarded Anakin with incomprehension. "What did you do?" Phara asked with a furrowed brow. She was sure he had done something, but she hadn't felt anything in the Force repelling the Dark Side. It was like it just...left them alone.
Anakin looked to her and gave the most honest answer he had. "I have no idea."
Telloti stared at the older boy in thanks and amazement while Ahsoka was flat out awed by her new friend.
Phara eyed the boy as something seemed off. Not in the Force, regarding this at least, but the boy himself. He was wearing fairly dirty clothes that weren't what most younglings and Padawans wore. "Anakin, what clan are you in?" she inquired curiously.
Anakin's next answer was honest, but the implications truly shocked the small Jedi.
"I don't think I have one yet?"
Meanwhile
Plagueis was almost disappointed by Sidious, using mere training droids to try and stall him, the Duelist Elites armed with a wide collection of weapons: Rapiers, clubs, chains, hatchets, and even a few vibroblades. That said, there were a lot of them, the better half of a hundred filling the hallway. Far more than he ever commissioned, discounting the ones Maul had destroyed. Not a threat, but a very annoying and time consuming obstacle. Mostly because Plagueis himself had properly altered their programming to dodge Force attacks- intend to keep Sidious from becoming too dependent on his Force Lightning, but they'd register any conventional hand gesture one would make as a manipulation of the Force.
Normally, he wouldn't mind dismantling this little mock-army with overwhelming speed and skill, but unfortunately, Sidious's entire goal here was to keep the Muun busy, to buy time enough to get off Coruscant.
So it was time to be unconventional.
He deactivated his lightsabers, slowly and deliberately folding his hands behind his back. The droids registered this as an opening, lunging to attack the Dark Lord. His finger moved behind his back, causing the metal panel of the floor to wretch off its bindings and slam four or five droids into the ceiling, crushing and dismantling them. The metallic sheet slammed down on the next line of mechanicals and destroying another set. As the pieces from the first batch fell from the ceiling like rain, Plagueis took a deep breath before pulling away his breathing mask. The Dark Side condensed in his lungs, infusing with the air, before he let loose a sonic screech. Half the remaining droids were flayed apart by the attack, and more still were shredded by the falling debris being propelled forward at high speeds.
The remaining obstacles only survived by hiding around corners or framing around the wall. Replacing his mask, he shot forward at speeds that rendered him a blur to the average mortal. With a bursting motion of his fingers, the trail of metal parts and robot bodies were flung back to crush and impale the last adversaries.
He never even stopped moving after that, a specter flicking through the maze of halls and tunnels, before he reached a silo-shaped room, a cylinder of a room stretching up a dozen stories above and hundreds below the floor, faintly lit by an insufficient amount of lights. It took him only an instant to know that Sidious had gone up.
And he had a confident prediction on where his traitorous student had ventured to.
Having taken all of a second to consider all of that, the Muun Sith half-leapt and half-flew up the floors on one side of the circular rooms. He scaled thirty floors, and then another two when he saw the path was sealed. He was about to head in when he paused, glaring suspiciously into the dark, orange shaded tunnel. The Dark Side might be busy with Vader's siege of the temple, but even now it didn't lead Plagueis astray.
He glared off at the side, seeing a small vent. He could fit through there, fly through it in an instant, if not for the blasted oxygen canister he needed. He had definitely put off finding a proper way to heal his old wounds for far too long.
With great annoyance, he went one more up floor and over to his left, zipping down the unmolested hallways, taking four turns before coming to a stop, leaping in the air as he activated his lightsabers. Wielding them with the Force, he impaled them into the floor and spun them around to form a circle. Right as he landed, the metal gave way and fell with him riding it down partially.
Half way down, he used the Force to hover and slow his descent down within the hidden hanger room. The partially melted slab of metal continued to fall, bouncing off a starship.
"Going somewhere, Sidious?" Plagueis asked loudly as he steadily floated down, Sidious nowhere in sight. But he knew he was here.
When no answer came, Plagueis waved a hand, every door and hatch around the room closed with a collection of dull thuds. The only way out now was the hangar exit. His eyes scanned the room, both the floor and walkways above, but found no trace of the human.
Where was he?
It wasn't that there was a shortage of places to hide. There was a veritable workstation in one corner of the room, cluttered with tools and pieces of machinery. Lightsaber parts, with a few pieces that could be for anything. Around the room laid larger pieces of technology, primarily spare parts for the ship. Sidious had no doubt wanted to make sure he had everything he needed if the transport malfunctioned. There was also a large, triangular chunk of charred and blacken metal. Something Sidious kept as a memento or perhaps just something he tested equipment on? And there was a row of three cabinets, probably filled with holobooks or even physical books on one subject or another that Sidious might need to reference- begrudgingly, no doubt, but Sidious was not exactly a genius for engineering. He could repair his own ship, true, but-
Plagueis actually blinked as he looked back to the ship. The cockpit was empty, that was true, and he would have heard it on if Sidious had shut it down when Plagueis entered the room. One didn't train under Darth Tenebrous, aka Rugess Nome the legendary ship designer, without picking up on a few things regarding starships.
So why were his instincts pointing him to the ship?
He paced the room, eyeing it suspiciously as the engines themselves came into proper view. Something was off, he knew, but what? It was a small ship, meant only for one. It was obviously a design based of the Jedi's current starship of choice: The Delta-6 Sprite-Class Starfighter. If he was right, it was a public knockoff: Shorter, the points of the triangular shape were more curved, and it had three smaller engines instead of a single main one.
Three engines instead of one…Plagueis's mind repeated that. Why would Sidious want a model that had three engines instead of one? It was great if you were concerned about engine failure: this model should be able to get off world with one engine and maybe even enter hyperspace with just two. But this was a secret emergency escape ship. The entire point of it was that it was in perfect order and hidden for an escape.
And suddenly his intellect caught up with his instincts: The left and right engines had a bit of typical singeing about the edges. The middle one didn't.
Without another instant wasted, he threw his lightsaber, igniting it in midair with the Force, impaling it into the right engine.
With a great snap of secret joints, the hull covering what should have been the middle engine shot up before flying towards Plagueis. He merely side stepped it as he watched Sidious rise out of the secret compartment of the ship, glaring hatefully at his long time teacher.
The Muun simply smirked, in what could almost be mistaken for benevolence instead of malevolence, and had only one retort to his former student's rage.
"Shall we continue the lesson, Sidious?"
Meanwhile
The amount of damage and lack of injury was a testament to both fighters.
Darth Vader and Mace Windu stood within the ring, or what was left of it. The floor beneath them wasn't just cracked; it was essentially shattered, specks and pebbles flung upwards with every clash of the Force. Gaining and losing ground didn't mean much now, the ground often giving way even when they wouldn't.
Windu had several burnt gashes in his clothes, and there were more than a few in and around Vader's cloak with minor nicks along his armored suit.
But it was painfully obvious to all that watched on that neither was truly injured.
More so, it was growing just as clear to many Jedi that the Sith wasn't trying to kill the Master of the Order, having neglected to exploit no less than three openings.
Even Mace knew it. He had faced many great foes throughout his life as a Jedi, knowing that every mistake might mean death or the loss of a limb. A warrior like himself could only deny his own failings so many times before realizing that his life had been spared too often to call this a battle to the death. And he was tiring, as bad as it was to admit. Not enough to worry, but if nothing changed, Vader would defeat him through sheer exhaustion.
"I grow weary of this, Jedi," Vader declared, as if sensing his conclusion, his saber pointed down as he held the Jedi's gaze. "End this or I shall."
Mace narrowed his gaze and tightened his grip on his saber, prompting Vader to raise his own. There were no words, no exchanges among the crowd of Jedi. Not even the bombardment of the Dark Side could distract from the battle, like something right from the tales of old, of the battles against the Sith Empire.
The Force swelled with them once more, for what felt to be the crescendo of their duel. Mace Windu stared intently at Vader, perceiving a shatterpoint in the left arm. Damage or strain on the prosthetic? Windu couldn't be sure, just that he knew he now saw his opening.
Vader stood his ground as Mace Windu leapt forward, sabers locking in an instant. But Mace only held his weapon with one hand this time. Not enough to go toe-to-toe with Vader's superior physical strength, but it didn't have to be. It just had to last long enough for his free hand to reach the shatterpoint.
Time seemed to slow down as the two locked gazes, two unwavering and opposing wills battling against on another. But, if one watched closely, they would have seen it. Just before Mace's hand reached Vader's arm, the Master of the Order's face was morphing towards confusion.
What only Mace Windu knew through sheer proximity was that Vader was surprised as well.
The tension broke and many gasped in shock as a third saber came down on the pair, forcing their interlocked blades to be pushed down to the ground before the two opponents took a step back from the third party.
"Master Yoda?" Mace asked in disbelief as the small, green Jedi had a hard look about his normally kind face. Without answering, Yoda extended out his hands and unleashed a tremendous Force Push.
On both of them.
Neither prepared, Vader and Windu found themselves straining against the incredible stream of Force power that had them skidding back many feet away from one another in opposite directions. Despite having all the might of the Dark Side at his back, Vader had to strain his powers to push back against the ancient Jedi. It wasn't something he could just dodge, the push being so large that all the Jedi even remotely in the direction behind him and Windu had to move out of the way to avoid being thrown about by the Grandmaster's power.
Surprise attack or not, Sith Lord and Master of the Order alike eventually halted their forced retreats. Yoda, in turned, suddenly ceased his assault, leaving everything in silence for a brief instance. With a deep breath, Yoda turned to Vader with a scowl, who eyed him warily as the grandmaster...deactivated and holstered his lightsaber?
"Master Yoda, what are you doing?!" Mace Windu called out, completely baffled by the eldest Jedi's actions.
"End this, he said," Yoda said over his shoulder, but never taking his eyes off Vader. "The match, what he meant, it was." With a flick of fingers, Yoda's walking stick suddenly descended from the sky, landing next to Yoda as he grasped it. "End this, I believe, I have," Yoda stated, tapping his staff with finality as he nodded to Vader.
The Dark Lord stared for a moment before he understood the small Jedi's point. Glancing from side to side, he saw that Yoda had clearly pushed him out past where the make shift ring of debris that Vader had made for this fight had been.
With a moment of consideration, Vader deactivated his own lightsaber with a nod. "Well played, Grandmaster," Vader admitted, not expecting the move even if he didn't admit it. To Yoda, this had no doubt drawn out too long, knowing the Dark Side would not stop battering the temple and minds of the lesser Jedi until this battle was over.
"You surrender?" Mace Windu asked with an unconvinced scowl.
"Of course not, Jedi. I am only assuming your Grandmaster was finally ready to hear why I am here," Vader countered, annoyance clear in his voice.
There were murmurs and a great deal of tensing among the crowd as Mace Windu glared at the Sith Lord. "You have assaulted-"
"Subdued," Vader cut off, crossing his arms. "Or are you still blind to the fact that every Jedi I have fought here is alive and mostly uncrippled?"
"And what possible reason could you have to justify "subduing" Jedi in the first place?" Windu demanded harshly.
"Well, here we go," Obi-Wan muttered at Qui-Gon sighed and Dooku just watched on curiously.
"Self-defense," Vader explained in the most casual of tones. "I tried to explain to your fellow Jedi that I was merely delivering something, but they seemed to take offense to my explanation."
"You call THAT self-defense?!" a Jedi exclaimed in outrage, a feeling shared by many.
"My apologies, what exactly is the appropriate amount of self-defense against an army of Jedi that have no interest in listening to reason, rushing towards one's self with sabers drawn?" Vader questioned rhetorically.
Mace grimaced as he realized that, from an outside view, Vader's assault likely painted the Jedi in a worse light than Vader's own actions.
"Delivery?" Yoda questioned with a raised eyebrow, clearly humoring Vader for the moment.
Slowly and deliberately, Vader raised one of his hands up with an open palm. Everyone watched cautiously as they sensed him pulling something with the Force. Something far away.
A few calls of alarm came from the Jedi further down the steps as they turned to see something had shot out of the hovercar Vader had arrived in, soaring over them and through the air. As it went straight for Vader, many saw that whatever Vader's "delivery" was, it was in a purple cloth of something kind.
Its descent slowed rapidly, allowing Vader to hold it up by the cloth, eliciting much shock from all the Jedi. There, in his grasp, was an unconscious yet clearly alive Dark Woman.
"The Dark Woman? What is she...?" Mace asked in honest confusion, having not known her to be in the republic capital until now.
"I suspected that you were unaware of her activities," Vader mused as he deposited her on the ground in Yoda's direction. "She broke into a Senator's private residence while they were away. Seeing as she can turn invisible, I assumed that I should bring this matter and herself into your custody personally instead of the Coruscant police."
"Done to her, what have you?" Yoda demanded with a glare.
"Only a mild Dark Side technique to suppress her consciousness for a time. I am certain your healers will have it undone before sunrise," Vader assured, leaving out just who had done it.
"Was all of this truly necessary, for that?" Qui-Gon questioned as he stepped forward, giving Vader a look of disapproval.
Vader held his gaze before, to the shock of some, nodding. "You are correct. If the four Jedi had not attacked, I would not have called upon the Dark Side as I have," he answered, which was technically true, even if he knew it was nearly impossible for the Jedi to have not overreacted to this exact situation. "But with your action, I took it upon myself to deliver two messages, along with your Dark Woman," Vader admitted, turning his attention back to Yoda. "You know the first message very well now, Grandmaster."
Yoda nodded grimly. "Here, we are," he repeated. "The Dark Side, you spoke for, on its behalf?"
"And all those that use it," Vader answered, even as he felt the summation of the Dark Side beginning to drain back across the Galaxy now that the fighting was done. It would take time, but it was dissipating.
And the Jedi sensed it as well, grudgingly gaining some measure of relief. "And the second message?" Qui-Gon asked before anyone could tempt to break this awkward peace.
"Something that this incident has made very, very clear," Vader stated with a firm tone. "It is time we had a talk, Jedi."