Chapter 1: Awakening

She was in bed. That was the first thing she realized. Idly she wondered where she was, how she'd gotten there. The fact that she wasn't sure would have terrified her if her thoughts were any less sluggish. What was going on?

She opened her eyes, only to screw them shut again with a wince at the bright light. Her senses started to respond. She could feel the rough sheets of her bed, the thin mattress beneath her. Her ears started working, sounds growing louder like the volume being turned up on a holo. The loudest was a pulsing alarm klaxon.

Then the whole world shook. She clutched at her bed to keep from falling off. The shaking stopped, and she rushed to make it to her feet, banging her head against the bunk about six inches above her face in the process. She grunted, rubbed her forehead for a moment, and pulled her legs from the tangles of the rough white sheets. Looking down at her self she had a faint feeling of surprise at her tight fitting undergarment, all that she wore. She had no complaint about the clothing itself—it's dull gray form was supportive and convenient; what bothered her more was that it didn't seem all that familiar to her. The world shook again, accompanied this time by a distant explosion. Clearly more pressing concerns were at hand. She had just put her naked feet to the cold floor when the only door burst open.

"We're under attack by the Sith. They've already started boarding!"

"Wha ..." her voice cracked unexpectedly. Her throat felt dry, her tongue heavy. She tried again. "What's happening?" Even as she spoke her mind started whirring into action. The scariest part was that he, a soldier, payed absolutely no attention whatsoever to her tight under-clothing—that was something that happened only under the most dire circumstances possible.

"The Sith ambushed us, they must be after Bastila and her fellow Jedi, which means we have to get to the bridge."

"Wait, who?" He spared her an incredulous glance.

"Bastila, the Jedi in charge of this mission? The commanding officer on ship? Ringing any bells?" His tone rose sarcastically. "I hope you're better at fighting than thinking. Get your weapons and armor and let's go."

Another explosion punctuated his words. She climbed to her feet, only to stagger and lean against her bunk at the sudden rush of blood to her head. Still, the man obviously held her in contempt, pacing frantically with blaster in hand and occasionally throwing her impatient glances; she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her weakness. Her legs were watery, her balance thrown off. Still, a couple stumbling steps brought her over to the locker at the foot of the bed. The locker held a loose but modest shirt with a heavily pocketed vest and a pair of practical pants. She dressed quickly, and pulled on the boots she found beneath the rest of the clothes. Curiously, they had very soft soles which wouldn't last long on any tough terrain. They were, she admitted, rather comfortable. She turned back to the Soldier, who was holding out a sword.

"Take this vibrosword. At least you'll distract them for a few seconds while I take care of the Sith." She took the sword without comment, still too uncertain of her situation to risk antagonizing her only ally while combat raged about them. "And here they'd talked you up so much, all the languages you knew, all of it. Ha."

He was definitely pushing that resolve, however.

She took a moment to examine the vibrosword. It was a standard, mass produced model, that much was immediately evident. The handle had a no-slip ribbed grip, a simple guard, and a small built-in motor that rapidly vibrated the blade for maximum penetration, hence the name. She glanced up at him.

"Don't you have an energy shield?"

Swordplay was a lost art since the earliest invention of effective and accurate firearms. Only the Jedi, who could miraculously deflect blaster shots with those odd blades of theirs could effectively use swords in combat. Then a revolution changed everything—the personalized energy shield. A vast miniaturization of starships shield generators, they allowed soldiers to close to unheard of close quarters where their swords and decimate their blaster-wielding foes. An instant resurgence of the melee weapon took place across the galaxy. Still, the blaster would never be outmoded entirely. Because of the small size of the arm-mounted generators, the shields could not have a big enough power supply to be self-sustaining. Their designers compromised. In order to keep the power output high enough to be useful, they made the shields a burst shield with enough power to generate a personal shield for several minutes before having to rebuild power. They were not perfect, however. Concentrated blaster fire could tear them apart, and their cost prevented standard use by an entire army.

But they were pretty much required if you were going to go charging straight into blaster fire. Unfortunately, soldier boy didn't agree.

"You won't last long enough to use it. Let's go."

The odd pair moved with as much haste as their fear allowed, creeping through the narrow, once-white corridors of the starship and stepping over shattered work consoles, slipping in leaking fluids and ducking beneath exposed and sparking wires. It seemed that the battle had already come through this section of ship on its way towards the bridge.

Words filled her mind, humming out efficiently from someplace in the back of her mind.

A Hammerhead class cruiser. Big, for a mass-produced capital ship, but with four undersized ion engines, not that fast. Four dual heavy turbolaser cannons, two normal turbolaser cannons, two quad laser cannons and two point defense laser cannons. Quite a punch, but not heavily armored enough to let them slug it out in long engagements, which made them particularly vulnerable to fighters. The ship lurched under another bombardment, and she stumbled for a moment before righting herself. Like the kind no doubt swarming outside right now.

She briefly wondered when exactly it was that she'd learned that as she picked her way through the debris and braced against additional explosions. Occasionally flashing lights would illuminate the corridor as a slowly cracking view port came into view, revealing the massive and deadly light show that was the battle outside. Astromech droids wheeled by with calm assurance, their welders working to repair cracks in the bulkhead, their mundane chores in stark contrast to the bodies of Sith and Republic alike that lined the corridor.

It wasn't long before the distant sound of blasterfire neared and they broke into the Republic line. People were everywhere, their glaringly bright orange uniforms flashing past in all directions while open helmets revealed alien and human mouths shouting in a variety of languages, all the voices panicky.

In short, it was chaos. A tense voice echoed over the sputtering P.A., barely audible over the ruckus. "Prepare for borders. All hands to combat stations, all hands ..." The voice cut off to static.

An explosion ripped through the ship, making the floor shudder beneath them and kicking up a cloud of pulverized bulkhead. The pair struggled on, elbowing and shoving their way through the heavily armored throng. They dashed past a causeway to see flashes of light and brief images of black and silver armored soldiers locked in mortal combat with Republic orange troopers. The PA crackled to life again, its failing power garbling the message. "Fall back to ... sitions! Say again, hold ..."

The crowds quickly filtered away as they progressed towards the bridge. Her eyes tightened in thought. Why leave the most important part of the ship undefended? The soldiers are being drawn off. It's a diversion.

At last as they were getting close to the bridge the quiet was near total, only the distance echoes of shouts reaching them down the long corridors. Bodies lay strewn about, both Republic and Sith, though the vast majority wore orange, not silver. There was a sort of order to the forms splayed out with still expressions of utmost agony. And there was something different – their wounds were... worse, though it seemed morbid to call some dead more injured than others. Most of them had been killed with a sword, clearly, but what kind of sword or soldier cut limbs clean off?

It smelled.

The charred flesh beneath flash-burned armor, the blood from gaping vibrosword wounds, the unbelievable movement captured in those static bodies; it was almost overwhelming.

There was a split reaction inside of her. Part of her was reduced to gibbering terror, but another, deeper part of her kept thinking, calculating, planning. She wondered how the Republic were trying to counter the fighter threat, what would work, what wouldn't. Even now, she found herself unconsciously keeping behind the cover of debris as much as possible.

They struggled on. She ducked down to scoop up a blaster pistol for herself, only to have her companion reach out and grab her arm. A flash of anger rushed through her, though she didn't know why. "Would you rob the dead?" he hissed. Things like that are what separate us from the Sith." He let go and marched on.

Movement jerked her eyes. She paused and tapped her companion, slowing him as well. Silently she pointed at the twitching uniform of orange, almost black from the long blaster char across its back. A republic soldier, prone amongst the bodies, its only motion the low rise and fall of breathing.

Now that she was still, though, the pounding of her heart, the flood of adrenaline; everything was clear. She hadn't felt this aware since-

"Hey, soldier," her companion whispered quietly. The injured soldier started and half-turned on the ground. "Easy, we're with you. I'm Ensign Trask Ulgo, and this is..." He gestured for her to introduce herself. In her tense state it took a second for her name to come to mind. "Ensign Kyrena Satele."

"Alright, I'm Ensign Brisler" returned the prone soldier through a grimace. Trask and Kyrena crouched down beside him to better hear is weak voice. "They cut through us . . . to the bridge. The rest of my squad . . . uuummf . . . all dead . . . trying to stop that . . . that thing." Brisler shuddered in horror and lay still.

"Damn. Go scout out ahead while I try to save him." Trask didn't even look at her as he spoke, instead focusing on the emergency bandages strapped to the soldiers uniform. Kyrena didn't bother to reply, and instead crept forward slowly while Trask set about giving Brisler first aid.

The memories of her training back with the 501st Recon Battalion, attached to the 2nd Brigade of the Corellian Corps, were hazy, as if viewed through a dirty, thick sheet of transparisteel, and her memories of the actual wars were even worse. Post traumatic stress disorder, the Jedi Healer had told her, which they had fixed, somehow. If not for them she may never have been able to pull herself together again. Still, as she ghosted forwards she didn't rely on her memories so much as her instincts. Her thin boots suddenly made sense, making no sound as she crept forward. Her body, her muscles remembered what to do. A handful of meters down the corridor it turned sharply to the left. She eased forwards, back against the left wall, listening hard and stepping carefully over the bodies.

Down the corridor echoed the sounds of battle. Shouts and blaster shots rebounded off the walls and their source quickly came into view. Two republic soldiers lay prone, trying to use fallen soldiers as cover as they traded fire with an entire squad of six Sith, the rearguard for their assault team on the bridge. The two were covered by a third, standing in the middle of the corridor and dueling another Sith. Sparks flew from their vibroswords as they hammered at each other, the brief flashes reflecting off the enclosed black faceplate of the Sith armor. Kyrena watched from her distant position, instinctively sizing up the two fighters.

The Sith was stronger, definitely, but the soldier was the more skilled. The duel blocked the rest of the Sith from pouring in overwhelming firepower without hitting their man. The other Sith grew impatient with their companion, or perhaps simply didn't care for him. One way or another, it didn't stop them from sliding a frag grenade across the debris-strewn floor which bounced to a stop at the Sith's feet.

Kyrena suppressed a curse and slid back around the corner as the explosion tore the Republic Troopers and the melee-fighting Sith to shreds. She had only seconds before the rest of the Sith arrived. She could run or fight. Or . . .

…

The Sith marched down the corridor, anonymous masks turning right and left as they scanned for more Republic soldiers. They marched on down the corridor until silence reigned again.

All was not still, however. One of the corpses, a Rodian with half its face a melted mess, started to twitch. Kyrena slid herself out from her awkward position jammed between the Rodian and a Sith with a hole in his gut. The Sith got the worst of Kyrena's intervention, coming out of it a blaster pistol lighter.

Kyrena pushed down the terrified part of her and clung to the deeper, stronger part as she strapped the blaster pistol to her waist. A few more moments located her a mostly unstained suit of light armor which she, after discarding her vest, slithered into. It was certainly not heavy enough to turn away a blaster bolt, consisting of heat reflecting fabrics instead of the hardened ceramic plates of medium armor or the full-on enclosed durasteel of heavy armor, but it would keep her alive if she took a hit and reduce the burns of a near miss. It was rough on her skin even through her shirt, and while the thought of staining her clothes with someone else's blood was a little repulsive, it was definitely better than nothing. And on the plus side, she could move as freely as ever. She took a moment to check the utility belt she'd picked up with the blaster pistol—it held a spare power pack for the pistol, a serrated survival knife, and a datapad. Not much. She moved forward.

The battle scene was a mess. The fragmentation grenade had shredded through the four soldiers caught in the blast, scarring the walls with black explosive residue, tiny chunks of shrapnel, and blood now slowly dripping its way back to the floor, as if seeking out the husks to which it had once belonged. She stepped over the bodies, tightening her grip on her vibrosword. Ahead the sounds of battle once again came down to her, but more pressingly, the sound of heavy, quick footsteps was quickly growing louder. She dropped among the bodies again. It was another Sith. The soldier skidded to a stop right beside her as both heard the approaching shouts and blaster fire, though this time coming from behind her. She sneaked a glance and saw Trask and Brisler backing towards them firing rapidly at two Sith warriors. Even as she watched Brisler took two shots to the chest, spinning him around and shattering his blaster pistol, and another scoring a deep black scar across his back before he dropped to his knees. With a strangled gasp he dropped his ruined blaster, drew his survival knife and tackled the nearer of the two Sith. Three more bolts of energy took him in mid leap killing him before he landed. His death grip on the knife held strong, and momentum drove it through the Sith's weak gap in the shoulder joint. They both went down hard.

The Sith next to Kyrena seemed to snap out of his shock and took aim.

. . .

Trask sighed with relief as his last shot took the final Sith in the faceplate, killing him instantly and knocking him backwards, sparing Trask the view of his handiwork. His pistol was hot even through his gloved hands, heated almost unbearably by the discharge of so much energy. It buzzed to alert him of a failing charge in his powerpack and he reached for the spare on his belt as he turned to look for Kyrena's body again only to jerk at the sight of a Sith not three meters away from him. He whipped his blaster pistol up but held his fire as the Sith only twitched oddly. What new sort of wizardy was...

The Sith's knees buckled, sending him falling forwards to reveal Kyrena pulling her new survival knife from the side of the Sith's neck. It took Trask a moment to reply. "I... I guess I underestimated you Kyrena. Thank you." Trask stepped over to the wounded Sith still wrapped in Brisler's embrace and, over the soldier's pleas, shot him.

They moved on.

A moment later the bridge came into view. Trask still seemed shaken. "I have to apologize, Kyrena. It's just . . . I've fought for so long, seen so many new faces killed . . . it's easier to keep them far away." Kyrena only nodded, completely focused on her surroundings. The terrified part of her now was shocked into silence at the death she'd caused, leaving the deeper part of her more completely in control. Without it she would have been gibbering in the corner.

Trask's thoughts were interrupted as bright light spilled into the corridor as the bridge doors opened. A blurred form launched at the two of them, nearly bowling them over as they each ducked reflexively. Kyrena whirled to see what had just been destroyed, and was startled to see that the form was a body, a still living human woman who, unbelievably, had landed on her feet even as she slid backwards another full meter before coming to a dignified stop. She had on a strange sort of brown robe beneath which she wore a tan tunic crossed left over right, held tight by a brown leather belt.

"So you want to play do you?" the woman muttered to herself. She shrugged off her outer cloak. "Alright, let's play." The woman started running, accelerating far faster than any normal human could. She headed straight for them, almost as if Trask and Kyrena were beneath her notice. "Look out!" Kyrena shoved Trask against the far wall, using his greater mass to propel herself safely to her own wall. They separated just in time as the woman stormed past them, a bright blue light igniting from her hand, no, from some sort of tube?

Kyrena blinked. A lightsaber. A blade of pure energy which could cut through almost anything, necessitating the expensive coat of Cortosis weave over all Republic vibroswords lest they be cut straight through. The weapon that single-handedly gave the entire Republic Army High Command a headache and skyrocketing damage reports once the Sith started using them en mass. Even a nobody like her had heard about the lightsaber, the weapon of the Jedi. Which probably meant that whoever she was fighting would be . . .

Out of the bridge sauntered another figure, this one a human male all in black. He sneered at the charging Jedi and ignited his own lightsaber, a deep red, with the weapon's unique snap-hiss. Instantly they were locked in mortal combat.

"That's a dark Jedi, Kyrena. We should hang back, we'd only get in the way."

Kyrena offered him a sidelong glance before returning her gaze to the fight ahead. It took only a few moments to see that he was right. During her time on Corellia she'd been trained in vibrosword fighting, as it was quieter than a blaster, more heavily than standard Army brigades were and had a basic understanding of the Echani hand-to-hand fighting style, but the Jedi fought like nothing she'd ever seen. She fought in a whirl of flashing attacks, her blue blade flickering almost too fast to see. Her opponent, meanwhile, seemed to be mounting a slower, stronger defense before making powerful lunges forward.

The fight seemed about even, the Jedi and Sith trading blows and sharing near misses equally. The ship, however, was definitely losing. Wherever the shining lightsabers encountered starship bulkhead they cut right through it, leaving blazing hot yellow trails of superheated metal that slowly cooled to black. Sparks and intense energy discharges when the lightsabers met further sullied the formerly immaculate white and red corridor. It was beautiful, in a way, as much as it was terrible.

The Jedi pressed the attack and they backed into the bridge, swirling starfield visible through the viewports, complete with the flashes and explosions of dogfighting snubfighters, forming their backdrop. It was something straight out of the holo-vids.

The battle seemed to be taking a toll on the two contestants as they broke apart for a moment. The Jedi was gasping heavily now, the Sith just as winded. It would not be long now. The Jedi leaped back into action, though not with the speed she once had. She swung right but caught the Sith by surprise by dropping her attack low. He tried to follow with his block, but she dropped it lower still, to slice cleanly through the Sith's left foot. He gasped in surprise, his lightsaber loose in his hands, and the Jedi took full advantage. She whirled and brought her blade cleanly through his chest. It sizzled there, cooking through him for a moment before his eyes glazed over. He was in shock, dying. The Jedi extinguished her blade and turned her back on him, stepping towards Kyrena and her cloak.

The Sith, however, was not done yet. A trembling hand reached to his belt and did something, pressed something Kyrena couldn't make out. She sucked in breath to call out a warning, and the Jedi tensed as if she sensed something was wrong, but it was too late. A massive explosion rocked the bridge. Transparent tactical readouts, most already cracked, shattered completely. The bridge officers, already dead at their posts, were completely consumed. The fireball reached out to the Jedi, rolling over her, it's thunderous roar overwhelming her scream. It reached towards Kyrena and Trask, but was suddenly pulled back as the transparisteel viewports gave out and atmosphere was sucked out into space. Kyrena, blown backwards a step by the explosion, now staggered forward as space tugged at her. The fail safes had withstood the damage, however, and solid durasteel snapped down to cover the gaping holes the explosion had left behind.

The two Republic soldiers scrambled over to the Jedi. She was in a bad way. She'd collapsed backwards as the vacuum tugged on her and dragged across the floor on her terribly burned back. To be honest, there wasn't much of it left, if the rapidly swelling pool of blood and pus was any indication. The Jedi looked up at them, at Kyrena, and her face scrunched up in confusion. "You ... yo ... y."

Trask pounded an armored fist on the abused deck plate. "Damn, we could have used her help."

He gathered himself quickly while Kyrena stared, lost, into the Jedi's gaze. "Come on, we have to move. If Bastila's not here she must have abandoned ship, and that means there's nothing to keep the Sith from blowing the Endar Spire to dust. Come on!" He tugged on Kyrena's bloodstained light armor. Kyrena pulled herself together and forced her mind off the Jedi's light blue eyes, still wide with pain. "Alright, let's go." It took but a moment to scoop up her lightsaber.

She looked up at Trask, who's straight white hair now stood revealed and on end, having lost his helmet to the explosion. It struck her how old he was for a soldier, crows feet already crinkling the corners of his eyes. She nodded, and together they charged through the disaster that was the bridge, headed for the opposite access-way. Shards of melted glass stuck into their boots and ash from vaporized corpses smeared into their clothing, but they made it.

Kyrena turned right towards the escape pod on this level but Trask paused. "Hold on, I heard something over here, maybe another survivor." He ran over to unlock the door, urgency making him clumsy on the controls, while Kyrena covered her doorway with her liberated blaster pistol. Trask hadn't complained since her borrowed weapons had saved his life. Trask gasped and Kyrena did an abrupt about face. Another dark Jedi, this one with a double bladed lightsaber, rose from where he was crouched on the floor with a malicious sneer. "Run!" They bolted towards the escape pod, but Trask gave a cry and suddenly he was gone. Kyrena turned in midstride and saw him flying backwards and land impaled on the Sith's lightsaber. He gasped, blood bubbling from his lips, as his own weight slid him downwards and the blade slowly cut him in two.

The Sith turned his gaze on her and made some sort of gesture. Kyrena froze, completely unable to move. Helpless. All she could do was watch as the Sith tossed aside what was left of Trask and took a step towards her.

Ulgo Trask lay in a crumpled heap of agony. He had lost all feeling below his chest, but what he could feel felt like it was on fire, and his vision had turned red. But he could see what would happen next. He gathered himself for a single, final effort. He grit his teeth and reached for his blaster pistol, aimed, and pulled the trigger. The light faded away to blackness as his target exploded, but his final feeling was more than just pain. There was . . . satisfaction.

The ship's computer, whatever was left of it, followed its simple programming and assumed a destroyed control panel meant a hull breach or some other drastic emergency, and slammed the door shut, overriding any attempt to bypass it.

Kyrena stumbled and fell as the hold on her suddenly vanished. The lights flickered as electricity danced on the door, further blackening it. What was that? Lightning? How were they supposed to defeat that? Even over the lightning she heard the enraged scream of the Sith. Suddenly a red blade stabbed through the door. Kyrena scrambled to her feet and took off running through the only remaining door and jerked up her blaster as she caught sight of someone there. The human's bright orange jacket quickly reassured her. Come on, come on!" he shouted, gesturing frantically to the last remaining escape pod. "Is there anyone else?" She shook her head mutely. "Then let's move, they could destroy us any second!"

The thought spurred Kyrena and she slid awkwardly through the narrow entrance into the small escape pod. The soldier slid in behind her and flipped the hatch closed and locked. "Fire up the launch sequence while I get strapped in." Kyrena didn't waste time replying. Her fingers were a blur on the digital keypad as she selected a trajectory. It would be amazing luck if they didn't collide with any debris on their way out, but there weren't many options. She keyed in the countdown and quickly pulled on the cumbersome waist and chest restraints. Just as she finished tightening the last strap the engines engaged.

Their was no subtlety to them; it was a burst of raw power that rocketed them away from the dying Endar Spire. The thrust, unmitigated by an inertial compensator to allow for more passengers, smashed Kyrena's head back into the headrest, partially stunning her.

The view out the rear viewport was spectacular, though in her dazed state Kyrena didn't truly appreciate it. All around fighter craft spat energy, focused beads of death wrought in fireballs of exploding fuel and energy cells. In the distance Capital ships heaved massive energy bolts of power from oversized turbolasers which bathed shields in a wash of arcing electricity. The Endar Spire itself was before them, locked into its last evasive maneuver before the captain was killed. It slowly eased its way through a shallow turn while its smaller brethren darted around it, using the ships hull, now streaming atmosphere from multiple breaches, as both cover and ambush. The ships ion engines were a mess, only one burning at full strength, and the vertical bridge which gave the hammerhead cruiser its name was even worse. Another wave of Sith fighters strafed the engines and the resulting explosion was too much for the superstructure to bear. The two watched in silence as the Endar Spire came apart, pushed on by secondary explosions, until the burning atmosphere of reentry completely blocked their view.

Crashing through the atmosphere, Kyrena decided, was not a pleasant experience. It was as if, annoyed by their dramatic entrance, the planet had decided to fight back and started slapping the little pod around. Its occupants were helplessly tossed around in violent side-to-side maneuvers and stomach lurching drops. The temperature inside the pod started to rise dramatically even through the heat shield as the roar of atmosphere grew to a fevered pitch. Sweat covered her body, droplets splattering the bulkhead as she was wrenched back and forth yet again. Nausea became a constant companion, and soon more than just sweat sloshed back and forth. It went on and on and on and on. When she'd just about given herself up for death by escape pod, the proximity alarm started. It got louder as they approached, shrieked louder and louder until with an almighty upheaval they-