A New Jedi in an Old Republic

Garamost

Hidden Facility

The explosion of the RPG pushed into all three corridors leading from the intersection; a blast of heat, shrapnel and compressed air filled the volume where the two Sith stood. Ventress was no fool, and neither was her sister in the Night, and the ambush they walked into meant that they were still being defensively minded in their actions.

Which meant that she threw herself with the Force down the hallway to her left, away from the ambushers and her partner. With ringing in her ears, she twisted to land on her feet, sliding down the corridor a few meters to get clear of the initial blast, as well as any followup explosions. None came, and she realized that it was because the area where they had stood was still being fired upon by Republic blasters.

It was a brilliant trap, she had to admit, for what now were obviously Clones as she reached out in the Force to take measure of her opponents. Had it been turrets, this would have been such an embarrassing failure that she would have fallen on her own weapons rather than admit to it.

"Ventress," the comlink in her ear hissed to life. Saato's voice was a little rough, enough that Ventress though that she may have been closer to the explosion than she was.

"Alive and unharmed," Ventress replied as she stepped back, a clink of metal on metal making her duck into a doorway that refused to open for her. A bright flash and a bang of noise threatened to disrupt her concentraion, but she refused to falter. "We should regroup and flank these fools."

"No," Saato replied. "I will kill them. You go ahead and link up with the Twins and direct them to complete the mission." Unsaid was the thought that Ventress couldn't complete it by herself, which caused her to rankle.

But orders were orders, as long as she could still salvage the plan, she would follow them as long as it was prudent to do so. "Good hunting, Sister." It wasn't a Sith invocation, but one from their home on Dathomir, a reminder of their shared heritage.

Saato simply closed the link, leaving Ventress alone with her thoughts.

* * *

Down the hall, fire slackened as Delta Squad took turns to reload. "Delta-Lead," Jan spoke to Boss, being very professional in her address now that contact with the enemy had been made. "Your targets have split up. They may be attempting to flank."

Boss had trained for that, and the orders were natural. "Cease Fire!" His command was instantly obeyed, "Fall back to point 3, and ready there. Our intruders have split up."

"Not going hunting?" Sev asked, almost sounding disappointed.

"No," Boss replied. "They're splitting up, and I'd rather draw them further in before we start getting serious."

"I like how you think we weren't being serious there," Fixer noted. "Falling back to Three."

"Agent," Boss spoke on the channel reserved for him and the woman who was watching the cameras, "where are they headed?"

"Target Two is falling back," Jan said as she plotted things on the map beside her. "I think she's trying to link up with one of the other forces. I will alert them. The other is making through side rooms to your left, approximately 50 meters away."

"Scorch! Ready your charges for Bravo-Two-One through Two-Seven!"

"Ready!" Scorch was looking forward to this.

"Detonate!"

Break Room

"Sora Bulq," Mace spoke evenly, "We don't have to do this. You can return to the Temple. Get healing for what you have gone through." He knew that his old friend liked to use a second lightsaber shoto in his off hand, but did not see it. Which meant nothing. And Vos was standing a respectful distance away.

"I need no healing," Sora replied. "So much life lost, the only way to preserve it is to rule directly!" He circled to the right, forcing Mace to counter that with motion of his own. "Dooku is right, the Republic is rotten. It must be purged so that more lives can be saved."

"And how many will you kill in the process?"

"Every one regrettable, but for the greater good of the Galaxy," Sora rebuked Mace's simple counter.

"Then why call yourself Sith?" Mace tried a different approach, the two Vaapad masters not yet ready for the confrontation. "They are evil!"

"No!" Sora replied. "You only think they are evil because you have no knowledge of anything outside the Temple!"

"I am here," Mace shook his head gently without taking his eyes off his opponent, "I am capable of learning from those who have not turned their back on us."

"I have not turned my back on the Force. Rather, I have embraced it as I should have a long time ago when we first started developing this style," Sora liked where this was going. He would regret killing Windu, but the loss of such a high-profile Jedi will further hamper the activities of the Republic, bringing the final victory that much closer.

"Vaapad is a style of lightsaber fighting," Mace pointed out, "it is not some means to live."

"You betray your ignorance, Mace Windu." Sora raised his weapon into the first position for their mutual style. "Prove to me that you are better, and perhaps I will listen."

Mace raised his own weapon, and reached for the Force. Then they moved.

For Vos, watching the impending duel was like feeling a great buildup of pressure in the Force, two implacable foes set on a collision. They both knew it, and their words were simply the passing formality before they spoke with their weapons.

Quinlan knew that both of them had worked to create a style of combat based off the Seventh Form which could be adapted to the Dark Side. It was one of the reasons why Dooku was so interested in Sora's transfer of loyalties to him.

Then they moved.

At first, their fight was simply to show off their physical prowess, a means to establish a sort of domination through a demonstration of personal might. The blades hummed through the air, filling the space between them with arcs of red and purple. Vos took a step back, knowing that if he tried to get involved, he would be cut to pieces by either combatant.

And then the Dark Side rose. Between the two, the sickly sensation of the Dark Side emerged, the factors of the conflict in front of him making it unavoidable.

Sora attacked first, a slash at Windu that would cut off his arm. The Force flowed with the attack, but Mace caught the Blade and the Force with his own, and turned it. Not aside, as Vos would have done, but back at Bulq.

In that moment, Vos saw the elegant and beautiful truth behind Vaapad, one that he knew he could never master. The two combatants would simply volley the Force between each other, building up with each motion until one was overpowered and undone.

Not even the distant explosion could distract them from their objective.

Smelting Room

Kyle advanced on the two Dark Jedi, saber ignited but carefully guarding him. His personal shield was active, but he would prefer not to test its endurance by letting them hit him with no response. They split up a bit more, one taking the lead on his right, while the other hung back.

They would try to flank him, he knew. It was natural given the way they moved. And the walkway was too large to prevent it. He couldn't just shoot them, as actual Force Users were a bit better at defending themselves from blasters and the like. And talking was out of the question.

He could take the offense, but that would just open him up to their attacks sooner.

But it wasn't like he was avoiding it. The whole idea was to pick a fight.

Drawing on the Force, Kyle lunged. The burst of speed let him cover the remaining distance between him and the closer enemy, a quick lunge turning into a shallow slash as he threw himself out of the way.

In the Force, Kyle could see how this would go. He saw the way they held themselves, how they interacted with the Force. Even as he found himself meditating on the battle, even as he turned aside blades that sought him out, he wondered where he got this newfound vision.

And he knew.

Control Room

Jan didn't like this one bit. One one hand, she saw Kyle engaging in battle. Old fears rose, but she put them down. Kyle was Kyle, and he was too good to die. On another set of cameras, she watched as Delta set up another ambush, though for all her searching, she could not find the missing Sith.

Had their explosions really taken her out? She wouldn't be certain until she had put a blaster bolt into the body herself. "Section Gamma-7 clear of motion," she told the Squad, and they shifted to face the next most likely approach.

"Roger that," Boss said. "Moving to Gamma-Five."

"Understood," Jan replied, switching camera feeds. With the fight going on between Master Windu and his own opponent, Jan had made the decision to route Delta to there to bring more force to bear against him and the one that held back. But so far, it was a one-on-one duel, and when she had let the Clones know about it, they had started discussing plans to intervene while she maintained overwatch.

"Gamma Six, clear of motion," she reported, turning back to work.

Break Room

As they fought, Mace felt the Dark Side seep into him. It was corruptive in its coolness, seeking to seep into his body and his mind, calling out that it would be so easy to finish this mockery of a fight if he allowed it to exert itself.

He refused, throwing the temptation, the sweeping crimson blade and Sora himself back in a single burst of his will. His fallen compatriot steadied himself instantly, dancing with the needs of Vaapad even as Mace did the same. There was little room for external thoughts now that they were in the middle of a fight. Motion and counter, attack and defend. Keep one eye on their surroundings, and another on the opponent in front of them.

Sora's blade and his danced around each other, lightly touching before being redirected to find or close an opening. It was an old thing between the two, but now they would carry it to a destination they had never considered before.

Mace controlled himself, for he knew that while wild abandon may give him strength, it would not be enough to see him through to the end. No, he was master over himself. Not the false promises that came from skirting against the Dark Side. That would only show he was weak.

The battle raged.

Vos found himself pressed further and further back as these two behemoths dueled. He would have been useless in this fight, the way they went at it.

But only because it was the two of them. Their mutual combat style tore into each other like nothing he had ever seen before, even as their ferocity would be blunted against someone who fought differently. They were above him, and for once his internal conflicts gave way, no longer tormenting him as he became aware of just how outmatched he could be.

Observation Deck

Ventress tore the door off its hinges in her anger at yet another delay. She was so close to the twins, she could taste them.

And she could sense the one they fought as well. It defied her ability to explain, even as the sensations seemed familiar. She had felt it before, but she could not place it.

The observation deck she found herself on was windowed to prevent the people there from being made uncomfortable by the operation of the currently inactive machines. And out those floor-to-ceiling windows, she saw something that made her blood run cold.

The Twins were fighting a Jedi.

And losing.

She saw it in an instant, in the Force and with her eyes. While her two fellow Acolytes had a certain amount of acceptable pride in their skills, what she saw here made a mockery of every bit of vanity they held.

Oh, their technical forms were perfect, without flaw. They moved in unison to attack the Jedi from multiple angles, aiming to keep him off balance until one or the other struck the final, fatal blow. Their choreography was practiced hour after hour, day after day. She had seen it herself, and admired the dedication they held to their goal.

Yet they were losing.

She watched as this Jedi stepped around them. It was an economy of motion she had only seen in those who were long experienced in battle, whose skills had advanced to the point where they no longer saw fit to brag about themselves, for they simply were.

And it wasn't because he fought against them. No, she saw clearly and with a focus she did not know she had, it was because he fought with them. This man who did not dress like a Jedi or a Sith did not seek to direct his opponents, trying to overpower them as a lesser combatant would. Nor did he try to fight them one at a time. Instead, he seemed to seek out the moments where they could bring themselves against him with all their might.

The twins, thanks to their deep connection through the Force, fought as one, a singular organism that had two bodies.

But against this man, that was not enough.

he has power

She shook her head of the whisper in the Force. Too far away to intercede, she knew that by the time she got there, it would be over, one way or the other. For this man, this Jedi, he was strong in the Force. Not only in the Force, but in the Dark Side. She reached out to feel it, and in touching it, she saw more than she knew she could.

He fought inside the styles of the Twins, and her own observations only confirmed that. Two-as-One had become Three-as-One, and they hadn't even noticed.

And they didn't know how to respond to that. It was always one-on-one with them against each other, or two-on-one, as Saato had recognized and planned for.

learn from him

The voice in the Force almost distracted her, but seemed to quiet down when she realized that.

She saw everything, and then everything changed. The Jedi changed slightly in his form, a foot going there instead of there where it should have, a mistake that she could see from her distant vantage point was not a mistake at all. But up close? It looked like a fatal error.

The twin behind him – she could not tell the difference at this range – stepped in to pierce his foe through his unprotected side. Ventress saw this, just as she saw the counter-strike forming. The man kneeled, lowering his head and shoulders to avoid the blow he could not possibly see and reversed his saber, pointing it backwards under his shoulder.

With the first blow evaded, the rest was simple to foresee. The other twin, seeing naught but a stationary target, swung down with his weapon, aiming at the Jedi's head.

But he pushed himself back, stepping up in the process. The second's blade found nothing but air, then buried itself in the walkway even as the Jedi's weapon buried itself in the torso of the first twin.

Shock radiated out in the Force, quickly dying out as the Jedi released his weapon, turning it off to safely reset its position. The twin behind him fell back as the hole in his chest smoldered where the cauterized wound was exposed to the air. Without breaking his flow of motion, he reached out with his free hand and gripped the air, using the Force to transfer his strength to the throat of the other Dark Jedi, using the Dark Side even as he rejected it. He spoke words, then activated his lightsaber, throwing it at the floating Acolyte.

The spinning blade sheared through the Dark Jedi, killing him instantly. The Jedi dropped the body and summoned his blade with the Force before turning back to his first victim.

He was still alive, but the Jedi held his saber above the heart of the Acolyte. More words were said, Ventress could not hear them, but felt they were one last request for surrender – words that were tossed back at the Jedi.

he is sith

The blade fell.

* * *

Kyle looked up. It was no easy battle, but nor was it the hardest. Once he had seen through their patterns, it was easy to hold his own until a mistake could be made, or generated.

He felt the new observer in the Force, reached out to see if they were friend or foe. They were foe, obviously, but so intent they were on watching the fight that it was easy for him to perceive things that he could not have ordinarily done.

Except he had never done that. And his thoughts turned back to the Valley, and the 'gifts' given by Lords Hoth and Khan. He had no frame of reference, so even as he turned to face the enemy intruder, he knew that he would need help from the Temple – sooner, rather than later.

But now, it was time to put on a show. "Are you gonna come down here, or what?" he yelled out.

Corridor

She had led them into an ambush. There was no way around that.

Saato felt the deaths of the Twins. She did not look forward to explaining that to Dooku, though she supposed she could rightly point out that Ventress obviously failed in her task to assist them. It wasn't her fault at all.

But right now, she stood outside the door that was marked 'Command'. Through it, she could feel out the single life of the non-Force user that hid there. A lone target, easy pickings.

She wanted to reach out and open the door, but the Force warned her against it. That she was in danger, standing right there. That if she opened the door and brought harm to the person on the other side, she would die.

But what danger could a single person pose to a Sith? She activated her lightsaber, and readied herself to assassinate this fool.

With its warnings ignored, the tenseness in the Force fell away. With that sign as her making the right choice, Saato opened the door with a flick of the wrist, for it wasn't even locked. There would be something positive to come out of this, even as everything else fell apart for the others.

Not even the traps laid down by the cowardly soldiers of the Republic could stop her.

The door was opened, and she had enough time to see a blast-shield erected about three paces inside the room. And the explosives facing her just as they detonated.