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fleeting-sanity · 2 years

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Echoes of Oblivion

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Hello, this is just me re-writing Echoes to fit my OC's narrative. It's a bit long. Tried trimming what I could. Thank you to @swtorramblings & @scribblesonthewall for helping!

The preparation was prompt but swift. Lana stayed behind to continue running the base, wishing the Force's omnipotence upon the twin. However, they were met with Theron and Senya; the latter was having a tense discussion with her son.

"Yes, but there might be a chance something can go wrong. I'm doing this so you can continue being the father you want to be to your daughters."

"But you-"

"They will decide."

Senya presented her case to the twins, stating that she felt responsible for her part in Valkorion's schemes. It wasn't the strongest of reasoning, but surprisingly Rionnic granted her request. His attention was then diverted by his wife calling out to him, excusing himself. As Riornivo's gaze landed on Theron, both men knew it was going to be the same question as Senya's.

".... She's my mother. It would kill me to know that I didn't try when I had the chance."

The former SIS agent didn't need to strengthen his case, but his final point deeply resonated with Riornivo. Flashes of the failure with his own mother appeared, but he shook his head to repel that trauma. All three of the people talking to him moved to help as he took a step back, but he reassured them of his condition. The Jedi reluctantly agreed with the agent's request.

"You need to take care of our son... Do you still believe in me?" as Rionnic grasped Jaesa's hand, having had to refuse her pitch of coming along. It was the same question he uttered at the beginning of their relationship, and she decided to give the same response all those years ago: a melancholic kiss.

When Kira stepped out of the shuttle, she was surprised to see the additions to the rescue group. Scourge voiced his disapproval, but Rionnic reminded him of how powerful Vitiate was. The first Wrath argued about the risks, which led to his successor taking on full responsibility upon all of the personnel accompanying him. It was quite the unexpected stance coming from Rionnic considering that he mostly preferred working solo.

"We're not helpless. You're venturing into the unknown... It'll be safer with numbers." Senya chimed in.

"Right, let's just go. Time's short." As Kira stepped back into the shuttle.

Minutes after they approached the coordinates, they were intercepted by a fighter unit coming from the ship Satele was in. Kira's shuttle managed to evade the attack while Arcann's shuttle from behind shot at the assailant. He told Kira to sprint towards the ship while he dispatched the enemy.

The two Wraths and two Jedi cautiously disembarked from their shuttle, expecting a welcoming party. They were met with darkness and silence instead. Their steps were light to avoid alerting the occupants, but without lightsabers to light their way, it was difficult.

Until they heard an argument coming from a control room. It was two Hands of the Emperor, being quite uncharacteristic by the way they bickered.

"This is impossible! We fixed one system and another broke! It's deliberate!"

"That must have been T7's handiwork," Kira whispered to Rionnic. "Let's take them out quietly before th-"

But Scourge had a different idea. He menacingly advanced towards the two servants, attacking them alone. Rionnic could only narrow his eyes at that. When the rest of the group joined Scourge, it became an uneven fight. Riornivo only flinched and cowered during the brutality, earning some side eyes from his twin. But Kira put a comforting hand on the rattled Jedi, understanding how unnerving it was watching the two Wraths mercilessly struck down their enemies.

T7 emerged from hiding behind some boxes, expressing his relief.

"Ship = off-course // Unknown group = arrived before T7 + Hand"

Which led Kira to question who else was in the ship. Scourge wanted to dispatch them, causing Riornivo to disagree as they could be after the same purpose. "Agreed," as Kira interjected, "Containment should be our priority anyways."

"Engine malfunction = temporary // direct sabotage = necessary"

"Great, I'll take T7 to make sure the hyperdrive and engines are completely shut down. Shields and weapons too, just in case. You wanna come along?" To which Riornivo took up Kira's offer.

"We must still make sure no one on this ship can leave. We cannot risk the plague spreading." Scourge reminded, to which Rionnic replied, "We should launch the escape pods before anyone can use it… and the unknown group's transport."

Everyone nodded as the objectives were set and thus, the two Jedi and Wraths split up. The two Siths encountered more servants along the way, fighting their former comrades off while releasing the escape pods and progressing towards the hangar control room. Their counterparts weren't met with as much combat until they reached their objective. As much as Riornivo hated violence, he couldn't possibly let Kira face the enemies alone.

He reluctantly drew his new lightsaber, while utilizing mostly defensive Force abilities. Every chance he could incapacitate the opponent, he took it.

Upon seeing the mystery shuttle being a Zakuulan one, Rionnic was unsurprised but still perplexed. Scourge voiced his disdain about the passenger's loyalty to Valkorion, to which Rionnic added, "Some of them oppose my tenure. I can't be sure of their agenda."

"Then we should give them a chance to explain themselves before striking."

After releasing the shuttle into open space, Kira called them to report on her progress. Rionnic did the same, and Kira gave everyone a coordinate to meet on a hunch that both Jedi sensed Satele's whereabouts. Once the two Wraths made their way to the ship's bridge, they found some lifeless Scions, with traces of lightsaber battles around the room. Rionnic recalled their purpose while he readjusted the ship's course. When they were about to leave the bridge, an unmistakable, ghostly voice lamented the loss of lives, urging an end to it.

"Revan?"

"The ritual inscribed on Tenebrae's flesh–the plague, is taking over its host's minds. He's being remade, I can feel it. We need to intervene." Revan remarked.

"Kira will lead us in meditation. We will join our minds and try to purge the plague from Satele's psyche."

"Then go, quickly. I'll help you as best as I can."

The two Jedi met Arcann's group, and not long after, they met the two Wraths at the specified coordinates. From a distance, Satele can be seen being dragged around along with her students by the servants, but they were stopped by an unsettling scene. Minazar, a fatally injured Scion used the last of his breaths to laugh once he spotted the rescue group.

“Heskal’s prophecy… at last, we’re all here…”

But Servant Four emerged with her lightsaber brandished. “You cannot stop this!”

“You’ll never win!” Minazar argued back. “Valkorion’s last vestige will soon be purged from your corruption!”

“You were puppets! Fools! We’re his true followers! Only we know the true shape of his power–of his plans!”

Rionnic rubbed his forehead while sighing defeatedly at the bickering. Arcann attempted to reason with them after Riornivo's effort failed, producing the same result. Weapons were drawn when Servant Four ended Minazar's life. The fight was difficult; the room they were in was small compared to the one Satele was located, but they avoided bringing the fight near her. Even more lives were lost.

Kira and Theron wasted no time to check on Satele's condition while Riornivo did the same for the group, healing their minor injuries.

"She's still breathing. Some of her students… we gotta hurry."

"Quick! Form a circle." Scourge commanded.

But Theron grabbed Riornivo's arm, with a somber look on his face. "I'll keep guard in case there are stragglers."

"Theron?"

"I'm glad I could help but… I don't think I want to see the inside of her head."

"Couldn't agree more." Rionnic interjected.

The Barsen'thor acknowledged the agent's concern, and advised him to wake any of them up should anything go wrong. Kira began to instruct the Force wielders to focus their minds on Satele, and to control their breathing as they went into deep meditation. Then, to follow her voice as the Force gradually shifted the fabric of reality.

Vaylin woke up in a strange place, unlike anything she had ever seen before. How did she get there? Was this another dream? Just when she thought to sleep earlier today! She was wearing her former Empress robes, complete with the head covering. Looking down, she saw an endless, purplish gray void. But the most perturbing thing was a tall figure approaching her.

It was her murderer, the evil twin.

Instantly, she activated her lightsaber to defend herself. She had never come face to face with him ever since that day. He marched closer with his lightsaber pointed at her. Gazing upon the face of the man she had come to care for contorted with such hatred made her weaker.

"Everytime you hurt him, I felt it too. Didn't you know?"

A damaging statement hitting her where it mattered. Her fists clenched tighter, with the free one shooting sparks out. Flashes of that day resurfaced; his red lightsaber through her body, but his twin quickly pulled him away from her.

"Get away from me!"

"No, you get away from me. Get away from him."

He took the first swing. She successfully blocked it, quickly creating a distance by sidestepping. She pushed him away with the Force, but it only managed to weakly shove him. Either his Force resistance had increased tremendously, or she became weaker instead. He struck again with added weight to his swing, causing her to stagger back after parrying. Not giving her a chance, he swung again multiple times, straining her resolve, causing her defense to get sloppy. It felt like a casual fencing session for him, clearly not using his full might and expertise. While she was fighting for her life. A reminiscence to what she used to love doing to her subordinates.

Her lightning bolts missed, distance created easily closed by his much larger size, her own strikes deftly countered, and even her anger wasn't enough to overcome the circumstance. She couldn't even find a second to focus on the Force prowess she had.

But suddenly, another lightsaber clashed with his. This time, it was someone his own size, catching him off guard. Having the fight unexpectedly leveled against him, he had to finally use his off-hand lightsaber.

"Thexan?"

Was this another Iokath situation? Was Thexan real? She took a moment to sense her brother's presence through the Force, and it reciprocated. She could feel him. But she was already quite drained to assist her brother, and her head was spinning with questions and a strange but familiar influence trying to take over…

Kira woke up to a horrifying environment, discouraged by the state of Satele's mind. Next to her was Riornivo, who awakened shortly after her. "I can’t sense the others… I'm not sure if they made it in."

"Unexpected visitors… Fascinating."

That voice again, unmistakable and dreadful. Both of them walked forward cautiously when Valkorion appeared in a flash of lightning, startling them. “You don’t recognize me?” Riornivo asked.

“No, but you come here for a purpose… Ah, who might you be?”

Before they could do anything, Valkorion summoned dark energies taking the form of monstrosities to welcome them. Kira leapt into the fight while Valkorion vanished. Choice was once again ripped from Rio’s hands as he had to fight off the monstrosities inflicting all kinds of negative emotions with each attack. After the last of them was defeated, Valkorion praised them both, but yet another voice familiar to Kira echoed the sentiment. Vitiate.

"What the-"

But there was another manifestation, a void-eyed Sith pureblood, donned in an ancient apparel and a body full of markings.

Riornivo thought he was taking pills of lunacy when each of the forms took turns in talking, remarking what memories and knowledge Satele possessed when pressed about the past encounters. Seeing that the monstrosities weren’t giving the two Jedi much trouble, Tenebrae isolated Rio from Kira, leaving him to fight alone. But an equally powerful presence launched a surprise attack on Tenebrae, reducing his form to a dark dust.

“In this fight you are never alone!” Revan exclaimed.

The relief Riornivo felt was tremendous–he didn’t think he could survive three Emperors by himself. Revan took over most of the fighting as they progressed further into the corrupted memory, restoring it little by little by reliving the fonder ones such as Satele's early recalling of her padawan days. Once Tenebrae’s attention was stolen from the others by what the pair was doing, he reappeared to stop Revan and Riornivo.

Even more unexpected appearances came to assist. It was Meetra Surik and Scourge, seemingly to have closed their own chapter all those years ago. Outnumbered, the void-eyed Sith shifted the scene and scattered his enemies again. It wasn't long after Rio got up that another familiar voice spoke to him. Darth Marr.

"This impression of Tenebrae isn't as powerful as he thinks he is. His lack of memory means that he does not know how to effectively combat us," as Rio approached him, still quite light-headed. "Despite this state of mind, Satele is stronger than that. You can stop him. Avenge me. Avenge us all!"

Another blinding light and a change of environment. Riornivo wondered how Marr was able to do that, but he concluded that the Sith was a close companion to Satele during her exile. Perhaps he was one of the last bastions of Satele's mind against Tenebrae's corruption. He took a moment to regain his composure–all that teleportation and cameos was quite disorientating. Fortunately, he felt right at home walking around the faux Tython, discovering a small holocron by a statue. He then showed it towards a gateway, opening up a passage leading back to the distorted scenery.

He looked around to see if he wasn’t alone anymore. Failing that, he started walking, eventually seeing a corrupted Jedi temple in the distance. But a scene unveiling nearby caught his attention first. His twin was fighting Arcann’s twin and Vaylin. Rionnic was holding his own against the siblings, being so much more powerful it’s unnatural. “STOP!”

Riornivo’s shouting distracted Rionnic, which Thexan took to full advantage. He stepped back and then jumped for the kill.

But he was frozen mid-air. It wasn’t only him, both Vaylin and Rionnic received the same treatment. When Riornivo finally arrived in the middle of the three, he panted and struggled to normalize his breathing. While the frozen three looked at him with gobsmacked expressions. Comically, the Jedi manually removed their lightsabers, then rearranged them away from each other gently with the Force. He knew full well that he was in for either a verbal or physical smack down after he released them.

“Please, this is what Valkorion wanted you to do. We must work together…”

And so he released them. Thexan seemed to understand and just stood there, Rionnic was baring his teeth at his brother, while Vaylin pulled her lightsaber back.

“He tried to kill me! He started it first! I was just defending myself from my murderer!” Vaylin shouted.

“Ah, here we go again. You’re going to excuse her behavior in three… two…” Rionnic mocked.

“Stop. Please, just a moment. It’s killing me to see you both like this. We can talk this through. I’m beggi-”

“Oh, no, not this again! This just keeps on getting better!” Vaylin interrupted upon seeing her mother and brother approaching. Meanwhile, Tenebrae was watching from stealth, smiling at the chaos unfolding.

“Brother… I…” Arcann lamented.

“I know.”

“Know what? That he’s just as delusional as our parents?”

“Vaylin… please.”

“Please, please,” Vaylin mocked, while Rionnic stepped back, wanting no part of this family reunion. “Please what, mother? To stop reminding you of the truth? Does it hurt? Because it pales to what you’ve done to me.”

“I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But you deserve to hear this,” as Senya slowly approached her daughter. “I was wrong… He took you and I said nothing. He caged you and I just stood by. He robbed you of the woman you were destined to be but I… I let it happen. Others blamed you for so much, but the fault is all mine. The pain and suffering wouldn’t have happened if I just fought harder… for you. I could have done more… I should have done more.”

Senya’s weeping seemed to ease its way into Vaylin’s heart. Riornivo had been nodding somberly throughout, adding his own words to it. “I know this isn’t nearly enough to make things right… but I hope hearing this brings you some peace, Vaylin.”

It resulted in a long pause from everyone until Vaylin recouped her composure, sniffing out her father from behind. “Can we focus? There’s someone else here who needs to DIE.”

“Heh, foolish child,” as Valkorion suddenly appeared, once again startling everyone. He held out a hand, attempting to invade Vaylin’s mind. Not this time, she thought. The Force fully cooperated with her by blasting Valkorion with lightning, stopping his attempt and unveiling both Vitiate and Tenebrae nearby. The Zakuulan family advanced towards Tenebrae, cornering him.

"You presume limits to my power. There are none."

Surprisingly, it resulted in Rionnic flinching and hissing while holding his head. His younger brother caught him as his vision returned from distortion. His head immediately felt lighter, and his breathing easier. Riornivo quickly figured out what was happening. Tenebrae was inside Rionnic's head.

“You need to get to the center. Go!” Arcann ushered.

Thus, the twin brothers hurried towards the corrupted Jedi temple. While he was still feeling light headed from being mentally freed minutes earlier, Rionnic fought off the remaining monstrosities with a strong sense of protecting his brother. Using the same holocron of memory, Riornivo untangled the temple’s grand door out of those dark roots.

And in the heart of what used to be the council room was Satele, deep in meditation.

Tenebrae further taunted the twins by saying that Satele was only moments away from being hollowed out.

"You’re starting to sound a bit desperate. Who are you trying to convince?" Rionnic taunted right back.

"Mindless child!"

Tenebrae broke the council room apart to reveal the ruined mindscape once more, reveling in his coming victory. “No.”

The former Grandmaster stood up, full of determination. “Your power is your weakness. It blinds you.”

“Jedi nonsense!”

Satele herself joined in the taunting battle, but more eloquently, countering each of Tenebrae’s barbs by acknowledging them and describing how well she knew his inner workings and egotistical crusade. “I never had to beat you. I only had to let you think you’re invincible… Until now, until every person who knows your weakness firsthand could come to face you.”

Led by Revan, the people Satele mentioned marched forward, ready to end their common enemy. “Until the one person who proved you could be defeated came here to destroy you, once and for all.” as Satele took her place next to the Barsen’thor.

“But I-”

“You hesitate now, this will all be for nothing, Spiky.”

In all the years he had met his twin, that was the first time ever Rionnic called his brother by his nickname. It inflicted mixed emotions for the Jedi: endearment, anxiety, and confusion. The mindscape was quickly overrun with crimson Force as Tenebrae merged his forms into Valkorion, beginning the fight for their lives.

Rionnic and Satele tried to attack the Emperor, but they were repelled by a dark barrier. Before they could hit the ground, they floated harmlessly, caught by Riornivo’s gentle Force powers. The others leapt into the fight, and Valkorion summoned helpers to manage the amount of attacks he was bearing. It was pure chaos.

With combined powers and strength, they managed to vanquish Valkorion’s form, resulting in the emergence of Vitiate. The rest of the fighters weren’t letting up. Riornivo mainly utilized his defensive and healing powers, managing the combatants' physical statuses. This had not gone unnoticed as Rionnic stole a few seconds to remind his twin to launch his offense instead of defending endlessly. Which made the Jedi wish he was never there.

Vitiate seemed to have something personal against Revan, because he was taking most of the hits. All of the other fighters who tried to assist were overwhelmed by the weight of Vitiate’s trap in the form of strings, like a puppeteer controlling his subjects. Revan’s strength was waning, while Riornivo was struggling to summon enough Force to free himself and the others. Revan decided to spend his remaining grit to free the Barsen’thor.

“Strike him!”

No more room for hesitation. Drawing his green lightsaber and Force Light on the other hand, Riornivo did not charge at Vitiate, but instead finally used his Architect Wings to jet forward and imbued his strike with the Force Light. Vitiate failed to resist, watching his trap vanish and his form disintegrate. It was time for Tenebrae to take matters into his own hand. He didn’t waste time and impaled Riornivo with a crimson blade made of pure Force energy. There were screams of his name.

The ancient Sith then tossed him away.

Vaylin and Rionnic rushed towards him. Satele stood guarding her former student from Tenebrae’s overwhelming power, while the rest continued the fight despite being close to fatigue themselves. The Barsen’thor’s wings were covering his wound, dispersing some sort of healing salve thanks to his modifications to Brontes’ invention. But he was veering in and out of consciousness. Vaylin cradled him on her lap, trying to keep him awake. His twin was grasping his hand, noticing dark streams traveling inside his brother’s veins.

“Fight it off. Take my strength. You don’t leave me now, brother.”

And he wouldn’t. He was lifted off the ground by his wings, encased in blinding light combined with lightning currents from each conduit of the wings. When he landed, he was trying to catch his breaths, hand over the healed wound on his chest. Both of his hands then reached out to Rionnic and Vaylin. Holding their hands, he finally spoke for the first time.

“I agree. It’s time for this to end.”

It carved a smile on both of their faces. The Jedi’s face was no longer masked by his own reluctance. He released the hands of his loved ones and started levitating while summoning an immense amount of Force Light. It caught Tenebrae’s attention. Before he could turn around to face Riornivo, beams of energy shot out from the wings, creating holes. The Force Light disembarked from Rio’s hands towards him. Try as he might to resist or destroy it, the Light started enveloping him, causing unimaginable pain.

All three of his forms were cornered. He concentrated the last of his might and knocked everyone down in a crimson wave, slowly overpowering them. Only Riornivo was still standing albeit weakly. Tenebrae focused his power onto him, breaking through his mental defenses. His head felt like it was exploding.

Just like how she resisted her father’s control, Vaylin mustered enough strength and ran a hand on Riornivo’s back, gentle and comforting. It worked like a charm, as he met her eyes and nodded lovingly.

The fighters slowly stood up with renewed resolve. Satele remarked; “Everything you’ve done…” continued by Senya; “Everyone you’ve betrayed…” and by Kira; “Everyone you’ve manipulated!” then lastly, by Meetra; “Everyone you’ve murdered…”

“The Force seeks balance. Always!” Revan pointed out.

True enough, his power was his weakness. He was suddenly caught off guard and was blasted by his own power. It turned Valkorion to a statue, followed by Vitiate. Then lastly, Tenebrae, who put up as much fight as he could. The Emperor crumbled to a pool of ashes.

The Force immediately felt just, and the whole galaxy was lifted from a burden thousands of years endured. Rionnic kicked the ashes, as a last mockery towards his former master.

“Are you alright?” Vaylin’s question to Riornivo.

“Now I’m alright.” said the Jedi while his wings retracted, having fulfilled their purpose.

It was her turn to be oblivious to the hidden meaning behind Rio’s response. She nodded, then her attention was stolen towards Arcann pleading to his brother.

“Please, Thex, just a little bit longer. I don’t want to wake up. Please stay…” as he squeezed his brother, talking in tears.

“You’re behaving like when we were kids. You need to wake up or your wife will kill you.” Thexan teased. He then pulled Senya into the hug.

And Vaylin just kept her head down, shrinking behind Riornivo. With a smile, Rio gently ushered her towards her family, and Senya pulled her in the group hug. They were sobbing and uttering apologies to one another. “We’re together now.”

One by one, the people vanished, bathed in light, either becoming one with the Force or waking up from their slumber. Riornivo breathed a sigh of relief.

But was it truly the end?

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cinlat · 24 days

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Blood in the Breeze: Ch 19 (End Times: Pt 2)

Parts one and two of this series linked.

Read every chapter on FFN or Ao3.

Summary: Shit hit the fan. Now for the cleanup.

Chapter Word Count: 3,257 Chapter Rating: T Author’s Note: Whole chapter under the cut. Better formatting on Ao3.

Odessen Alliance Base Landing Platform 0500 Hours

Jorgan's lungs burned in a desperate plea for air. Grey crowded the edge of his vision, and only the drumming of his pulse kept rhythm with the speed of his feet. Don't trip, he repeated like a mantra, occasionally sprinkling in silent prayers of, Be alive, damn you.

From the moment Fynta had hit the ground, Jorgan had started running. He focused on his breath, on the uneven ground beneath him to keep from snagging his boots on the ripped soil. There was no room for the debilitating fear in his heart, only the constant, agonizingly slow movement forward. He wouldn't think of the raw power that erupted from Vaylin in her final moments, or the fact that his wife, a human with no previous Force ability, had stood before the mad child's psychic storm. He couldn't dwell on the knowledge that it hadn't been his wife, and for a fleeting moment, Jorgan had considered pulling the trigger.

The clank of boots on metal jarred Jorgan's senses. He stumbled, caught himself with one hand on the decking, then continued running. By the time Jorgan reached Fynta, she was kneeling with Kaeto's head in her lap.

Others milled about, starting the tedious process of clearing the debris and tending to wounded. They gave Fynta a wide berth, casting awed glances that turned to fervent whispers as they passed. It wasn't until Jorgan drew closer that he realized why.

It felt like hitting a wall. His frantic pace came to a sudden halt, forcing Jorgan to acknowledge the pain in his joints and burning in his chest. He pushed forward, only to be repelled. Ripping his helmet off, Jorgan opened his mouth to shout when a hand rested on his arm. "Wait."

Jedi Master Notiac Carlo stood at Jorgan's side. Her head tilted as if listening to something. Jorgan pulled free and started forward again. Felix appeared on his other side, gripping Jorgan's shoulder. "Trust the process, brother. This is above our paygrade."

"That's my wife," Jorgan snarled, but he didn't shake Felix away. The man had traveled with the fabled Barsen'thor. He knew things Jorgan couldn't imagine. It didn't make standing down easier.

"She is stabilizing," Notiac whispered, one hand swirling through the air as if playing with smoke.

From the opposite end, Arcann moved closer. Jorgan's senses came alive, every hair on his body rising in warning of a long time enemy. Felix's fingers tightened on Jorgan's shoulder. "Just a little longer."

Jorgan bared his teeth at the young emperor, tracking his movement across the landing platform, through the barrier that kept him locked out. The man stepped with caution, waving his mother back when she moved to join them. Jorgan couldn't hear what was said, but he saw Fynta's shoulder's tense when Arcann squatted by her side. Their lips moved, then Arcann lifted Kaeto from Fynta's embrace and walked back towards his mother. At Senya's command, two Sith moved in to collect Kozen's body, presumably to perform last rights elsewhere.

"She is ready," Notiac whispered.

Felix released Jorgan, and he took a step forward. Though the invisible wall had faded, a sense of rage buffeted Jorgan's mind. A peak at the temper he'd known lived inside Fynta all along. Now, it was being nurtured by the most powerful bastard in the galaxy.

Finding his steps unhindered, Jorgan closed the distance at a run. He slowed the last few feet, instinct warning him not to touch her yet. "Fynta." She gave no response, only stared at her hands where they rested on her thighs. Jorgan knelt beside his wife, resting one hand on the back of her neck. "I'm here."

"You never left." Fynta's tone rang empty, and when she looked up, Jorgan saw the same bone deep weariness in her eyes that he'd seen all those years looking back at him in the mirror. "I heard you, but I couldn't—"

"It's okay." Slowly, Jorgan eased Fynta closer until his arms encircled her and his chin rested on the top of her head. "It's over."

Fynta winced and pressed the heel of one hand to her right eye. "Damn shabuir won't shut up."

"What is he saying?" Lana appeared from thin air, as was her way. Theron and Zolah weren't far behind. Together, they encircled Fynta so that she was cut off from prying eyes.

"He wants me to go to Zakuul." Fynta hissed and squeezed her eyes shut. "To take the throne."

Jorgan's snort ruffled Fynta's bangs, but it was Zolah who spoke. "Take her home." The spy's gaze never wavered from Fynta's face. Though her tone was cool, Jorgan heard sympathy behind it. "People think she's invincible at the moment. Let's use that as long as we can."

"While harsh," Theron interjected, "She's right. Fynta needs to walk away before she falls apart. The Alliance needs this win."

Jorgan wanted to snap at everyone to move back, to leave his wife alone, but Fynta beat him to it. "Help me up," she whispered into Jorgan's chestplate. "I can't feel my left leg."

Looping an arm beneath her, Jorgan leveraged Fynta to her feet. The first couple of steps were wobbly, and her prosthetic gave out numerous times. "Something fried the circuitry," she concluded as they entered the main hangar.

A slow clap began at the back of the room, rolling closer as Jorgan and Fynta hobbled through the building. Someone let out a shrill whistle, which ignited a volley of cheers. Verin and Torian stood at the entrance to the base, soot smeared and proud smiles tinged with sadness as they watched their sister move through the crowd. Noara had one arm wrapped around the clan leader, and it looked like she might be holding him up as much as Jorgan was Fynta.

Cormac's tear streaked face came into view next, with Tayl balanced on his shoulders. Jorgan looked instinctively for Shillet, but she found him first. The girl slammed into them, her spindly arms wrapping around the necks of both Fynta and Jorgan. "You survived," she whispered, then stepped back and wiped her eyes.

Fynta chuckled and aimed a weak punch at the young nautolan's arm. "Never a doubt."

Concern crossed Shillet's face, but Jorgan shook his head when she looked at him. Plastering on a watery smile, Shillet slipped under Fynta's other arm. "You look like you could use a shower."

"And a long ass nap," Fynta added. She stumbled as they turned the corner, leaving the crowd behind with members of the War Council acting as shields.

"I'm about to do something you're going to hate," Jorgan warned as the echoes of cheers grew more distant.

Fynta glared up at him. "Don't you fucking dare. I can walk."

Jorgan stepped in front of Fynta and scooped her into his arms. It had been years since he'd lifted her like that, and that time hadn't been kind to either of them. Jorgan's back cramped and his knees grumbled, but he ignored them. "Shillet, get the door."

"I'll get even," Fynta complained, but she held still.

By the time Jorgan made it to their apartment with his burden, he was dizzy from the strain. Gone were the days of the young Cathar who could deadlift his wife. He was old and beaten down. So was Fynta.

Shillet palmed open the door, and Jorgan all but dropped Fynta onto the sofa. There was no way in hell he'd make it up the stairs. "Shillet, grab a water, will you?"

While the girl moved to comply, Jorgan bent to remove Fynta's armor. Shillet offered the water to Fynta, then wrung her hands. "I want to help with the clean up."

"No." Jorgan didn't look up from the fastenings of Fynta's boots. He didn't have to sense the agitation from his daughter. Glancing back, he pinned Shillet with the same glare that had failed every other time before. "There are dead bodies, roaming Knights, and rogue Skytroopers. It's too dangerous."

"I won't leave the base." Shillet looked to Fynta for help, then squared her shoulders and mirrored Jorgan's glare. "I can help."

The growl building in the back of Jorgan's throat faltered at Fynta's touch. He looked from his daughter to his wife, both so alike despite having spent a lifetime apart. Fynta offered a weak smile. "Cormac will keep her safe. He and Verin are making the verd'ika clear rubble as penance for sneaking off."

"Fine." Jorgan ground the word out. Shillet's lips split into a sharp toothed grin. As she turned to run back to her friends, Jorgan snagged her skinny wrist and tugged her into a hug that was too tight given the armor he wore. Shillet didn't complain. "You don't leave Cormac's side, got it?"

"Got it." Shillet kissed Jorgan's cheek, gave a thumbs up to Fynta, and started away again. Jorgan ruffled her head tresses as she went, watching until his daughter vanished through the door.

Fynta groaned as she pushed herself further into a sitting position. "You did a good job."

"It was a team effort." Jorgan thought back to the Havoc Squad he'd lost at the Spire. Of the gentle way each and every one of them imprinted a part of themselves on the girl. Shaking the old memories away, Jorgan faced his wife. "Come on, let's get you out of this armor."

Odessen Alliance Command Personal Quarters

Fynta's skin tingled like tiny flames dancing under the surface. Ever since Vaylin's death, Valkorion had jumped in and out of view, pausing time only to hurl Fynta back into the stream of movement. Her stomach heaved and it felt like her bones itched. Helping Shillet escape Jorgan's overprotectiveness had been as much for her as it had been for the girl. As Zolah pointed out, Fynta had just done the impossible, she couldn't break with witnesses. Not even family.

Jorgan pulled Fynta's boot off, then switched to examine her prosthetic leg. It sparked when he shifted the foot, sending a jolt through both of them. Cursing, the Cathar snatched his hand back. "We need to have that looked at sooner than later."

"If we leave it alone, it can wait until later," Fynta replied with a poor attempt at levity. Jorgan didn't laugh.

"Some new dings in the armor." Jorgan was avoiding the main problem. The ticking bomb in Fynta's head. "Maybe—"

"You didn't take the shot." Fynta knew he had it. She remembered the pain in his voice, begging her forgiveness. Fynta had been too far gone in Valkorion's power to respond, but she'd known he was there. I forgive you, she'd tried to say. Being removed from the instance, Fynta realized Aric's voice was the only thing that had kept her grounded in reality while lightning raged around her.

Jorgan's hands slipped on the buckle of Fynta's leg plate, then he resumed unfastening it with more concentration that was required. "Couldn't." It was all he had to say. Fynta never expected Aric to put a bolt through her, but she didn't know how to convey that in words. She was so damn tired, so damn electrified.

Hooking a finger under Aric's chin, Fynta bent down to meet his lips to hers. He went rigid at first, then cupped her face to add a gentle sweep of his tongue. With their foreheads pressed together, Fynta felt some of the tension in her body ease. Jorgan closed his eyes. "I thought—"

"Me too." Fynta had been ready to die. She'd always known it was a likelihood of facing Vaylin. And when Kaeto and Kozen's bodies had been dumped before her, nothing else mattered apart from ripping the little bitch to pieces. And then, she'd lived.

Aric pressed another chaste kiss to Fynta's lips, then went back to removing her armor. While he was bent forward, she slipped her fingers into the catches on his chest and back plates, letting them fall away. They continued undressing one another in silence, until only the clingy under armour remained. Jorgan settled on the sofa behind Fynta and pulled her against him.

"We should bathe," Fynta suggested even while the warmth from his body soothed her aching muscles.

"In a minute." Aric's arms tightened. Fynta didn't struggle. She had a feeling there would be time for that later.

Odessen War Room 13:00 Hours

Theron's back slammed into the wall. He put one hand on the fist gripping the front of his shirt while holding the other palm out to show submission. "Okay—okay. Look, before you hit me, hear me out."

"Make this good, Shan." Fynta stood behind her husband, the one currently pinning Theron to the cool and impassable stone. The flatness with which she addressed him was almost as unsettling as the sharp teeth inches from his face.

Theron had known Jorgan for a long time. He'd been on the receiving end of one of the Cather's punches before. That was nothing compared to the feral rage emanating from him now. After all these years, Theron finally saw what had first attracted Fynta to the grumpy bastard. She'd always had a taste for danger.

Theron avoided looking into the unnaturally bright eyes in front of him and craned his neck to see Fynta. Her arms were folded, mouth set in an unfamiliar frown. He'd known her longer, hell, he was half the reason she was here. Not just out of carbonite, but captured in the first place. If Theron hadn't put Fynta's name up for Garza's special assignment more than a decade ago, well, she'd probably be dead. She'd been on a self destructive path, and the snarling Cathar had saved her. But, it had all come at a steep cost.

"I know what you're thinking," Theron began. Fynta lifted a brow, and Jorgan's grip tightened. Theron blew out a breath. "It's risky, I know. But Oggurrobb has ironed out the kinks that Garza couldn't."

"Well, if Oggurrobb says it's safe—" Fynta pinched the bridge of her nose, then waved one hand. "Let's hear what he has to say, Aric."

Jorgan gave a final shove that made Theron's sternum creak before stepping back. "You heard the woman. Make this good, Shan."

There had never been a kinship between Theron and Jorgan. They'd tolerated each other's presence because the mission required it. It might have something to do with Theron accusing Jorgan of fucking his commanding officer for the wild ride that she was. It had been a poor attempt and building trust in a shared misadventure. He hadn't known at the time they were married.

"If you're done threatening my spy," Zolah drawled. The holo in the center of the table came to life with a schematic that made Theron's pulse quicken. It wouldn't look like much to the average pair of eyes, but Theron thought it was pure beauty. A small device, no bigger than the palm of his hand, capable of harnessing the most deadly power in all the universe.

"Darth Kozen," there was a barely perceptible pause in Zolah's explanation. Theron doubted anyone other than him caught it. "Studied the prison that Major Jorgan brought with him from Nathema. He was convinced that the answers to containing Valkorion rested with the soul inside."

Jorgan folded his arms, scowl increasing, but Fynta looked intrigued. She'd been furious to learn that her husband had stolen the artifact until he'd explained the ingenious idea behind it. Unfortunately, being trapped for nearly a milenia hadn't softened Valkorion's sire's heart. He wanted to bargain, but Kozen and Lana had other plans. Then, they'd lost the Sith Lord, and with him, a large part of their advantage. That is where Theron came in.

"I know things didn't go well when Garza tried this." Theron ignored Jorgan's growl, but the betrayal was still there in Fynta's eyes. She still hadn't forgiven him for his part in the Eclipse Squad incident on Rishi. Theron supposed that was fair. "But, they didn't have Oggurrobb or access to Zakuulan tech."

Fynta held up one hand, and Theron paused. His pulse skittered while he waited for her to shut him down. To his surprise, she only tapped the side of her head. "Should I be hearing this?"

"No," Quinn stated plainly. He'd been against inviting Fynta to this meeting in the first place, but Theron refused to move forward without her permission. He was done keeping secrets from the people who mattered to him.

Steering the conversation away from the details, Theron switched off the holo. "You have to consent to the next part."

Fynta's single brow lifted, and Zolah picked up the line of conversation. "You're aware of the Castellan restraints that were imposed on me?" Now, their commander's eyes widened. Zolah nodded. "Something along those lines."

Huffing out a nervous laugh, Fynta braced both hands against the conference table behind her. "Well, I guess that explains why Vector isn't here."

Vector had been against the plan from the beginning. His trauma from breaking Zolah free went so deep that the man couldn't see the practical value anymore. This could work. "Do you get it now?"

"Enough." Fynta shared a look with her husband, and Theron watched an entire conversation happen in a matter of seconds. Her browns lifted, and Jorgan's mouth thinned into a narrow line. When he sighed, Theron knew the answer had been decided. Fynta nodded to the room and pushed away from the table. "I'll leave you to it, then."

Without a backward glance, Fynta left the room. Theron saw fear in the stiffness of her spine, the lift of her chin. The more composed Fynta appeared, the more out of sorts she was on the inside. Judging by Jorgan's glare, he knew it too.

When the door shut, the Cathar resumed his menacing scowl. "Fill me in, and Shan—make it good."

#swtor #blood in the breeze #meet me on that battlefield #fynta wolfe #aric jorgan #notiac carlo #barsen'thor #felix iresso #theron shan #lana beniko #zolah holran #cipher nice #malavai quinn #senya tirall #arcann #the aftermath of the battle #stratgies for going forward #still slogging towards that end #only two chapters left

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