#oc: corellan halcyon | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

swtorpadawan · 2 months ago

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Code Breakers

Author’s Notes: The following story serves as “Part Three” and the conclusion of my In the Shadow of the Hero Trilogy, a storyline that I began with Training Day and Incomplete and featuring my original character in Tyzen Pyne. As with those previous entries, it is part of my expanded Halcyon Legacy, and takes place on Odessen sometime between the Knights of the Fallen Empire and the Knights of the Eternal Throne expansions.

Tyzen Pyne hurried up the hill overlooking the Alliance base on Odessen, joining the many who had already made the trek.

Despite all the bustle and activity – and Tyzen’s lingering anxiety from running late to this gathering – it felt peaceful here.

The Force felt peaceful here.

Looking around, he was awed to see so many people having already assembled.

More than forty individuals were now gathered around the hilltop. Most of them were wearing brown robes of varying styles. Others wore the adaptable armor plating that had become popular during the various conflicts over the years. Others still wore more nondescript garb, clothing that - aside perhaps from the presence of a lightsaber clipped to their belts – would not give away their identities or allegiance.

Jedi. Tyzen marveled.

This was by far the most Jedi that he had seen in one place in years. Not since early in the Zakuulan Invasion, when he and other Padawans had been Knighted on Tython before being sent off to fight.

And to die.

Back before the Republic had given up any hope for victory against the Eternal Empire and before the Jedi Order had been shattered.

As had Tyzen.

And now he was here. On Odessen. Ready to take the fight back to the Zakuulans. Standing amongst the last group of Jedi in the galaxy who could make that claim.

Not for the first time that day, Tyzen thought of Liam Dentiri, his old Master, dead at the hands of some bounty hunter in the pay of Imperials on Tython years ago when the Sith Empire had attacked, prior to the Revanite Crisis.

What would he have thought of his former padawan now?

He was lucky to have learned about this gathering at all, given that his transport – actually a freighter piloted by a friendly smuggler – had only arrived on Odessen late last night, and he’d met only a handful of people in that time.

Fortunately for him, Sana-Rae, the Voss Mystic and leader of the Alliance’s Force Enclave, had kindly informed him of this meeting of all the Jedi who had joined the Alliance when he’d gone to meet her.

Tyzen regarded the crowd, trying to see if he could recognize anyone in all the small clusters of Jedi congregating amongst themselves.

Although a diverse group by nature, one Jedi stood out to him immediately, her blue skin and red eyes giving her a distinct appearance.

He had never met Master Dazh Ranos, one of the exceedingly rare Chiss who had left their Ascendency to serve with the Jedi Order. But Tyzen had heard rumors about her back on Tython. Despite her achieving the rank of Master, it was said that the Chiss Jedi had never agreed with the Council’s policies and had eventually withdrawn to make her own place in the galaxy, journeying through the Outer Rim Territories and helping people wherever she could. Tyzen imagined that she had seen parts of the galaxy that had never seen a Jedi, especially at times when so many had been needed closer to the galaxy’s core.

He didn’t recognize the towering Ithorian Jedi standing at her side, but he’d already been told that his name was Choza Raabat. Serving as a Jedi Knight during the Cold War, Raabat had crashed on a distant planet in the Unknown Regions while leading a Republic patrol. Marooned for a decade, the Jedi had eventually returned to a galaxy turned upside down with the Order all but wiped out the Republic suffering through another defeat, this time at the hands of the ascendant Eternal Empire.

Tyzen had heard that the Alliance Commander himself had personally recruited Choza to his cause while on a mission to destroy the Zakuulan Star Fortress above Alderaan some weeks ago. Since then, he – alongside Master Ranos – had taken up a de facto position of leadership among the Alliance Jedi.

That story hadn’t surprised him; Tyzen already had the impression that a great many people had joined the Alliance based on prior meetings with the famous Outlander.

Case in point was the next Jedi he recognized.

Mennaus was a Zabrak Jedi Knight just like Tyzen. The stoic man was only in his mid-thirties but he carried himself like a wizened Jedi Master with decades of experience, seeming to speak only when he had something to say, but doing so with an impressive gravity.

Tyzen had met Mennaus two years ago on Coruscant. Well beneath the surface, of course. Places like the Works were one of the few places left on the Republic capital where they could avoid detection from Zakuul and their dreaded Fortresses. Mennaus had impressed Tyzen with his bearing and resolve; the man seemed to have endured the difficult years in the Coruscanti underground surprisingly well. They had exchanged information, then spoken briefly about easier days back on Tython. Mennaus revealed that, years before on Tython, he had once been saved by a fellow Padawan during the Flesh Raider Uprising.

That same Padawan, nearly thirteen years later, now commanded the Alliance.

As he recognized more individuals from the crowd, Tyzen looked around, trying to pick out the Alliance Commander. Sana-Rae had told him that it had been the Outlander himself who had called this meeting. Perhaps he was still making his way from the base.

Tyzen deeply regretted not being able to meet with the Commander since his arrival on Odessen the day before. There were things he wanted to say to him. And to ask him.

After all, he hadn’t seen Corellan Halcyon in seven years.

Tyzen had only met Master Corellan twice before, but both encounters had left a profound impression on his life. He very much would have liked the chance to reintroduce himself to the man once known to the galaxy as the Hero of Tython.

He probably won’t even remember me. Tyzen reminded himself, regretfully.

To many Jedi of Tyzen’s generation, the last class of Jedi Knights to have come of age on Tython before ‘The Fall’, Corellan Halcyon, the venerated Hero of Tython, was the reason the words ‘I am a Jedi’ meant something.

Before Master Corellan had disappeared, presumed killed in action. Just before the Zakuulan Invasion had begun.

Tyzen hoped he had grown up somewhat since those earlier encounters with the famed Hero of Tython. Perhaps not that much taller; his body has stopped growing vertically around seventeen. He’d filled out a bit; his muscles developing and his shoulders growing wider and more confident. Still, overall his build had remained relatively lean and agile, as it had been when he’d been a Padawan.

But his eyes had seen more of the galaxy.

Perhaps too much.

True, Tyzen had not been present for The Fall when – despite a heroic effort and countless sacrifices – the Jedi and their Republic allies on Tython had broken. When Master Satele, the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order, had gone missing, apparently on some unsanctioned personal mission. The only members of the Council still active, Masters Ulannium and Gnost-Dural, had evacuated the Temple and the fabled Jedi home world, taking with them all the Jedi they could save and leading them into exile.

Denielle had gone with them.

Denielle.

He’d tried not to think about her over the years. He’d also tried not to think about her smile. Her laugh. Her kindness. Her touch.

Above all, he’d tried not to think about the sensation of her soft lips pressed against his.

It had all been a mistake. He’d told himself after they’d ended it. The Masters had always preached against such “connections”.

But Tyzen couldn’t deny their all too brief relationship had left a mark upon his soul. He still felt her absence from his life keenly, even after all this time.

It had been more than five years since he had seen her.

Not since that night on Tatooine when she’d departed off-world with the other Jedi from their combat group, fully understanding that her next battle would be on Tython.

Where the Order would either make good on their escape or face annihilation.

Their parting – he knew other people would have called it a breakup – had been somber. There had been no harsh words; just a regret and acceptance that both of them now felt compelled to follow different paths.

Tyzen understood that Denielle felt that the Jedi on Tython – already preparing to evacuate – needed her aid the most. After all, the fate of the Jedi Order would be decided there.

But there had been people on Tatooine – and countless other worlds – who would need the Jedi’s help. Who needed Tyzen’s help.

And he told himself that Corellan Halcyon wouldn’t have abandoned all those people.

So they had kissed one final time, before Denielle, tears in her eyes, had turned her back to him and left.

Tyzen’s plan to keep fighting on Tatooine had been futile, of course. Within a month, Algrunar, the only other Jedi who had stayed behind, had been killed and what counted for the local government on Tatooine had capitulated. When he’d realized that the people of Tatooine had only suffered more for his presence, Tyzen had finally been forced to flee as well, a local farmer named Galen Besk providing him with a way off-world.

By then, Denielle and the other Jedi had left Tyzen and the rest of the galaxy behind.

He could only hope that she was alright.

Not much later, he’d received a short message from Master Bela Kiwiiks. The encrypted communique had been routed through a secure relay and into his private drop account, no doubt to avoid detection by the Eternal Empire. The Togrutan Jedi had served on the Council for as long as Tyzen could remember, and he’d once helped her evacuate younglings from the Temple during the same battle where Liam Dentiri had met his end.

Master Kiwiiks confirmed to him that most of the surviving Jedi had successfully escaped off Tython and into exile, but that the Force had called on a different path.

Tyzen found that he wasn’t surprised. Master Kiwiiks was still highly regarded for her wisdom and compassion, but she’d be the first to admit that her days as a warrior were long past. He did not fault her for her for making such a choice.

She and her unnamed companions – he suspected they were again younglings, representing the future of the Jedi – were safe for the moment, and she was now caring for those who most needed it.

Tyzen again found that he wasn’t surprised. Master Kiwiiks was a natural caregiver. The council had selected her to oversee the well-being of the Order’s younglings in the first place for a good reason.

She’d somehow known that Tyzen hadn’t been with the Jedi who’d fled Tython and told him that if he needed sanctuary from the Zakuulans, she could offer it.

The offer did not surprise him. She’d always shown him such compassion. That she’d take a risk, however small, to offer him a safe-haven actually seemed natural for her.

When he had declined her offer, Tyzen’s own choice had surprised him a bit.

Fighting the Zakuulans on his own? Without the support of the Jedi? For a Republic that had all but surrendered?

Tyzen had been terrified.

But he knew he couldn’t give up. He had to keep fighting for those who couldn’t flee or protect themselves. If not on Tatooine, then on a hundred other worlds.

Because he knew that the Hero of Tython wouldn’t have given up.

In the dark days that followed, Tyzen helped whomever he could, whenever he could, however he could, while finding food and shelter wherever he could, all the while never staying in the same place for long.

The Eternal Empire’s pogrom against the Jedi had been vicious and even more devastating than what the Order of the Sith had faced. Clearly, Emperor Arcann had determined that if there was a threat of resistance against their rule, the Jedi would have been the most likely source for such a spark of hope for the galaxy.

Now on Odessen, as part of an Alliance led by a Jedi, Tyzen supposed that history had proven that assertion correct.

The so-called ‘Shadow Temple’ network, those Jedi who hadn’t withdrawn from the galaxy and who were now operating in an informal underground, had determined that the few Jedi still active and opposing Zakuul would live longer when they didn’t stay together for longer than was strictly necessary. Occasionally, he’d get word about another Jedi. Sometimes he would hear a bit of gossip that some other Jedi or another was still active and something of their activities.

More often, he’d hear that someone had been caught and killed.

Still, he’d worked with a few other Jedi off and on over the years. Unaw Aharo. Shigar Konshi. Attros Finn. A handful of others. He’d realized one day that most of these individuals were only a few years older than Tyzen himself.

There seemed to be so few of the old Masters still left.

It had been a hard life. And a lonely life.

But he had kept at it. Again, because he knew the Hero of Tython wouldn’t have given up.

Even his cousin, Karache, had eventually reached out to him. He hadn’t seen the Republic Special Forces soldier-turn-independent bounty hunter in more than a decade, but the older Zabrak had nevertheless offered him a place in his crew.

“The Jedi are long gone, Tyzen.” Karache Pyne had declared in his holo-message. “It’s everyone for themselves, out here. Why don’t you come with me? You’d be good in a fight. We can use you.”

By then, Tyzen desperately wanted to say yes. The years had taken a toll on him. Too many cold and hungry nights. Too many allies lost.

Too many friends lost.

Even worse, Tyzen had started to lose hope.

He turned his cousin down, again choosing to follow his own path. The path of the hero.

Because the Hero of Tython wouldn’t have given up.

And now, after nearly five years of fighting, running and hiding, Tyzen found himself here on Odessen. Ready to fight alongside the Hero of Tython.

As if on cue, Tyzen felt a sudden surge in the Force.

The light side of the Force had already felt strong atop this hill, in the presence of so many Jedi. It was peaceful and calming and soothed his wounded soul.

Now it was as if a blinding spotlight were being shown down on them all, even though it was late morning, and the sun was already high in the sky.

It was powerful and invigorating and inspirational.

Had Master Corellan Halcyon been concealing himself, somehow? Hiding behind some nearby bushes, or perhaps a tree a short distance away? Maybe he’d somehow hidden himself through the Force?

It didn’t matter. Tyzen decided. Regardless of where he’d been, he was suddenly there, standing at ease amidst the Jedi. From his confident stance and smile, he’d obviously been watching for some time now, choosing the moment to make his entrance.

Tyzen noted immediately that Corellan wasn’t wearing the distinctive brown Jedi robes or the adaptive body armor he had made famous during his years as the Hero of Tython. Instead he was clad in a new garment; this uniform was elaborate, predominantly white plating with black sleeves and trousers. The accoutrements had a distinctly… Zakuulan flavor, much to Tyzen’s surprise.

But even so, this was who Master Corellan Halcyon, the Hero of Tython, the Battlemaster of the Jedi Order and the champion of the known galaxy, had become.

And if anything, he had become an even greater hero. Just a few weeks ago, Master Corellan had defeated Emperor Arcann in orbit over Odessen, effectively toppling that tyrant from the Eternal Throne. Zakuul was now ruled by Arcann’s sister, Vaylin, who if anything was even more cruel and insane than her brother.

Everyone on Odessen seemed convinced that the Commander and his Alliance would now defeat Empress Vaylin and end the Eternal Empire that had plagued the galaxy for so many years.

Master Corellan himself looked to be in excellent health, despite the countless challenges he had faced. Tyzen had heard, of course, about the five years that he had spent imprisoned in carbonite, isolated from the rest of the galaxy. The reason why he’d been missing for so long. The reason why he’d missed the war. Why he hadn’t been there to save the Jedi, the Republic and the galaxy.

As difficult as the last few years had been for Tyzen, the younger Jedi couldn’t imagine losing so much time off his life.

Still, Corellan looked older. Not physically, exactly. But there was a look in his pale blue eyes that was somehow more… something.

“Thank you all for coming.” Corellan Halcyon formally began the gathering with a welcoming smile. It was the same expression Tyzen had once seen on countless Republic military recruitment posters during the war against the Sith Empire.

The ‘Hero of Tython’ smile.

Looking around, Tyzen could see that the other Jedi had been as startled by Corellan’s sudden appearance as he had been. After a moment of bustle, however, the gathered Jedi settled down to listen.

“I have three matters I wanted to speak with you all about today. Things you all have a right to hear directly from me. I wanted to do so in a place where we had relative privacy.”

His arms opened wide, as if taking in the scenery around them on the hilltop.

“I assure you all, I have seen to it that we may all speak freely here.”

The implication of his declaration was not lost on Tyzen. He recalled hearing that the Alliance’s Chief of Staff, Lana Beniko, was a Sith as well as having once served as the Empire’s Director of Sith Intelligence. Likewise, it was said that there were many other former spies in the Alliance from both the Republic and the Empire, as well as others who would have – until recently at least – had more than enough reason to ‘observe’ the Jedi.

Corellan Halcyon was staking his word that none of these elements would be a concern for them today.

“For the first matter, I’d like to formally thank all of you for making it to Odessen and joining the Alliance. Regardless of whether you were here on the day we laid ground on the base or if you’re only just now arriving, the fact that you were willing to endure such challenges and dangers just to reach this point is remarkable. I know full well that there are many we all would have wished to have with us today who did not make.”

He paused, a somber expression across his face.

Tyzen momentarily thought about the many Jedi had known who’d been killed over the years. He urgently suppressed the emotion as Corellan continued to speak.

“I also know the last several years must have been incredibly difficult for most of you. Both as Jedi and as people.”

Corellan’s eyes drifted among the crowd, turning from Jedi to Jedi, catching several of them in his gaze before continuing on to the next. He finally caught Tyzen himself, and the young Zabrak felt a rush of excitement course through him.

“Likewise, that you would show such trust in me by coming here under such conditions honors me more than I can ever tell you. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to express my gratitude for that, and I hope to prove myself worthy of it.”

Many of the assembled Jedi gave murmurs of assent and affirmation while others waited patiently. Tyzen distinctly picked up the words “We’re with you, Master Corellan.” from one of the younger Jedi.

Not trusting himself to speak, Tyzen found himself simply nodding. He could not think of anyone better suited to lead this fight against Zakuul than the Hero of Tython. Corellan Halcyon was surely the leader who would lead the Jedi back to glory. He would shatter the Eternal Empire’s grip on power and would usher in a new era of peace to the galaxy.

Nevertheless, Tyzen kept his peace, eager to hear more. Through the eddies of the Force around him, he noted that the words had been well-received and appreciated by the Jedi of the Alliance.

But everyone seemed to understand that this was all prelude to something much more important.

Tyzen hoped he knew what that was. Whether he knew it or not, Corellan Halcyon was now leading the largest active contingent of Jedi in the known galaxy.

Why shouldn’t he declare himself Grandmaster of the Order? Tyzen asked himself, speculating.

The Alliance Commander, after a moment’s pause, pressed on.

“The second matter I wanted to share with you was that we have two new additions to the Alliance who are arriving within in a few days: Leeha Narezz and Jomar Chul. For those who are unfamiliar with them, I can personally attest that both are veteran Jedi Knights of great ability and experience. I have no doubt that their arrival will greatly benefit the Alliance.”

Tyzen recognized the names. He had never met either of those Jedi, but they had been active during the last war against the Sith Empire. If he recalled correctly, Leeha was a famed droid engineer while Jomar had been one of the finest reconnaissance scouts and infiltration experts in the Order before the Eternal Empire’s invasion. Both were just a few years older than Master Corellan.

More recently, he’d heard a rumor that they had served off and on with the Shadow Temple since the invasion these last few years, as had Tyzen.

Corellan paused again, letting another murmur pass through the assembled group before continuing. At some point, this Jedi hero, considered by many the greatest warrior in the galaxy, had learned the art of public speaking. Clearly, he was carefully weighing the mood of his audience.

“With their consent, I am informing you all ahead of their arrival that the two of them have been living openly in a romantic relationship and they have been for several years.”

Tyzen blinked as the resurgence of urgent murmuring resumed, with several of the Jedi present beginning to call out questions for the Alliance Commander. Inevitably, Tyzen himself could only think of his relationship with Denielle with regret.

She had made the choice she’d had to make, and so had he.

That didn’t mean it hurt less.

But for Leeha and Jomar, acknowledging such public breakings from the Jedi code would usually result in their dismissal from the Order.

Corellan calmly waited for the assembled Jedi to digest his words, then held up a forestalling hand. He had clearly expected such a reaction.

Slowly, the crowd became calm.

“For the record, speaking strictly as the Alliance Commander, I meant what I said before. I have no concerns whatsoever about Leeha or Jomar’s ability to reliably serve as members of the Alliance.” He paused. “However, I know that many of you would have concerns about Jedi openly embracing such a… connection. I assure you, Leeha and Jomar are not oblivious to the implications of their relationship for the rest of you.”

There was another pause as the gathered Jedi seemed to collectively nod in understanding.

“As you know, the council is currently absent, and there is no other legitimate authority to govern such matters. Therefore, I leave it to you to decide whether or not they should be considered Jedi. Both Leeha and Jomar have assured me that they will accept whatever judgement you reach without complaint or appeal.”

“For my own part, I would not presume to interfere in your decision. I ask only that you accept them as fellow members of the Alliance, and to treat them with the respect and courtesy that entails. Whether they are Jedi or not is a matter for the Jedi alone to decide.”

These words, perhaps more from their phrasing than their sentiment, caused a stirring of confusion and unease amongst the gathered Jedi. Plainly, this was not what anyone had anticipated.

Tyzen couldn’t help himself. Boldly he stepped forward, raising his hand before calling out.

“Master Corellan! Can’t you just claim the authority to decide the issue?”

Corellan smiled at the questioner, a warm look of recognition catching his eyes.

“Tyzen. It’s been a long time.”

The young Zabrak suddenly felt his face flush, put on the spot amongst the assembled Jedi.

“I’m sorry.” Tyzen looked down at his feet, suddenly feeling younger than his years. It felt like he was a padawan again. “I didn’t think you’d remember me.”

He overheard a handful of chuckles as a ripple of amusement passed through the gathering.

Corellan’s calming smile just widened.

“Of course I remember you, Tyzen. I never forget anyone I’ve called a friend.”

He looked around.

“For the record, that same sentiment applies for all of you. Whether I knew you before you came to Odessen or if I’ve only met you today, as of now, I regard each one of you as a friend. With the trust you’ve offered me, I could do no less.”

Corellan’s hand pressed against his own chest.

“Regardless of what is decided today or how the war goes, each of you has done more than enough to lay claim to my friendship just by being here.”

“But Tyzen’s question actually leads me directly to the third subject I wanted to speak to you about.”

Corellan composed himself somberly. He clearly had their full attention.

“I have long believed that people should be judged not by what they call themselves, but rather their actions; for those are a reflection of who they are.” He began.

“In my mind, this is a simple creed. One that has served me well over the years and that has allowed me to achieve many accomplishments.”

“Since I returned to the galaxy, I have made many difficult decisions, and those have led me to this point. I do not regret most of these, but I have given many hours of reflection to my choices. And I’ve come to acknowledge the implications of those choices, both for myself and for my role as a Jedi.”

Tyzen felt a growing sense of anxiety in his belly.

“To that point, concerning own my path as the Commander of the Alliance, there are things that I realize that I must do.” Corellan glanced downward for a moment, then turned back up. “Things that, in good conscience, I’ve realized that I couldn’t perform as a Jedi.”

A faint breeze swept through the gathering.

“For this reason, and before all of you as witnesses, I formally resign as a member of the Jedi Order.”

If Corellan’s earlier statements had drawn a murmur of a response, this one built up a firestorm. Almost everyone started speaking all at once.

The Alliance Commander patiently waited out the storm. Whatever he called himself, however he saw himself, he was more than capable of facing such adversity with a calmness that would have shamed any Jedi Master.

After about a minute, Corellan again raised a forestalling hand, deftly cutting off further questions.

“I understand your concerns. Let me assure you that I have every hope that the Order will reform itself in time. Indeed, I expect that it will. Whatever mistakes may have been made over its history it remains my belief that the Jedi have – on balance – been a force for good. For order and justice, yes, but also for peace.”

That seemed to calm the emotions of the assembled Jedi. Still, they listened on tensely.

“However, it is clear to me that I am not the one to lead such a reformation, even if I possessed the wisdom to perform such a feat. The Alliance, the galaxy and perhaps the Force itself… well, as I have said, they require me to be someone else. Someone I’m already well on my way to becoming.”

“I can promise you all that I will do everything in my power not to pressure any of you into doing anything to compromise your own values.” Corellan paused. “It is the same promise I make to everyone who will join us. But I’ve seen far too many leaders – including more than one Jedi – attempt to force their own beliefs on those who followed them. In my experience, that’s led to hypocrisy at best, disaster at worst.”

Corellan’s hands spread wide again, emphasizing the gathering.

“I will not force my beliefs on anyone else, least of all any of you.” He concluded. “I will ask that people follow me, and the Alliance will have a set a procedures and protocols, but that will be as far as it goes. While I lead it, this Alliance will reflect my values, not be a reflection of any dogma I may follow.”

Master Dazh Ranos stepped forward.

“Master Corellan… Commander… forgive me, but I must ask. Is it possible that… someone else is influencing this decision?”

Tyzen blinked in alarm. He had heard the rumor that some remnant of the Sith Emperor – that evil called Valkorion by the Zakuulans – now resided within the consciousness of his greatest enemy in Corellan Halcyon.

He’d rejected the rumor at the time he’d heard it out of hand, but now he wondered if there wasn’t some truth in it.

Rather than rebuking the suggestion out of hand, Corellan simply smiled patiently.

“I understand your question, Master Ranos. In point of fact, yes. It is certainly possible that that is the case.” He paused. “But no. I assure you that I have meditated on this matter for some time, and I can confidently tell you that this is my choice, alone.”

A green-skinned Twi’lek Jedi Knight named Shiri’ah stepped forward, drawing the commander’s attention.

“Then… you don’t think you’re becoming a Sith?” she asked.

“No.” Corellan shook his head sharply, letting out a slight chuckle. “I can claim more experience in dealing with the Sith than nearly any Jedi living and I can confidently tell you that my own path does not involve embracing the dark side.”

Tyzen remembered watching the Commander fight those Imperial Commandoes on Tython years before, when they had been about to slaughter Tyzen and a room full of young Padawans. The Hero of Tython had fought with an intensity that might have shamed any Sith.

But… it hadn’t been passionate. In hindsight, it had felt almost detached. As if it had been someone else doing it all.

Somehow, Tyzen sensed that Corellan Halcyon might have spoken more but had thought better of it.

Corellan paused, looking around at any of the faces that still met his.

“As I imagine that some of you may have doubts to that, I would be willing to be examined by any or all of you to confirm it.”

A long moment of silence fell over the gathering as no one volunteered. The crowd of Jedi seemed mollified by his words. Tyzen remembered that surge in the Force when Corellan had first made his presence known; he could not reconcile that with the feeling he had experienced from any Dark-Sider – Sith or Zakuulan – he had encountered.

After a few seconds, the Alliance Commander seemed to accept their reaction as tacit assent.

“So to properly answer Tyzen’s question, this is why I cannot weigh in on the subject of Leeha Narezz and Jomar Chul remaining as part of the Order. As I have, in effect, broken with the Order and the Code, it would be a terrible conflict of interest for me to interfere.”

Choza Raabat steepled his fingers together.

“I must ask, Commander, what if one or more of our number breaks from the order as a branch breaks away from a tree?”

Corellan nodded gravely.

“I understand the concern of a potential schism within the Order, Choza. For the record, I sincerely hope it does not come to that. But if a Jedi serving in the Alliance chooses to leave the Order or is dismissed by whatever leadership structure you form amongst yourselves, then that is the business of the Jedi, and not myself or the Alliance leadership.”

“Likewise, if anyone here believes that remaining with the Alliance would compromise their own values, they are free to leave. I would not begrudge them their beliefs.”

He paused, letting the implications sink in.

“As I said before, the Alliance has its own rules that I ask all its members to follow. So long as an individual is willing to abide by those rules, they will have a place here, regardless of what the call themselves.”

Choza Raabat said nothing to this but bowed his head in acknowledgement after a moment.

So it went.

The Alliance Commander spent another thirty minutes patiently answering questions. Some were quite heated. Others were insightful. Regardless, Corellan answered all of them calmly. Gradually, the questions grew less philosophical and more technical. He had clearly been prepared for this as well.

Tyzen could not have imagined Satele Shan or one of the other Masters on Tython giving the ‘rank and file’ that amount of latitude to challenge them. Yet Corellan Halcyon had withstood it all at his own insistence, holding up stoically.

Finally, after seemingly everyone had had their fill, he adjourned the meeting.

“Thank you all again. I hope my answers have brought a sense of purpose, but barring that, I hope I have brought clarity. The purpose of the Alliance is to defeat the Eternal Empire and bring peace to the galaxy, and as far as I am concerned, it always will be.”

“I hope you will choose to stay. More than that, though, I hope you will understand and respect my choices. If not today, then in time.”

He crossed his arm across his chest and bowed at the waist.

“Thank you.”

With that, the meeting ended.

As the Jedi began to make their way down the hill and back towards the base, Corellan remained behind, exchanging a few parting words with individuals, most of whom seemed surprisingly optimistic. Despite the difficulties ahead of the Jedi of the Alliance, not to mention the challenge of facing the Eternal Empire, Tyzen somehow didn’t think any of the Jedi would be leaving the Alliance.

The young Zabrak hoped that he would be joining them, soon.

Both in returning to the base and in embracing their apparent sense of optimism.

But first, there was something he had to do.

Finally, he and Corellan were the last two individuals on the hill.

Corellan turned to Tyzen and smiled.

“Somehow, I knew it would be you.”

Tyzen swallowed, approaching the former Jedi Master.

“I was just wondering if I should quit the Jedi, too.”

The older human blinked down at him in confusion.

“Why would you want to do that?”

Tyzen took a deep breath and then he told Corellan everything.

Everything he’d experienced since they’d last met on Tython. About Denielle. About receiving his Knighthood. About the war against Zakuul. About staying behind and continuing to fight in the shadows while most of the surviving Jedi went into exile. About the dark years that followed.

About his fear that the darkness of the war had changed something inside of him.

About fighting for so long and so hard that Tyzen had started to question whether he was still fit to call himself a Jedi.

Corellan merely listened patiently, letting Tyzen get it all off his chest.

“… so now I don’t know if I should leave the Jedi, too.” He concluded.

Having finished, the young Zabrak was surprised to realize that he’d only been talking for about five minutes.

He’d been certain it would have taken hours to relay all his troubles. That they could be summed up so briefly was startling.

Now finished, the young Jedi Knight looked up at the Alliance Commander, hoping for wisdom and guidance. Corellan Halcyon was quietly going over what the younger Zabrak had told him.

After all, he’d been so helpful to him before, back on Tython.

After a long moment, the former Jedi Master exhaled, then spoke.

“That was an awful lot, Tyzen.” Corellan admitted. “I don’t blame you for having doubts, and I doubt anyone else could either.”

He paused, carefully regarding his younger companion.

“You do understand that I can’t tell you what you should do?” Corellan finally said.

Tyzen felt his shoulders drop in disappointment.

“Are you sure? I was hoping you could tell me what I should do next.”

Corellan chuckled, then padded his shoulder affectionately.

“For me, it was different. I had to break from the Jedi. If I hadn’t… well, I’ve seen what happened to Jedi who didn’t know the difference between following the Jedi path and following their own.”

“I couldn’t let that happen with myself.”

The Commander looked up at the sky.

“If I hadn’t made this choice, I think that the conflict within me, the same conflict that lies within all of us… it would have consumed me. Like it did Revan.”

Tyzen blinked, startled at this revelation. He’d heard stories about Yavin from before the invasion. He couldn’t imagine what that had been like for Corellan, and he certainly didn’t want to ask.

“You think you would have fallen to the dark side?”

Corellan tilted his head in assent, giving a sort of half-nod.

“Or worse.”

He then reached out, grasping the Zabrak’s shoulder again and turning him away from the base. Both the uncertain young Jedi and the older Alliance Commander looked out at the horizon.

“Tyzen, during the war against the Sith, I saw so many Jedi doing terrible things in the name of victory, or of the Order, or of the Republic, or in the name of the Force, itself. All while still claiming to be acting as Jedi.”

He stopped and exhaled, his arm dropping back to his side.

“I can’t do that. I had to break free of it, even knowing how badly that’s gone for so many other Jedi. I need to succeed where they failed, and trust that the people around me will help me stay the course.”

Corellan turned towards him again and regarded Tyzen somberly.

“Truly, I do not expect anyone to follow me down such a path. And I certainly have no intention of asking anyone. As a concept, the ‘Grey Jedi’ seem perfectly reasonable. Even admirable.”

He exhaled.

“As a collective group with a collective belief system? Every iteration has ended in disaster. That’s why so many incarnations of it fail, either due to internal or external pressures.”

“So with the Force as my witness, I assure you I have no intention of starting a schism. The Alliance is already too close to being a cult of personality without me making it any worse.”

Tyzen made a face at that observation uncertainly as Corellan just chuckled at his puzzlement.

“Anyway, you’re too young for these kinds of philosophical conversations.”

The Zabrak bristled.

“I’m almost the same age you were when you beat the Emperor’s Voice on Dromund Kaas.”

Corellan stopped himself and looked downward at the grass, letting out a slow exhale, plainly having realized the truth in Tyzen’s statement.

“Well. So that’s what growing old feels like.” The Alliance Commander smiled wryly to himself.

Tyzen felt his face flush, embarrassed to think he might have offended Corellan.

“I’m sorry. I meant – “

“I know what you meant.” He reached out again and patted Tyzen’s shoulder, calmly. “That’s just something everyone has to get used to, I think.”

He turned back to his young companion.

“So. After all that metaphysical discussion, what is it you’re really asking me?” Corellan pressed. “You can say ‘I am a Jedi’ or ‘I am not a Jedi’, and I won’t try to stop you either way.”

The Zabrak bit his lip.

“I guess I’m asking you… who am I?” Tyzen asked.

Corellan smiled at that.

“Who do you want to be?”

The young Zabrak paused. He knew the answer, he’d known the answer for years, but it was still hard to say. Swallowing, he forced the words out.

“I wanted to be you.” Tyzen finally murmured. “For the longest time, more than anything else in the galaxy. I wanted to be just like you.”

Corellan’s eyes widened, truly startled for the first time that Tyzen could remember.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t recognize that you felt that way back then. If I had, I would have said…” he exhaled then spread his arms apart, as if lost. “Something.”

Tyzen bit his tongue and looked away, not trusting himself to speak. He felt himself start to breathe heavily.

Corellan placed a hand on his shoulder.

“For whatever its worth, I looked up to my heroes, too, Tyzen.” he offered. “Sagottoh Panaka. Nowan Ko Detizu. Orgus Din. Satele Shan.” He paused. “Revan.”

A comfortable silence settled in between them. In the distance, some native bird let out a caw, possibly to signal to its fellows that it had found some fresh kill to scavenge and feed upon.

“Each of my mentors, my heroes… well, they all disappointed me in different ways.” Corellan gazed down at the ground. “It wasn’t their fault, mind you. It’s just that the reality of who they were didn’t quite match my impressions of who they were.”

He shrugged.

“Impressions that might have been fantasies.”

“But I don’t blame them for any of that now. Not anymore, anyway. Our mentors, our heroes, are people, with merits and flaws the same as anyone else.”

“But what’s important was that in the end, I learned from each of them. And with time, I learned to become myself.”

“Now it’s easier in that regard. I’ve learned to respect and appreciate them in a new light. Not as my role-models, but as actual people.”

He stretched his neck. It was a strangely normal thing to do coming from a man who Tyzen regarded as anything but normal.

“Like them, I’m a person. A simple man trying to make his way in the universe. That is all.”

He turned back to Tyzen.

“Did you really think that I would think any less of you? For either going with the others who fled Tython, or finding sanctuary someplace else?”

“I… no.” Tyzen swallowed. He was ashamed. Ashamed for feeling weak. Ashamed for feeling uncertain. “I guess not.”

He looked Corellan Halcyon in the eyes.

“I guess… I was worried that I would think less of myself.”

Corellan nodded in understanding.

“That’s the first lesson. Now here’s the second: After everything you’ve been through, now that you have a chance to breath, have you been true to yourself, Tyzen?” Corellan asked the young Zabrak. “Have you been true to who you want to be?”

Tyzen opened his mouth to answer, then stopped himself. His old Jedi training started to kick in as he chewed over the Alliance Commander’s query, looking within himself for a sense of peace.

He thought about Denielle, and their painful parting.

He thought about every time he’d had to fight his way out of a dangerous situation in the last six years.

He thought about every night he’d spent on a cold street or cave, with a hunger in his belly.

Finally, he thought about the choice of coming to Odessen to join the Alliance.

“I think I have… in the end.” Tyzen finally answered. “It took me awhile, though.”

“Good.” Corellan smiled. “In the long run, you need to be the kind of person you’d respect, even while recognizing your mistakes. Recognizing the good and the bad.”

He looked down towards the base.

“They come from all over.” He mused. “Republic. Empire. Jedi. Sith. Voss. Independents of every stripe. Even Knights of Zakuul, believe it or not. So many differences! And yet… they keep coming.”

Corellan Halcyon smiled faintly. It was a simple gesture that, to Tyzen, radiated hope.

“With the Alliance, I hope to build a place where everyone who joins us can contribute while still being true to themselves.”

He turned his smile onto Tyzen, a look of hope in his pale blue eyes.

“I look forward to meeting the person you are becoming.”

With that, he turned and began his walk back down to the base.

Tyzen watched him depart in silence.

Tyzen could remember that time – in what felt like a lifetime ago – when he had all but worshipped Corellan Halcyon. When he had wanted nothing more than to be the Hero of Tython.

Now, a little older and a little wiser, he didn’t look at this man that way anymore.

But he respected him, perhaps now more than ever. He realized that here was a man who had made his choices and then accepted the consequences.

Tyzen no longer wanted Corellan’s life.

But he could still continue to learn from that life.

He had learned much from being in the shadow of the Hero of Tython.

As he started walking down the hill, he realized that it was now time for Tyzen Pyne to learn how to be himself.

END

Author’s Notes: Parts of this story probably fall under the ‘Unreliable Narrator’ trope. Tyzen isn’t dishonest, but he doesn’t necessarily see everything clearly. I’ll let you judge what parts those might be.

Tyzen, Corellan, Denielle, Karache, Sagottoh, Nowan Ko, Shiri’ah and Ulannium Kaarz are all original characters of mine. All other characters named in this story are actual NPCs from the game, some of whom are rather obscure. (As is my way.) Feel free to ask me about them or look them up yourself on Wookiepedia, if you like. Shiri’ah was previously introduced in my Adas Legacy, but she now gets a supporting role in my Halcyon Legacy.

There are a number of references in the game story to a Jedi purge of sorts carried out by the Eternal Empire during the five-year jump in Knights of the Fallen Empire. It’s a fascinating subject that hasn’t been fully explored.

Any similarities between Tyzen and a certain red-headed Jedi purge survivor from a recent video game franchise are… purely unintentional.

The Corellan Halcyon that appears here is one who saw Jaric Kaedan, Nomen Karr and Jun Seros make terrible, tone-deaf decisions during the Second Great Galactic War.

For the record, spoilers here, Ranos and the other Alliance Jedi decide that it is not their place to expel Leeha and Jomar from the Order. By the time the Alliance makes contact with the Jedi on Ossus, no one thinks it’s worth the trouble.

Liam Dentiri, a quest-giver on Tython and a boss in the Assault on Tython Flashpoint, was killed in my canon by Xadya, my bounty hunter in the Halcyon Legacy. Since Xadya would also go on to join the Eternal Alliance, Tyzen may find himself challenged in ways he couldn’t have imagined.

I’d like to incorporate Tyzen into some future stories, though maybe not as a featured character.

I watched a lot of history documentaries during the pandemic and a few of them involved religious schisms throughout history. I found them both fascinating and somewhat depressing. (Spoilers: When it comes to religion, there are no “good guys”. Just times when one group might be worse than another.) But it got me thinking about the “Grey Jedi” in Star Wars, who are incredibly popular in the fandom, but always seem to come up short.

I still like the character of Bela Kiwiiks from the Jedi Knight story. I don’t know how many of you ever read the Star Wars: Dark Times comic series from Dark Horse, but her situation in my story is rather similar to Master K'Kruhk’s in that tale. It is well established that the Jedi don’t put all their eggs “in one basket” when it comes to their Padawans and younglings, as they have many enclaves all over the galaxy. Kiwiiks was returning a group of younglings from such an enclave to Tython when she was cutoff by the Eternal Fleet. Deciding that the younglings needed her more than the Ossus Jedi would, she took her charges into hiding, much as K’kruhk does during the time of the Galactic Empire.

Karache’s line to Tyzen is a reference Han’s line on Yavin to Luke in Episode IV. Naturally, Corellan later delivers a line to Tyzen that was directly pulled from Jango Fett in Episode II. I love my little Easter Eggs.

Corellan’s outfit during the events of this chapter is known as the “Ruthless Scion Armor Set” from the Cartel Market. He would later change it again, but this is what he wore for most of Knights of the Fallen Empire and Knights of the Eternal Throne expansions.

I was originally going to mention Ashara Zavros in this piece, but the tangent that summoned got out of hand.

Although I wasn’t reading the Expanded Universe novels at the time, Luke’s speech to the Jedi Order in Dark Nest III: The Swarm War always resonated with me. It’s important for one’s followers to know where their leader stands, and Corellan is attempting to do the same here. (Though obviously, Corellan takes a very different approach.)

Thank you for reading, and may the Force be with you.

Tagging!

@distressed-gizka @rikki-roses @eorzeashan @grandninjamasterren @space-unicorn-dot @mysterious-cuchulainn-x @iacyper9 @sullustangin @stars-ephemeral @taina-eny @brainmonkeyscartwheeling-blog @nebulis-ceartais @raven-of-domain-kwaadthe-raven-of-highever @nekorinnie @fandomfangirl23 @abbee-normal

#swtor fanfiction #swtorpadawan writes #code breakers #oc: tyzen pyne #oc: corellan halcyon #in the shadow of the hero #my writing #swtor #swtor fanfic #odessen #the eternal alliance #oc: denielle #the halcyon legacy #writers on tumblr #writeblr

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swtorpadawan · 2 years ago

Text

Invincible

Author’s Notes: The following story takes place on Yavin during the Shadow of Revan storyline in my Halcyon Legacy. CW for violence, original character deaths, and brief blood and gore. Also – this is a rather long one, folks. My apologies.

“Dammit! We’re being driven back.”

Theron Shan’s face glowered in consternation as icons representing various Yavin Coalition military units shifted across the holo-map, many of them retreating while a few flickered out entirely.

The Revanite counterattack against the Coalition forces here on Yavin IV had come suddenly, besieging Republic and Imperial troops alike across a wide front. Within minutes, many of their forward positions were isolated if not overwhelmed, while the remaining defensive hardpoints were pinned down, unable to support other troops when they needed it the most. All coordination and communication between the reluctant allies had seemingly gone out the window in the wake of the assault, and the cybernetic communications relay in his ear was being bombarded with requests – pleas, really – for reinforcements, for support, for orders, for any help whatsoever.

Standing around the makeshift conference table at Coalition headquarters, the other members of the ah-hoc ‘leadership council’ – Lana Beniko, Satele Shan and Darth Marr – were likewise intently reviewing holo-transmissions and reports as they came in. Beniko’s expression was one of focused and controlled anger. That was the kind of personal discipline that made her such an effective Sith. Satele (Theron was trying very hard not to think of her as his mother at this moment) watched over the proceedings with a frown of contemplation. Until she saw the necessity to interject herself, she would keep her peace. Marr… well, Theron obviously couldn’t see the expression of the Dark Councilor’s face behind his metal mask, but Marr radiated intensity under normal circumstances. Right at this moment, with all their plans at risk and the campaign itself in doubt, the closest thing the Sith Empire had to an actual leader was positively seething.

None of them had bothered to respond to Theron’s dire assessment of the situation.

The unprecedented Yavin Coalition composed of the Imperial troops commanded by Marr and the Galactic Republic forces led by Satele had successfully invaded the moon known as Yavin IV and – up until just a few minutes ago – had appeared to be on the verge of victory, pushing the remnants of the Order of Revan back until they were almost at the base of the ancient, pyramid-like temples for which Yavin was infamous. Some of the forward Republic recon troops had even reported they’d been facing greater resistance from the indigenous Massassi warriors than they had from the Revanites.

Now the Coalition forces had been caught overextended, with the Revanites driving a wedge between the Republic and Imperial forces. It seemed almost everyone was calling for reinforcements, air support, resupply, orders… the command headquarters couldn’t cope with it all.

“Isolate the problem.” Satele Shan’s voice was carefully measured as she broke her silence. She may have just as well been presenting a logic problem to a group of Jedi younglings in a classroom back on Tython for all the alarm she demonstrated. “Revan is attempting to distract and overwhelm us. Otherwise, his attack would have been much more precise. If we can look past his maneuverings and identify his true strategy, we’ll be able to understand his intentions.”

As if on mental reflex, Theron realized that she was right. He recalled Master Zho teaching him that same technique so long ago in his childhood, and he strongly suspected that Zho had been the one to demonstrate the same stratagem to Satele once upon a time in the Grand Master’s own youth. (Though he had a very hard time imagining Satele ever being a youngling.) Coalition command had been thrown off its game. Junior officers of both factions were scrambling around the conference table with the communications aides urgently relaying messages and reports. Just outside field commanders were yelling for their troops to form up and prepare for deployment as soon as the orders came down. The sound of artillery fire could be heard in the distance…

These factors were all just distractions.

Theron had always preferred being a field agent over being an analyst. Indeed, he’d been more than a little rankled when Marcus Trant, the Director of the Republic’s Strategic Information Service, had temporarily placed him on desk duty as a punishment for one of his “unsanctioned operations”. (Alright, it had been several “unsanctioned operations”.) But that inclination didn’t make him any less effective at analyzing tactical information. Utilizing his cybernetic implants, he crunched the numbers, trying to make sense out of all the chaos. Finding his center. His sense of calm…

Time seemed to slow down for Theron. As he looked down at the map, he didn’t see soldiers fighting and dying or the Coalition at risk of collapsing. Instead, he saw a clearer picture start to take shape.

After a moment of contemplation, it became obvious to Theron that the Revanites’ numbers were not as impressive as the ferocity of their attack would seem to suggest. Nor was their counter-offensive as broad as it had initially seemed on the map. Yes, the Coalition flanks were being pressured, but only half-heartedly, as if to discourage reinforcement or encirclement of the main thrusts by the Order. The allies still enjoyed a significant overall advantage in force strength by better than a two-to-one margin; maybe even more. But that advantage had been neutralized by the Revanites’ rapid advancement…

“There.” The crisp, Imperial voice interrupted his thought process.

Much to Theron’s chagrin, Lana Beniko, the former chief aide to the Minister of Military Offense of the Sith Empire (and his erstwhile partner for the last few months in exposing the Revanite conspiracy), had found the solution first.

Beniko re-oriented the holo-map, zeroing in on one particularly deep thrust into the Coalition lines. The display flickered as live holo-streaming of the scene quickly followed the three-dimensional image, projected above the map.

“This is the tip of their spear.” She explained, as they watched the small group of Revanites effortlessly tear through a platoon of Republic soldiers. The assailants appeared to be cyborgs… led by a single armored Sith Lord. “Their vanguard. It’s the lynchpin to their attack. Their momentum is keeping us hamstrung.”

Theron immediately recognized the design of the cyborgs from their mission to Rakata Prime months earlier. Infinite Elites. Revanite volunteers surgically enhanced with Rakatan technology in a process developed by Gorima – a sick, twisted Selkath scientist who’d been operating a secret laboratory on Manaan, the same creep who had briefly tormented their ally, Jakarro, the Wookie smuggler. These cyborgs were incredibly powerful, with their advanced, regenerative capabilities allowing them to shrug off most attacks. Revan had intended to build an entire army of the Infinites, using them as his shock troops. They’d proven to be so dangerous that Theron had even wanted Jedi Master Corellan Halcyon, their ally against the conspirators, to terminate the Infinites they’d found on Rakata in their stasis pods out of hand. (Corellan had refused. Typical Jedi nobility. With hindsight, Theron shouldn’t have been surprised.) Regardless, he’d been relieved when their efforts on Manaan and Rakata had resulted in the destruction of the completed Infinite prototypes, as well as the technology required to create more of them.

Apparently, that sense of relief had been premature.

There may have only been a squad of them, but these Infinites were nevertheless hammering through their formations like a juggernaut, the thin end of the Revanite wedge driving into the Coalition lines.

“Revan must have gotten them off Rakata before we moved in on them.” Theron heard the frustration in his own voice even as he silently called in an air strike via his implant. “He planned this. Keeping them in reserve until now.”

Seconds later, the quartet around the table watched as a squadron of Republic dive-bombers unleashed their payloads upon the advancing squad of Revanites. As the holoprojection flickered to adjust to the smoke and fire, Theron witnessed a Jedi and a Sith leading Coalition commandos into the area. The intelligence agent briefly allowed himself to hope that this strike had finished off the Infinites and would blunt Revan’s entire counter-offensive.

That hope quickly evaporated as he saw the massive Sith Lord who had been leading the Infinites rise to his feet, activating his twin crimson lightsabers. Theron had not initially identified this foe beneath his strange, ornate armor, but now, on closer inspection, he realized that he recognized this mighty Sith Pureblood.

Indeed, nearly everyone in the entire galaxy should have recognized him by now.

“Kael.” Marr hissed behind his mask, the Dark Councilor’s voice was dripping with venom and contempt.

Lord Kael Nosrol Krannus was a towering Pureblooded Sith Warrior of great renown. Over the course of his relatively brief but infamous career, he had led countless operations against the Republic, from crushing the War Trust on Taris to freeing the Dread Masters on Belsavis. Dozens of Jedi and thousands of Republic soldiers and civilians had fallen beneath his blades, including wiping out at least one Strategic Information Service team at a safehouse on Nar Shaddaa. According to the intelligence reports Theron had read, he was wanted for a long series of war crimes and had gained a reputation for brutality even by the standards of the Sith. But it had been on Corellia where his ruthless butchery against his enemies had earned him a new epithet: The Emperor’s Wrath. He had become Vitiate’s chosen, hand-picked to eliminate the Emperor’s enemies both in the Republic and within the Empire. Although the Sith Lord had never formally been named a Darth, anyone would have been foolish to think him any less deadly for that lack of title. Indeed, he had already crushed several of the most powerful Darths in the Empire for apparent disloyalty to the throne, even slaying his old master, Darth Baras. He’d thus cemented his claim as the Emperor’s Wrath before going on to lead Imperial troops on Ilum and beyond.

There had been no reported sightings of Krannus in almost a year, not since he had supposedly broken with the Dark Council and the entire Imperial hierarchy. Locating him had been a priority of the SIS for some time.

Right at this moment, Theron sorely wished that the Emperor’s Wrath had remained missing.

He watched as the Sith Lord stormed through the Coalition commandoes, ignoring multiple blaster shots to his body mere moments after shrugging off the aerial bombardment.

The Coalition Jedi and Sith attempted to divide Krannus’ attention, attacking him from opposite flanks; the Twi’lek Jedi on his right with his lightsaber and the human Sith Lord on his left with Force lightning. For a moment, Theron thought they might have succeeded when the Jedi’s blade caught Lord Kael’s armor squarely on the shoulder while just missing his helmet – a blow that should have all but severed his arm – while the Sith’s lightning blasted at his armored torso.

Impossibly, the massive Pureblood shrugged off these lethal assaults and then, in a single move displaying more agility than should have been possible for a man of his size, simultaneously impaled both of his opponents, one lightsaber sinking into the chest of each.

Just like that, the effort to stop Lord Kael and the Infinites had been snuffed out, the few the surviving commandoes quickly overwhelmed by the Infinites.

Theron grimaced. Not even Mandalorian beskar should have protected the Sith Lord so completely from the kind of punishment Krannus had taken, and he wasn’t even slowed down.

As a stunned silence settled around the table, Theron remembered that the Coalition had already definitively ruled out any orbital strikes from the fleets above. The main temple held by the Revanites was protected by a force field for one thing, and for another they’d decided that the risk of friendly fire falling on their own forces was too great. (Though Marr, of course, hadn’t been thrilled with that decision, given the stakes in play.) That danger was even greater now with the Infinites driving so far into the Coalition lines. There was nothing else he could think of in the Coalition’s arsenal that could have stopped Krannus.

“Please magnify on his armor.” The firm, unexpected voice cut through the silence.

It was only then, as he looked up at the speaker, that Theron realized there was a fifth individual watching the display above the holo-table. Jedi Master Corellan Halcyon looked like he had just fought through Hell itself while simultaneously looking resolute enough to invade it for a second time at a moment’s notice. The Jedi’s robes were singed at the edges and his armor was lightly scorched though undamaged. His expression, normally healthy and open, was darker and grimmer than Theron had ever seen before with bags under his eyes and a pallid complexion.

He doesn’t look good. Theron thought to himself. But one could not have told that from his posture or from the clarity of his voice.

This was the champion who had taken down the Emperor’s Voice on Dromund Kaas. Who had spear-headed the raid on Korriban and then mere hours later had liberated the Jedi Temple on Tython. The one person who Theron and Lana had trusted when they’d gone on the run after they’d been framed for killing Darth Arkous and Colonel Rian Darok on Rakata Prime. On Rishi, he’d defeated Nova Blade pirates, Mandalorian bounty hunters and Revanite conspirators in quick succession without seeming to break a sweat, inflicting more damage in a few days than Lana and Theron might have managed in months.

Since the joint task force had arrived on Yavin three days ago, Halcyon had been even more impressive. His reputation alone demanded respect from friend and foe alike. Every time a trouble spot emerged, every time it appeared bad feelings over decades of war might drive a wedge between the reluctant allies, Corellan had personally intervened, acting decisively yet amicably, putting out fires before the leadership council even knew about them and showing a mutual respect that puzzled the Sith, impressed the Imperials and inspired the Jedi and Republic troops to put their differences with their allies aside and behave themselves. If the Hero of Tython – who’d probably fought and killed more Imperials in combat – Sith and otherwise – in his relatively young life than anyone else still breathing (aside, perhaps, from Satele Shan herself) had made no objection to fighting alongside the Empire, hardly anyone else could either, given the circumstances. He hadn’t started this campaign with a reputation as a diplomat, but he definitely seemed to be building one for himself, albeit unintentionally.

His entire demeanor seemed to have changed since coming to Yavin. At first, Theron wanted to think it was just the proximity of so many Sith. Then he wondered if it might have been that their target was Revan, a figure who was almost mythical in the tales of both the Jedi and the Sith. Heck, Corellan, like Theron, had probably grown-up hearing bedtime stories about the legendary fallen Jedi.

But now, Theron was starting to fear that it was the presence of the Sith Emperor here on Yavin. The same tyrant who’d captured Corellan and his crew at his Fortress years before, imprisoning them for months. The same cancer who was, if reports were to be believed, responsible for much of the suffering the galaxy had experienced dating back to the Mandalorian Wars.

The same enemy who Corellan – and the entire Republic – had hoped had been permanently destroy during the attack on Dromund Kaas.

All this has to have taken its toll. The SIS agent privately suspected. It was rumored that Halcyon hadn’t been sleeping; simply meditating for an hour or two at a time before pressing on with whatever needed to be done. He’d rotated his crewmembers regularly to keep them fresh, then had headed off on another mission. Each time, he’d check in with the temporary command center at the base camp, reporting on details he had observed that might have been missed through the various chains of command.

He also hadn’t shied away from putting his own crew at risk when necessary. Yesterday, he’d designated his loyal astromech droid, Teeseven, to oversee the advance sensor array they’d set up, thus keeping the Coalition’s monitoring system impartial. Later he’d ordered Sergeant Rusk to take temporary command of a company of Republic troops who had lost their commanding officer during the fighting. The veteran Chagrian soldier had quickly whipped that demoralized unit into shape, and even now they were successfully holding one of the critical defensive positions along the Coalition’s lines despite the Revanite assault. And just minutes ago as the attacks had begun, Corellan had assigned his squad medic, Doctor Archiban Kimble – or ‘Doc’ to anyone who asked – to treat wounded Imperial soldiers who’d been cut-off from their recovery camps. The Imperial officer on site had sworn an oath that no harm would come to Doc, and that he would be returned safely to the Jedi Master afterward.

Satele and Marr had provided the leadership and legitimacy. Theron and Lana had delivered the expertise and intelligence on the Revanites and how they operated. But it had been Halcyon, with the aid of his crew, who had brought a sense of unity to the Coalition.

Theron had worked with Corellan Halcyon off and on for more than two years now, ever since enlisting the Jedi Master in a couple of off-the-book operations to deal with problems the SIS would have preferred to remain under wraps rather than address through “official” channels. He was a bona fide hero. A paragon, even. The best Jedi warrior of his generation. A champion of the Republic and the protector of the free galaxy. Honestly, he was exactly what most Jedi younglings grew up wanting to be. The guy the Republic military put on their recruitment posters.

Since they’d arrived on Yavin, Theron had learned that beneath that surface, Corellan Halcyon also possessed a keen tactical mind. One that understood full well the strategies employed by Sith and Jedi, Empire and Republic.

By now, Halcyon had become extremely effective at combating the Revanites, regardless of which faction they’d previously worked for. Their enemies might all claim to serve Revan, but it had been proven on Rishi and now again on Yavin that they weren’t all ‘one big, happy family’. The Order of Revan desperately needed symbols to rally around; specifically, they needed the symbol of Revan himself.

That was the kind of unifying symbol that Halcyon was providing to the Coalition.

And it was now apparent to Theron that the Jedi Master was proving surprisingly adept at approaching people undetected. Even where it concerned dealing with allies.

Even when dealing with Force users as potent as Darth Marr and Satele Shan.

Theron usually prided himself on maintaining a good sabacc face. After all, he was an SIS agent. That sort of went with the territory. But he had no doubt he looked startled right at this moment. Lana had also blinked in surprise at the unexpected arrival. Marr’s face was concealed by his mask, but even his head tilted up in surprise as Corellan’s voice cut through the room.

Only Satele seemed nonplussed at the Jedi Master’s sudden appearance, simply accepting it in stride. If the Grand Master was concerned with Corellan’s behavior or physical appearance of late, she had clearly decided not to reveal that in front of the Sith. She nodded in Theron’s direction, who was only now reminded that he was the one at the terminal controls.

The Republic operative swallowed, increasing the magnification on Krannus’ armor as requested. Some of the resolution was a bit hazy – that often happened when transmissions were broadcasting during a battle with portable surveillance equipment – but the distinct pattern across Krannus’ body eventually became clear. The bulbous pieces looked strange to Theron, who was familiar with a great many body armors commonly used throughout the galaxy by soldiers, mercenaries and Force-users.

“I don’t recognize that design.” He admitted.

“Nor do I.” Lana admitted, who looked over towards Marr and Satele, questioningly.

The Jedi Grand Master was once again in silent contemplation, as if the answer to the problem was hiding right in front of her but would only reveal itself in time.

Officially, Darth Marr was the head of the Sith Empire’s Sphere of Military Strategy and was the second-longest tenured active member of the Dark Council. Unofficially, Marr was effectively running the Empire at this point, having bent the Council to his will. Analysts in the SIS had been taking bets on how long it would be before Marr formally declared himself the new Emperor.

Theron hadn’t taken that action on the bet. Marr knew what had happened to Darth Malgus on Ilum when he’d tried to claim Vitiate’s throne and establish a “New Empire”. Even when it came to Vitiate himself, who’d ruled the Empire for more than a millennium, the facade of invincibility that once came with that position had been shattered. As an institution, the Sith Empire only operated properly when everyone was too frightened of the Emperor to challenge him, or to risk compromising his goals with the internal squabbles. The title of Emperor must have looked much less attractive considering the present political climate, where any Sith who claimed supremacy risked being pulled down and destroyed by his fellows.

Theron suspected that Marr was playing a much different game.

Regardless, he also had to assume that Marr had more practical knowledge than just about anyone else living concerning the multitude of exotic weaponry of the Sith. And he was being silent.

That silence worried Theron intensely. With all the other surprises the Revanites had thrown at them over the last few months, the last thing they needed was mysterious Sith armor that seemingly made one of the most dangerous Sith Lords living invincible.

As he tried to analyze the armor for weaknesses, he could only consider it an effort in futility.

“Honestly, it doesn’t look like armor at all. It looks more like… shells.” He added, grasping for any observations.

With Krannus leading them, the Infinites couldn’t be stopped. With the Infinites leading the Revanite assault and driving a wedge into the Coalition lines, their entire offensive couldn’t be stopped.

Invincible, indeed.

“Orbalisks.” Corellan’s calm, matter-of-fact voice cut through the silence once again.

Theron turned to look over at him again. The Jedi Master was looking down at the projection in what he could only describe as ‘intense detachment’ as the magnification moved out again. In the projection, Lord Kael had Force-leapt onto an attacking Imperial Walker, knocking the towering machine over before eviscerating its driver with his lightsabers for good measure.

Theron was realizing no one else had responded to Corellan yet. He had no idea what an ‘orbalisk’ even was and no one else seemed to be stepping up either. In the absence of any elaboration, Lana took the lead this time, her brow furrowed intently as she addressed the Jedi champion.

“Do you know how we can stop him?”

Corellan Halcyon turned away from the display and towards Lana. The two of them had – along with Theron – developed a surprisingly strong working relationship these last few months. They had made a good team, regardless of their personal, political and ideological differences. (And Lana allowing the Revanites to abduct and torture Theron. That had been a bump in the road.) This question undercut a reversal of roles; usually, it was Corellan relying on Lana and Theron for information, direction or analysis.

But here in this instance on Yavin, the people standing around the table were relying on the young Jedi Master for his knowledgeable insight.

“We can’t.” Corellan answered firmly, gently stressing the first word. “But I will need some help.”

That wasn’t lost on Theron. The Hero of Tython clearly had something specific in mind. Something he intended to personally put into motion.

Corellan had followed Lana and Theron’s lead on Manaan, Rakata and Rishi, and he had likewise acknowledged the authority of Satele and Marr as leaders of the leadership council assembled here on Yavin.

But now, he was calling his own play.

We’ve underestimated him. Theron considered. All of us.

The Hero of Tython raised his arm to chest level, tapping the communicator on his wrist.

“Kira. We’re up. Maneuverer Alderaan-Delta-Three.” He paused, checking his chrono and apparently doing some quick calculations in his head. “Eleven minutes.”

“On it.” a familiar, feminine voice answered. Corellan closed the channel just as quickly.

Since they’d started working together, Theron had long come to understand that Corellan usually only operated with one of his companions by his side at any given time. He had always assumed there was some method behind his choice; a specific companion for a specific kind of mission. That would make good strategic sense, though the particulars in Corellan’s thought process usually escaped him.

Theron had met Kira Carsen several times. First on that Corellian rescue job almost two years ago, then more recently at Carrick Station before the assault on Korriban. He liked her. Frankly, she was probably the most outgoing Jedi he’d ever met and she was genuinely funny. (Granted, her jokes directed at Theron about being ‘Satele’s kid’ had grated on him, but he could deal with that.) Her combat record was proof that she was fantastic with a lightsaber, too. He’d been rather surprised that he hadn’t seen her working beside Corellan lately. He knew that she’d been by his side earlier on Rishi but when Corellan had first arrived at the safehouse Theron shared with Lana and Jakarro, Rusk had been accompanying him. Later, he’d seen Teeseven and Doc at his side as well. He’d found it curious at the time, idly wondering if the two Jedi were ‘on the outs’ somehow.

Whatever Corellan had in mind – whatever ‘Maneuverer Alderaan-Delta-Three’ even meant – he’d clearly decided he needed Kira with him to execute his plan.

The Jedi turned towards Theron and Lana.

“Set a timer.” He requested. “I need every bomber we can get in the air to hit Kael and the Infinites in exactly ten minutes in successive waves. Then pull them off after 30 seconds.”

Theron set the timer on reflex, then checked the data. The Infinites had advanced well past the range of the remaining Revanite anti-air flak cannons. At the speed they were moving at now, it would be a tricky target; even fighter-bombers usually weren’t designed to hit a target as small as a single squad. But he could predict their movement speed and relay those coordinates to the pilots.

“We can do that.” Theron offered. “But you just saw that it won’t keep them down for long.”

Corellan looked down at the SIS agent intently. For a second, Theron thought he might have seen a hint of a grim smile on the Jedi’s lips.

“I don’t need it to keep them down for long.”

Without another word, he turned and headed towards the exit.

“I’m ending this battle.” He spoke as he walked away from the table intently, never breaking stride or even looking back over his shoulder. “Now.”

Theron blinked as the Jedi Master departed, then turned back and looked at the others.

Lana seemed uncertain. Satele looked concerned but continued to keep her silence. Marr… Marr just continued to watch the passageway where Corellan had exited, as if trying to decide something. Theron now realized that Corellan hadn’t even asked Satele or Marr – the Coalition’s nominal leaders – for approval of his plan.

Without anyone needing to say anything, Theron relayed the orders.

Kira Carsen was more than ready to go when she’d gotten the call.

Three days of barely seeing any action back on the ship while a massive battle waged around her had admittedly left her antsy.

Corellan would have known that, and she knew he wouldn’t have held her back this long without a good reason.

She’d also barely seen him since they’d arrived on Yavin. He would have known how that would make her feel, too. She knew he wouldn’t do that to her if it could have been helped.

(It also didn’t help that they could both feel the Emperor’s presence here on Yavin. Deep down, she’d always known he hadn’t been completely destroyed on Dromund Kaas. But feeling him this close still put her on edge.)

These were their lives: They meant everything to each other, but the needs of the rest of the galaxy would always come first.

Kira knew that. She understood it. She even accepted it.

That didn’t mean she had to like it.

Still, she’d been monitoring the situation carefully. Kira had been in enough battles to know that this one was rapidly approaching its climax: the fight between the Revanites and the Coalition would be decided over the next few minutes.

And in this crucial moment, Corellan Halcyon, the vaunted Hero of Tython, had called her. She’d never admit it to anyone, but that meant something.

(It meant everything.)

Kira didn’t know if she’d ever be a Jedi Master. That goal had once been a driving ambition for her; something to solidify her sense of acceptance within the Order. To give herself that reinforced sense of belonging that she’d been seeking for most of her life. Maybe she’d even have been able to stir things up with some much-needed policy reforms. But the last few years – spent with Corellan and their crew – had eventually led her to reconsider her career goals.

She was happy with who she was. And with where she was in her life.

For example, Kira couldn’t imagine there were many Jedi Knights who could outfight her in a one-on-one lightsaber duel at this point. After all, Kira had been the one who’d struck the killing blow against Darth Nox on Tython, one of the most feared Sith in the galaxy and a particularly infamous member of the Dark Council.

But Corellan was the most driven lightsaber duelist she’d ever met. He was up before dawn most mornings (long before Kira usually rose), sparring with Scourge for an hour before even showering and sitting down for breakfast. Then, if they didn’t have a mission that day to keep him occupied, he’d spar with Kira in the early evening, working them both almost to exhaustion.

He was dedicated.

(And if Kira had ever felt overshadowed by her partner, he’d more than made it up to her during their nights alone together. Lightsaber training wasn’t the only thing he was dedicated to.)

And he did his homework, too. There probably wasn’t a holocron or text on lightsaber combat in the Jedi Archives that he hadn’t borrowed for review at least once.

But as valuable as those had been, they couldn’t begin to compete with the knowledge provided by the individual who lived in their cargo bay.

For someone like Corellan Halcyon, training with someone like Scourge was more valuable than a dozen holocrons. The former Emperor’s Wrath had spent three hundred years hunting and slaying the Emperor’s enemies, effectively becoming a ‘boogey-man’ within the Sith Empire. Kira thought it was ironic that most of those ‘enemies’ had been Scourge’s fellow Sith. (After all, up until these last few years, the Emperor had had little to fear from the Jedi, himself.) He’d taught Corellan dozens of techniques that would aid him in facing and defeating his enemies.

In the years since Dromund Kaas, Corellan’s reputation among the Sith and Imperials had only reached new heights. Even most Mandalorians refused to accept contracts on him anymore; not since his meeting with Xadya on Makeb.

Kira hadn’t listened to every lesson Scourge had taught Corellan about ancient Sith weapons and rituals, but she’d gotten the gist of what orbalisks were. (And frankly, the things sounded incredibly disgusting to her. As neat a trick as it sounded, invincibility would not be worth having those nasty bugs all over her body and digging into her skin.) According to Scourge, Vitiate had destroyed all known records of the blasted creatures decades ago. Not because he feared they could make a rival Sith powerful enough to face him; Kira’s ‘father’ was apparently far above such physical concerns. No, it was more to discourage any ‘fools with delusions of grandeur’ who managed to master the Dxunian creatures from even attempting such an act.

And Corellan being Corellan, he’d put in more than a little thought into how to counter an enemy employing the parasites should the need ever arise.

Kira supposed she owed the ‘Big Tomato’ a ‘Thank you’ for that kind of help.

The culture of their ship facilitated this kind of thinking. Hundreds of hours of training amongst their crew had led to the creation of dozens of combination maneuvers for various contingencies. Alderaan-Delta-Three was one such combination. With Scourge’s assistance; Kira and Corellan had trained for it in parts, but they’d never actually had the chance to use the whole thing in a real fight.

To Kira, that uncertainty made this job even more exciting.

Also, she’d get to bring her speeder-bike. Things were always more fun when they involved speeder-bikes, in Kira’s opinion. It would be a pity to lose this one; she’d spent months customizing it just the way she liked. Force, it was even purple.

But if this worked, then it would be worth it.

Both for the thrill of the thing, and to win this battle.

The sooner they got off this rock, the sooner she and Corellan could get some alone time together.

Theron knew that lightsaber enthusiasts and gamblers alike had been debating for years who would win in direct confrontation between the Hero of Tython and the reigning Emperor’s Wrath, and for good reason. The two champions of their respective factions were contemporaries: Corellan Halcyon and Kael Nosrol Krannus were near enough the same age with vaguely similar ‘career tracks’. Both were practitioners of Jar’khai, wielding a single-bladed lightsaber in each hand at once to devastating effect. Both had incredible combat records and a plethora of accomplishments, any one of which would have granted any warrior legendary status in the wider galaxy. Both had seen action at many of the same flashpoints that had defined the current conflict for the last few years.

Taris. Balmorra. Belsavis. However many others.

Frankly, it was a wonder that the two adversaries, these titans of the age, hadn’t met in battle before now.

Between the two of them, four consecutive Sith Lords at the head of the Empire’s Sphere of Military Offense - Vengean, Baras, Arho and most recently Arkous – had met their ends; the first two by Krannus and the latter two at the blades of Halcyon.

(Theron had heard that the entire ministry had recently been placed under Marr’s “temporary” stewardship, since Arkous’ death on Rakata Prime. If Theron had been Marr, who’d spent decades as the head of the Empire’s Sphere of Military Defense, he wouldn’t have been in a hurry to formally claim that position any more than he apparently wanted to claim the title of Emperor.)

Nor was that the end of the parallels of their journeys. Corellan had reportedly slain Lord Kael’s brother on Belsavis. The Imperial Executor – a fanatically-loyal servant of the Sith Emperor’s will – had attempted to destroy the prison world to further Vitiate’s plans for a ritual that could have destroyed the galaxy.

(Just thinking about that report had boggled Theron’s mind. He was, after all, just a spy. Situations like this still felt like they were way above his pay grade.)

From what Theron had heard, Kael had been – if anything – even more loyal to the Emperor than his brother had been.

But now, seemingly in a complete reversal, the surviving Krannus had taken up with the Order of Revan. Conspirators who fanatically opposed the Emperor’s return to the point where most had turned their backs on everything they’d ever known, to ally with a fallen Jedi who’d gone missing for centuries.

What could have prompted such an astronomical shift in allegiance for the Sith Lord?

And now, after all of that, he was finally facing Corellan Halcyon.

Theron had it on excellent authority that Nar Shaddaa bookmakers had a massive betting pool of several million credits going of what would happen when the two finally met, with odds swinging back and forth between one or the other.

The intelligence operative couldn’t deny that as the fighters began their bombardment of Krannus and his Infinites and the seconds ticked down to whatever Corellan was planning, he felt a surge of adrenaline within him despite the circumstances. As he looked around the table above the holo-map, he could feel that the others were intrigued as well.

There.

Within seconds of the barrage beginning, an icon representing a speeder bike appeared, tearing across the map, skillfully dodging stray blaster fire along the battlefield. The Coalition had been employing a handful of the machines, mostly for transporting portable equipment and relaying messages and orders that couldn’t be safely transmitted. This, however… this wasn’t one of those efficient, practical, military vehicles. Based on the specs of the data-stream, Theron recognized this one as an Aratech Coral speeder, a high-end civilian bike designed for style and mobility as well as speed.

As the holoprojection focused on the speeder, Theron noted the two figures were mounted in the pilot’s seat, a smaller figure – with short red hair, he noted – driving the vehicle while their companion, larger, wearing Jedi robes and armor, had their arms wrapped around the driver’s waist.

Just before the bike crashed into the Infinites, the two Jedi leapt off.

The resulting explosion made the holo-display flicker as it knocked Krannus and his squad down yet again. Everything within ten meters of the point of impact was suddenly immersed in flames, the wild grass on the ground briefly catching fire before just as quickly burning out. Theron only now realized the speeder must have been rigged with incendiary explosives. As Corellan and Kira landed unscathed, their lightsabers lashed out at their fallen enemies.

Theron was starting to understand the broad details of their tactical plan. The Infinites were normally all but indestructible; but as Corellan had proven on Manaan, exposing them to extreme flames could briefly leave them vulnerable to direct attacks.

Including attacks made with lightsabers.

As Kira continued to finish off the stunned Infinites, Corellan turned his attention to Lord Kael, who suddenly found himself alone and isolated. The Pureblooded Sith had risen to his feet and now plainly recognized his opponent.

The Jedi Sentinel squared off against the Sith Marauder, with the fate of Yavin, the Order of Revan, and perhaps the whole galaxy on the line.

The Hero of Tython versus the Emperor’s Wrath.

As their blades met, Theron was tempted to ask for popcorn.

Kira’s lightsaber impaled the last Infinite before it could rise, finally snuffing the last of them out for good.

For a fraction of a second, she wondered who this person had been before their transformation. Did they have a life? Did they have a family? Did they fall for some bill of goods the Order of Revan had sold them to get them to volunteer for this insane procedure?

Would they regret that their lives had come to this?

She was reminded of Agent Galen, who’d worked with Kira and Corellan on Coruscant and later again on Nar Shaddaa during the Desolator Crisis. The SIS agent had been abducted by Lord Sadic, and then horrifically transformed against his will into an Imperial-aligned Power Guard cyborg. Thanks to the Jedi duo, the Republic operative had broken free of the Sith’s control and had found peace with his lot. Kira heard months later that Galen had eventually met his end while serving on an SIS mission, but he did so on his own terms, doing something that mattered to him.

Kira took some comfort from that memory as she steeled herself and turned to join the main event.

The duel before her was incredible.

Kael Nosrol Krannus was using Form VII to deliver ferocious blows from both his sabers without restraint. The powerful Sith Lord was considered by many to be the master of using Juyo with twin lightsabers. Corellan was, for his part, seamlessly alternating between stances: employing Form Three – Soresu – to deflect Krannus’ attacks before switching to the powerful strikes of Form Five – Shien – to press him back; precision and grace one moment, decisive strength in the next.

The Jedi’s approach was slowly starting to frustrate Lord Kael, who – to no one’s surprise – was responding with overwhelming rage. His only rival for the title of ‘mightiest warrior in the galaxy’ had finally engaged him in battle and that challenger had already taken the early advantage by eliminating his supporters. Even as she approached, the Sith roared, battering the Jedi’s defense with powerful blows.

Kira scowled. Even this varp-head was ignoring her.

His mistake. she vowed to herself.

Kira Force-leapt at Krannus, her green double-bladed saber flashing high above the battlefield.

“Eat lightsaber, jerk!” she called out.

Corellan timed it perfectly. As a startled Lord Kael raised his crossed sabers above his head to meet Kira’s attack, the Jedi Master’s own blue lightsabers found an opening, slicing low at the Sith Lord’s ankle.

Had it not been for the orbalisks, the blow would have cleanly severed Krannus’ foot, and that would have been the end of it.

Instead, the attack (mostly) glanced off the impenetrable armor. Wounded or not, the impact had definitely further enraged the massive Sith Pureblood however, pushing him even further over the edge.

“Shavit!” Krannus screamed in pain, his blades recklessly slashing at Corellan again even as the Jedi effortlessly jumped backwards, a graceful toreador fighting a mighty bull.

Kira and Corellan hadn’t had time to discuss this part of the plan, but through their Force-bond, she knew they didn’t need to. She felt what he was doing. Kael’s orbalisk armor may have protected his body and even fueled his rage, but even with the Force, his physical and mental stamina had limits. Especially if he were wasting energy with his frustration.

This wasn’t the ‘end game’, of course. That would come later. But Corellan was a savant at lightsaber combat. Where most skilled duelists could, at the most, think a few moves ahead against an opponent of equal skill, it felt to Kira that Corellan could see a dozen moves ahead, even against a Sith as dangerous as the Emperor’s Wrath.

Krannus had the advantage of strength and resiliency. With his orbalisks, he could shrug off nearly any attack.

But as his frustration grew, it would also turn into anger and rage. Those emotions would power a Sith, but it would also lead them to make mistakes. The longer this fight lasted, the more Lord Kael fell back on his instincts. And those instincts had been honed long before he had donned the orbalisk armor. Those instincts were plainly built on the premise of ‘The best defense is a good offense’. (After all, if your enemy was dead, they couldn’t attack you, could they?) Within minutes he was again fighting like someone who was supremely confident in his capability to overwhelm his opponent with his powerful attacks to the point of arrogance, not like someone who rationally knew he couldn’t be wounded and had adjusted his tactics accordingly.

Corellan Halcyon and Kael Nosrol Krannus were equals in nearly every way. But here, their differences shined through for all to see.

Lord Kael had the benefit of his impregnable armor.

Corellan had the benefit of having a plan.

And of having Kira.

As the duel in the center of the battlefield raged on, so too did the greater battle of Yavin.

Theron knew that there was a perception amongst the general populace of the galaxy that the great clashes between the Galactic Republic and the Sith Empire were ultimately decided by lightsaber duels between Jedi and Sith.

Historically, Theron knew, that was rarely the case. While there were always exceptions, most major battles were instead decided by planning, logistics and – in Theron’s experience, what with being an SIS agent – superior intelligence.

He was starting to realize that – despite the Hero of Tython’s reputation as being exactly that, a Hero – Corellan Halcyon understood the same thing. Young though he was, at some point during his adventures, Corellan had learned to appreciate the difference between tactical planning and strategic planning:

Good tactics could win you a fight.

Good strategies could win you a war.

Because regardless of whether he and Kira could beat Krannus, in eliminating the Infinites and halting Lord Kael’s advance, he had already stopped the Revanites’ momentum cold. Their offensive had stalled.

The Coalition lines, buckling mere minutes earlier, were now consolidating and holding firm. Formations had regrouped, communications re-established. The pressure on the flanks faded as the Revanites struggled to hold their gains against superior numbers. The ‘wedge’ into the Coalition lines was now under pressure. Now, it was the Order of Revan troops that were looking overextended.

In that moment, Theron Shan finally began to understand why Halcyon had been so successful throughout his career. Yes, he was brave, skilled and powerful, but now he understood that this was what the Jedi Master had actually done on all those other worlds in his travels.

He didn’t do other people’s jobs for them. Instead, he took on the central problem those people were facing – the one obstacle that was causing the crisis and preventing the people there from doing their jobs – and that freed everyone else up to refocus on what mattered.

He helped people to help themselves. That not only earned him peoples’ gratitude, it also minimized any potential resentment people might have for being ‘rescued’.

And that’s what he was doing right now for the Coalition commanders.

Even if Corellan and Kira did fail to put down the ‘invincible’ Sith Lord, they had already defeated him. The Revanites were starting to be pushed back by Republic and Imperial forces all along the front. Looking down at a secondary display, Theron noted the icon representing the troops under Sergeant Rusk’s command. They had routed a group of the Order of Revan’s attack droids they’d been fighting and the Chagrian was even now driving his soldiers forward.

The tide had been turned.

Win or lose the battle, Corellan Halcyon had already won the war.

How long had they been fighting? Minutes? Hours? It could have been a day for all Kira knew. But the Force was surging within her, firing up her endorphins. She hadn’t felt this powerful since she’d purged Vitiate from her mind back on the Desolator above Tython years before.

Right now, with the adrenaline pumping in her veins, she felt like she could keep fighting like this forever.

And with Corellan at her side, she never questioned what the outcome of this fight would be.

It wasn’t courage, really. It wasn’t even faith, though Force knew she believed in Corellan Halcyon more than she believed in almost anything.

No. This was the confidence of certainty.

In the four years since Kira’s Knighting, Corellan had never taken on a new Padawan, despite numerous offers from the Jedi Council to do so. Nor had Kira accepted any assignments that would have allowed her to begin formally training a Padawan of her own; something she’d always intended to do herself.

Their physical relationship aside, this fight highlighted the reason why. They simply could not do the things they did with anyone else. Certainly not with a padawan.

They frankly would’ve gotten anyone else killed.

At some point, perhaps inevitably, Krannus had shifted his tactics, refocusing his attacks on taking down Kira while simultaneously attempting to hold off Corellan. No doubt he had decided that once he’d dealt with her, he could have turned his full attention on the Jedi Master in a one-on-one engagement with improved odds. Theoretically, it was a sound strategy, eliminating your weaker opponent so you could then focus on the main target. Kira and their crew often used similar tactics against particularly powerful enemies and their followers, allowing Corellan to isolate and defeat the primary threat.

But Lord Kael employing this plan in turn against this particular duo ignored three critical factors:

First, while she couldn’t match Corellan in sheer power or ability, Kira Carsen was still one of the most skilled duelists of her generation of Jedi. One who’d spent a childhood training to be a Sith on Korriban and who’d endured an adolescence just surviving the dangers of Nar Shaddaa and who’d spent nearly every day for the past four years training against the very best the Jedi Order had to offer. As far as she was concerned, she was no one’s “weaker target”.

Second, countless Sith – and far more Imperials – had already attempted this exact same tactic against the pair of Jedi. Thus far, it hadn’t worked out for any of them. Their ‘switches’ – where Corellan and Kira would suddenly change positions during a maneuver – had been the undoing of some of the deadliest Sith in the galaxy, most notably with Kira’s lightsaber spelling the end of Darth Angral on the Desolator and – much more recently – delivering the death blow to Darth Nox during the Empire’s assault on the Temple of Tython.

Third, the bond between Corellan and herself now far surpassed anything she imagined any two Sith – with their inherent distrust of each other – or any two Jedi – with their dogmatic dismissal of attachments – could ever experience. Kira and Corellan fought as one.

This Sith Lord didn’t have a chance.

As his frustration continued to build, Lord Kael let out another roar of rage.

“Schutta!” he cursed, calling upon the dark side as a massive radial Force blast knocked Kira and Corellan back.

Had she been on her own, Kira might – might – have been intimidated by the sheer power behind the blast. Krannus was proving to be even more powerful than Zu’fanda Pampya had been on Tython. More powerful than Darth Malgus had been at Ilum. Perhaps – in sheer power – he was second among the Sith only to Vitiate himself.

But fighting beside Corellan, with his innate combat senses and reassuring presence, she saw the blast it for what it was: a desperation move.

As she regained her balance, Kira found herself smirking in spite of the situation. The attack had been against both Jedi, but the expletive – with its feminine connotation – had unquestionably been directed against her. She’d gotten to him.

So when Lord Kael reached out his fingers and she felt the pressure of a Force choke squeezing her neck, Kira didn’t panic. Her own defensive barrier, having briefly flickered by the Force blast, reasserted itself, resisting the strength of the Sith’s attack. He was still restricting her breathing, but he couldn’t apply enough pressure to strangle her or to snap her neck. With time, perhaps, he could have rendered her unconscious.

But time was something Lord Kael Nosrol Krannus had just run out of.

Corellan Halcyon had risen to his feet.

As Kira glared into the Sith’s golden eyes, she could tell the moment they both sensed what was about to happen. Engaged this closely to Kael, she could feel him start to panic as he desperately used the Force to hurl her towards the oncoming Corellan, clinging to the hope that it would buy him a few more seconds to regroup.

And Kira… Kira simply placed herself in the hands of the Force. And in the hands of Corellan. Instinctively, she turned her body sideways in mid-air, watching in awe as a cerulean blue lightsaber passed above her by mere inches while sensing an identical blade passing below.

It took her mind a second to comprehend what had happened; as Kira’s body had been thrown towards him, Corellan had unleased both of his weapons in a twin-saber throw towards Krannus, one directed above her, the other beneath, no more than a meter apart.

It was an insane move.

Had Kira not turned her body at the precise instant she had, she’d have been sliced apart.

Before she could process that, however, she felt Corellan’s hand catching hers. Rather than pulling her into his arms, she instead felt his own body turning in place. Kira’s feet never touched the ground as her deep blue eyes caught his icy pale blues for a fraction of a second.

That fraction of a second was all Kira needed to understand exactly what Corellan was doing.

Had they been anyone else – any other two Jedi in the galaxy – this entire maneuver would have been insane. They’d have both been killed.

But they weren’t anyone else.

They were Kira Carsen and the Hero of Tython.

They were young. They were in love.

But above all else, they were heroes.

And today, with the eyes of the galaxy upon them, they would prove that claim beyond any doubt.

Spinning in place, Corellan effortlessly redirected Kira’s momentum, releasing her hand and hurling her back towards Krannus.

The Sith Lord had barely fended off the attack of Corellan’s sabers. Turning to see the Jedi Knight hurtling towards him through the air, her green, fluorescent double-bladed lightsaber ignited, even his Force-enhanced reflexes weren’t fast enough to block her attack.

In that instant, as the Emperor’s Wrath looked up at her in shock, Kira felt like a living weapon.

More, she felt like she was his weapon.

It was nothing like what she’d felt like when she been under the Emperor’s control. Back then, she’d felt like she was losing her own sense of identity. Like she was less than a slave.

Here, through her bond with her partner, she felt free.

Because someone like Kael Nosrol Krannus, who’d spent most of his life devotedly serving the worst tyrant the galaxy had ever seen in pursuit of his own personal power, would never understand that to someone like Kira Carsen, moments like this weren’t just worth dying for.

Moments like this were what she lived for.

Kira’s blow caught the inside of Lord Kael’s helmet as he screamed out in pain, dropping one of his lightsabers as he reached his hand up to grasp at the wound. She landed on the other side, turning to see that Corellan had regained his own lightsabers and was now standing alongside her.

Whatever Krannus’ helmet was made of must have been tough; he wouldn’t have survived this long if it wasn’t. But it didn’t protect his entire face.

As his blood spilled across the ground, Kira realized that she’d put out his right eye.

There had been a multitude parallels between Kael Nosrol Krannus and Corellan Halcyon over the years. But how they faced change and adversity were quite different.

Kael had once placed his total faith in Vitiate, the Sith Emperor, the being of ultimate power who had ruled the Empire for more than a millennium convinced that service to that monster was the truest path to power.

When he’d seen that faith shattered, he had thrown himself into the service of Revan, losing all sense of himself in his pursuit of revenge.

Corellan had once placed his total faith in the Jedi Order and the Galactic Republic.

When he’d seen things that had challenged that faith, from the Jedi Order’s dogmatic apathy on Voss to the Republic prison on Belsavis to Chancellor Saresh’s “military reforms”, he’d learned from it. He’d grown up. Matured. Evolved. He’d accepted that he could look past the shortcomings of others and find the strength within himself to do the right thing. That our beliefs could evolve without sacrificing the principals that defined us.

Corellan had accepted that he could change without abandoning the things that made him Corellan.

Their choices had now led these two icons of their respective, warring factions to this point here on Yavin at this exact moment.

With his remaining good eye, Lord Kael now glared at Corellan with a burning hatred.

“They call you the Jedi assassin.” He spat blood on the ground between them.

Kira felt a flash of anger at the Sith’s verbal snipe. She wanted to shout back at him that Corellan was the blasted Hero of Tython, and that he had saved the whole blasted galaxy, and that Kael could take his insults and go kriff himself.

Instead, she felt nothing but a cool acceptance from Corellan, who maintained a defensive stance with his lightsabers drawn.

“I would imagine they do.” He acknowledged, a placid expression on his face. “I’ve killed many people in my time, Lord Kael. Sith. Imperials. Criminals. Even a few rogue Jedi here and back on Rakata who joined you in Revan’s service.”

Corellan exhaled.

“I admit, at one point, even I was afraid I was turning into something I wouldn’t recognize.”

Krannus stood stunned, breathing heavily, a trickle of blood trailing down his red cheek from his ruined eye socket. Lightsabers usually cauterized the wounds they caused; this was something else. His body wasn’t responding normally. And whatever response he’d expected from his barb at the Jedi, it hadn’t been a confession.

“But just recently, I met with… with an old friend.” Corellan continued.

Kira knew instinctively that he was speaking of their encounter with the Force-ghost of Orgus Din, his old master, on Rishi. Corellan may have called almost everyone he’d ever met a ‘friend’, but she knew the few who actually got to him.

After all, she knew his story.

She knew everything about him, inside and out.

“That friend helped remind me of who I am and why I do what I do.” The Hero of Tython continued. “That I do have a future, if I can just let go of my fear that it will never come.”

He smiled wistfully.

“The strangest thing happens when we let go of our fears, Lord Kael. We become… well, I believe we become more of ourselves.”

To Kira, that very sentiment said so much about Corellan. Some cynical thinkers – and maybe even Kira herself – would claim that people were defined by their fears. How much suffering had been caused by people fearing their fellow sentient beings? Or for a lack of resources? Or a hundred other fears that seemed to drive everyone’s motivation? Even Kira’s own story had only really begun when she’d fled Korriban in fear of what the Emperor was doing to her.

Right or wrong, Corellan was exactly the kind of person who would think that people could only become the best versions of themselves when they let go of their fears.

That was one of the things she loved about him.

And he wasn’t finished.

“But that begs the question… with all the sacrifices you’ve made from just by donning that armor, what is it that you’re afraid of?”

Krannus’ good eye blinked once, and Kira found herself smirking as he snarled in anger at the barb. As Corellan raised his lightsabers, Kael’s hand lashed out with a massive blast of Force lightning towards the two Jedi…

All along the front, the Coalition forces were emerging from their defensive positions, starting to advance. Slowly at first; the Revanites were fanatics and they made their enemies fight for every step. But the loss of their momentum and the carefully coordinated counterattacks ordered by Satele and Marr were having the desired effect: The allies were once again starting to gain ground.

In a few minutes, if Krannus were even still alive, he’d be encircled.

So when Lord Kael’s blast of Force lightning struck Corellan’s crossed sabers, Theron decided that this had to be the end.

As lightning met lightsabers, the seconds started to pass. Roaring again in frustration, Krannus’ added his left hand to the attack, discarding his lightsabers entirely as the holoprojection flickered at the sheer power being unleashed from both hands.

Any second now, Corellan would break the circuit. He would turn the lightning aside and take the fight back to the Sith, even if he couldn’t directly penetrate the armor. Or, perhaps, he’d have Kira lead off with a series of distracting blows, then move in himself for the kill.

Once that happened, the leadership would order an all-out attack. The Revanites were already starting to buckle. Once Krannus was off the board, everything else would – Force-willing – fall into place.

He watched intently. Any second now…

Theron finally blinked, as the seconds kept ticking by and electrical charge against the sabers continued to build. Only now did he notice the awkward silence around the table.

“Uhm.”

Kira remembered, some years ago, Corellan discovering that he had no real aptitude for the Tutaminis Force technique beyond the rudimentary level. This was not particularly remarkable; only a small percentage of Jedi – among them Grand Master Satele – were skilled enough in the art of energy absorption to harness the truly impressive effects, like absorbing Force lightning or deflecting a lightsaber blow with their bare hand.

(Kira had heard a rumor once back on Tython that some Jedi and Sith could even use the Force to freeze a discharged blaster bolt in mid-air for several minutes by using only their minds before releasing it with full effect on a target. She’d always assumed that story to have been a crock: no one could ever identify a single individual who’d performed the trick. If Kira herself had seen it, she wasn’t sure that even she would have believed it.)

Still, it was a bit of a surprise that Corellan hadn’t managed to at least become adequately skilled at it. Aside from his old friend Ulannium, he was probably familiar with more Force combat techniques than any other Jedi of their generation.

But learning this one particular feat had always alluded him.

Still, hours upon hours of training with Scourge and Kira were sure to pay dividends eventually. The grumpy old tomato had probably seen more combat between Force-users than anyone else living, aside from maybe the Emperor himself.

But when Corellan had discovered the capability of doing something even Scourge had never seen or heard of before, even the Sith Lord had been impressed. And on that fateful day more than a year ago when the three of them had attempted this move together in a secluded valley on Alderaan, the effects had been, well… shocking.

Despite nearly being electrocuted during the exercise, Scourge hadn’t even been mad. In fact, he was as close to pleased as Kira had ever seen him. Heck, the grumpy old tomato had almost smiled.

The very rage that was powering Kael’s lightning attack was also going to be his downfall. Even with that pool of anger to draw on, sustaining this continuous torrent of lightning would be physically and mentally exhausting. Further, it would blind him to the fact that the charge building against Corellan’s lightsabers was actually growing brighter.

Lightning was supposed to dissipate against lightsabers; Tutaminis or no, it wasn’t supposed to build up.

Through Kira’s Force bond with Corellan, she could feel the moment coming. The Hero of Tython was focusing all his attention on the power building within his crossed sabers. In a sense, it felt like a test of wills between the Jedi and the Sith.

Engaged as he was, there was no possible way that Corellan could redirect that power himself with any kind of precision.

Of course, if Corellan were properly attuned through a Force-bond to someone skillful enough… well.

When the instant arrived, Corellan didn’t need to say anything. He didn’t even need to project anything towards her.

Kira simply knew.

She thrust out her green lightsaber blade, crossing it with Corellan’s weapons at a precise angle that should have been impossible to calculate.

The resulting blast of Force power erupted from the built-up charge, and it launched itself towards Krannus, faster than any of them could process.

The Sith Lord screamed in pain, blasted by electricity of his own making.

It was part of what Scourge had taught them about orbalisks: They were vulnerable to concentrated electricity. They could resist an attacking Sith’s Force lightning adequately enough… but they could not resist the wielder’s own power.

Kira watched as Kael continued to scream, the orbalisks literally burning off his body as the Sith Lord struggled to break free, to no avail.

As the final surge struck him with all the power of a thunderbolt, the Emperor’s Wrath was knocked off his feet for the third and final time this day.

The lightning finally dissipated.

The Sith Lord lay there on the ground motionless.

It sounded to Kira as if nearly the entire battlefield had suddenly gone quiet. She could hear blaster fire somewhere in the distance, but it felt like the planet itself was holding its breath for whatever happened next.

Corellan lowered his lightsabers, deactivating them as he exhaled in exhaustion, barely able to stand.

And yet, the victorious Jedi Master was still standing.

Krannus wasn’t.

Tired though she was from her adrenaline high wearing off, Kira reached out to Corellan through the Force, offering him a gentle caress. His eyes closed for a moment in acceptance and soon, his breathing started to return to normal. She could feel him becoming rejuvenated and felt more than a little satisfaction that she could have this sort of impact on him without even touching him.

He didn’t even look back towards her. But then, he didn’t need to. She could feel his upswelling of appreciation and gratitude as if he had squeezed her hand.

Corellan finally stepped towards the fallen Kael Nosrol Krannus. Kira, acting on reflex, followed at his side, looking down at the beaten Sith.

The smell of cooked flesh was revolting as it reached her nostrils, and she could barely contain the nausea she felt. As they looked down at their fallen foe, Kira could almost imperceptibly observe the Sith’s chest rising and falling; his breaths were ragged and broken.

Krannus was dying. And he clearly knew it.

With his one good eye, the Emperor’s Wrath glared up at the Hero of Tython.

“Finish them, Jedi.” He snarled weakly. “Finish those who have deceived us.”

Kira understood immediately whom he meant, even as Corellan stood in place in stoic silence.

The Emperor.

And Revan.

The galaxy itself had been engulfed over an insane feud that dated back three centuries.

It had to end.

A final sigh escaped Kael’s lips as his head fell back, yellow eyes still open, looking skyward.

The Emperor’s Wrath was gone.

Back at Coalition headquarters, Theron had been standing by to give the order the moment Lord Kael fell. Before Krannus had even taken his last breath, the Republic agent had already toggled the open channel on his communicator.

“All Coalition forces – this is command.” He announced. “The Revanites are broken. General attack. Again, all troops, general attack. It’s time to finish this.”

Theron fell back in his field chair as the icons started to advance in earnest across the holo-map. If there had been any fight left in the Order, any faith in their leader’s mad plans, it had been spent the moment Krannus had fallen: They were running.

No more strategic planning would be needed. Not for commanding the troops, anyway.

“Whew.” Theron exhaled in relief. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen that trick before.”

He beamed, looking up at the others.

All three pairs of Force-sensitive eyes around the table were still locked silently on the projection of Halcyon, Carsen and the body of Krannus.

Lana’s mouth had fallen open in shock for a long moment before she’d quickly composed herself, swallowing before letting out a breath. Satele’s eyes were clearly focused on the projection of Corellan, as if silently scrutinizing him for something only she could see. If she’d appeared concerned for her order’s young champion before, she was definitely rattled, now. Theron had long reasoned that part of the famed ‘Jedi mystique’ involved keeping one’s mouth shut when you didn’t actually have anything to say. Grand master Satele Shan certainly personified that approach. Meanwhile, hidden behind his mask, Marr’s throat made a sound that Theron couldn’t even begin to describe, nor did he think any human mouth should have been able to make.

Once again, it was Satele who seemed to regain her senses first.

“Deploy the medical teams to recover our wounded.” She ordered, reasserting herself, the very picture of decisive calm. “Alert the fleet in orbit to be on guard for fleeing transport ships. We cannot allow Revan or any of his followers to escape us again.”

Theron, blinking surprise at the reactions of the others, nodded in assent and relayed the instructions.

As the battle of Yavin came to an end, the SIS agent reflected on what he’d seen this day. Lana was certainly highly intelligent and knowledgeable concerning the Force, but it was their mutual superiors who’d captured his attention.

Satele and Marr were two of the most active and accomplished leaders of Jedi and Sith in history. They’d seen countless battles over the decades, fighting endless enemies. Between the two of them, they’d probably opened Force-knew how many holocrons or other ancient texts to expand their respective knowledge of the Force.

Neither of them had even recognized the orbalisk armor that Krannus had been wearing. And certainly neither of them had seen anything like the feat that Corellan Halcyon, at just twenty-seven years of age, had just performed with his former padawan.

Reflecting on that, Theron finally turned his attention back to the live feed of the duel that had just ended.

Halcyon and Carsen had turned their backs to the fallen Sith Lord and were now walking back in the direction of the Coalition lines even as their troops advanced the other way. Their part in the wider campaign was done.

As she followed a step behind and to the right of Corellan, he saw Kira turn and glance over at him, an expression in her eyes that he couldn’t quite interpret through the projection.

Theron was usually a loner by choice. It suited his personality. But just for a moment, he truly envied Corellan Halcyon for having a partner like Kira Carsen.

Minutes later, now standing just outside of Coalition headquarters, Kira stood across from Corellan.

Right this moment, she wanted so badly to grab him and kiss him. She would have shoved him back against the nearest tree and…

But it wasn’t the place or the time. Even in this moment of relative privacy, there were too many Republic and Imperial officers close by. Anyone could have been watching them.

Meanwhile, Satele, Theron and the Sith were waiting for him.

Revan was still out there, preparing to do Force-knows what. Regardless of whether or not it was really him behind the mask, he needed to be dealt with.

And beyond Revan was the Emperor.

As always, there was never enough time for them. And until they gave it up, there never would be.

Still, in this moment, Corellan had let the mask drop for a bit. The cold front he’d put up for the Sith. For Marr, Beniko and even Krannus. The ‘Hero’ personae he’d put up for Satele, Theron and the Republic. She alone could see the vulnerable man beneath the invincible hero.

That was enough for her. For now.

The development of Corellan’s “mask” meant she owed Scourge another ‘thank you’. As much as she loved Corellan, she’d been worried the Sith would exploit his blasted heroic nature for their own ends. So along the way, he’d learned to present the face of someone else for when he needed it; someone who could consistently throw his enemies off based on their expectations of what a Jedi even was. Between his Force camouflage and the public demeanor, they didn’t see him.

Kira had heard that Darth Marr claimed that the mask he wore was his face.

Right now, it felt like Corellan’s face was a mask.

On the flip side, he’d probably worried both of the Shans with how he’d been acting the last couple of days in front of the Sith and the Imperials. That would need addressing at some point, Kira knew.

But here, alone with her for this moment, he could allow himself to be vulnerable with her. More than that, he could be himself.

That moment couldn’t last, of course.

“You’ll tell him that its time?” he finally asked her.

I love you. Was what Kira heard.

“Yeah.” she nodded in agreement. “I’ll send ‘Big Red’ in.”

I love you, too. Kira had answered.

Without another word, she turned and left, feeling his gaze following behind her before he, too, took his leave.

“How did he do that?” Darth Marr nearly growled beneath his mask.

The Coalition forces had turned the victory over the Revanites into a route. But no one could have discerned that based on Marr’s mood in their headquarters.

“How did he even know about orbalisks? They haven’t been seen in the Empire in centuries! I barely recall even reading about them from some forbidden text in my youth!”

“My lord, please.” Lana beseeched her new boss. She’d had the presence of mind to dismiss the support staff so they wouldn’t be around to witness any ‘potentially difficult’ discussions. “I can begin making discreet inquiries once this current situation is concluded.”

Theron didn’t have any explanation that could have placated Marr and decided to himself that a snarky remark would be ill-timed right now. So he and Satele were quietly continuing to coordinate the mop-up effort while Lana attempted to defuse the situation with the frustrated Dark Councilor.

Marr paused, turning to glare down at the younger Sith.

“Talented as you are, Beniko, I doubt even your guile could determine how a young Jedi learned of long-forgotten Sith techniques.” Marr’s voice had leveled, but he couldn’t quite keep the slight hiss from his tone as he addressed his subordinate. Indeed, it was so intimidating, he probably hadn’t even tried. Regardless of how he felt about her right now, Theron didn’t envy Lana having Marr’s attention in the slightest.

Fortunately, they were interrupted before things escalated any further.

“’There is no ignorance, there is knowledge’, Lord Marr.” Halcyon’s voice echoed in the clearing as he approached the table, as he quoted the opening line of the Jedi Code, the same doctrine that Sith Lords so famously rejected with contempt. Clearly, the Jedi Master had overheard the conversation.

Theron found himself surprised that Corellan didn’t sound remotely smug; just coy. Aside from his singed robes, there was little sign he’d just fought the battle of his life. Indeed, if anything, he looked reenergized.

“You’ve returned.” Satele noted assessing him with a conciliatory nod. “Well done, Master Corellan.”

If she was still concerned with Corellan’s state, and Theron had to believe that she was, she was keeping it well-hidden in her voice behind a shield of formal compassion. Her veneer of calm was as unflappable as always.

Corellan turned to the famed leader of his order and bowed, crossing his arm across his chest in the Jedi salute.

“Master Satele.” He returned the formal greeting, bowing his head. “Thank you for approving the bombardment.” Corellan paused. “I regret there wasn’t time for me to sufficiently explain the plan earlier.”

Theron bit his lip, remembering their previous conversation.

“So we gathered.” The Grand Master assented. Their exchange was entirely civil, but Theron noted that it had not been entirely warm.

“Yes, let me second those congratulations, Master Jedi.” Lana stepped towards Corellan, giving him a surprisingly genuine smile. “It was a remarkable victory.”

She paused as if about to speak further, looking past Corellan towards the entrance.

“Will we be meeting your talented companion?”

Corellan returned her expression. Somehow, though, the smile he gave her didn’t quite reach his tired eyes.

“I’m afraid not, Lana.” He answered. “Knight Carsen was needed elsewhere. But thank you.”

Again, civil words. But delivered more formally than Theron would have expected from a man who was usually so open.

Corellan paused and looked around at the faces around the table.

“What’s our status?”

Theron, undistracted from the drama with Marr, had been ready for that line of inquiry.

“All units report success.” The SIS agent reported. “The weapon has been shut down and all the Revanites have been neutralized.”

He let that sink in, knowing what was coming next.

“Only one more left to deal with.”

Theron didn’t have to announce who that was. Lord Kael Nosrol Krannus had been all but invincible, but in the end, he’d just been a follower. There was no doubt in his mind that Revan had been the one who’d donned Krannus in the orbalisk armor in the first place. They’d be foolish to think their quarry didn’t have more surprises in store for his enemies, even with his army thoroughly beaten.

“Iven told us where Revan might go.” Satele reasoned. “The Emperor’s final sanctuary.”

A moment of silence fell across the table. Defeating the Order of Revan had been one thing. Defeating Revan himself – and possibly the Emperor, as well – was something else altogether.

Marr regarded Halcyon with what Theron could only assume was an appraising look beneath his metal mask. It felt like the Sith Lord was finally regarding the young Jedi Master with new eyes.

“You must realize, Master Halcyon, that if you embraced the dark side of the Force yourself, then no one in the galaxy would be able to stand in your way. Not even Revan.”

His voice felt like a viper slithering up Theron’s arm as he dangled the other, temptingly.

“You would be invincible.”

Satele’s eyes narrowed at the suggestion that her order’s champion could be corrupted in such a manner and even Lana looked downwards and shifted her feet uncomfortably. Theron found himself torn between the practical advantages of a dark-sided Corellan Halcyon and the fear he felt in contemplating the Jedi as a Sith Lord.

But Corellan Halcyon himself merely turned and regarded the towering Dark Councilor in turn. Marr stood at least five inches taller than the Jedi, but they might as well have been at eye level for all that mattered. The thinnest of smiles came to the Jedi’s lips.

“But then who would you find to stop me, Lord Marr?” he asked. “When I became too powerful to be contained and ruled your Empire for my own benefit?”

Theron watched as Marr’s powerful shoulders clenched at the barb. The reminder of what Vitiate, a veritable demigod ruling the Sith Empire for thirteen hundred years, had done was still fresh in everyone’s mind.

Before Marr could respond, the intelligence agent decided to change the subject.

“We could call in help.” Theron offered, eager to break the tension. “Havoc Squad could be here within a day. And Barsen’thor Kaarz reached out to ask if we needed his assistance, as well.”

He considered their other options, glancing towards Lana.

“We could even call in Xadya, the reigning Champion of the Great Hunt, if the Empire wanted to contract some Mandalorian help.”

There was a quiet pause around the table, then Corellan shook his head.

“Not enough time. Whatever Revan is planning with the Emperor, we don’t have a moment to waste.”

Theron just nodded in agreement. He was unsurprised when again no one attempted to contradict Corellan’s assessment of the situation. Glancing sideways at Satele, he could see the reluctant approval in her eyes as well. Her concerns for the young Jedi Master could wait.

“We’ve got speeders prepped.” he promised, turning back to Corellan. “Jakarro is insisting on joining us as well. You won’t be facing him alone.”

Corellan just nodded back to Theron gratefully.

“Then let’s finish this.”

Without another word, he turned and headed back towards the exit, his ruined robes flowing behind him like a hero from some holovid drama.

Theron watched him silently as the others began their preparations.

He wondered if Marr had been wrong in his estimation.

Corellan Halcyon was, by all outward appearances, already invincible.

Deep within the Temple of Sacrifice, a man behind a metal mask scowled as he witnessed his final roll of the dice come up short.

He’d known that Kael had been a blunt instrument given the state of mind the Sith Lord had been in, all but useless the moment a more refined response was called for. Nevertheless, had played the hand the Force had dealt him.

Now his followers were routed or fleeing. Even his personal guards, the Infinites, had been lost in that last assault.

The Order of Revan was finished.

That was unfortunate, but the cult had served its purpose getting him to this point. He was strong enough to complete his great work on his own no matter what these interlopers threw at him.

They might have been powerful. They might even believe that they were invincible.

But he was Revan.

TO BE CONTINUED

Author’s Notes: Full disclosure, a small chunk of the dialogue late in this story is pulled directly from the Shadow of Revan expansion, just before you go to face Revan near the end.

I’ve had this story in my Work-In-Progress writing journal for many years. At one point, I started to actually write a draft of it, then set it aside when the scope of the work started to become clear. It’s by far the longest thing I’ve written. That was two years ago. The final product involved going through many, many drafts, and has been a burden for these last three months.

It was the hardest writing project I’ve ever finished since I started writing fanfiction.

I remember one day thinking to myself ‘The Jedi Knight crew spends all this time together. What do they wind up talking about? What are their common interests?’ So I decided they talk a lot about combat. Rusk is a tactical specialist. Kira is an adrenaline junkie. Scourge is basically an ancient ninja. Doc is a field medic. Teeseven loves lightsabers. Corellan is Corellan. I imagined the group spent a lot of time designing maneuvers the way coaches draw up plays in American football and basketball. For the record, I do remember that when I fleshed out this idea, I had Skillet’s “Invincible” playing in the background. This piece was also partially inspired by the action scenes in the classic Deceived and The Return trailers.

This piece was originally planned as a chapter in a five-part series, with each piece featuring a point-of-view alternating between one of the Jedi Knight companions and one of the prominent NPCs involved in the S.O.R. story. (Lana and Teeseven would have been “paired” together, for example, like Theron and Kira were here.) That project wasn’t coming along, so this story is now a two-parter in that duology, with this chapter being the first. I’m fascinated by the idea of a story being told from the points of view of different characters who have different perspectives on the same scene based on their own understanding and preconceived notions. I touch on that concept for this chapter and I’m thinking I intend to make it even more pronounced in the next.

Writing action scenes is … still challenging for me. But I’m working on it.

We never see them in the actual SWTOR game story, but I head-canon that orbalisks are not commonly used in the “modern” Sith Empire, with even the knowledge of their existence a secret suppressed by the Emperor. By the time of the Shadow of Revan expansion, even knowledgeable Sith like Marr have barely heard of them. (Obviously, certain select individuals – such as a three-hundred year-old Sith Lord – are obviously more familiar.) I was tickled by the head-canon that Marr kept forbidden Sith texts under his pillow as a child. I know that many of you are not fans of Drew Karpyshyn, but I enjoyed his Darth Bane Trilogy. Those of you who have also read it will no doubt be familiar with some of my inspirations for this chapter. I wanted to introduce a special element into this fight and giving orbalisks to Lord Kael seemed to make sense to me.

Speaking of which, Kael Nosrol Krannus is one of my oldest OCs, dating back to when he was simply known as “Nosrol”. (Which sounded too much like one of the orcs from Warcraft for my tastes.) The literal intent of the character was to take (almost) every single dark-side choice available in the Sith Warrior Class and Imperial stories since I so often play light side. Simply put, he’s my token ‘edge-lord’, as terrible a trope as that is. But he was also a hardline Vitiate fanatic, and as such he fit the role here: when you shatter a fanatic’s faith in something, they don’t usually become a better-rounded person with a fresh perspective. They just find something else to be fanatical about. That development is about as interesting as the character gets. Other quick notes on Kael: First, ‘Lord Kael and the Infinites’ sounds like a good name for an 80’s death-metal band. (No, that wasn’t intentional.) Second, the game-play rule that Sith Warriors can’t make Force lightning is dumb. Third, his line of dialogue at the end is a reference to the Obi-Wan / Maul scene from Star Wars: Rebels, one of my favorite moments from that series.

Fun fact, the first reference to Theron in the actual game story comes from Kira Carsen herself, during a post-class story letter. I head-canon that Kira, in contrast to the discreet Corellan, frequently teases Theron about Satele being his mother. (She eventually quits teasing him after she joins the Eternal Alliance, but that comes much later.) Aside from his encounter with Orgus, Corellan didn’t team with Kira for much of the Forged Alliances / Shadow of Revan storyline, primarily because he was concerned about Lana or Satele or possibly even Revan himself putting two and two together concerning their relationship. Obviously, that weighs on my favorite one true pairing. Other notes on Kira: First, @taraum is the reason I have Kira calling Scourge ‘the Big Tomato’ and so on. Years later, I continue to be inspired by her work. Second, I’ve head-cannoned for a while that Kira loves the color purple and would change her lightsaber color to it if it didn’t make the other Jedi look at her suspiciously. (Lookup the story “Apex” on ff.net for my inspiration on that.) Third, SWTOR gameplay is weird. Regardless of the settings, companions often wind up acting like tanks in the fights, drawing the attention of mobs. So I have certainly seen enemies trying to gang up on Kira while I’m playing as Corellan, and they usually pay the price. Fourth, Kira’s Tutaminis rumor was a light dig at the opening scene from The Force Awakens with Kylo Ren. All jokes aside, it wasn’t a terrible film, but I can only look back on it now as a waste of potential knowing what was to come.

Theron’s obliviousness to Kira’s relationship with Corellan is just good, clean fun for me.

Unintentionally, I feel I’ve laid the groundwork for the Eternal Alliance storyline and the choices Lana, Theron and other characters wind up making concerning Corellan Halcyon as the future Outlander and Alliance Commander. On its surface, there aren’t a terrible number of reasons why Lana Beniko would ‘draft’ an Outlander like Corellan, who is probably a bit too idealistic for her tastes. The Corellan she sees here has a ruthless streak in addition to being an inspiring figure. That is the version of Corellan she wants to lead the revolt against Zakuul. (This naturally leads to some misunderstandings later on after she frees him. “Lana Beniko disapproves” indeed!)

I’ve alluded before that in my Legacy, Corellan and his crew met with Theron well before the events in the Forged Alliances story on a couple of “unofficial” missions. That story is even deeper in my WIP folder than this one was and probably will not see the light of day.

The Twi’lek Jedi and human Sith Lord who died fighting Kael are named Pol’fenn and Fen Huang. They are obviously minor supporting players here, but they are featured original characters in my Barith Legacy, where (obviously) they don’t meet their end fighting my favorite evil edge-lord. I might write about that “alternate timeline” legacy some other time.

My characterization of Satele Shan feels very passive in this story and that may draw some deserved criticism. I intend to address that in the next chapter.

I don’t know if any of you caught it, but there was an homage to the classic Dark Phoenix Saga story from the X-Men comics. It was just a bit of narrative text that always stuck with me, and it fit Kira and Corellan.

Stay tuned for “Part Two” of this story, titled Allies and coming… someday. I probably need a break from this series for awhile, but I’ll get to it. Kira won’t really be there, but Scourge and Satele definitely will be.

Thank you, and may the Force be with you.

- SWTORpadawan

Tagging interested parties: @a-master-procrastinator @abbee-normal @abysskeeper @actualanxiousswampwitch @ainyan @amons-hat-enthusiast @ancha-meadow @anchanted-one @atlanta--airport @beaut-ful-d-saster @blueburds-but-swtor @cassthechaoticmercenary @certified-anakinfucker @chaosandwonder @chokit-pyrus @cinlat @commander-krios @connoissuer-of-fine-vines @cryo-lily @darthsinister66 @depizan @dynlegacy @eorzeashan @freedim @girlstandstill @gmkelz11 @grandninjamasterren @inventedbyawriter @itstheelvenjedi @jayofolympus @jbnonsensework @justadreaminghufflepuff @karanan @kemendin @kgoblin @khrushchevs-corn-farm @lemonlinelights @lonewolfel @magicallulu7 @boggedfrog @misthios00 @mysterious-cuchulainn-x @nostalgiaaftersimming @rangerslayer-97 @oolathurman @pentacass @princessthriller @rogue-kenobi @sealeneee @shabre-legacy @shadowysthings @shynmighty @space-unicorn-dot @starknstarwars @sullustangin @taina-eny @taraum @the-jedi-knight-enjoyer @the-raven-of-highever @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @tishinada @velvetsunset @vexa-legacy @vihola @wackyart @what-we-fight-for @wilvarin-chan

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